"Alright, here's the plan. Scout, harass anyone who steps foot in the village, keep their attention on you. But keep grabbing that cash, alright?"
"You got it, hard hat."
"Demo, as soon as anything big gets here, bomb with as much damage as you can as fast as you can. I see you're using the Resistance, so keep a trap or two set up around the hatch, yeah?"
"Aye."
"Pyro, I want you to blast the carriers back. Pit them if you can. Other than that, reflect."
"Mmph."
"Heavy, Medic, stick together. Medic, don't forget to heal the rest of us if you can, please. Heavy, rage. Rage and push them back. Soak up all the damage you can."
"Da."
"Jawohl."
"I'll be keeping the teleporters maintained, and my sentry should pick off any stragglers. Dispenser'll be up and running, so feel free to grab all the ammo you need. We ready?"
Dell was answered with a chorus of affirmations, and the team ran towards the small cliff leading into the town. Dell ensured that a teleported entrance had been left near the hatch in case anyone was forced to respawn. He placed his sentry out of the line of fire, but in a position where any robots coming into the town would have to run towards it to get into range. Moving through the arches, he dropped his teleport exit inside the forward shop before placing his dispenser behind the rocks. He stepped back, twirling his Rescue Ranger around his finger. He was ready.
Heavy climbed up on the rocks, a faint crimson beam connecting him to the dispenser. Medic settled below him, his Medigun buzzing with high voltage. Tavish was laying a sticky trap beneath the cliff, firing repeatedly before moving behind the arches, taking a swig from his bottle before focusing. Scout checked the chamber of his scattergun before raising it, aiming towards the cliff as the rumble of mechanical feet striking the earth grew louder.
The first scoutbot leapt off the cliff, followed by the rest of its mob. They were quickly torn apart by Tavish's bombs, and the stragglers picked off by the Heavy. Notes fluttered to the ground, quickly snatched up by the Scout, the money gravitating towards him before it burned up. Pyro leapt from behind the rocks as a group of soldierbots appeared, reflecting most of the rockets that were fired- the explosives ripped into the soldierbots who were too slow, allowing the Scout to dash in to collect the scattered money. He was just too slow to avoid the wave of flames that erupted from the cliffs, but he quickly extinguished himself with a bottle of Mad Milk.
As the onslaught continued, the team was pushed into the village by several giant demoknights, the Pyro having lost their head in the panic. Dell had altered his setup to fit the situation, pulling back his teleport exit as the Heavy protected him from a mass of pipe bombs. He soon reappeared once Dell replaced his exit. The tide turned in their favour once Pyro pushed the carrier into a pit, and they advanced back up to the arches. The arrival of two tanks set them back again, one of which almost deployed its bomb. The organised defence soon became a panicked mess, with each member of the team hard-pressed to hold their position. Even with an Übercharge, the Heavy still succumbed to the sheer number of bullets put out by a mob of scoutbots. Reappearing in the spawn, the Heavy groaned, buying a few upgrades before hefting his minigun and running towards the teleporter entrance. On the other end of the teleport, Dell was frantically repairing the exit as a group of demobots grew closer, the pipe bombs already arcing through the air towards him. He activated his Über canteen, the force of the explosions sending him flying through the air. He watched as the teleporter flashed, indicating an imminent arrival, before being destroyed, and the traveller not appearing. Putting the thought out of mind for the moment, Dell retreated, set up a sentry, and helped the remainder of his team now down the final giants before mopping up the smaller robots. They regrouped inside the spawn building, the Medic frowning when he did not see the Heavy.
"Where is the Heavy?"
Dell sighed.
"I guess he was teleporting when my exit was destroyed. I'll be honest, I don't know what's happened to him. He could be anywhere."
"Wait wait wait, Heavy's gone?" Scout asked.
Ignoring the Scout, Medic turned to Dell.
"How do we get him back?"
"I guess building an exit would be a good start."
-Beach-
From the moment he had disappeared, the Heavy, Misha, had known something was wrong. For a start, he had not appeared to the sound of robots meeting their ends by the bombs, bullets and flames of his teammates. Secondly, he could not see anything. While he was used to the brief blindness brought on by teleporting, he knew it did not go on for this long. He could still feel the reassuring weight of Sasha in his hands, which was comforting, as well as the belt of rounds across his shoulder. He squeezed the spooling trigger, and could just about hear the barrel spinning up.
Good. Hearing is returning.
He let go of the trigger, Sasha becoming silent again. Now that he focused, Misha could hear something, a sound that was unfamiliar to him- it sounded like water, crashing around in large quantities. With the blindness fading annoyingly slowly, Misha made his way towards the sound, his feet sinking into the ground, as if he were walking in heavy snow. Except it was warm and dry, not cold and wet. Reaching down, he ran his hand through the ground and immediately deduced that it was sand. He put two and two together and realised that he must be stood on a beach. He had heard Scout talking about beaches often, remembering that he had once tried to persuade Misha to go to one. He had politely declined at first before forcibly removing Scout from his quarters when he did not take no for an answer. With his vision returned to a point where he could walk safely, he looked inland, frowning when he saw that the beach was fenced off. Wading through the sand, he reached the fence and, after climbing over it, attempted to read the sign on it. He had no idea what it said, as it was in a language he had never seen. The one below made more sense.
Warning! Danger of dissociation! Please stay away from the beach!
Misha was confused. Dissociation? It was not a word he understood. Keeping Sasha raised, he made his way inland. The area was very flat, and as a result, he could see a city in the distance. Groaning to himself, Misha began walking towards it, across the scorched dirt.
Just half an hour of walking put Misha outside of the city limits. Deciding to take a page out of the Spy's book, instead of walking in, he waited, watching from a distance. He did not see any inhabitants, which he felt was strange for a city as large and as well-maintained as the one before him. As the sun slid beneath the horizon, night's chill beginning to bite, Misha made his way into the back streets. He almost spooled up Sasha when he heard explosions, but a quick glance to the sky assured him that they were merely fireworks.
Very few outside the city... Fireworks... Sounds like party...
Sticking to the alleyways, Misha stayed out of the way of lights and roads while making his way to the centre of the city, the sound of music growing louder with every step he took. The tower he had seen from the edge of the city loomed over the alley he was in, and Misha almost stepped out into a plaza full of people while distracted by the enormous fish coiled around the spire. Ducking back into the alley, he leant Sasha against the wall before he peeked around the corner, arching an eyebrow at the sight within.
A horde of children were gathered around two trucks, on which stood other creatures that did not look much older than the crowd. All sorts of graffiti adorned the well-lit billboards around the plaza, and Misha noticed that every single one of them involved either the North or South Pole. The older children were either singing undermining the other. Neither action mattered to the crowd, they only cheered louder.
"Come on North! Let's hear your support!"
A chorus of cheers from the left crowd was matched with jeering from the right.
"No way! Penguins for the peng-WIN!"
Cheers from the right with jeers from the left. In his bemusement with the spectacle before him, Misha failed to notice the figure sliding up behind him. A crash and a gasp caused Misha to whip around, snorting angrily. His anger was quickly replaced with amusement and curiosity; a young girl had tried to move Sasha and was currently pinned underneath the weapon's many barrels. She was struggling to try and push it off her. Misha leaned down, placing one of his massive hands around the barrels and lifting Sasha with no effort. He was shocked to see that on closer inspection, the girl's purple hair was not actually hair, but rather a pair of large tentacles.
"Little girl should not try to lift Sasha. She is big girl."
The small girl smiled at Misha, but it was replaced by fear. She backed away slowly.
"Y-y-you're not an Inkling..."
Misha had trouble believing what he saw next- the child melted, her features fading into a purple mess which reformed as a squid. This time, Misha stepped back, shouting in shock before clasping a hand over his mouth. Too late. Another child- another Inkling, was already staring around the corner at him. He heard a mass of footsteps. Misha took hold of Sasha and ran into the back alleys, taking many random turns in the hopes of shaking off his pursuers. He spotted a staircase and hid under it, the shadows masking his face. The sound of footsteps grew closer, several Inklings running past his hiding spot before slowly walking back towards the plaza after growing bored of the search. Biding his time, Misha waited until a lone Inkling was walking past, and spoke.
"You!"
The Inkling froze. It was a boy this time. He slowly turned towards Misha, who took care to make sure his face was in darkness.
"Yes you. Where can Heavy buy cloak?"
"J-Jelonzo's shop..."
"Where?"
"In the p-plaza, the one with the blue sign."
"Thank you." He leaned forward, allowing the child to see his face. "Tell no one."
The boy nodded before running away. Making his way back towards the plaza, navigating by the sound of the music, he soon saw the shop the Inkling had told him about. Casting a glance over the audience, he made sure there were no stragglers on his route before quickly crossing and walking into the shop, having to duck through the door. He raised an eyebrow again when he realised the owner was not human.
"Heavy needs cloak."
"Sorry... Only sale what shown..."
The jellyfish pointed to the small mannequins with shirts that were definitely too small for Heavy. He picked up a mannequin, holding it beside him to exaggerate his size.
"Heavy. Needs. Cloak." Another thought popped into his head. "With hood."
Quivering and nodding, Jelonzo went behind the counter, returning with a tape measure and taking Misha's measurements. He went back behind the counter again, this time picking up a phone.
"Colour?"
"Dark Red."
Jelonzo put the phone down and tapped the counter.
"Ten thousand."
Rolling his eyes, Heavy began peeling notes from the pile he had amassed fighting the robotic army, setting down ten thousand dollars. The owner looked at him strangely.
"Money not correct."
"Is ten thousand dollars."
"Not..."
Heavy turned on Jelonzo, leaning in close.
"Is ten thousand dollars."
Shaking heavily, Jelonzo took the money, putting it into a cash register.
"Come tomorrow cloak pick up."
Spending the night in the streets of a strange city was much more comfortable than getting lost in the Siberian wastes, Misha had noticed. It was a lot warmer, for starters, and this time, he had his Sandviches, which still regenerated, much to his delight. Keeping watch from first light, he waited for the clothing shop to open. When the sign was flipped around, Misha moved, crossing the currently empty plaza and ducking into the shop. Folded up on the counter was his cloak, and Jelonzo merely pointed to it, letting Misha pick it up himself. He unfolded it, and quickly put it on, flipping the hood up before leaving. Outside was still devoid of life. However, he noticed that a large screen had been turned on, and a news bulletin was playing, presented by the two older Inklings he had seen the night before.
"Hold onto your tentacles..."
"It's Inkopolis news time!"
"So, Marie! You have a story!"
"Yes Callie, I do."
"Come on, let's hear it!"
The one on the right, Marie, turned to the camera.
"Last night, directly after the end of Splatfest, an Inkling came in and told us a very frightening story."
A blurry image of Misha appeared on-screen, taken by someone in the crowd.
"This creature was spotted just outside the plaza! Right under our noses!"
"Marie, what is it?"
"No-one knows, Callie! And word is this giant is still in the city!"
"Have the scientists said anything?"
"Even they don't know! It's a mystery! If you have something to say about it, drop it off at the studio letterbox!"
The report turned away from him and to a subject Misha was not interested in. Walking back out of the plaza, he headed out of the city and towards the beach, climbing over the fence and sitting down near the shore. The tide was out, and Misha inspected the place where he had arrived the night before. He frowned when he saw that there were two perfect imprints of his feet in the sand, and that the surface had actually become glass in a small area. He sat there for a long time, the tide growing closer every second. He dug the footprints out of the dust, rinsing the glass in the sea before sitting down again further up the beach. At that point, he saw a platform, cut off by the tide. He waded out to it, noticing the high tide point was several feet below another large platform inside a cave. Pulling himself up, he saw a rift that opened out to the surface near the back of the cave, too small to climb through, but large enough for a small squid. Leaving the cave and heading to the crack, he began to scoop handfuls of earth into it, pressing it down and compacting it to keep it in place. He then began tearing out the small trees around, breaking the logs up and stacking them inside the cave, far above the water line. He took a larger log and propped it in place, sitting down on it for a short while before carrying on his "construction".
He worked well into the night, creating a small fire pit and seat by a scratching at the wood with a pointed rock. It was hard work, even for Misha. At one point, he just collapsed, falling asleep in his home for the time being.
Light streaming into the cave woke Misha the next morning, and he was surprised to see an envelope with an emblem on it. Picking it up, he opened it and read the second iteration of the letter inside, as the first was in the unknown language.
To Mr Giant,
We know you're out here, and we hope you read this.
You are a celebrity!
That's right, you're famous! No-one knows who or what you are, not even Judd, and he's really old. So, we want you to take part in an interview! To let Inkopolis know you're not just some monster that lurks in alleyways. If you're in, just come to the plaza studio today and show this letter, it'll get you past security.
Stay fresh!
C & M
PS: There are Inklings who would quite happily splat someone for this letter. Keep it safe.
Misha scratched his head, chewing on a Sandvich as he contemplated the offer. Donning his cloak, he took hold of the letter and stepped out of the cave, a flash of green and sharp gasp heralding his exit. He climbed on top of his cave, glaring at the Inkling hiding on top of it. She stared at him fearfully.
"Little squid should not trespass. Leave."
The girl morphed into a squid and blasted off, arcing towards the city, catching Misha and the surrounding land in a spray of ink. He cried out in shock, wiping it away as best he could before heading towards the city himself. He still stuck to the alleys, noticing that at several points, he was watched from the rooftops by more children. Ignoring them, he made his way to the plaza, which was now full of Inklings going about their business. As he stepped into the plaza, all conversations ceased as he walked through, his face concealed by his hood and Sasha by his side. He walked straight up to the studio and showed the letter. The Inklings on security stepped aside, allowing him access to the parlour.
"Aha! Welcome!"
Callie and Marie were already sat there, along with a camera. Marie was waving at him. He waved back. He looked at the sisters, and then to the extremely small seat.
"I will need bigger seat."
The sisters looked at each other, Callie going to speak before Misha held up his hand.
"Forget it. I will sit."
Moving the chair out of the way, he sat down heavily, the table rattling as he did so. Callie immediately started questioning him.
"Are going to take off the hood?"
Misha looked at the camera, then to the windows. Outside, a swarm of Inklings were pressed against the glass. Sighing, he pulled his hood down, staring directly into the camera before returning his attention to the sisters.
"Sooooo, what's your name?" Callie asked.
"Associates call me Heavy Weapons Guy."
"Why do they call you that?"
Raising an eyebrow, Misha set Sasha on the table, and Callie gasped.
"Oh... It's so big..."
Rolling her eyes, Marie asked the next question.
"Do you have an actual name?"
"Heavy would prefer not to say."
"No? Alright. Where did you get your weapon?"
"Made her myself. She weighs one hundred and fifty kilograms and fires two hundred dollar custom cartridges."
"That sounds... Expensive. And heavy."
"It costs four hundred thousand dollars to fire this weapon for twelve seconds."
"Amazing..." Callie gasped.
"So then, uh, Heavy. What do you do? Do you have a job?"
"Had. Was paid to defend facility from robots."
"That sounds... Exciting."
"Was difficult. Heavy has died many times."
"Get over it. Everyone in that plaza has died several times."
"Children are soldiers?" Misha asked incredulously.
"It's all fun! You've never heard of a Turf War before? Or Tower Control?"
Misha shook his head.
"Splat Zones?"
Misha shook his head.
"Rainmaker?"
"Heavy was paid to defend facility from robots. That is all Heavy does."
"You have got to try a Turf War at some point."
"What is Turf War?"
That statement snapped Callie out of her daze.
"You've never played a Turf War? Just when have you been living?"
"1972."