p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"emPale summer moonlight shimmers on the ocean floor. An octopus, unaware that dawn will bring capture, rests within a trap, dreaming fleeting dreams.../em/p
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p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"A beautiful song drifted through the girl's head as she floated there in the void. The vocals were powerful and filled with authenticity, and the melody was stunningly fascinating. She almost felt like she could reach out and take ahold of the nearly-tangible chorus. Like she could see the notes being played out on some invisible instrument. But when she reached out, she felt nothing. It was just her, the song, and the blackness. It continued to penetrate her soul in a way that she never wanted to stop, filling her with life and freedom. She let her arm fall again, and let the song suspend her there in the darkness./p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Then she opened her eyes. /p
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p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Up n' at em, soldier!" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"An old man stood, trembling, over her, leaning heavily on a hollow stick probably not meant to hold his weight. He shook in what she would venture to call a violent manner as he continued to babble on, and, rather than listen to what he had to say, she wondered if she should get up to help him. She managed to sit up, but when she realized she could hardly support herself, she decided that maybe she should start paying attention./p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Let's say we call a temporary truce." He offered, removing his hand from his walking stick to extend it to her. She attempted to pull herself to her feet, not taking his hand for fear he might fall over, but failed. She tried again, sitting up before working her way to a standing position. Her balance was scanty at best, and she nearly fell a few times before attempting a step forward. It almost felt like her body didn't belong to her. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""What's your name?" The old man— an inkling— asked. As she tried to answer, she came to the full realization that she had no idea who she was. She didn't know her name. Where she had come from. Who she was. She began to panic a bit, her breathing growing heavy and fast. Who was this guy? Could she trust him? She started walking down one the darkened hallways, and he followed. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""This is the part where you tell me your name." He hinted as the two moved farther into the concrete building. Tears of frustration and confusion formed in her eyes as she came to the reality that she didn't know how to respond. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""I'm Captain Cuttlefish." He introduced, seemingly forgetting he had asked a question, "Leader of the legendary Squidbeak Splatoon!" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"They continued down a series of thin hallways, each one littered with a different variety of strange junk. Stacks of boxes filled some, while others sported decorations and murals she couldn't quite make sense of. But the thing that bothered her the most were the IV bags scattered across the whole place. Every couple meters or so, a clear bag filled with luminescent blue liquid hung from the wall, a series of thin tubes hanging from each one. She tried not to focus on them, but instead kept her eyes on the tracks ahead of her. They kept on for another minute or so before finally coming to a locked glass door, embedded with a oddly familiar logo that she couldn't quite identify. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Looks like you'll have to find the key." The captain asserted, indicating a room that branched off of the main track. It was filled with wooden boxes that would take ages to pry open. But it was either this or turn around. She made her way toward the room, only to have her way blocked by a glass turnstile. It brought up a semitransparent display screen, suspending a gun in the air in front of her. It prompted her to take it. emSplattershot Jr./em, the text underneath the weapon read. She reached out to pluck the weapon from the air. It came away surprisingly easily, and there was no resistance when she pulled it away. The glass slid down, allowing her entrance to the room. She began spraying around when she walked in, breaking every box in sight. It wasn't long before a golden key clattered to the ground. She picked it up from the piles of debris she had caused, and returned to the exit. The room blocked her way as she left, taking back the small weapon (Much to the annoyance of Cuttlefish). But she had the key. She inserted it into the lock, and went on with her journey. After some time, the two finally came to a clearing. A lone, rusty pole stood in the center of the courtyard, a strange box with brass fittings atop it. As she approached, it began emitting a terrible, nearly crippling ringing sound. She could hardly stand while hearing it. She finally reached the box, and yanked one of the golden protrusions off of the side in an attempt to destroy it. The ringing stopped, but another warbling sound replaced it. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Greetings, 10,008!" It exclaimed in a broken, artificial tone. 10,008... was that her? /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Your current location is Deepsea Metro Central Station. My primary function is to facilitate your journey to the Promised Land. Pleased to make your acquaintance."/p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Location. So she was in the Deepse Metro. Which meant absolutely nothing to her. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Assessing communication efficiency." The box croaked out, "12.42%. Enabling contemporary speech mode." /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"She wasn't sure what contemporary speech was, but if it could talk to her, it was welcome. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""What is crackalacking, my home skillet?" It continued. emHad it started speaking another language?/em She looked to the captain, desperate for help. He seemed to be understanding what it was saying, but if he did, he didn't say so. It continued on in that broken dialect for a while, and eventually spit out a small plastic card. It clattered to the floor before a blocky metal device followed, making a louder, hollow clang. She picked up the two items, shoving the card into her pocket and clipping the silver gadget onto her belt. As soon as she had finished, a faint, distant rumbling noise filled her ears, and she turned to try to identify it. She couldn't tell what was making the sound, or what direction it was coming from. Soon, the humming grew louder, and a dim white light filled one of the tunnels. A huge, metal train rolled into the station, and she exhaled in relief. It was just a train. She went to board it, but she could still feel the empty, lifeless, eye sockets boring into her back. She didn't dare look back. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Applicant 10,008." Cuttlefish said somewhat airily as he followed, "That's a mouthful. How about I call you Agent 8?"/p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"She stepped on, and the doors silently slid shut as soon as the captain entered the car. The two sat down, and she now realized just how exhausted she was. How long had it been since she woke up? It didn't matter. She knew she was tired now, and she needed to sleep. Her questions could wait until later. She laid her head on the windowsill, and let the steady purring of the train's wheels against the track sing her to sleep. /p
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p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"A beautiful song drifted through the girl's head as she floated there in the void. The vocals were powerful and filled with authenticity, and the melody was stunningly fascinating. She almost felt like she could reach out and take ahold of the nearly-tangible chorus. Like she could see the notes being played out on some invisible instrument. But when she reached out, she felt nothing. It was just her, the song, and the blackness. It continued to penetrate her soul in a way that she never wanted to stop, filling her with life and freedom. She let her arm fall again, and let the song suspend her there in the darkness./p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Then she opened her eyes. /p
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p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Up n' at em, soldier!" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"An old man stood, trembling, over her, leaning heavily on a hollow stick probably not meant to hold his weight. He shook in what she would venture to call a violent manner as he continued to babble on, and, rather than listen to what he had to say, she wondered if she should get up to help him. She managed to sit up, but when she realized she could hardly support herself, she decided that maybe she should start paying attention./p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Let's say we call a temporary truce." He offered, removing his hand from his walking stick to extend it to her. She attempted to pull herself to her feet, not taking his hand for fear he might fall over, but failed. She tried again, sitting up before working her way to a standing position. Her balance was scanty at best, and she nearly fell a few times before attempting a step forward. It almost felt like her body didn't belong to her. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""What's your name?" The old man— an inkling— asked. As she tried to answer, she came to the full realization that she had no idea who she was. She didn't know her name. Where she had come from. Who she was. She began to panic a bit, her breathing growing heavy and fast. Who was this guy? Could she trust him? She started walking down one the darkened hallways, and he followed. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""This is the part where you tell me your name." He hinted as the two moved farther into the concrete building. Tears of frustration and confusion formed in her eyes as she came to the reality that she didn't know how to respond. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""I'm Captain Cuttlefish." He introduced, seemingly forgetting he had asked a question, "Leader of the legendary Squidbeak Splatoon!" /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"They continued down a series of thin hallways, each one littered with a different variety of strange junk. Stacks of boxes filled some, while others sported decorations and murals she couldn't quite make sense of. But the thing that bothered her the most were the IV bags scattered across the whole place. Every couple meters or so, a clear bag filled with luminescent blue liquid hung from the wall, a series of thin tubes hanging from each one. She tried not to focus on them, but instead kept her eyes on the tracks ahead of her. They kept on for another minute or so before finally coming to a locked glass door, embedded with a oddly familiar logo that she couldn't quite identify. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Looks like you'll have to find the key." The captain asserted, indicating a room that branched off of the main track. It was filled with wooden boxes that would take ages to pry open. But it was either this or turn around. She made her way toward the room, only to have her way blocked by a glass turnstile. It brought up a semitransparent display screen, suspending a gun in the air in front of her. It prompted her to take it. emSplattershot Jr./em, the text underneath the weapon read. She reached out to pluck the weapon from the air. It came away surprisingly easily, and there was no resistance when she pulled it away. The glass slid down, allowing her entrance to the room. She began spraying around when she walked in, breaking every box in sight. It wasn't long before a golden key clattered to the ground. She picked it up from the piles of debris she had caused, and returned to the exit. The room blocked her way as she left, taking back the small weapon (Much to the annoyance of Cuttlefish). But she had the key. She inserted it into the lock, and went on with her journey. After some time, the two finally came to a clearing. A lone, rusty pole stood in the center of the courtyard, a strange box with brass fittings atop it. As she approached, it began emitting a terrible, nearly crippling ringing sound. She could hardly stand while hearing it. She finally reached the box, and yanked one of the golden protrusions off of the side in an attempt to destroy it. The ringing stopped, but another warbling sound replaced it. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Greetings, 10,008!" It exclaimed in a broken, artificial tone. 10,008... was that her? /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Your current location is Deepsea Metro Central Station. My primary function is to facilitate your journey to the Promised Land. Pleased to make your acquaintance."/p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Location. So she was in the Deepse Metro. Which meant absolutely nothing to her. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Assessing communication efficiency." The box croaked out, "12.42%. Enabling contemporary speech mode." /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"She wasn't sure what contemporary speech was, but if it could talk to her, it was welcome. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""What is crackalacking, my home skillet?" It continued. emHad it started speaking another language?/em She looked to the captain, desperate for help. He seemed to be understanding what it was saying, but if he did, he didn't say so. It continued on in that broken dialect for a while, and eventually spit out a small plastic card. It clattered to the floor before a blocky metal device followed, making a louder, hollow clang. She picked up the two items, shoving the card into her pocket and clipping the silver gadget onto her belt. As soon as she had finished, a faint, distant rumbling noise filled her ears, and she turned to try to identify it. She couldn't tell what was making the sound, or what direction it was coming from. Soon, the humming grew louder, and a dim white light filled one of the tunnels. A huge, metal train rolled into the station, and she exhaled in relief. It was just a train. She went to board it, but she could still feel the empty, lifeless, eye sockets boring into her back. She didn't dare look back. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Applicant 10,008." Cuttlefish said somewhat airily as he followed, "That's a mouthful. How about I call you Agent 8?"/p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"She stepped on, and the doors silently slid shut as soon as the captain entered the car. The two sat down, and she now realized just how exhausted she was. How long had it been since she woke up? It didn't matter. She knew she was tired now, and she needed to sleep. Her questions could wait until later. She laid her head on the windowsill, and let the steady purring of the train's wheels against the track sing her to sleep. /p
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;" /p