Act 3: Redemption
Part 8: Cyanide and Dreams

"Memories can be vile. Repulsive little brutes, like children I suppose. But can we live without them? Memories are what our reason is based upon. If we can't face them, we deny reason itself! Although, why not? We aren't contractually tied down to rationality. There is no sanity clause. So when you find yourself locked down in an unpleasant train of thought, heading for the places in your past where the screaming is unbearable, remember: There's always madness. You can just step outside and close the door, and all those dreadful things that happened, you can lock them away. Madness... is an emergency exit." - Joker

It hasn't even been full 24 hours since that vile abomination released me with 'best regards' and somehow I've managed to set a whole bloody world against myself. Ugh, that talk with Lena wasn't a good one. But where's one why not the other.

"Orrrgh, for crying out loud Rick. Stop. Narrating. Yourself. Inside MY HEAD you cod damn provoking shitbird! [I...He..We are marching around the room in frustration, waving hands in the air. This is going in history as a bad day.] Oh, calm down already… - Calm down?! CALM DOWN!? Yeyeye suuuuure~! [He muttered that rapidly and benervously with giggles and continued with a broken yell] YOU couldn't live in satisfaction and enjoy the fruits of OUR accomplishments! Oh no, that's not 'da wae', that's not how humans do! You had to F-F-f-fUck everything up, didn't ya?!"

"Rick…?"

"FFFFFUUUUUUck him~ [I grab my frontal tentacles and pull them down with force just like I stretch my words. But then I let them go and put my hand on the chest, trying to reason] I admit, I regret coming to Plaza and I definitely don't like this 'job', but do you really have to throw tantrum? - Yes, yes I DO, you parasitic evolved hairless ass walking ape! Octavio and common sense stopped dating long ago - You used to prai - hmh, and I also used to live under the fucking iron curtain, a pair of brainwashing pilot glasses and untreated mental trauma caused by-! - Rear wheel drive dolphins, I know."

"Rick, I'm naked" Erin interrupts me with her typical behavior, sitting on her knees in her bed. Her hands reached for the sky as she was intentionally stretched up with the speed of the sloth animal, turning left and right to demonstrate all her beauty.

"So what?!" ...And I turned and yelled at her, snapped at her. Emotions first, rational thinking later. Good job me, real fucking wise to yell at someone trying to help. I back off in shame. She keeps smiling, but I know her enough to see worry and concern and maim I delt hiding behind that cute face of hers.

"Erin, my dearest hyper positive squid with averagely lowered social responsibility and addiction to benefits. I'm having a bad day, throwing tantrums with everyone within sight including myself and top it all off - this idiot got us in the situation where I have to go and meet fish I treat similar to how you see your own mother. And you're not helping!"

And with that all her positivity and smile fades away with her hands slowly crumbling down and face expression pretty much giving up the awnser.

"...Oh."

Moments later she lays down on her belly and bends her leg as if she's posing for the camera

"Maybe you two can bury the roller of war and give me a massage then?"

That innocent smile and friendly tunes in her voice ruined by visible concern ready to bleed from her eyes. She really has a talent of making me feel like an asshole with burnùing grip of guilt and self destruction choking me from inside. Fine. Stress chats gonna turn me into a haggard mess. So be it. I walk over to the cupboard and grab a small glass can of extra spicy red looking ointment from there. Looks like a vile mixture of grinded pepper and jelly; warms the skin and it's auroma will make eyes cry for mercy. I'd say this is some kind of hell medicine from Asia...maybe it is. Dip my hands in this stuff, walk to Erin, sit near her and do the work.

Hands traversing her body back and forth, tasting the joy of smooth skin and light tan, accompanied by the faint stench of perfume. Palms goin in circles, fingers squease and click here and there, knuckles roll down from her neck down her soft spine. No one teached me how to do it, nor did I try to learn it myself. I just do it, because she asked and I don't mind to halt our little insult exchange. I know - I know. Everyone told me not to go, yet my curiosity let us here. At least she enjoys it, breathes softly and cutely. Aw, that faint blush on her cheeks. Damn you girl, killing two birds with one stone: free massage and stopping our argument.

But seriously Rick, is it that necessary for you to know it all? Race for answers only led to no goods and I'm intoxicated by bumpy rides you send us on. To top it all off, let's not forget about that conversation you and Gre- ah, sorry - Helena had. Don't even think of me as a masochist, but you deserved that beat down. You owe her an apology, you owe ME an apology…. Should've listened to others's opinions but I doubt you'll listen this time.

"Can you do me a little favor?" Here goes nothing.

Erin stretch her hands with lazy faint moan

"Not gonna fix your relations for ya, he-he" She slightly turns her head to me and giggles with a blush. I roll my eyes and nag

"Thanks, agent obvious. I wanted to help with..[sigh] Getting to DJ Octavio. Where's he and how can I get near him for...unfriendly chat."

"You really gonna go through this? [She shakes her head and stretches again, returning her typically positive tone] Well, I'll take you with me next time I'm gonna visit him. You know, provision delivery. But for now~"

She winks and I gaze her in the eyes letting her know that I'm not in a mood for her debauchery. Even faked child offended face expressions and puppy eyes can't fail to convince me to change my answer.

*Around a day later*

Not even once I even imagined using my octo form to sail into the rivers of literal shit. And to make it more memorable Erin acted as an enthusiastic guide on the tourist tour of 'dirty roads' as she called it; bragging and making jokes. Using sewers to save fast traver. Fucking. Sewers. Next thing that surprised me was the utility room with the mesh pipe leading to the surface. This room has been expanded and turned into a makeshift dressing place with a shower, which after such a ride felt like a blessing. And thank the biology god or whatever responsible for protecting our clothes for getting dirty while we use our squid/octo forms. That unexplainable trait of our bodies just saved me some dignity. As for Erin, and I can tell by just looking at her - she's well acquainted and used to doing such travels. After all is an agent and working in - for the lack of better word - publicly known black ops unit. Whenever shit goes down news just has to mention Agent 1 and 2. Or maybe they maintain this myth of anonymous vigilantes. Squid Sisters and their ego..

Exiting the pipe via squid/octo form and we've reached our destination...or so she says, making her way to the blast door with a code panel. While she's at it, I look around: an old abandoned shack on the right. Erin tells me this is where legendary Captain Cuttlefish used to live, tired of the cities and spending his retirement days watching over his arch adversary, who we're gonna meet. . Not anymore...Straight in the middle are two metal sticks with sticks with a warning yellow tape and it's tips dangling on the wind; making the cliff. I step close to it and the sorrow outskirts of Octo Canyon appear below. Just look at all the vast territory, floating structures, bunker entrances, desolated outposts and domes. Seems like a field after the battle, but in reality it's just a result of Helena/Erin's activity multiplied and expanded by poor economy and government. And we're going to the source, the reason behind the suffering of many octolings, dumbo octopuses and other sealings..with a bag of food, water and questions. Sigh. Metal creak forcefully stretching its roar behind me indicates that the way is open. Frontal tentacle gets a hold on a flashlight and we begin to descend on the stair into the dust and darkness.

Walking through dusty corridors, illuminated by the moonlight peeking through cracked windows. No electricity, no water Old empty prison with one old inmate left to do his time in a holy paradise for sociopaths - absolute silence, disturbed by our marching feet and occasional coughs from all the dust filling the air from our presence. Whoever shoved him here has to be a creative sadist. A torment by isolation and loneliness? A fate worse than death...fits our monster just fine. To make our trip less grim I turn in some old music we both can relate to:

I do not feel like myself, I think I might be something else,

And I don't think I can tell if I am dreaming

My mind is packed and leaving, I'm barely breathing

Did I always have the potential I'm revealing

I have become something new, or am I turning into you

And will I even make it through this delusion

Or is this evolution my new solution

Losing sight of what I once was, it might get gruesome

I feel like I'm ten feet tall, and nothing frightens me at all

Ready to fight and tonight I'm out of control

I'm finally done concealing I'm feeling like an animal

(The Living Tombstone - Animal)

I turn off the song as we approach a dustless metal door, surrounded by empty bottles, cans and full garbage bags. Er takes her backpack, sits and proceeds to unpack it; briefly pointing at the door

"Here's there. Have fun chatting"

I look at her

"And you?"

"I'm gonna clean up a bit, then set up the camping stove for cooking. You go ahead"

I reach the handle, but just before opening the door, I turn my head to Erin with a faint smile

"I owe you one"

"Hope you're not gonna kill him" S

She finally chuckled, without a moment of distraction from unpacking all the stuff she carried. But this ain't no pun for me. I turn the handle and with the words 'You and me both…' enter the lair of the motherfucking nazi. Rick, untill we leave this room, I'm doing the talk.

Pink and sickly overgrown octopus trapped in a box, made from heavily armored glass, illuminated by the holes in the ceiling, seemingly made by someone for a reason...maybe enough to squeeze a package with snags. And here it is - our 'hero' of the united lands; once a rebel prince and inventor. Now? You don't want to know. Almost one hundred and thirty damned years and now he's rotting behind the glass. Heh, bet that's not how he saw his retirement plan. He barely turns in my direction, then suddenly turns more with a mixed reaction in his eyes, switching his full attention to me. He looked at me with disbelief, surprise even; but those quickly went missing under the grim look of disappointment as he hums.

"...you?"

I sigh and cross arms. N̡o ͝m̸ore m͟as̡k̡s, no͡ ͘moŗe p͠r҉e͝t̨en̢ding͠.͠.no ͘m͟ore ͞bul͏l̶shit.̧ T͏im͡e͜ ̵to̡ ͘be me͠

"...surprised I'm still alive, father?" Asshohe spilled with unwelcoming tone in his voice

"No. I'm surprised to see you siding up with inkling scum [He spewed out with disgust and disappointment. After a short pause he added ]Why are you here?"

"If I were a responsible adult with no childhood and shattered world view I'd say I came to kill you. Lucky for you I'm an irresponsible piece of sea plankton full of questions, satisfaction and parasitic puppeteer playing victim. Certain someone told me that there's something fishy going on since you've been doing actual work which isn't your redeeming quality if I'm being politely honest [Asshole stops, gazing at Octavio. He grabs the chair near the cage and blows some dust from it] It's been a weird vibe lately....No iron curtain, different perspective, answers, connections I never asked for, a sinister cloud of looming uncertainty. Being brought to live among 'the enemy' changed my view on things. Starting with you…"

No words came in reply. Only silent grunts of an old man, sick of seeing his 'progeny' betraying him. Maybe he's just sick of having a company or listening to criticism. Hell, I'd shoot myself for sure if I was stuck behind bars with no escape and forced to listen annyong brainwashing speeches from stereotypical boss, wife or mother-in-law….especially mother-in-law! But that's just me and Asshole taking the seat and continuing to spill out his thoughts. Oh, the levels of shit this overgrown octopus is about to hear...

"Lets face it: our entire infrastructure, our culture, our morals, our future are infected by the disease with long term consequences. Its called 'Ruller is a fucking idiot'. Yep…"

Silent look of suppressed hate shined in Octavio's eyes. Asshole only smirked, adding more fuel to the fire:

"Our turf wheezers, choked up with fanatics, savage loyalists, brainwashed plebs. Whatever you'd call it, it's a goddamn epidemic"

"Inkling scum ruined everything…! Them and that old crag! Especially after the Green Terror showed up!" He roared like a scary engine, I grin in frustration from the insult, interrupting him:

"And she did something about it! Somebody had to! Your goddamn shenanigans ARE dangerous [A short pause occurred to slightly cool down and return to insulting strategy] With age comes wisdom or so they say, judging by your unchangeable course of actions."

Octavio laughed in ignorance

"You're no one to judge me. Just a soldier-"

Asshole interrupts him again with cold toned disgust.

"Elite solder with experience in assassinations, expertise in maintenance and repair of electrical systems. I can power up the entire Octo Canyon without hiring or stealing a single zapfish. Name someone else, who can pull that off? [short pause of intimidation] Yeeaaah, that's what I thought...You don't mess with the best, and my now dead comrades can tell you I'M the best."

Octavio gazed at me and shook his head. I don't want to listen to them biting each other's throats like meth addicted politics. We agreed that he'll be talking, getting that damn info so that undead bitch would kindly go to hell and leave me alone. And yet they keep acting like two alpha monkeys looked in one cage

"Oh, I remember well thank you for asking! 'The goal always justifies the means'. I hope you don't mind if I rephrase that into the goal justifies MY ASS! And it isn't justified for well known reasons!"

"Phah! So you shift blame on me for being a faint filled pussy?!"

"No-no-no [Asshole extends right arm with one finger lifted and swinging like a pendulum. Here comes sassy sarcasm] How can I blame such noble twat for sending A WHOLE FUCKING generation to the bunkers, undeground cities and shiiter life because - drammatic drumm pause [and he litteraly beat the imaginary drumms with his hands...oh god, he's no better than a phyco now. And then his bullshit stops as he stares at Octavio with death glare and says] your boyfriend! Like seriously?! Love is your excuse to mix everything with garbage?! [he growled irritably and made a jumpy 180 turn] Call me a homophob but this is exactly fucking why rule with your BRAIN. NOT. WITH YOUR GENITALS! [100% agree here even though I wouldn't scream at him so loud with all this pointing and intimidating walking you just did. Arg,h who am I talking to anyway, you're too caught up in this shit to hear me.] And then you got so caught up in revenge you dragged us all into your petty 'opsie'!"

"H..how did you….?!"

"I'm an asshole, dad! I have manners!"

".Rgh, You're mentally sick, unstable. Go lock yourself in mad house or something"

"Я не сошел с ума [Asshole spoke with bits of sadness and paused, shaking his head with arms crossing on the chest. Why are you talking in a language he won't understand?] ….Ты многое не знаешь. Ah, You know what. Here's a joke instead: if the lives of countless children are screwed over by the government's doctrine, does this make the current ruler a pedofile?" And the sinister smile reignites an ocean of hate in Octavio's eyes. He punched the glass with two tentacles and moved closer to the glass with irritation and anger brewing in his voice

"You, disrespectful, creeping scum... I'm your king, your father!"

Asshole pointed at him, semi-closing eyes to look more intimidating

"I beg to differ. See, you never were MY father. And I'm not the little obedient U35 you once 'knew'. I'm no more than a doppler of myself. I'm one [he pointed at his head] but there are many."

Nothing but senile grunts and growl came in return. Asshole sight

"I've seen your methods, your tactics and policy. Suffice to say it always fascinated me just how ruthless and inefficient you are. Not saying that I'd be any better, but cod mark my words - some decitions of yours is questinable at best: sending girls on the front lines while guys are getting promoted into higher ranks one after another; wasting resources and those fucking zapfishes on 'Great' Octo Weapons, brainwashing people to prevent riots and discontent. Why? Why is it so hard to stick with making your turf and sealings life better, reinforcing the economy to make sure we can afford this grand plan of vengeance? Shell, you could've just gone with Black Night vol. 2 - brainwash entire Inkopolis into rabbits and see it collapsing in a day or two of animal drive pushing those poor souls to the grave! Heh...even a fucking mad fish like your tully managed to came up with better plan in a minute when you coudn't do it in your ~120 years of rule."

Calm and constructive criticism seems to screw his rotten ego. He is getting angrier and more frustrated; and Asshole keeps on getting more salty, spilling the truth as easily as one plays guitar. I can feel how he's bathing in joy, starting at the one who oppressed him for years with an evil sadistic smile, hiding frustration and sorrow, as it gets more bitter and spicy with all those unwanted memories rolling back. Pain pulsing in the head, forcing his nose to bleed.

"….Oh, I almost forgot about all those adopted kids you got, how kind of you. Then why were there no girls among us - your beloved children of a great DJ Octavio? Why did we never get our names? Many treated us like...trrgh, something below trash. You promised us protection and a brighter future, but you gave us numbers and abuse. Thinking about this makes me sick."

He punched the glass even harder with an angry roar, but it sounded pale, muffed by the glass too strong to fall under his rage.

"If you won't shut up, I'll break this pathetic prison and remix your face with my bare tentacles and remind you to respect your elders!"

But Asshole laughed it off, holding belly and bending knees and back, speaking with pure sarcasm, roasting him.

"Oh no, not the tentacles, Senpai! I'm SO afraid of angry old octopuses! PLS don't punish me. Ha! [ he dropped the act, getting back on the chair] Is that supposed to be a thread? You don't even have an eight ball to make this remotely spooky. Wanna get out? Welp, good luck with that [ he shrugged, smirking at the sight of powerless aggression coming from the other side of the glass] After all, you already won."

Octavio stopped, raising one of his eyebrows. My hands went up to play with my own tentacles while Asshole keep talking

"What are talking about, peasant?"

I bit my lip and shoe frontal tentacles away, gazing at Octavio's angry pinkish body gazing back with disgust. I lower the tone and slowly walk closer to his 'cage'.

"Don't play dummy with me, you dombo. Dead, alive or rotting behind glass, your legacy and ideology keep doing their dirty work. There are idiots believing in your teachings, your ideas; army of loyalists. Should I be an idiot and kill you, that'll only benefit those assholes. A great ruler captured and slain by a traitor, the enemy defector supporting the Green Terror herself. Nice excuse to push your agenda and feel good about it, innit? Too bad you're stuck is isolation till your ink sac run dry"

Tension is rising like pressure in the gages, Asshole added

"Humans used to say 'Omae wa mou shindeiru' which means 'you are already dead'. Fits you like a glove."

Suddenly I twiched, control felt back in my hands even if this is just temporary. I shake my head, wipe off blood from the nose and put a bloody hand against the glass.

"But enough of salting out wounds [My voice gets darker, shaky as I clench my blooded hand into a shaking first and point it at giant octo with disrespect. Asshole's words, his tone spilled out my mouth, mixing with mine] I'm here to play minecraft and you're my bunch of rocks full of info. Get the hint? Play the good old king and tell me what I want, then I'll leave. I hate you, you'd killed me given the chance so you can make our both lives easier"

Octavio looks surprised, observing me as if I'm a lab rat trapped in a cage. Then he chucked with ignorance on his face, crossing two tentacles like he'd crossed arms

"Miserable wretch. Looking at your pathetic existence is sickening. Fine. Ask."

I ignore that insult with a faint smile and burst of satisfaction. Finally making progress! Or so I want to think. Asshole keeps the pace, asking questions both useful and not. Octavio behaves, uh... fishy so to say. He knows nothing about what DeadF1sh wants to know. Not surprising, considering he's been here for quite some time. Still, something seems off here. What if he's lying or hiding information because he hates me for my 'defection'? I'm getting tired of that overgrown pink narcissistic nazi, he might feel the same way. Why can't we just leave him and go back? Is this your way to punish me for my poor choices? Sigh..

Clocks tell that half an hour has passed and got zero results. Not a single bit of into worth all the trouble getting here and listening to your family scandal. I͞ thin̛k̴ ҉wè'r̨e͢ don̛e h̕ere. And so without any more words to share I get up and go to the exit door without saying goodbye.

"Go on then, leave back to your 'new' life among the hypocritic slippers of society! ...you and your agent friends can all go to the bottom"

I stop near the door with my hand already grabbing the handle. Aashole, don't! Just leave this old sad fish -Nah Rick. You may be soft, but the only one who have promotion to insult your girl is ME! This is personal. He's provoking you, idiot! Oh god, here we go again…Turning around and aggressively going back to the Octavio, pointing at him

"Watch your mouth, you Insignificant speck of frequent scum! Hele -rrgh, Green Terror might not be an angel and I'm not gonna defend her atrocities against our kind, but she does have something you lack: a sense of conscience and guilt"

He bursts into laughter and I grind my teeth in disgust. He asks

"I'm not talking about your poor squid, you brainwashed idiot!"

"Wha-?"

He leaned closer to me, eyes filled with vexing joy, drilling my soul

"Oh, you don't even know the half of shit going with this so called 'new squid beak splatoon"

"How do they bitching around and do nothing?"

"..." I sigh, having a bad feeling about the way he smiles

"There's more, isn't it?"

"Ever wondered where we get all this tech and resources for our superior weaponry?"

"You could be lying. What makes you think I'll believe you? Where's your proof on whatever you got to say?"

"Ask DeadF1sh in Inkopolis Plaza"

I only raised an eyebrow

"You know that whore?"

"I knew a wagon of whores, but this one is on a whole different level, chasing shadows, breaking bones and twisting nature's limbs."

"Yea, she has a pretty suicidal agenda. Alright...Go on"

"This whole revenge doctrine became pointless direction of propaganda after I made a deal with a certain powerful benefactor. Tech for life stock. They need octolings for...whatever reasons and I get some fancy technology."

"W-wait-wait-wait! What did you just said?"

"I've made a deal with a superior force. And that's not all. Demand keeps going up, supply - not so much. Yea, I bribed them alright. Agents stay out of my affairs and send their little pet pawn where I need, cause chaos and death. Survivors are send to-"

His words start to blur away as I lose connection with reality. It all comes together; I stumble back but hit the chair and fall on the ground, morphing into the octo form. Conspirence unraveled before me, all pieces of the puzzles and answers coming together.

"..They helped us build our future for a small, pitty price…"

Does that mean he sold our people…?

"...had to act quietly, make it look like a desertion or abduction…"

..Send them to die, to suffer, to forget and be used…No...no-no-no…

"...parasitic failure...enjoy your pathetic life with those inkling scums."

I hear loud, frenzy laugh, turning into scream and getting louder; echoing from inside, snapping me like a broken glass. I am drowning in emotions, barely breathing, choking as if I'm drowning for real. My hand points at him, my lips shake, whispering with a broken voice, as I struggle to retain control and stand still.

"Ww-hy? Why would you..."

But Octavio just smirked like a sadist and kept talking. I couldn't hear a word tho. I can barely hear myself...ourselves! I...I'm shocked, paralyzed with pure shook, connecting the dots. Asshole...your own father….He sold you. He raised me just to sell me to the machine. Tartar. Who else? My eye is twitching, limbs and lips shaking, and my head's getting heavy. And he kept on speaking, mocking, laughing, explaining. White noise blends in with memories and flashbacks, Something is dying inside with every twist of his mouth, every move of his old yellow eyes...

All the cases of missing octolings. Henela's attacks on our facilities and outposts. All this propaganda and provocation. Even that day I - I was meant to be captured like the rest! They send me there to die! To be erased, replaced by YOU! Sad. So sad. To see...everything I know...being a lie..ha..ha. Everything he told me, everything I used to believe in was just a lie. Body shifts back to the human form, I get up, grinding the teeth, feeling burn in the chest. Anger, hatred, drowning in the urge to kill.

"Why. Would. YOU do that….?!"

Octavio seems to enjoy seeing me being torn a-a-apart! But he talks….oh, the way he talks!

"Because you're expandable! Progress demands sacrifice, breaking things and lifes! [his tone gets serious, judging] This is what progress looks like. Be in control long enough and you'll see...after a while you'll start measuring it by the size of a pile of destruction around ya. You're gonna break it up to build it back up. It's the only way, you'll see. And there is so much to break before you can build again."

"How many innocent lives did you s-sold into literal hell just get your dirty tentacles on some floating platform, huh? What makes you think the price is worth it, huh?!"

"I'll spare you the amount of times I've told myself similar bullshit. The reason justified"

"….E-everyone thinks they're the hero of their own story. Hah...I should've seen this coming - ever since my birth I was backstabbed by everyone I gave a rat's ass about: My boss. Machine. Hell..my goddamn foster father. Maybe I deserve it.."

And with that all emotions died out like a spark escaping fire as his last words echoed in my mind. I'm drained, I'm done. I don't want to breathe, I don't want to stand, I don't want to look or smell because I feel nothing. Everything looks so... irrelevant, aimless. Why go back? Why explain the tears? Why keep living? No one will care about my death if I don't prove to them that I lived. Now that, does make sense

Last words leave the sore dry throat with a hollow half tone as he gets up.

"I've been dead for 25 years. Today is the day I live"

And he rushed towards Octavio, who's been watching this poor soul going insane. He slightly jumped back from surprise, but moments later smiled as he was protected by the glass, upon which octoling's hands smashed with fury hands and started to slide down. Driven to madness, betrayed and broken there one final desire moved his fading body, smashing the glass with his forehead, then again and again, leaving blood and tears traveling down his devastated, emotionally mutilated red face. He cried in desperation, he screamed in agonizing pain burning from the inside; he felt weaker with each passing moment...

And yet he kept on going, throwing himself against the unbreakable wall of glass…until he could not. With one last head bush he froze in place like a statue. He was exhausted, drained dry. Emotions, reasons, a will to life...all burned out like a fuel fumes that kept the machine going on its last adventure. There was nothing left on his bloodied face...nothing but lifeless expression of a sanitised octoling engraved on his face with cold hollow eyes cursed to silently stare at his foster father. For the second time in his long life the old tyrant was speechless, memorizing the moment that will haunt him for the short remaining of his life.

Mark the end of Act 3.

*?*

Light shined through windows, another restless night for DeadF1sh and mountains of work to do. Organizing domesticated crime is no joke, yet it was an aimless routine for her. Phone rang with loud noises and she answered the call on autopilot. But no one spoke and the noise persisted. She snapped from her half slumbering mode, noticing the source of the disturbance - wired red hotline phone straight from the cold war design era; but with no means to dial the number nor it was connected or powered up. She picked up the phone handle, but hesitated to answer the call. Moments later she lifted the handle to her face and in an instance her office room ceased to exist before her very eyes. She was sitting at the negotiating table in the middle of nothing, still holding the handle of that herodic object, which innocently sat at the table. This...device usually serves as the communication bridge between the dead and the living, but this time there were no clients sitting on the other side like she did. Instead the inhuman crime lord witnessed a glimpse; the translucent shadow of a human figure with its back turned to her. They were sitting at the completely different table and writing on a typewriter like possessed, voicing the words colder than her skin...as the dead came to have little friendly chat.

'I've written and rewritten. Deconstructed. Reconstructed. Experimented with different voices. Changed the worlds. Changed myself. Forgotten the language, relearned the language. The only way to make progress - recap and write more. Cut through the reality. Tear it apart and rewrite. Lose the fat. Make him clear, ugly, functional, present. Morth flaws into tools. Be blunt, show him the way, let him do the job…..'

She didn't listen to the end of such cryptic monolog and hung up the phone, forcefully spewing herself back into the real world. For a couple of moments only air exited her mouth trying to speak. She whispered her curses and shook her head while the phone slid out of her shaking hand and hit the ground; after which she leaned her back against the chair and used her tentacle to fetch a normal phone. She had to spread the word around

Collapsing dusty halls of Camabo underground lighted up like a christmas tree, a spark of life reaching old mechanisms and conveyors with louder creaks breaking the stagnating flow. Dark corridors soaked through with blood, madness and misery fall silent. Never before machine was excited like now, making all necessary preparations to have the last laugh.

Usually only sounds of party and ignorance were heard outside the Board's doors. But it wasn't the time for sillines and corruption - an emergency meeting was underway and it was hell hot in there. Insults, threads and questions flew like splat bombs across the battlefield; piles of used cigarettes kept growing like cancer, smoke and confusion covered the room like a dome, isolating the old dumb fools from any ratinality and each other. Without Octavio power struggle was inevitable, 'Asgard' was under threat of cancellation and the message they got divided them even more. Some view this whole situation as conspiracy, an attempt to seize power. Suffice to say it was a miracle that they didn't shot each other down there

Author's PS:

So many questions and so little answers. Well, a good story should have an unsolved mystery or two. Is this the end of the story? Certain people know the answer, probably giggling in anticipation. But there'll be time for that as for now I leave you till I finish….the Kingdom of Leftovers. Stay tuned