Reviews, Follows, Favorites, etc. are always nice to have. Just to make sure I'm not typing to myself, although that wouldn't stop me from writing this specific project anyways.
3 - The Genuine Beginning
Maybe we should talk about what happened when I arrived at the kettle, I didn't just dive in. Here was a taste of my mindset.
I'm already in front of my destination. What could of been ten minutes felt like ten seconds, time didn't exist. Who cares at this point? I'm in front of the kettle, "there's no stopping me now. I'll do it for my friends, I'll do it for Dexter!" Yeah, sure. You'll do it for him. I don't doubt it. I'm trying to collect my own thoughts, about being a nobody in a society that might as well be the biggest one in existence at this time. Nothing can really stop me there, not yet anyways. Just that leap to the next stage in the adventure that has already started, however, it didn't feel like it. I might have been cheated, or maybe I was cheating them, but the Octarians didn't pose a real threat. In fact, none of them did. They didn't even move half the time. They just sat there, doing nothing. Any random playing Turf Wars competitively could take them on easily. Very easily, the old Agents over-estimated my work. And then, I just killed them like that. "Splat!" Is the sound you would hear, but they would hear nothing. Just disappear into, nothing. Just a purple blob on the floor, a blob of purple ink, now meaningless, waiting to be used by the rest of the Octarians. Just a puddle, that's all. And for me, that meant the next one was ready for the "proper" treatment.
It gets scary, thinking of the damage you have already caused. Maybe I didn't know what I was killing.
However, they were probably just a part of some cult-like environment, being brainwashed to not even talking to each-other. They aren't like us. Even the Octolings never truly fought with respect, rather, just stepped right into the action; like they were told. I'm going to assume that is their orders, but it really sucks. Being a "nobody" helps in this situation though. Nobody would notice that I was gone from Inkopolis in the first place, other than essentially my assistants, just hearing everything that was going on a little walkie-talkie, two-way-radio, however you want to call it.
Oh shit, my radio. I should bring that.
Do they even talk to each-other? Are they friendly to each-other? Do they even care, have emotion, anything? Or are they a brain-dead group of just dummies, ranging from how many and how lethal? Is that all what matters to the higher ups? And what happened to DJ Octavio? How did he even die in the first place, and why did this cause some weird kind of movement with the Octarians?
Well, in all honesty, that thought is pretty damn stupid. They needed electricity to run their new facility, and with Octavio gone, also to make due with the higher-ups requests, it's only logical they would fight so hard to keep it. Octavio was nice, actually. He was the one who wanted to make peace with the Inklings in any-way, shape or form. For a while, he got that. We never really let the societies merge, but from what I've read, apparently they just used to be friends. No hard feelings. I wish I could feel that way, but I've been practically told to think "Octarians are BAD GUYS! We, are GOOD GUYS!" and that thought gets multiplied by a hundred. I wonder why I had to be even taught that, peace would be nice you know. And, why are they only purple? Nobody has explained that to me yet. In fact, it seems like I might be brainwashed myself. The only person who actually challenged these views is Dexter. Huge props to him, and his taste for actually thinking outside of what he's told. I hope I can carry that trait on for the rest of my life, it sparks interesting conversations you wouldn't have had otherwise if you just thought "BAD. GOOD. HERE. REFERENCE. DONE.", and if you did you might as well fall into what they want. Not only that, but it would be nice to carry on what Agent 2 has done for me. He's been super influential in my life, I feel as if I take a lot from him as a person, as a character. One of those things is thinking out the box, giving chances where they're might be none for many, and that should include Octolings. They went through the trouble of writing that note in Inkling, might as well give them a chance. Jesus, I feel like going against whoever runs the city now. Wait, who runs the city? Jud? Callie and whoever is on the other side? Sheldon? Probably Jud.
Ah, jeez, I'm wasting time.
I got my radio ready and tuned to the channel we used to use, just in case Callie actually wants to follow me on this trip. It's not like she was 25% of the friend group or anything. Afterwards, I again got into the right position to jump down into the Kettle. When was the last time I went in there? It would have to be a few weeks at the most, the least just a week. I took a break from anything related to it. Thank god, it worked like a charm. If it wasn't for that break, I would of lost my mind doing this shit over and over, and I would of never grown-up in the slightest. I would of also fallen for their trap, obviously. They had not even a day to think of shit, now they've had a week. That makes me more hopeful, though. They're adapting for an old mindset, so no matter how crazy the plan, it won't work.
More time wasted.
I got ready, kicked the kettle as I was standing on top of it. Looked at it dead, right from where I was a few minutes ago. The metal grid staring back at me, as the abyss below was the only thing that really scared me. Everything else was a bridge between the two worlds. My mentality better be different from a week ago, or else I'm not ready to go down that hole. Not in the slightest. However, I think I'm ready. Ready for whatever is in there. That dark, pitch black area covered by metal to make sure I don't fall down. Yeah, I'm falling down all right. It's happening.
I took a long look down. We meet again. I start again.
My progress may have been saved, but my mentality has been thrown for a new one. My goal is clear, even if my mind isn't. Take yourself down this hole, not just yourself physically. You're not like the last where they had bones, you aren't like them. They hated each-other, their society was always in ruins with things we can't even properly translate other than death. I can't imagine their society after what I've been told. That's out of the picture, thought. I am me, here now, I'm not one of them. Am I ready?
Yes.
I went into Squid form and jumped straight down into what might have been one of the scariest feelings ever. I'm back on my bullshit, right? Well, yeah. With a different motive, even if the goal is the same. Get that Great Zapfish, save Sam, then get the fuck out. That's all I need to do. Nothing more, noth-
My thoughts were interrupted by hitting the floor, into a foggy abyss. Not like what I was used to. Not that weird, "city landscape" that ended up being scattered bulidings and a dome of televisions displaying skylines. No purple ink line for me to follow, littered with Octarians or at the worst a few Octolings. This was very, very different. A brown-white smoke covered the bottom of my feet to the top of my knee-cap, from there a gradient to black from my kneecap to waist. The smoke lingering on, forever. This wasn't a typical place. This wasn't what I was used to, not in the slightest. Dark, gloomy, had this fucked-atmosphere around everything. I didn't understand what it was at all. Some random place used for whatever, maybe? Storage? Why did I land here in the first place? It didn't make sense, until I saw a light bulb at what appeared to be the top of the area, which wasn't too high up, actually. Which made me think that they were expecting me. They had planned the ceiling to have a hole corresponding with the kettle position, smart, I'll give them that. So, I waited. I didn't go out like the idiot. I waited for them to prep. However, I heard a light banter a few minutes later. It wasn't coming from many voices, but I would say I heard about seven voices? Most of them female, which would make sense considering who I was against in terms of the entirety of the Octarians. 'They speak the same language?' I thought in my head, with this weird feeling in me. It had to be Octolings, of course. I could understand what they were saying. 'There has to be a long story as to why they aren't speaking Octarian to each-other', was the first thing that my mind went to. They had their own language, why were they using one that the enemy uses? It makes no sense, really. I digress. Inside of two conversations happening, one was bigger than the other, so I put my attention on the latter. There was a split in the middle, like a middle-man but taken to the extreme. For some weird reason, that was the one thing that my mind went straight to as off, until I decided to listen.
#3 - "Yeah, that place was really fucked up, wasn't it?"
#4 - "Creepy, if I remember it correctly. I don't even know what we were doing there, everything is really fuzzy. If anyone can take us there, I'm going with them! I'm gonna help them!"
A miniature silence fell through, what felt like at least, the fog.
#7 - "Practically all of our memories are really fuzzy, don't you think?"
#1 - "You can say that, for sure. It won't change how we see things though."
#3 - "That was really fun though.."
#4 - "I'm just waiting for the day.."
#1 - "That's not coming. We have to deal with everything, everything before we can get that wish."
#3 - "I'm with I, or 4, over here, I hate these numbers. But hey, I'm waiting too, and if anyone can help me get back there, you know I'm helping them."
#2 - "I'd hate to see green.. I'd hate to see green.."
There was a mini-silence in the conversation. Nobody said anything. Any sliver of movement stuck out as a sore thumb as the rest had to make sure to play a quick game of freeze tag, except everyone's it. Visors being put on some of their faces, some just being turned on with their little buzzing and beeping sound effects. Others adjusting grips on their loaded arms, some not moving, most likely looking straight at the foggy ground. I heard Number 1 from the center of everything, like they were essentially what the sound was rotating around. The split between the conversation, even though it over-lapped when I peaked in, however the thought is what counts. I stood in amazement, some odd fractured past, they haven't even gone up to the surface and they're claiming they've lived any form of life? They don't even remember it properly, why would those kinds of memories matter, it's not-
#1 - "Fear kills you. Stay sharp, all of you. Back straight, weapons loaded, visors in and eyes locked forward. No mishaps. Any hiccups, the ten of us are gone. Remember our status? '(TG + ORDER) * 4 + TS = HZ.' You forget that, you're forgetting your life. Never forget venue 02/2. We move on from these things; This, is a prime example of moving on. If I seem friendly with the Agent, let it be. I know what I'm doing, I just hope he isn't an asshole.."
Not an asshole, I should take that as a chance to live and get fuck out of here. If I have any way of actually doing what I'm meant to do without dying, it might as well be the fact that the bossy one actually wants me to be a nice person. Besides that though, the whole green thing? What the fuck is so wrong with green? Is there a problem with the way it looks? I got really damn confused. In fact, that voice randomly went into that conversation, I heard her talking with the smaller group before she mentioned "green..", what's so wrong with green? I thought she was mental. Every right to think so, if you're reading "I'd hate to see green.." twice. I mean, it sounded like a she. Eh, what do I know? I know she's probably a she, and is probably very, very crazy. To this day, I have no idea if I'm right or not about the crazy part. And still, I don't know the side conversation that was going on. On the topic of this weird conversation, I would also like to add that I've cracked the TG + ORDER code, and use it often now. 116HZ. Nice number. They talk their normal shop, still in weird codes I don't have the time for but banter even happens on those channels. Damn. I like 162.225MHz though, you'll see why.
There is obviously something suspicious going on with the back-story here. It doesn't seem like Octolings would be able to live such a life, even if the city gave them that chance. Life without discrimination, they aren't the damn enemy all the time, unless you ask anybody who lives there. It's obvious that they are hurt, some more than others but they can't even remember shit they used to do, and it's rare they could even do anything of the sort. Depressing really, I remember hanging out with my squad quite the bit. Me and Beck were pretty close back when I was still getting taught. After the lessons, we would hang out in the grassy areas right outside of the train-station and the humble village there. And there was a white, square house, just in the area as well. Shit was great, we would always fuck with each-other, play with our hair and maybe play a game of Turf War in our final months. At night, probably play some video games in the house, there were some old consoles we always knew how to set up and running. Even though they have wires, pfhht, seriously? I even took Agent 2 once, shit was amazing. It was at night too, we went out just to get a good look at it. The sky didn't have stars that night, just the dark gradient as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I zoned out for hours there. It was the same day as the first leg of my journey, so I got a little emotional. There was a time when my normal life and this Agent thing lived in peace, you know, but with me not taking advantage of the fact or at least appreciating it, that doesn't exist anymore. Now, I just drown my sorrows with the fact that people's fun is gone and so is mine, but when their fun comes back because of me, I'm still in the corner of anything social. I don't really have a life to return to, now do I? It makes absolutely ZERO sense for any of those fuzzy memories to be in any Octolings head, they are a publicly hated figure in the city. They have no emotion, or thought process, they just do as what they are told to do, by their new leader of sorts. That's the mentality we're all told, right? However, even with that said, times change. So do people. And that sucks because, as much as certain people want to move on and others want to stay in the same place, it all comes to an end. When something is on-going, you expect an end at some point, right? I doubt the humans did back then, but I sure am now. So these Octolings, who have already shown me that my mind has been skewed to think they're all terrible creatures without emotions, want to go back to something they barely know that happened. But that's in the past, obviously. Shit's old, gone, and that life they desperately want go back to, it's probably not there anymore. That time window has closed, and another one opens. But they'll never get their wish, will they? Small chance, so that's a no. Props to their leader, whoever that might be, they are damn clever. Making sure shit doesn't go out, and making sure they have some form of hope. It's always hope, isn't it? Maybe it's just a trick to make sure they do shit, not really sure. But either way, I feel bad about it. I know I lived that kind of section in my life, and I remember it sharper than a glass shard. It's the closest thing to a childhood for me, which is pretty funny, since it's after the fact about my parents. And that's all they have to hang onto for getting out of a military, isn't it? These Octolings are going through a fuck-ton.
I gave up with my game of just sitting in the dark and gave in. They must have been waiting there for hours, days, must have been switching out people at some point. But, during the day, you would assume the whole gang would be there. Well, let's see what happens.
#1 - "Footsteps, shut it all!". In a whisper too.
There goes my chance of doing anything important. Or anything big. Now I would have to go through a big ol' monologue. I walked to the light, until they could fully see me. Randomly, the fog became less important, as random flashes of light turn on on the low ceiling, blinding me for a moment. Turns out, they had lights showing everybody. It was a lot more than seven, but not in the way you may expect. Nine Octolings lined up, and a gap between them. That gap was for another Octoling, who was closer to the first light than the rest. She started walking towards my direction.
It was Number 1, who seemed to be the most in charge, she spoke directly at me. She had this semi-bossy walk, in fact, I'll call her B for Bossy just for that. This was B's idea of an introduction: "You got our little note, didn't you?"
Surprised by the introduction, I spoke out. I knew this was going to turn into a 'I say something and then you say something!' conversation. "No hello? No 'this is my name' or anything like that? Heh, you'd be surprised, I like people who skip the bullshit."
I had a little smirk on my face when I said that, it was kind of like talking to an old friend of mine. B looked at me with a sort of appreciation, she did have a visor on so I went by the head-tilt, but that tilt is all I needed. Again; I do like people who skip the bullshit. Look at Agent 2 as a collective, they skipped the bullshit. Although, it's not that important. B went on. "These nine behind me, they're very, very special and reasonable people. In fact, I associate as one of them. Everyone else, well, is 'normal'. The 'normal' ones are Octarians, usual Octolings, etc, but us ten are very, very special. We work as a team, given odd hints of our past as whoever we were and given the determination to get the fuck out of here and go to that life waiting for us! We need power to do that, and we also need you to get out of the way. So please, for the love of god, leave us alone, abandon your mission, and learn nothing about us." She spoke with a sort of sarcasm at that last part that I remember faintly, but not really. I wish I could pin-point it on a person, but not really. I swear to god it was from somewhere.. fuck!
There was a mini-pause, as my brain had a "click!" moment. But I really wish it didn't, as I was right in my head. They want to go back to that life that they keep on seeing flashes of, the closest they are to living it is through technology, and technology only. No way that life is still out there. Absolutely none. It really hurts me to say that as well, as I really wish there was a way to guarantee that they could go back to that life. But there isn't, and once they find that out, they're going to live with it for the rest of their lives, aren't they? That they never got to live those memories. Or maybe they know, and are just really sad about it. I know I'm sad about times I remember living like it was yesterday, I can't imagine the pain it would bring them that they can't go back to that life. I was lost, lost in the sorrow they must endure one day. Jesus..
"Oh, please, don't tell me you fell for their shit." She said in her now stongly bossy way, while I zoned out, looking down, lost again. That happens too much. "We've going through a reinvention of sorts. You see, something happened, and we're a result of that something. These nine behind me, they didn't know as much as I did when I woke up. Therefore, I'm now their leader. Remember, only the leader of these nine and myself, not the leader of anybody or anything else. That's Stella's job. It only makes sense, after all. I know their past more than them. At least, I think. How, what we came out of and how we did, is completely unknown. Even to me. Don't ask me about shit regarding anything after my conscious wake-up.. I could barely think of anything. It felt like landing in another world, complete with an array of odd, distant lights and things that I didn't understand. It probably felt much worse for the ones behind me.."
Another world.. huh? This makes no sense, but the way she talked about it, holy shit was that real. Tilting her head down, pausing before saying "I could barely think of anything", well it's something I would do if I was talking to someone. Because it feels like shit to say something like that. Zone out, think about the situation and then describe it. Or in this case, zone out, describe the situation and then experience it over again. A way to tap into an older version, an older part of history, an-
#2 - "I fell down to the floor when I woke up for the first time. Right on the floor, and started shaking, immediately. People, looking at me, with a huge smile, looking like they had just won the lottery. And I was just shivering, in front of them. I didn't know who I was, what I was doing. All that was in my head, which I would discover later, was a person. He, she, whoever, had a green colour on them. That image is the only thing I know... I hate the people that watched me. I hate that moment of my life, but one thing gives me hope-"
#1 (B) - "Hope!" She flung her right hand into the air like the energy was built up in her from the start. "We will stay strong, stay on top of everything that we do, we will come out better! Always, everyday, we come out better. That's the one thing that matters. Coming out better, it's the one thing that matters."
#2 - "uh. oh.. ok"
#4 - "Octavio's management might of been what created us, but Stella is the one that truly keeps us in check! Praise Stella!"
A few started clapping, but that respect died within seconds.
B - "I work for her, you know."
#4 - "It would be really neat if you told me-"
B - "Enough! You get the point, we came from something. At least respect that, before doing anything related to power with that fancy Zapfish you want so bad."
I laughed. Just a chuckle at first, then later fully blown out laughter. I saw Number 2 hide her face, Number 4 look at me weird. Three was just standing there, at their idling position, and Seven had this disbelief in their eyes. The rest stayed static as I laughed, laughed, laughed. I realized how fucking stupid I am, I'm not here for the Zapfish, I'm here for myself, I'm here for Sam, I'm here for Agent 2! Oh, how wrong they were. The fucking.. holy, wha., you..
"..you really think I'm after that Zapfish like it's my life? I'm here because you have Sam, the last remaining person in my friend group. The Zapfish is a bonus to add onto the table. That shouldn't be your main concern with me, however you all seem to be-" FUCK
You idiot! Making friends with the enemy? Jesus, what are you doi-
#2 - "Be like what?"
"Nothing, it's nothing. Just, at the time, it seemed like I was killing like, robots. Some weird, fake shit, you know? It didn't feel natural, yet I still feel like shit about it." I had put my hand on my head at the time. Trying to think about those moments. Just, ugh. Really?
B - "Funny you mention 'fake shit', Octarians are just robots at best, fucked AI at worst." She walks over to one of them, the other living nine still in static array the moment I turn my head near their radius. B keeps on walking, with her left arm in a fist while walking past the array of robots. She likes hitting the bottom metal base of the Octarians with her fist, a nice knock knock sound comes out when she does. Makes me feel better hearing the hollowness, not much going on in there, dummies at best. "Oh, and there are robot Octolings as well. You probably went through a lot of them. I hope they weren't hard for you."
"No, they weren't that hard in full retrospect."
We walked down the array of what I knew now as machines, a few busted with smoke coming out of areas that seem like where work would be done, some I busted a week ago on my last mission, other things like that. B told me that some even had older firmware from when Octavio was still in control over everything, so radio calls are pretty outdated. So that's why I heard "what's the DJ gonna say about this"... ohhhh. We kept on walking on what seemed like an endless array. Just, countless robots designed to take over a society that is already built. Those ten, they might want to fix it for themselves, for the mystery. Are they the only ones that are still living creatures? Who is Stella, is she one of these robots as well? B implied that Stella was the one running everything in this facility, which doesn't surprise me given the 'Praise Stella!' moment. Speaking about B she has quite the collected personality for someone with amnesia. Or at least, some form of it. Which makes me happy, as I know at least B isn't a robot, and neither is Number 2 with that "green.." moment. It's insane, they all must have fully developed personalities, don't they? Lost in thought, we keep on walking, thinking in rambles to myself until we reach the end. The fog faded out, and the line of all the bots just ended. I look behind me, the nine are behind me talking one second and walking with their backs straight up, fixing their visors the other second. I wonder how I didn't notice, my mind must of shut them up. Sad though, I wish I knew what they were talking about, looking back. I must of been thinking about how fascinating this is, this is going in no way like I expected it to. Like, I'm not dead! Whooo! And I didn't even have to sneak, although I totally could of. Guess some weird thing in me said "they tried this hard, let them have you, or just see you.". And I agree with that. Still in thought, B randomly stops walking. She's a bit taller than me, isn't she? I'm about 5'6, she looks 5'9. Huh. The rest are also different heights, but in the same uniform, they aren't artificially created. I wonder how they just "randomly" woke up then. Who knows? Not me, and obviously not them. Maybe "Stella"? Their "leader"? I'm going too far ahead, in fact I can't even tell if they look different, all I notice is height. Their hair is the same, their visors are the same, and I can't tell tiny details with the amount of light that blinds my eyes. Thankfully, B looks down at me right in the eyes, protecting me from going blind once and for all. Although, I didn't think that was the case, as I thought I was going to die that moment. I also noticed that the other nine stopped with her at the same time.
B - "You've been in a memory of mine. I've seen you before. Very vividly, actually. The blue hair, the weird look on your face, the age, you've changed quite the bit, haven't you?"
No sarcastic tone, no obvious mention of anything Octavian, I'm dying tonight.
This is it. What everything I've done leads to, doesn't it. Disrespecting my sister, loosing the friends I thought were the best before truly meeting my best friend only to loose him too. I can't get him back, I was never able to. No matter what he left for us, it wasn't going to be seen, nobody would ever know he did anything. That's terrible, isn't it? Because I went down here for Sam, the last friend I had on my line. My parents, the people I knew, the day I ran, the life I lived away, the way I survived, all to take on this Agent thing, huh? I must of been shaking a bit while thinking about that, as I was looking at the floor by the time I had actually looked through my eyes and not through my head. I was looking the exact opposite direction, and had a little hunch looking down.
I'm not dead. So I might as well take this chance and make the most out of it.
I straighten my back, breathe in, and turn around. "I have changed quite the bit, yeah. These past two weeks, I've changed a lot as a person. And in looks, a little bit. So, how do you remember me?"
B - "Now isn't the time for that, Alex. I need you to get in a place where you can stay for tonight, it's 0:41 in the morning!" She took off her visor, revealing her big, purple eyes practically tainted with playful character. Jesus.. B for Bossy doesn't fit, but even from that small time-frame, I got used to it mentally. We did walk down quite the line. "We can't have an asset like you killed immediately now.."
I left the hotel in the morning, what kind of time do they run on? Also, 24 hour time? Really? I'm not even going to commend on the "kill" shit, fuckin', whatever at this point.
Until B started laughing. Guess that kill thing was a joke.
#3 - "Heh, I wouldn't mind some sleep, if your asking me. Been tired recently, especially with the number shit."
B - "Things should be explained in due time, Alex, but in return, you have to explain to us things, okay? And since your incentive isn't the Great Zapfish, we can just give you Sam and get you both out of here, right?"
nn.n aME? KNOW'S ME NAME! i'm done trying. "I really think I should get some sleep before I say anything important, or of any substance. And that, my friend, you can quote." I felt good around B now. She didn't kill me, that's the main reason. But also, it was really cool seeing her change from someone who knew how to be a boss to something entirely different, even if I only saw the other side for a few minutes at most. I trust B more than the rest, more than the city upstairs, and a tad bit more than what my sister has become. After that laugh, B is a genuine character to me, that wins me over. So, that says something.
I hear from the back, #3 - "Amen!"
What was she pulling, Number 3? I was pretty suspicious she was going to do something to me, or at least, with me. She was the loudest of the pack and seemed very energized. Maybe she was killing her energy, or took something to keep her awake the moment I dropped down and just can't get it out, who knows.
B - "Well, someone has to help me put these back in usual positions, and fix the scenery. 7, you're new round here, why not help me?"
7 - "Aha! If you insist, Number 1!"
Okay..? I gave her a weird look, unconsciously. Definitely a different vocabulary compared to B. She probably looked back at me weirdly under those visors. I feel like an asshole looking back at that.
B - "I'm going to help 7, so 3, why don't you show our guest his room? Everyone else, snooze your asses off. I'll have the bots doing rounds for the next two days."
Either B knew what was going on, or she was just an idiot naturally. Either way, it was just me and 3 for this section. I don't mind this, she seems pretty fun to be around. I also mind this, she seemed the most energized and as much as I would like to make a friend, I'm this close to saying no to such an offer. So..
We walk out of the only double door throughout the entire field of fog that I had spent the past half-hour (at least, two hours at most) in. I wanted to learn a bit more about 3, but I knew a few things. A: She was just the tad bit taller than me, she's 5'7, I'm 5'6. I have good eye-sight, after all. I wasn't going to ask anything crazy, like her name, as that would just be child's play in a area like this. We walked to what they called the "bridge", an area where there isn't much happening but simulations and doors to rooms. It's split in half between, from what I could gather, different Octolings and how they live together. No crazy paint job, just black and what might be white. I really don't know, nothing was lit on my way. And it wasn't like anybody was there either, although there might be commotion from everyone going to their rooms. And, although I have some form of night-vision, like everyone, I was mainly following Three's footsteps. While on the way, I tried to make a conversation with Three, but she never said anything. Just looked forward, kept on walking. Which threw me off, but, okay. I wasn't one to judge on an action like that, it wasn't even far away. Still was a little weird though, from seeming very energized to just very, quiet.
I realize why Three was quiet by the time we entered the room, the room wasn't for one person. The room was pretty tiny, actually, having a lot more space horizontally than vertically. Imagine a top-down view. There's a under-saturated red covering the entirety of the floor, and a slim table with two cabinets on the right. Then, a middle space of nothing to place the ladder on. The ladder is for the bunk-bed, which is the main reason as to why Three was quiet, I thought. The top and bottom beds are the same, and the frame is made with waxed wood pieces from top to bottom, even the ladder itself. For more context, there is an air conditioner at the top right, and at the ceiling, there are four tiny lights that make up for lighting. The rest I'll leave up to interpretation. Either way, by the time we reached the room, Three had let out a decent yawn, which surprised me. I had fallen onto the bottom of the bed, but Three didn't move around the room too much. She started saying things, but not the usual. "I'm going to trust that you're not too tired, only by a tad bit, but either way get some sleep so you have a full tank by four hours from now. I'm going to take you somewhere, after a mini-nap. Does 4:15 work for you to just, open this door ready to leave?". Uhhhh, okay? I respond with a little uncertainty in my voice.. "Yes.. but-"
Then I get cut off.
"That 'yes' is all I needed to hear. Get a nice nap in, heh, I know I am. And, I'll set an alarm for you, 15 minutes beforehand. Get ready to go somewhere, as long as you promise to get me the fuck out of here at the end of everything."
This was a pretty dramatic moment for Three, I could tell. Even the way she said that, "the end of everything". She was leaning against the door by the end of the statement, and looking up at the ceiling as if it was a sky filled with wondrous stars, while the room wasn't lit at all. No light was hitting her from my view, the only light hitting her was to her right, due to the fact that the bridge was still in commotion. The tilt of her feet and legs said enough, though. From the tilt, she seemed sad, but also semi-hopeful. Just staring, most likely lost in her mind, which I can relate. The way she looked up, not even 45 degrees, but just enough to get a glance at the images in her head. The breaths, semi-unconscious, letting the background noise become null and void as you sink deeper and deeper into your own mind. The legs, placed in a position where nothing can be felt, the back, leaning on a piece of wood not uncomfortable enough to not focus, but not comfortable enough to pass out. She's stuck in there, isn't she? Any movement feels like you're moving in blankets, except those blankets are your own skin, your own body. I know she's in that feeling, I don't need to see her face to see how so. I think I got a complex character on my hands, with a decent amount of attitude. I can live with that, definitely. A new kind of character in my life is something I'm okay with, and I'm willing to accept it. At this rate, I just need a new person in my life, after everything. That can't be too much to ask, can it?
Sometimes it can be.
I got ready to take a small nap, Three was still at the door, thinking about life. At some point, I heard her take her visor off, but that was probably temporarily. I was already half-passed out at that point, I couldn't be bothered to keep on listening or even to keep my eyes open for much longer, you're asking for too much at that point. I heard Three put the ladder down, as the bed vibrated when she placed it down and climbed up it. Then, she probably set a timer for herself or something, I couldn't make out the noises at this point, I was practically three/fourths dead then. It was the ending to a day, or night? I couldn't tell, time must of worked different down here. But whatever it was, I didn't even do anything to get this tired. I just landed on a bed, I didn't bring up the sheets, or even take of some of my gear, nothing. Something about those moments were just, off. I wasn't expecting such kindness, and even though I was in a fragment of B's memories, wouldn't that make me more of a target? I don't know, that just confuses me even more. Maybe it's because I represent to her a place in life she wants to go back to, which I already know she can't. People change, things happen. It is how it is. And I still feel bad about it. I'm sorry for them, really. So, in that regard, maybe I'm a sign they can finally go back, while they couldn't be more wrong if that's the case.
And that's the last thing I remember thinking about before I passed out. That's that.
I woke up to a loud, buzzing alarm at 4:00 military time, or four in the morning. I must of completely passed out.
The light was on, pretty bright too, but the bed that was above me blocked out most of it from hitting me. I had chills on my skin, the AC was blasting straight onto me, and I was too tired to even deal with those things, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eye-sight adjusting to real life, hands feeling from barely usable things to, well, hands. Life fading from an imaginary places to real life, the senses getting thrown away and re-adjusted in mere seconds. That was much more than a nap.. but no matter. I got up, as the sound of sheets moving against each-other refreshed my ears as to how sound works after a semi-vivid dream I can only remember the feeling of. Either way, I got up from my bed, had a nice stretch, and went straight to drink one of the emergency back-up drinks I had. I needed something to wake me up after all. After that, I grabbed things that were scattered on the floor from when I passed out, and surprisingly my phone was there, no damage though. Time to check the time. 4:10? I must of spent a long ass time getting up. I knew that I only had five minutes left, but there's no harm in arriving early. So I opened the door, went outside and waited. Waited to see someone that I barely knew, but somehow they knew something about me. Like a lost hub of memories, a lost archive. There are somethings in those hubs, mentions in that archive that you must remember, but they're faint details of the bigger picture. Like a pulse, you can feel it. But unlike a pulse, you don't know where it's coming from. The source, that is. I must be a reminder of someone's origin, in a sense. They've probably been re-birthed through these memories, haven't they? Realized something through them, seen who they really are in a feeling, but that's it.
I really shouldn't be putting myself in their shoes, that's selfish. I'm not sure if I really care for my position, but I understand why I'm in it, and that's enough. They have it much worse than me, that's for sure. Guess that "snooze your asses off" order is why the two of us are even able to do such a thing today, right here, right now.
4:15. I heard footsteps coming towards my way, while the other background noise barely existed, nobody was awake. Just those footsteps, from my left ear towards the center, the buzzing of the visor clicking off, I was scared for my life when I heard the sound of her gun bouncing off of her back. But, she must feel the same way. So, she gets to the center of my vision with her visor turned off, but not off of her head. She then just stops walking, looks straight at me, like the distance between us is huge, but also minimal. She walks to me, slowly but emotionally, almost like she was crippled, but as if that kind of walk could be turned on or off at any moment. You can imagine the sound of equipment rattling every-time the limp kicked in, just to go quiet when she stopped. She kept on walking in this weird toggle, until she randomly stopped a rough five feet away from me.
Then she took off her visor, and I got to read her eyes.
The eyes of millisecond suspense, pulling from the skies above at the break of midnight to the bleak gradient of the sky in the early morning. The look of fear, but also seeing fear look back at you. Right near the black center of the eye, staring at you, looking for the truth and only the truth, not looking at you in the process. Through the skull, through the imagination, her eyes were a laser and I ended up being the damn glass. A life built on mental rumors, fragments that could easily be then imagination yelling back at you, telling you what is and what isn't. What to look forward to and what to forget, what's real and what isn't. The pure sadness, locked in a body you don't know, from an existence you don't remember. The people. The places. The feelings, the purest of glass shards that their memory was in; I saw it in those eyes. I saw how it affected their lives, their well being. It affected their well being like three sniper shots through one tank of ink, just sucking it all up until its gone, and now you need to refuel. But you can't refuel mentally, not that easy. It isn't going into a puddle, it isn't taking a break, it's being with yourself. But how can you do that when yourself doesn't even exist, a point in time where the past doesn't affect the present? When life doesn't catch up to you, when forgetting means you're forgetting a section in life that you weren't meant to forget. When forgetting means you're forced to forget where you're meant to live. Live! That's a good way to put it. A part of all of their lives was taken, an era to look back at. A sub-section of a life, well, they're only so many of those you can experience before you think all of those sub-sections are useless, meaningless until put into use. What use would they be put into? Who knows at this point, the rambles my mind goes on. She was still looking at me, her raw face. I saw a fire burn in the center of everything, and the aura that is the rest of it is just the subsections of her memories. What makes Three, Three, are those snippets where she sees who she is "meant" to be. Those things are gone, lost, always kept in those broken puzzle pieces until they don't need to be there anymore. But at the core.. the very center of everything, the little spec in the center. That, is loneliness. Being alone drives everything here. I was wrong about the gas, the thing that fuels Three is being alone. Alone in understanding herself to the best degree, and she doesn't even know what she is. She doesn't know if she wants to be in this situation, in this position, the fragments left leave promise, but what else does? A similar experience? What about waking up there? Treated like dummies, the first time you associate yourself with your bodies. Do you even feel like they're yours? Do you even care? Care for it's well being, or only for yours mentally? Is going back to something that doesn't exist what you want? What you crave, is that all you know? Is that REALLY all that Three knows? To use all of this not as an fully realized opportunity, but a gadget to get there? A gadget, not potential. Can I even blame her for thinking that, do I even know if that's the case? Does it even matter, I'm not her! But, fucking, HIM! Agent 2! His, characters, THEY KNEW! And yet, those opportunities they had, they took with every breath, and then never took any risk, did they? Maybe Three is making the right decision to use this to her advantage, do something different, go with her gut on this one. Her first motive is the motive that needs all she has and then some, what that takes, Jesus. The risks are there, but it's the only chance, and I must be a part of that. She's still looking at me. I'm still looking at her. She's probably doing the same damn thing as I'm doing. She probably thinks the same way I do. As much as I don't feel less alone because of that, I now have more pity on someone that can be taken away from me once again, like always. And she's having an experience right now, as I just had. And that's that.
"Amber." Three says. "My name's Amber. I thought you would like to know, Alex."
"Nice to meet you Amber.", I respond with, respectfully. She still had that same face, but I moved around and broke the bed-bound spell for myself. I just waited there for a bit longer, the seconds felt like minutes, 15 seconds felt like hours. 30 seconds, don't even. Time went by the slowest click. I couldn't believe it.
Amber walked up to me like a normal person and gave me a tight hug. She started quietly crying, I could feel the head twitch, the tear go down my back and hit the core like a dagger. It crystallized, it felt like. A tear hitting my gear and everything feeling fine, except for the weight my heart had to carry now. A tear falling down on the floor, a little bit of noise, like a pin dropping, except it speaks louder than any physical wound could ever wish to yell. A tear from the unidentified, the unknown, the undecided. A tear from the ones yet to be discovered. I don't understand what got her emotional, as I could only guess, and my guesses are quite long. But even with that, that guess, it truly is just a ramble.
This tear, and every tear after it, is much more than a ramble. It's a mentality. This is a life so broken they will lean on anything that could possible remind them of the past.
And here I am, running away from such things.
Amber went on for a solid five minutes. Although it felt like the longest 300 seconds of my life, it also felt like one of the most important.
When she completely settled down, she got her head off of my shoulder, arms off of my back, at the pace of a hospital patient getting out of such bed after years. But she was still looking down at the ground, and she was looking down hard. She looked from a solid thirty degree angle down, and while looking, she slowly reached for her visor. Every little sound that gadget could make from the left of her hip to her hand she tried to make silent in the process of grabbing it, most likely to make sure that the quiet was appreciated and valued. Which, to me it was, anyways. She grabbed the device quietly, the index and middle fingers wrapped around the nose-rest. I got a good peak at what seemed a different type of visor compared to the now known robots I faced that "while" back. The color pallet seemed the same, but instead of two beaming circles and a thin plate, the visor was rather thick. Circles were replaced with tiny dots of bright purple lights, gleaming into the eyes like staring at sunlight. A strap, instead of something you equip from the top. Well, it still is equipped from the top, but instead of it being metal on the back, it's just a leather strap. The dots popped out a little bit, but not too much. Most likely due to whatever lenses they have inside of those dots, they need to see of course. And last, a few control options on the sides, like a toggle switch for turning it on or off, and on the left of the unit was some type of button. Or, buttons? Wasn't a perfect view, but I could get a decent understanding of the design with such a peak. Amber had flicked the switch to the right upwards, and a buzzing noise had commenced the moment she did so. She must of turned it on, said my internal Captain Obvious. In a faster style, she had put the visor above her head, taken her left hand and stretched out the band, while accommodating for her head tilt. Then, quickly put the visor down on her face, letting go with her two fingers, and then putting the strap right below the line where her tentacles end. She didn't let go, rather, softly put it on, to prevent any more noise from being made. Nothing unnecessary, now. She slowly picked her head up, up, up, until she was staring right at me yet again. However, this time, with a visor. I felt this was more like a filter, rather than just trying to hide who you are or just ground rules around the area. Most likely ground rules, they were all wearing the new visors when I dropped down, however I never took it into consideration until now. Then again, some were off, just resting on their head. Weird.
Amber had turned away from my direction and started looking in the other direction. Her head was just a tad bit higher than it was when she looked at me. Just, straight at what I knew as barely anything. Nothing is moving, lit up for me to see, it was just an array of black. It was like that when I entered the area as well. Maybe she found beauty in the array of black, maybe simply something was on her visor. Either way, she was enveloped for a good minute. Breathing slowly, maybe soaking in the environment. Sounds like something I would do, if that was the case. She looked back at me, and seemed a little bit more awake in the process turning back. She handed me a note with some numbers on it, and asked "Do you have a radio of sorts? I'm gonna need to take it in case you try to reach anyone." She then tilted the visor off of her left eye, and winked at me. I was also able to catch a little smirk on her left cheek, although her mouth was in plain sight. It was something I found a little peace in, just knowing that I give a little peace to someone. She was showing me a channel so I could talk to her somewhere else. Clever. The piece of paper said 162.225MHz, so I had dialed that up on my walkie-talkie as a secondary channel, and then handed it to her. She then flicked the switch on the right down, swiftly put her visor back into place, and said "Follow me, I have something to show you." and turned back around. After that, she turned off the visor, and put it to her left side once again. "I have a lot of trust in you.", I heard as she has her back turned to me. "And you don't need to show it back. Heh, being in charge of security usually means I sit around and do nothing, all fuckin' day. But now, I have something to do." I just nodded, up and down. Saying words would be rude in a situation like this, I need her to do all of the talking. If not, I could either get into some serious hot waters, not know what I needed to do, or rot by myself. Those are great options. Amber just seems like she needs something new in her life, and she's probably going to get me in a place I can stay without the rest finding me. Which is great for me, as talk about killing me definitely doesn't make me feel good. Maybe this will get me closer to Sam? Will this place have information about the Great Zapfish, and where to get it? Will Amber herself have all of that information on the channel? Is anyone else on that channel? And, more importantly;
Am I really, the last damn sliver of hope that Amber has of escaping? Or is she just playing nice? Because honestly, she seems a lot more like someone like me than, well, the rest.
Rather quickly, Amber had started walking in what felt like a slew of directions. From going straight, to left, a little right, more left, it was pretty crazy. We were navigating to where the robots were "managed", a big open area lit up. With what looked like bridges; except for navigating the buildings, they were at the top left and top right of the area. It almost looked like a landing pad of sorts, sucking up the center. Metal all around; and no more fog, but it still felt bleak. Lost once again though.. we met Number 4 doing an all nigher, while the rest of the place felt completely dead. Desks scattered around, but still aligned to the point of intent. Near me was the station Amber must of always worked in, a view of the entire "central" of their base. It looked like a bridge, but instead of the top left or right, it was a center facing south to the entire area. Inside of it was a bunch of mini-screens, all running, and a big white-board along one of the walls. The room was almost all red and grey, except for a few areas like the screens. There was a door facing South of the chair that had seemed pretty beat up, wonder what happened. The two of us kept on going straight, and we ended up in a hall-way like room with doors upon doors leading somewhere. And then after a solid two minutes of walking around this hall-way, she took a sharp left to a certain door. There was a number on top of it; 116. She stopped for a reason.
"Go in!" Amber said, in an almost scared tone. But still happy, and definitely more energetic than me. Maybe we just needed to be in a rush and I was just not having it, but I really need to stop dealing in "maybe" land.
I was quiet. Oddly. Usually, I would be chatty. Like how I would chat with the old members of Squidbeak when we would go out, and actually live a life while being an "Agent" if that's how you want to call it. A simpler time, where I was able to balance my teachings, friends from that, hanging out with Agent 2, Callie and Sam. The whole thing with my parents, it was able to fade in the background. And it still can with a bit of effort, thanks to the times where shit wasn't just slamming me in the face with "things" to do. Yeah, go here, do that, have fun in a dome of TVs, ratata, weeeee super jump YAY ZAPFISH and repeat till you run out of energy for the day. Training? Forget about it! I didn't need to train to be an Agent, I already had the skills from my lessons. And, not only that, but I doubt that an S rank couldn't do this job better than me. It wasn't the hardest thing in terms of movement, shooting, or whatever your good at. Just, the time management. The position your put in, the sacrifice you embrace. It's not like how it used to be; where one day you would be Ferra, hanging out with your old ass friends, coping with the loss of your parents in a house that's all yours, and the next your the fancy Agent 3, also known as Alex, hanging out with one of the most interesting people on the damn planet and getting to share experiences the world could never understand. What I had to deal with was pretty fuckin' shit, sure. Loosing both of my parents to individual car accidents two days apart, like those happen every damn day. One day, randomly a damn orphan with an entire house to their name at ten years old. Hooray. But if that didn't happen, then none of this would of happened. Do I thank them though? Or do I hate what happened with a burning passion? Do I hate them?
At least I remember them. A little bit.
Both of my parents were weird and great, but also horrible adults. I think they had great teen spirit, at least my mom did, and my dad definitely knew what it was like to be a little bit weird as a child. However, me and my father never talked much, as he would usually just drive out to work and if he came back in the next two days I was damn lucky. My mother was the main breadwinner of the family, so she was out often as well. What she was doing I would later find out, wasn't just doing her job but, it's okay. Thankfully, who would watch over me would be my half-sister. She just calls herself my sister, because we grew up together in a lot of ways. Especially since there was a point in time where babysitting just became conversations, as she's still in many ways a child while I was decently mature for my age. That's Callie for you. When my parents had passed, I didn't have much. Callie, being my baby-sitter, and Beck. Sam and Agent 2 never really entered any picture with me until Callie introduced me to the two, and I was twelve when that happened. So, being ten, I waited. After five months, I finally found a foster family who would accept me. The parent's name were Moby and Line, I only met up with those two on my first visit. We went to a restaurant near-by, and I noticed a couple of things. They were pretty religious, seemed happy together, and seemed to care about my position more than Beck, although our friendship was dwindling at that point. They asked if I wanted to change anything before I moved in, so, I changed my name; to Alex. It just made sense at the time, and it's stuck. Callie still pauses for a moment when saying Alex, like she's still somehow alien to the name and the idea. So, Moby and Line, who I now had to re-adjust to and call them my parents for that time being, took me in. Right next to that small white house, right next to it, you could walk less than ten minutes and get there, and that's if you're short. I hung out there a lot, it seemed semi-abandoned when I arrived. I would walk in front of the house and just stand, there wasn't too much blocking my view if I looked south, the train station wasn't even there. Just green, then a couple of weird figures, then the sky. And at night, it would just be an beautiful ambient light that slightly illuminates everything. A dark, deep blue and purple, you can only see it with your eyes. It reminds me of the family, just thinking of the view.
I heard a faint "xs" sound in the front of me. It wasn't enough to rip me out.
The home we lived in was really nice. It was decently big, it had a lot of "air" in its design, everything was spaced out. The parents, care-takers, I forgot what I called them at the end of the day, they had a biological daughter. At first, I didn't even know. They didn't bother to take her the first time I met them, so learning that threw me off. Turns out, she has a lot of anxiety and social issues when it comes to real life interactions. So, as some sort of trade-off, she was really connected to the internet; something was happening on there, she already knew about it. They named her Corbi. At first, I tried not to interact too much because of the social issues, but in the end we got along really well. We had some really interesting conversations about many, many things. We would be able to cram about ten conversations into just one or two, and for someone labeled as having social issues, she seemed to really like talking. However, it wasn't the kind of talking you would expect from a person you just met, or a long-time friend. It was mysterious; a type of talk you would hear from someone hinting to a damn suicide. Apparently, that's how she always talked. She barely laughed, just smiled, or had a small tear once in a while. But her laugh was so, authentic. If you got to hear it. Long-winded, but genuine. It was coming from a human place with mixed feelings, mixed inputs and outputs. And I can resonate with that now, quite a bit actually. I've taken her to the rooftop with all the signs, but that was when I had heard about it from word of mouth. So, we got to experience it together. I remember it the same way then as I do now. Once, we were looking at the stars standing, she had the standard green sweater on. As I still stood there, waiting for Beck to come on over so we could do some Turf War games in the middle of the night, she started walking back inside, getting ready to fall asleep (which usually means shuffling until three in the morning), and I thought that would be the end of our conversation about "moving on". Although, it ended with her saying, "Who knows; one day, you might hold my hand trying to save me, but really they're three clipped on." I stood there confused, as she had her back to me, walking to the door, I just spoke a nice, loud "Huh?". She responded, also semi-yelling, "You got a document saying everything about your life? No, but your mind sure does! Do you want that near you? Or do you want to move on to the future, whatever it holds? Jeez, I'll show you tonight." Beck picked me up later that day, and I didn't think about it until I came back home at around two in the morning. During the games though, I did think about a few things. Me and Corbi were definable people to just vent to, nothing much more. Maybe have a dumb conversation here and there, but even that I'm not so sure about. We never hung out together to play Turf Wars, I never showed her the house me and Beck would hang out in, and she was still in my life when this Agent 3 stuff started hitting my desk. The foster-parents had decided to move, as per usual every couple of years. They seemed rich after all, but I personally thought it was stupid to move at such a sudden notice. Corbi was okay with it though, and we spent the last few months saying good-bye in all the proper and nice ways, if you will. And I guess, one day she decided to show me an online friend of hers. I had just gotten back from one of the first long meet-ups with Sam, and she heard me trying to really carefully walk in. So, once I had already sat down, she knocked on my door in a weird manner, one I wasn't used to. I waited, and per usual, she opened to door without permission, like always. But instead of telling me something, she had just made the hand motion to "go somewhere". So, I followed her. Down the bedroom isle, which was like a mini-hallway. A red rug on the floor which didn't stretch to the ends of the walls, a ceiling the height of six foot doors, and a window at the end of it all, lighting it with a type of light I thought only I could see. The silent sounds as our feet hit the wood ground, it felt like a huge distance when really it wasn't even a minute away. We got to her room, which was at the right end of the hallway. She had a nice room, a decent size, bed in the very right corner of her room. A computer with the monitor facing the opposite direction of the door, and framed artwork on the far left of her room, racking up the walls. Notes from her parents, and even pictures reminding her of my existence and how I'm like "one of them". Being the mysterious type, Corbi had a chair next to her, and it looked like it was there all the time. I was invited to sit down next to her on said chair, and I did. She had headphones on, over-ear bulky ones too. I was never one for music at this point in life. She was talking to some of her online friends, and she didn't seem to care the fact that they were having an on-going conversation. Suddenly, she had put her headphones on me, and flipped one cup facing her direction. Leaning forward into her microphone (which I had just noticed), she whispered, "This is my brother! Tell him anything about me, I won't mind." Corbi had a type of smile of some sort of realization, some sort of switch had flipped in her head and everything was now okay. She was trying to hold back laughing, and it almost made me laugh. I met a guy named Flames that day, but you probably don't care about that.
"Alex! I can't have you zoning off like that, you idiot!" Amber had whisper-yelled. A solid ten minutes might have passed, maybe five. Time is weird. Amber winked at me, with that tiny smirk my eyes always fixated on. I accepted whatever it may have meant, and then she opened the door. 116, I thought, walking into what looked like an abandoned library. Something like that, everything was too dark. I couldn't see anything, all I could do was feel. I felt rust; scratching the surface of my hands, but not causing any cuts. I felt a place to sit down, and that wasn't as rusted. I needed to stay here for how long? Why am I here? Why is she doing this? What measure? Am I gonna-
Think straight, Alex. If you were to get out of here from this point on, there should be one priority.
Get Amber to live the city life for a day. Maybe that will bring back her past. Oh, and getting Sam. But for some reason, that didn't seem as important.
Speaking of which, my radio was making hissing noises. I picked it up, lowered the volume, and started speaking while holding the black rubber button on the side. I said, "is there a need to start over?"
Amber laughed on the com, a light chuckle, but it seemed important to her that I hear it. Otherwise, why would she hold that damn button. On the other side, I heard a foot hit the ground in conjunction with the laugh, she's still outside. I thought of a way to re-introduce myself, she wasn't responding on the coms, so I might as well make another move. "I'm Alex, and you are?"
"Amber. It's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Alex."
I wish I was able to spend more time with Corbi, and that had passed on to how I felt about Agent 2. Except, I don't think I understand her as much as I do now. Then again, I don't know if I would want to change that period of that life. When her family was all ready to move, Moby had made a secret deal to leave me with the house if I didn't like the new place. It sounds crazy, and it probably was illegal, but it happened. The new house was too far away for the "opportunity" waiting for me; being a proper member of Squidbeak. And for that reason alone I never took that house into much detail, never cared for anything about it. I didn't understand or even think about Corbi the same way either, compared to how I think about her now. She's probably the reason why Agent 2 and I got along so well; I learned a little bit of how to interact with those kinds of "mysterious" characters that have plagued my life and taken over my interest too many times. Moby forced me to make a promise if I were to keep their old house. Sure, if the lights are on and there isn't a sale sign next to the place, nobody would bother me. And they were rich enough as it is, although I never knew how much money they make, the numbers don't change the deal. But that wouldn't mean anything, if I wasn't able to start a new beginning without them. That was his one request; make a new chapter of my life without the Eyler family, start fresh. And the process of going back would be the transition period. So, I did. I started with Squidbeak, and made all these changes to my life. A few months later I would turn 14, already be having every-other-day hangouts with Agent 2, an entire new era of my life started.
And for some reason, I think this is the start of another one. Another ending, another beginning. This time, an ending to a life I never wanted to live, and a proper beginning to a life I never thought I would have the chance to live through. But I'm damn glad I grabbed it.
Notes: 4 months later, I'm bad with my word. But I hope it suffices. I didn't have much time to read this over, so there are probably problems wherever the hell and I'm probably going to come back and fix a lot. Especially with the scene with Alex and Amber walking down, I don't feel super satisfied. But I just want this out there, so here.
Consider it a rough draft. And I hope you enjoyed.
