Out

Remember, agents,
Always keep an escape route handy.
There's no shame in retreating from a fight.
If you're hurt,
Overwhelmed,
Or just need a moment,
Back off. Hide. Recover.
A delay is better
Than the alternative.

Here's what Callie knows about the season finale: she's supposed to do a show for their troops. She'll be assisted by a new character—after Callie let the name slip earlier, they decided her fellow musician for the performance should absolutely be a DJ named Octavio, which'll make Gramps happy. And while she's performing, Dr. Troutley and her crew will be sneaking in and doing... something. Probably freeing whatever character Callie starts off threatening.

Callie hates not knowing. But her job is simple: perform the Octarian version of Bomb Rush Blush over, and over, and over again, until she's given the right cue to leap off the fancy moving stage and pledge her eternal loyalty to Mr Fish.

Method acting. Again.

But it really isn't hard: when she gets her cue, she turns around (slow, dramatic, and stern.) "I told you to leave..." she says to the squid her guards have dragged in; one of the secondary characters. "Now you leave me no choice."

Without a word, the guards drag him out. He screams as he goes: good acting. But time for the concert. "Prepare to be rocked!" she shouts, posing dramatically. "Hey, DJ!"

She deliberately does not look to the side, where her fellow musician starts the background music. She waits until her next cue, staying still and calm. Who knows which cuts they'll end up using; she should give them at least one of her being stoic. "Time for our first song of the night: Bomb Rush Blush."

Then the music starts, and Callie loses herself in it. She's done this a million times, now. She's—

The stage shakes. Callie falls to one knee. What? That was—method acting. The stage is designed to move, to give a good perspective wherever they want to film from, no reason it can't shake too. Somewhere, they want reaction shots after things blow up.

So Callie scowls, gets to her feet, and flings her arms dramatically. "DJ! DROP THAT SPICY WASABI BEAT!"

That should take care of that. A good shot of the big bad's second in command, his silly but staunch supporter, refusing to stop... whatever this is. Honestly, this part of the script makes no sense to Callie, but she assumes it's because she's not party to everything the rest—

The stage shakes again, harder, and Callie cries out, pinwheeling her arms and falling to her side. She's panting as she stands up again. What was—

Something smacks the side of her face, and Callie staggers, pain in her nose, her ears, her vision coated in green ink—green? Her ink is pink. Why doesn't this ink sting? What is—

Callie's voice freezes in her throat, because everything looks different. Not just because it's green; the spots are already fading, the lights hurt her eyes, but Callie keeps her hands to her sore head because—because—because what is this.

She's on a... Callie's eyes lock on the audience surrounding them, a cheering, moving mass of Octarians, not an inkling or a jelly or crustacean in sight. The stage isn't just moving a little, designed to turn left or right for a better angle, but it's—she's flying, and what is—

Someone else starts singing. Callie whips her head around, trying to find—there's a flying van. Sheldon's flying van, just like her Gramps described in all those old game sessions, but there's no way it's real, she never told anyone about, and the song is almost that exact one she hummed to herself to get to sleep. And on the van...

An inkling girl with off-white tentacles tied in a bow, in a black dress with three green stripes and bright green tights. Hundreds of Octarians yell and scream around them, but the inkling girl's eyes stay locked on Callie.

Does she know that

The stage shakes again, and Callie gasps, going to one knee so she doesn't fall off. It doesn't matter what's going on. This is method acting, the strangest case of it yet, but Callie's job is clear: she's been told to keep singing.

So Callie takes a deep breath, ignores the other singer (ignores ignores ignores) and listens for her cue, then jumps back in.

But it's hard to ignore how their voices fit together. It's like two halves of a puzzle, like something she's been missing is right over there, and how in the world did—this is more than a scene change, this is more than special effects, and would they really do special effects on set? Wouldn't they be added in post production? And this feels right, and she knows that girl from somewhere. She does. She does.

There's pain in Callie's head. It's not from being shot. Something else is going on.

The stage shakes again, and Callie groans. Her head swims as she tries to keep her balance. In the machine—this is the octobot king, just as she remembers it from two years ago, but that can't be, it was just a game with gramps. But piloting it is DJ Octavio, her sworn enemy, but isn't he being held prisoner in a snow globe? Isn't he—but that was just a game, this is all just a show, but...

Why was she shot? Why are there only Octarians in the audience? She's been speaking only Octarian for—for how long? How long has she been filming? What is—

The stage shakes again, making Callie trip and catch herself, and DJ Octavio flies out. Below her is an inkling with a hero shot, in a hero suit just like the one Marie wore back when

Who's Marie?

The flying van swoops closer, and Callie looks up, her eyes catching on the other girl's face. Gold eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight together. She clenches her fists and shouts, "WAKE UP, CALLIE!" a tear slipping down her face.

Wake up?

It's not like she's dreaming this.

Is she?

Callie shakes her head, trying to get rid of these thoughts, because she needs to keep singing. Nothing matters except doing a good job. She has to do what she's been told she has to, but, but, that's Mary.

She didn't always sing solo, did she? She didn't think she did, but she watched all her concerts, and there was no one else holding the certificate, when she thought for sure she sang with her old friend Mary—Mary? Marie? Marie? Mary?

Why does she keep thinking about that old game she played with Gramps? Why does she remember Agent 3—that's not agent 3 down there, that's some other squidling, did they recruit someone else don't be silly why would they recruit someone for a game that ended years ago a game with

With goggles.
With goggles that could hypnotize someone.
Make them think things that weren't real were real.
You don't even know you're wearing them.

Callie's head pounds, and she clutches it with both hands. And doesn't that make sense? That she's trapped with hundreds of an enemy species being used by her greatest enemy rendered completely useless by a pair of fucking eyewear when—

She has to keep singing.

But why?

There's something important about music, something she can't remember. But...

She's not against this inkling, is she? She's not against... Mary. Marie. Mary. She should be on the same side. And there's something important about music, isn't there? "My... my head..."

Around her, the music—every sound—stops.

Callie can't remember the last time she was without music. Whenever she wakes there's flute, or piano when she eats, or trumpets when filming fight scenes, or something. There's been sound constantly since... she can't remember, and even the Octarians are silent.

Until drums and guitar start up, pounding in a way that matches her hearts, and Mary shouts, "Callie! Remember!"

Remember? She's been remembering. But she doesn't know—

"That heavenly melody!"

That heavenly—the song no one else knows. Something about one song they sang freed an Octarian from the goggles. It's the song she can never sing! The song everyone hates! "The one and only..." Callie whispers, because is she even sure of the words? Can she do this? If a recording worked then Marie would use that, wouldn't she?

But even this, now, is helping, because she's Agent 1. Agent 1 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. "I... I remember..." Callie stands up straight as the background track repeats, giving her time to pull herself together, pulsing energy from her toes to the tips of her tentacles. The truck Mary is on swoops closer, and Callie takes a deep breath, backs up three steps, and jumps. "YEAH!" she screams as she flies.

She doesn't make it clean, one foot catching the edge of the truck so she stumbles, but before she can fall Mary's got her. "Are you hurt?" Marie demands, pulling Callie into a hug. "I swear to cod, Cal, if—"

"I'm fine," Callie says, though she isn't, and she sinks into the hug and pulls Mary close and never wants to let go. "I just... how long was I gone? What happened? My head is all fuzzy, I, I don't know anything that's going on."

Marie squeezes her once, harder, then lets go. "I've done testing. This works best live. Come on, one performance of Calamari Inkantation," so that's what it's called "and you'll feel better."

Callie nods, though she wants nothing more than to grab Mary again and never let go, she can't remember the last time someone hugged her. "Let's do this, then."