The Rainbow Squids

by Branchwing

(HIATUS) The Rainbow Squids are like any other inkling youth, doing turf wars and what not. With accumulating fall-outs and a looming threat fast approaching, the next few months may their biggest test of friendship yet.

89. Bonus Story 5: The Pawn

Well, this is...a very long chapter. A whole 21k words! Hope you're prepared.

There's another Calamari Inkantation scene here, much like the one in Bonus Story 3. Thus, some of DJ Octavio's, some of Cap'n Cuttlefish's, some of Callie's, and some of Marie's dialogue is from Splatoon 1.

---

Oscar's PoV

"How is the coffee?" Oscar asked, tilting his head, a little curious as he cleaned one of the coffee brewers.

Roy continued working with his own coffee brewer, not even looking over at him. "Good." He put a mixture into the top, and put a white cup on the base. A brown liquid poured out, and a few minutes later, he removed the cup and put a lid on it. He wrote a name on it and gave it to Oscar. "Here."

He blinked. "Why give it to me?"

"No one else to give it to," he replied.

Oscar eyed the pick-up counter. Mr. Molas was standing behind it, his eyes wide as a customer waving a raised fist scolded him.

"...OK." He took the cup and walked over to the counter. He looked at the name on it and repeated it. "Coffee with cream for Yvonne!" After he finished speaking, he glanced at the name at the cup again. Yvonne?!

Indeed, the person he expected trotted up to the counter—a dark-skinned octoling with yellow hair tied in pigtails. Yvonne.

"Hi Oscar," she greeted. "Thanks for the coffee." She took the cup and proceeded to return to her seat. He opened his mouth to tell her to come back, but it was too late. Once again, she sat at a table near the window, drinking her coffee while she hunched over a book, yellow eyes scanning the text. He happened to know what book she was reading in particular—'Between these Domes,' a book written by an octoling, for octolings. Published a year ago, it was about one soldier's escape from the oppressive Octarian regime to see their inkling friend, who had they had not seen in a year. Oscar never read it himself, but Yvonne had regurgitated the plot to him so much that he had it ingrained in his head.

Oscar sighed and returned to the brewing machines. He still had an hour of work to go, and then, he would be free to whatever he wanted. He was planning to do league battles with Peyton, so that was what he would do. It had only been a few months since Peyton arrived at Inkopolis, but she was remarkably talented with the Tri-slosher. It was a perfect match for her.

As he continued brewing coffee, receiving orders, he got into a routine. Read it, take the ingredients and brew it, and then hand it off to a customer. However, it quickly grew dull. He was used to having a slow-paced life, but the current state of his job was a little too slow-paced for him. Even his old job as a technician was better than this. And barely anything was worse than his old job.

He shuddered. Now that he was in Inkopolis, he could have fun, and he would not have to worry about what DJ Octavio was doing.

Unfortunately, his mind continued to be plagued with worries and memories of the past.

---

October 31st, 2014

"Wake up, little Margina," a voice yelled, rousing the young octoling from his sleep. "It's the Hallow's Eve festival today."

Oscar lifted his eyelids, his orange eyes tired. He barely got any sleep last night, being too busy fixing Octotrooper locomotives. He rubbed them and sat up, looking at the newcomer. An elite octoling—a relatively standard one with dark, poufy hair, kelp trailing from her goggles—stood at the foot at his shoddy bed, tapping on a clipboard.

But, he always did enjoy the Hallow's Eve festival. It would be a nice change of pace.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, getting up. He only wore black shorts and an undershirt, a typical outfit for sleeping octolings. He walked towards the back of the bunker, where the changing rooms were located. He searched for his chest plate and boots, quickly finding them in a locker near the stall. He pulled them out, the leather shining in the fluorescent light. Underneath the chest plate were his goggles, the small lights on them deactivated. The bronze-skinned octoling grabbed it as well before heading to a stall to change.

With a fresh pair of underwear and a full uniform, he stepped out of the changing room, his vision now tinted lilac. He walked back to the main area, where other octolings were rousing from their sleep. His unit was rather average for a technician unit, having a size of fourteen. He had only known them for a couple of weeks, but he quickly came to befriend them. After all, he lived with them now. Good cooperation is essential to success.

Sitting at the furthermost bed was an older octoling. With bronze skin and magenta hair styled into a curtain cut, reaching his chin, he sat cross-legged, working on a broken Octo Shot. His brother, Angel, was two years his senior, though he didn't know him well. Siblings rarely got into the same unit, and they rarely even interacted if they weren't similar ages. Oscar had gotten lucky being placed in the same unit as his brother, if only because the person before him had been promoted recently.

The younger octoling now hovered over him, a poker face crossing his lips. "Hey."

Angel looked up and stood up, turning around to face him, arms outstretched. "Hey, now look who it is."

"Oscar," he stated.

"That's right," his brother remarked, patting his head. "You wanna see me put the finishing touches on this thing?" He held up the Octo Shot, twirling it around his finger for a few seconds.

"Sure," he replied.

Angel sat back down again, hunched over the Octo Shot. He screwed the barrel back in place and examined it for a few more seconds. He stood up, walking over a training dummy in the corner of the room. The older octoling's grip tightening, he aimed it at the squid-shaped dummy, the tank on the top of the shooter becoming filled with magenta ink. Oscar noticed some cracks in it, sealed together with some kind of gel. Angel fired, and the object popped after a few seconds, ink sliding down the sides. He looked down at the shooter, satisfied.

"It works," he declared. Oscar's brother walked over to an empty plastic case and placed the Octo Shot back inside. He closed the lid, the weapon now concealed inside of the shiny black box. He started walking towards the door. Before he pushed it open, Angel looked over his shoulder, smiling. "I'll meet you at the parade."

"Aw..." the boy with the afro whined. "Why can't we go together?"

"After today, it's back to work," he explained. "And I'm pretty sure the owner wants her weapon back."

"Alright..." Oscar pouted. "Bye."

"Bye."

Angel exited the building, and the elite octoling that had roused him from sleep blew a whistle, causing everyone to gather around her. A variety of octolings—all older than him—circled around her, their posture straight and shoulders bunched up. They stared into the beady lens of the elite's goggles, watching her next move.

She did a head count and frowned. "Where's Angel?" she asked, voice stern.

"He went to return the Octo Shot he was fixing," Oscar spoke up immediately. It was always a good idea to keep on an elite octoling's good side. Horrible things happened to the disobedient.

"Ah," she said, disappointed. "To the post office, I assume."

"He said he'll be back in time for the parade."

"I see." The elite octoling wrote down something on her clipboard and set it down on a counter next to her. "Well, since no one has gone missing, it is time."

"Yes!" Oscar cheered, pumping a fist. His colleagues looked at him, puzzled.

"...Why are you excited?" asked the girl next to him.

"He's new," whispered another girl. "Let him find out for himself."

"...Huh?" The boy with the afro lowered his hand, confusing himself. He looked back over at the elite octoling. She had pulled a drawer open, grabbing a small case out of it. She closed and locked it before walking back to the group. She walked up to Oscar and presented him the case.

"For you," she informed.

He took the case and examined it. It was a small black box, with a golden sticker on the top of it, magenta octopus tentacles prominent on the sticker. He opened the box and pulled out its contents.

...It was a knife.

A traditional knife, in fact. The handle was made from a dark wood, an Octarian saying engraved on one side, and his initials on the other side. The bolster was made of gold, and the blade was long and thin, perfect for cutting. He took off the sheathe—which had magenta octopus designs on it much like the case—off to examine the blade. It was silver and tapered to one side.

He sheathed the knife and put it away. "Thank you," he said, bowing.

He had nearly forgotten about the ritual teenaged and adult octolings performed on festivals such as the Hallow's Eve festival. Every octoling was gifted a knife when they came of age, specifically for these rituals. All involved cutting a tentacle off, so that an Octarian may form and bring forth new life. It was the reason he was gifted this knife, so that he may participate in the ritual itself.

"Now, we can go," instructed the elite octoling. "Follow me."

They exited the building, onto the streets of the dome city, buildings both conical and cubical in shape reaching towards the sky. Today was certainly livelier than others—Octarians were out on the streets, partying and dressed in the circus outfits often associated with today. They traveled from the rooftops of buildings, down to the central area, the lowest part of the dome. Just below them was the abyss, where several Octarians had met their unfortunate demise. Stairs from different parts of the city reached down to this central area, and already were the denizens crowding around the main attraction.

A giant statue of DJ Octavio's humanoid form stood in the middle of the courtyard, their leader depicted with eight arms, just like an octopus. His main arms were crossed, snug to his chest, while his other arms held sticks of wasabi. The statue was on top of a wooden platform, a polka-dotted curtain falling from the sides. Some Octotroopers were positioned near the platform, though they were merely chatting among themselves at the moment.

Some time passed, Oscar standing still in the position his commander assigned him. Angel was supposed to stand next to him, but he had yet to return. His orange eyes darted around the area, nervous. Where is he? His gaze directed itself towards the giant clock, located on a tower hanging over the courtyard. Five minutes until noon. The parade was going to start any moment!

After what seemed like an eternity, he saw a familiar figure running down the steps, towards the crowd of Octarians. From his hair, Oscar recognized him almost immediately—Angel had arrived. The younger octoling raised his hand and started waving it around to grab his brother's attention. The older boy smiled and pushed his way through the crowd of Octarians, soon occupying the empty space to Oscar.

"You're back!" the boy with the afro enthused.

"Yeah," the other boy confirmed, rubbing the back of his head. "Took me longer than I thought, but I'm here now."

"Why did it take so long?" Oscar asked.

"There was a line," he answered. "A lot of people had unfinished business."

"But why submit it today? We're supposed to be having fun."

"Yeah, but get your work out of the way before you have fun. That's how it works."

The bronze-skinned boy frowned and returned his attention to the statue. The bell chimed twelve times, and the platform the statue stood on lifted ever-so-slightly. Some octolings wearing face paint emerged from behind the statue and began to dance. One started to juggle Octoballs, the chubby Octarians cheering as they flew through the air from one hand to another.

Oscar's mouth fell on the sight. Memorizing, it was. Before today, he had been on his own float with all the other school-aged kids. He found themselves lost in their movements, hypnotized. The parade float crept by, behind it some more parade floats. The one directly behind the statue was the parade float the school kids designed. This year, it was, unsurprisingly, in the shape of DJ Octavio, a mechanical tentacle waving back and forth. Young octolings popped out from the wooden structure's eyes, waving their stubby hands. In front of the statue, a Twintacle Octotrooper was playing the piano.

More parade floats passed, each with varying designs. Eventually, the last parade float arrived, a pale-skinned octoling on top of a tower. Wooden tentacles shot up from the edges of the platform the tower stood on, and Octotroopers wearing clown outfits danced around it. The final float stopped in the middle of the courtyard, and the tower raised, the octoling standing on the top now looking over the crowd.

Despite having never seen this octoling before, Oscar recognized her as Yaki—a girl only a few years older than him, but she had a remarkably high position in Octarian society. Her tentacles were long and black, three of them reaching her feet. Her fourth tentacle framed her chin, giving her an overall elegant look. She wore a simple black kimono with maroon highlights, circular patterns towards the bottom of it. Her belt was also maroon, donning golden octopus designs once again. From here, Oscar couldn't tell what shoes she wore, but he assumed she wore traditional sandals. Her cold blue gaze swept the arena, silencing everyone at once.

"At last, in the middle of autumn, as the leaves change and fall, comes the fabled Hallow's Eve festival," she began. "When the tricksters come out to play, along with it comes the circus. Decay comes, but with it brings new life. No matter if you are an Octotrooper or the most elite octoling, everyone can participate in this cycle of life."

Yaki continued on with her speech, the Octarians enthralled with her. Even Oscar had to admit that she was pretty, even if he wasn't attracted to her like the other boys in his unit. He gave a quick glance over at Angel, noticing a small blush spread across his face. He returned his attention to Yaki. The official pulled out a knife much like the one Oscar had received earlier.

"And now, we bring forth new life." She brought the knife to her shorter tentacle, pressing the edge against its underside.

The bronze-skinned octoling pulled out his own knife and unsheathed it. He looked over at his brother again. Like Yaki, he pushed his knife's edge against the underside of his tentacle. Oscar felt his own hair. Just how was he going to make a cut?

"Angel," he hissed through his teeth. "Help."

The older octoling looked over at him. He lowered his knife and sheathed it, placing it in his belt. He grabbed Oscar's arm and directed the knife to the front of his afro. He angled it outwards and put a little pressure on the knife. Oscar flinched at the slight incision and gulped.

"It'll be gone as soon as it comes," he comforted him as if he could read his thoughts. "Don't worry."

An octoling standing on the parade float aimed a charger towards the sky, a megaphone attached to the butt of the gun. She pressed down on the trigger and fired it, and at that moment, Yaki sliced the knife through her tentacle, causing the lock to fall to the ground. Everyone else followed: Oscar closed his eyes and forced the knife through his afro, clenching his teeth. He heard something smack down on the floor, and he opened his eyes. A magenta chunk of his hair lied at his feet, the white underside showing.

Angel sheathed his knife, put it away, and picked up the tentacle that had fallen from his head. Oscar mimicked him, holding the chunk in his bronze-skinned hands. He stared down at it, confused. How long did it take again...?

Suddenly, the crowd in front of him shuffled, much to the boy's bewilderment. Then, with a surprising force, something rammed into his legs, and he fell backwards, dropping the chunk of hair. An Octarian rolled onto his chest, their yellow helmet becoming misaligned.

"Wha-?!" he gasped. He sat up, the Octarian dropping into his lap.

The Octarian looked up and let out a cry. "Ah!" they exclaimed, jumping. "I'm sorry!" They leaped out of his lap, trying to run away.

"Hey, wait!" Oscar rolled forward and grabbed the Octarian, wrapping his arms around them. "You can't just run in here!"

The Octarian looked up at the boy, a giant frown spreading across their face. "I-I said I'm sorry! Leave me alone!" Their fat purple lips were quivering, a tear falling from beneath their helmet.

He stood up, looking down at them. He felt bad. Usually, he would usually shoo a nosy Octarian away, but this one... Something about their apologetic nature made them hard to resist.

"...It's OK," he muttered, patting their head.

He noticed a pair of eyes staring down on him. His gaze drifting to his left, he noticed Angel staring at him, his mouth agape. A Twintacle Octotrooper carrying a woven basket walked in front of him, and the tentacle he had cut off rolled out on his hands, into the basket.

"Why...?" the older octoling started, but his voice trailed off.

It was then Oscar received a kick to his shin, causing him to drop the Octarian and grab his leg. "Ow!" he cried out, looking down at the source. The Twintacle Octotrooper was staring at him, scowling.

"Alright, alright," he grumbled, picking up the chunk of hair that had fallen from his afro. He plopped it the basket, and the Octotrooper gave a smile of satisfaction before moving on.

The Octarian that had ran into him had fallen on their head, their legs flailing in the air. Oscar picked them back up and returned his attention to the parade float. Yaki was waving her pale hand, her gaze drifting across the crowd as the platform moved on. In front of the tower, where the tentacle cut from her head had landed, an Octotrooper began to take shape, though it was merely a tentacle with legs at the moment. Its eyes and mouth had yet to form, but Oscar reckoned that it would be a fully-formed Octarian by the time Yaki and her posse left.

After the parade float disappeared into the jungle of city buildings, the crowd began to disperse. Oscar's commander waved her hand in the air, summoning his team members to her. She did a head count, stopping when she reached Oscar.

"A Tentakook?" she puzzled. "That's new."

"I wouldn't mind an Octarian," one of the older octolings remarked. "But why a Tentakook? They're useless!"

The Tentakook Oscar held frowned, pressing their body against the bronze-skinned boy's chest.

"I think they got lost," he defended, his voice calm. "They're staying with me."

"What use would a Tentakook have though?" another octoling argued. "They get scared and run away at a drop of a needle!"

"I think they're cute," a third octoling noted. She walked over to Oscar and took off the Tentakook's helmet. They closed their singular eye, lips thinning. "See?"

"So you want it," started the second octoling, "for moral support."

"Could be useful, yeah," the third octoling muttered.

Angel took the helmet out of the third girl's hands and placed it back on the Tentakook. "They're coming back with us," he announced, patting Oscar on the back.

The elite octoling commanding them sighed. "Very well. Let's go." She turned her glare towards the boy with the afro. "If they get into trouble, it's on you, little Margina," she warned.

"I'll keep an eye on them," Oscar promised.

"Me too," Angel agreed.

"Heh." Their commander smiled and gestured for the unit to follow her.

As they traveled through the festive streets of the dome, Oscar looked down at the Octarian. They still rested in his hands, remaining silent.

"Hey," he muttered, poking them. He turned them around so that they faced the boy. "What's your name?"

"E-Emery..." they muttered.

"Emery," he reiterated. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh..." Emery's lip started to quiver again. "You're so nice, Mr. Margina!"

"Don't cry!" he tried to calm them. "Just call me Oscar."

"I'll try not to...Oscar." The Tentatook gave a small smile. "I promise."

---

January 2015

On the surface, Oscar walked through the grass, light flurries floating down on him. Trailing behind him were Angel and an octoling girl a year older than his brother, and the trio wore the same coat—a black leather jacket with the collar popped out. It was unzipped, exposing the chest plate and black undershirt octolings typically wore in the domes. They all wore longer pants instead of their usual shorts; it was a perfect outfit for the middle of winter.

They weren't just out here on an afternoon stroll, however. They came out to Mount Nantai for one reason—to scavenge for spare parts.

The third octoling—whose name was Mila, Oscar learned—scanned the area with a poker face. "Why out here? Can't we go to Inkopolis?"

"Aren't you impatient," Angel snarked. "I trust that the scouts' reports were accurate. There should be a tent around here..."

They traveled deeper into the forest, the area dimming.

"It's gonna be filled with stuff we can use, right?" Oscar enthused. "Like, new metal, or some gears!"

"Mhm," the boy with the curtain cut confirmed. "That's what the scouts say."

"It's purple, right?" Mila asked him. "Weird that it's that color."

"Then it shouldn't be hard to find," the boy with the afro bubbled. "Right?"

"Right," Angel replied.

The grass crunching with every step, the three octolings traveled through the forest. He heard a stream flowing nearby, birds chirping. The thick branches seemed to be intertwined, only getting thicker as the woods grew dense. Eventually, Mila pulled out a flashlight, a button clicking as she turned it on. A beam of light shot out of the front, illuminating the area up ahead. Still, they saw nothing of note.

They continued their trek. "I hope this isn't a bust..." Oscar muttered. "I'm getting cold."

"Zip your jacket up, then," Angel suggested. "We're too far to stop back at Octo Valley."

He gave a slight nod and followed his instructions. Not long after that, Mila suddenly perked her head up, her curly tentacles twitching.

"There it is!" she exclaimed, her tentacles soon moving faster. She ran out ahead, much to the brothers' disdain. They ran after her, and soon, Oscar saw it, too. A purple tent. A smile grew on his face. At last, their journey was over!

His joy quickly dissipated as he tripped over the root of a tree, falling on his face, into the dead leaves. A few seconds later, as he prepared to stand up, a sharp pain shot through his cheek, much to his alarm. He stood up and looked at the half-frozen creature now dangling from his face. With a long body and snout and beady eyes, it kind of reminded him of the pictures of seahorses he saw. But, this creature had no legs. A single fin poked out of its back, slowly getting faster and faster as its body warmed up. Slowly, its color changed from green to magenta.

Oscar grabbed the creature and tried pulling it off. "Help!"

Mila gasped and pulled out a pair of tweezers. The olive-skinned octoling approached him and gripped the creature's mouth with the silver tool. She pulled it off, the sting quickly fading from his cheek. She examined it as it dangled in midair.

"Looks like a pipefish, alright," she remarked.

"Those things feed off of ink," Angel added. "You must've woken one up when you fell."

Oscar's eyes grew wide with fear. "Feed?!"

"Oh, yeah," Mila confirmed. "A girl I knew got swarmed by an entire pack of them when we were out here once and died. Angel was her replacement." The younger octoling grew still, mouth falling open. "Cheer up, little Margina. That's very rare. And they're most active in the summer, anyways. Don't worry about it." She threw the pipefish aside and smiled. "See? Nothing to worry about now!"

Oscar gulped and lifted his hand from his shoulder. He had been rubbing it, it seems. He gave a nervous smile and watched as the older octoling handled the tent. Angel held the tent open while Mila explored the inside of it.

She poked her head out and replied, "Well, the scouts weren't lying. This is the tent. Doesn't look really useful, though. Just a bunch of toys."

"W-Well, we can melt the toys for plastic, right?" Oscar spoke up. "Plastic's useful!"

"Plastic's tricky," she argued. "There's a lot of different plastics, and many of them can't be combined together. So, we would have to identify the plastic each toy uses to see what it can be used for. That takes a while. And even then, some plastics can't be used at all."

"Do we have to do that?"

"No, that's for other units to do."

"Back to the subject," Angel spoke up. "Help me get rid of these stakes, Oscar. Then we can carry the tent back to our dome."

"Right!" the boy with the afro exclaimed, fixing his posture. While Mila sorted through the materials inside the purple tent, the brothers went on opposite sides of it. Oscar pulled out a cutting knife and sawed through the rope, releasing the tent from the stake. The front of the tent began to sag, and as the other stakes were released, the fabric collapsed, settling around Mila's body. The olive-skinned octoling crawled outside, grabbing the rope.

"Let's go," she announced.

They traveled out of the forest, back to Octo Valley. They opened a manhole just outside of the valley and climbed down into it, the tent trailing behind them. They hopped onto a tractor, putting the tent in the back seat with Oscar. He grabbed onto the tent, watching as Mila climbed into the driver's seat and Angel into the passenger's seat. The vehicle started up, and a few seconds later, they were off on a track that would lead them to their dome.

Some time later, they arrived at their dome, the artificial light hitting Oscar's eyes after what seemed like hours in the dark tunnels. After they parked, he grabbed the tent and hopped out of the tractor, followed by Angel and Mila. Together, they wandered through the streets, heading back to their barracks. After they arrived, the octoling girl knocked on the metal door, and their commander answered.

"Mila, Angel, Oscar, you're back," she remarked. "Did you get the tent?"

"Mhm." The boy with the afro pulled the tent in front of him. The elite octoling put a hand on her chin, pulling the tent open. With a satisfied smile, she nodded.

"See what you can use," she instructed. "Send anything you can't use back to me."

The three octolings saluted and brought the tent inside the building. They went to one of the sorting rooms and emptied the tent, setting the fabric aside. Angel and Mila began sorting through them, throwing plastic toys in one pile and metal objects in the other. Oscar was left to inspect them after they were sorted, making sure they didn't throw a plastic object in the metal pile or a metal object in the plastic pile by accident.

Angel threw a pair of shoes behind him, landing in the plastic pile. However, the boy with an afro caught a glint on the bottom of the shoes. He caught them, feeling something smooth. He looked down at them.

On the soles of the shoes were wheels. He remembered seeing something like them when he was in elementary school, but he couldn't quite recall the name of them.

The shoes could only fit that of a young inkling, though. Fully-grown octolings could not wear them.

...But could an Octarian wear them?

Like a thunderbolt, inspiration struck him. What if he made mini versions of the shoes? Then Octarians could be faster than ever!

Eyes wide, he started digging through the piles, looking for wheels he could use.

Mila turned around with a grimace, followed by Angel. "What are you doing?" the former questioned.

"Small wheels!" he exclaimed. "I need to find some!"

"What for?"

Angel chuckled. "I have a good feeling about this," he muttered. He whispered something to the olive-skinned octoling before saying, "Well, why not try looking at some of the broken vehicles? They're archaic at this point, but they're bound to have some."

"Like Octotroopers use?" Oscar asked. The octoling with the curtain cut nodded. "Great idea!"

He ran into the hallway, to the disposal room, a small room in the corner of the building. He dashed inside, piles upon piles scrap metal, smashed against the walls, towering over him. The only part of the room uncovered was the exit, where Octarians would eventually come to send the junk elsewhere. The piles seeming to reflect himself in each and every piece, he carefully crept around the room, looking for a small pile to take from.

Octotrooper vehicles aren't that big, he assured himself. I have nothing to worry about.

Towards the back of the room, he spotted broken vehicles scattered about. He kneeled over it and started examining them. Obviously, they were worse for wear, but Oscar could see some semblance of use out of them. Octotroopers could always use back-up mechanisms in case the most current versions of their vehicles, which didn't use wheels, failed.

He only needed two vehicles with all four wheels to make a pair of these shoes with wheels. After digging through a few, he found what he needed. The tops were completely destroyed, but the bases of both vehicles were still intact.

Smiling, he grabbed it and left the room, making sure nothing fell over. He walked through the metal halls again, DJ Octavio's music echoing throughout them. He stopped by the sorting room to find that Mila and Angel had left. The pair of shoes with wheels on them were left on a desk behind the plastic and metal piles.

"Thanks, Angel," he whispered to himself. He took the shoes and proceeded to go to his final destination—a private work area. He didn't have tools on him at all times, so he needed to grab some, which the work area would have. He also needed a quiet place to work. In the back room, no one would bother him. Only the drumming of Octavio's beats would give him peace of mind.

When he entered the storage room, he gasped. He forgot the most important part—shoes! Octarians couldn't use the shoes with wheels if no actual shoes were involved. Panicked, he ran over to the red tool box in the back of the room and started looking in it. After looking through a few drawers, he pulled his ear and shook his head. What was he thinking? Why would Octarian shoes be in a tool box?

He started looking in the other corners of the room. Nothing. Frustrated, he sat down at the work bench and planted his face on the surface of it, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Oscar?"

He turned his head to the side to see Emery, his Tentakook friend. Were they following me the whole time? he wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" they asked, waddling over to his chair.

The bronze-skinned octoling sat up, resting his hands on his lap. "Hi Emery," he greeted. "I was just going to start something."

"Ooh, what?" the Octarian asked.

"It's a surprise," he teased. Recalling the missing part of his next creation, he asked, "Oh! Can I use your boots?"

Emery frowned. "Why my boots?"

"Like I said, it's a surprise!"

They pouted. "Fine." They took their shoes off and kicked them up to Oscar. "I'll get new ones." The now-barefoot Tentatook started to walk out of the room, much to the octoling's alarm.

"Hey, wait, don't go!" he called, extending his arm out towards the doorway. "You can stay and watch. I'll give you the boots back if this works."

Emery turned around, their plump lips turning upward. "OK. But only because it's you."

Oscar lifted the boots from his lap, to the white work bench. He placed the wheels he had taken from Octotrooper vehicles in one pile and other metals he thought he would need in the other. He put the large shoes with wheels on them to the side for reference. He walked over to the coat rack and grabbed a black welding mask off of it, fastening it over his head. He pulled out a welding torch from the tool box, as well as a smaller tool box for other tools. Finally, he put on heavy-duty gloves and started working on the shoes.

He welded blocks of metal to the soles of each shoe, even if the rubber melted a little bit. It might end up being uncomfortable for Emery, but it was the best he could do for now. He drilled holes into the sides of the metal blocks and inserted the wheels—which he had fastened on axles—inside. Finally, he welded stoppers to the metal block, successfully creating a rather poor imitation of the shoes with wheels.

But something was missing. Something that would give it that special Octarian flare.

He pulled up the welding mask and stared at the shoes with wheels, tapping his fingers on the table. He had managed to recall its name—roller skates. Working on them seemed to have dug up a long-lost memory of his, where he happily skated with his fellow octolings on school grounds. When he didn't have to worry about work. He gave a sad smile at the thought.

At least he had Emery and Angel. They made working here better. In fact, they were pretty much the only two friends he had now. Even if one was his brother and the other was an Octarian he picked up off the street.

He thought of the times he watched octoling soldier drills, watching different colors of ink fly between them, like they would do if they were faced against an inkling. That seemed a lot more fun than a technician's job. Too bad his fate as a technician was sealed the moment he was born.

Thinking of the mock battles octoling soldiers did, an idea came to him. He hopped off the chair, towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Emery asked.

"The disposal room," he replied.

"Oh," they simply muttered, going silent.

Oscar stifled a laugh remembering the last time Emery came with him to the disposal room. The Tentakook heard a sound and panicked, running into a pile of Octorpedoes. They had collapsed on them, trapping the Octarian inside. Their hard hat saved them from any serious injury, but it was still an unpleasant experience for Emery. It was also funny. Perhaps he could've been a little nicer at that moment, but at least he could look back on it and laugh.

He returned to the disposal room, where it had been unchanged since his last visit. He returned to the pile he had been scavenging at previously, though this time he was looking for the tops of vehicles. He picked up one and opened the fueling port. A small ink tank slid out, though it was half-empty. He tossed the vehicle aside and stashed away the ink tank. He repeated the same procedure with a second vehicle, obtaining a completely empty container, and he soon took both ink tanks back to the private work area.

"You're back!" Emery exclaimed, jumping up and down. "...Why do you have ink tanks?"

"For this thing I'm doing," Oscar answered. "Just give me a few more moments."

He opened the ink tanks and pulled out his Octo Shot, filling the tanks up with his own ink. He closed them and welded a metal pipe to the bottoms of them, then connecting them to the roller skates. After they cooled, the octoling took one last look at them. At last, they were finished.

"Ta da!" he cheered, holding up the pair of roller skates. "It's my latest creation!"

The Tentakook looked up at them. "What is that?"

"Roller skates!" the boy announced. "But your size."

"Just for me?" they asked.

"Just for you."

The bronze-skinned octoling crouched down and helped put the roller skates on Emery. After he fastened them, the Octarian stood back up, taking a few moments to regain their balance.

"Woah! This is weird!" they remarked. They skated a few feet, magenta ink dripping from the tank attached to the back of the roller skates. "But...cool!" They spun in a circle and jumped. "You do so much for me Oscar, I have to thank you!"

"It was nothing," he stated, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward smile. "You're my friend, after all. And I have to be nice to my friend, right?"

Emery said nothing in response, a wide smile spreading across their face.

"...Emery?" The octoling boy's face fell, puzzled.

"N-Nothing!" they answered, a fat tear falling from beneath their helmet. "I'm j-just...so happy!" The Tentatook tackled Oscar, causing him to roll backwards. He hit a shelf rack with a thud, causing it to rumble. With a groan, he and Emery looked up at the shelf.

"Ah!" the Octarian gasped. Before Oscar could say anything else, they darted off, and the shelf proceeded to fall, a small, red toolbox colliding with his forehead as it slid off the shelf. The boy made a sound and threw his head back as pain surged through the area of contact. His hands lifted off the ground momentarily, and he fell on his back, the shelf rack now resting on top of him. Spread around him were various metallic objects.

Oscar groaned, his vision blurring momentarily. That hurt.

He heard the door open. "What happened?!" he heard Mila exclaim. Soon, footsteps neared him, and an olive-skinned octoling hovered over him. The girl sighed. "Margina..."

"Yes...?" He was still dazed from the toolbox hitting him.

"What. The. Shell."

He heard another set of footsteps enter the back room. "What happened?" inquired Angel.

"The shelf fell over; now help me get this thing off your brother," Mila explained.

"Huh? My... Oh my cod, Oscar!" He ran over to the boy with the afro and grabbed the shelf rack. "On three, Mila." The octoling girl proceeded to grab the rack as well. "One, two, three!"

The two lifted the shelf off of Oscar and helped him up. The younger octoling gripped his head, feeling the pain throb through it.

"You OK?" Angel asked.

"No..." he muttered.

"Lucky you didn't pass out," Mila commented.

The boy with the curtain cut sighed. "I'll get him an ice pack."

"And I'll help him out," added the girl with curly hair.

Grabbing Oscar's arm, she guided him out of the room, into the bunkers, where Emery skated around. The other members of his unit were watching them, distracted.

"What are you doing?" yelled the commander. The bronze-skinned boy looked to the side, where the elite octoling had entered from her office. "Why aren't you..." She paused as her attention directed itself towards the Tentakook. "...Oh."

Emery stopped skating, turning around to face the elite octoling. "Huh... Ah!" They gasped and scrambled away. "I'm in trouble, aren't Iiii!"

"No, you aren't." She stepped in their way and grabbed them. "But what are you wearing?"

"Roller skates," they replied. "O-Oscar made them for me."

"Little Margina?" She turned around to face him. Angel had just arrived, giving his brother the ice pack. He lifted it to his forehead, the pack cold to the touch as he brushed his fingers over it.

"Yes?" he asked.

She gave a rare toothy smile. "You're a genius!"

He blinked. "I am?"

She nodded quickly. "These 'roller skates' are revolutionary! With these, perhaps we can finally make Tentakooks useful!" The elite octoling pulled out a tablet and started walking back to her office. "I have to let the others know."

Oscar merely blinked, rounding his shoulders. What is she doing? He knew he should be happy, yet he didn't feel that way.

"Oh, aren't you happy?" his commander puzzled when she looked over her shoulder. "Stop hunching; you need to be on your best behavior when the other wasabi supply unit commanders get here."

It took a few seconds for her words to register in his head. His jaw grew slack, his body immediately shooting up straight. The other wasabi supply unit commanders! Was he getting promoted?

He took a deep breath, and regaining his composure, he exclaimed, "Yes, commander!"

She disappeared, and tired of standing, he relaxed. Oscar sat down at the foot of his bed, letting Emery roll into his lap. He groaned, curled up over the Tentakook.

"Wow!" they beamed. "The commander noticed you!"

"Y-Yeah," he muttered with a shaky smile. He gritted his teeth as the ice pack grew too cold for him. He lifted it off of his forehead, setting it down next to him. Soon enough, his forehead pain returned. He turned sideways and laid down, Emery balancing themself on his belly. "I'm taking a nap."

"OK." The Octarian hopped off of him and took a few steps away from the bed. "I'll see you later." They ran off, presumably hiding again.

Taking a deep breath, Oscar closed his eyes, soon drifting off to sleep.

His nap was short-lived, as he quickly roused from sleep at the sound of a booming voice. His limbs flailed as he scrambled to get up. He nearly bumped his head on the bed frame as he stood up. The bronze-skinned boy found himself staring at the beady lights of an elite octoling's goggles, her face unfamiliar.

"What are you doing?" she scolded, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. "Good octolings don't take naps in the middle of the day!"

"Give him a break!" one of his comrades called. "He hit his head earlier!"

"I don't recall you being an elite," the unfamiliar octoling snarled, snapping her head around. She returned her attention to Oscar. "You hit your head, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, be more careful!" she jeered once again. "If all octolings were as careless as you, the infirmary would be at its breaking point!"

Oscar flinched. "I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I won't do it again!"

"Ahem," another voice called. His orange eyes drifted over to the doorway leading deeper into the building, where his commander stood. "We have something to discuss, Commander Ruby. The others are already in the back,"

The octoling yelling at him hissed through her teeth. "Fine. Where's the Margina kid you were talking about?"

"Here." The boy with the afro gingerly raised his hand.

"Huh?" The elite he presumed to be Commander Ruby turned around. "Oh! Hehe. Come to the back, now."

Oscar frowned as she disappeared into the hallway, and, with a lowered head, he followed them. His commander propped his head up as he entered a rather barren room with grey walls and grey floors. All that was in the room were a table and some chairs. A plastic sign depicting an octopus was in the back of the room as well. Sitting at the table were various elite octolings, most of which he didn't recognize. However, the end of the table, one octoling held a certain Octarian. Emery.

"Take a seat," his commander whispered, pulling out the chair closest to the doorway. He sat down, and Ruby closed the door behind him. The two elite octolings took their seats, and the octoling holding Emery cleared her throat.

"We are here today to discuss a new invention created by Mr. Margina," she began. She placed the roller skates Emery wore earlier on the table, allowing the other elite octolings to ogle at them. "'Roller skates,' he called them. They were used on this Tentakook, Emery..."

"Bimac," Emery supplemented. "That's the last name of the octoling I spawned from, at least."

Another elite octoling had pulled out a piece of paper, writing information down. "Which Bimac?" she asked. "That last name is common."

"Which Bimac? I... Um..." Emery pursed their lips, deep in thought. "Her name started with an E..."

A third elite octoling had been looking through a tablet, and she proposed, "Emily Bimac? She's an octoling who was employed by the Department of Energy about three years ago."

"Yeah! That sounds about right!" the Tentakook remarked.

"The name sounds similar enough," Ruby jested.

"And, for your file, Emery," the octoling writer spoke up, "when is your birthday?"

"November 19th," they answered.

"Of what year?"

"Uh...2013!"

"Young," she remarked. She put down her pen and allowed the octoling holding Emery to continue speaking.

"Anyways, the roller skates were used on Emery Bimac, and they were successful," she resumed. "Obviously, as a prototype, it has its flaws, but its basic purpose is clear—to allow Tentatooks a faster mode of transportation. Is that correct, Oscar Margina?"

Eyes turning on him, Oscar gave a nervous nod. "W-Well, I meant it to be for all Octarians, but yes, that's correct."

"But you cannot deny that they make Tentakooks more useful, yes? Because of their inability to operate transport vehicles like Octotroopers, their shape, and their skittish nature, they were primarily used for carrying things, like the parade floats we use in festivals. However, with the roller skates, their purpose can be expanded to more frontline roles. Especially with the addition of ink tanks."

"Yes," he said, unsure what else to say.

"Commander Evie," she then said, looking over at Oscar's commander. "Do you think Mr. Margina deserves to be promoted?"

"Yes," his commander concurred immediately. "He's a hard worker who clearly cares for the work he does. After his first month with us, the number of mistakes he does has steadily decreased, and when he does make a mistake, he is quick to correct them. He'll go far, I can tell."

"I see," the elite octoling holding Emery remarked. "In that case..."

She snapped her fingers, and the shadows in the corner of the room seemed to move. Emerging from them was an octoling with incredibly long hair that framed her pale-skinned face. Her hands were pressed together, the sleeves of a kimono draping from her forearms. Her blue gaze was cold, seeming to pierce through Oscar's soul.

Yaki. He hadn't seen her in person since the Hallow's Eve festival.

"Lady Yaki," the octoling continued. "What do you think? Should this young octoling be promoted?"

"After everything I've heard, I think the answer is obvious," the official replied. "Someone as smart as him shouldn't be sitting in an ordinary wasabi supply unit. He should be going higher."

"And where do you suggest he go?" one elite octoling near Oscar asked.

"Simple. DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit."

The serious expressions donned by the elite octolings went slack, everyone stiffening. Oscar couldn't believe his ears. He was being offered a position in DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit by Yaki, out of all people. A position in DJ Octavio's wasabi unit! It was an honor to be in their leader's presence at all, so chances like this were few and in between. A large smile started to spread across the octoling boy's face, unable to contain his joy.

"DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit?" the octoling holding Emery reiterated. "Are you sure?"

"When have I gone back on my word?" Yaki challenged, her tentacles tensing with irritation. "I'll fill out the paperwork, and Margina will be transferred there by tomorrow."

"Then that settles it," said the octoling scribe, pulling out a different piece of paper to write on. After she put her pen down, she continued, "The meeting has come to an end, has it not?"

"Actually..." Oscar spoke up as something crossed his mind. "Will Emery be coming with me, too?"

"Emery?" Yaki repeated. "The Tentakook?" The boy with the afro nodded. "Well, that can be arranged."

"Thank you very much!" he exclaimed, his smile growing.

"Everyone is dismissed," the official at last declared.

The group stood up. The octoling that held Emery let go of them, and they walked over to the boy with the afro, jumping into his arms. As they walked out of the meeting room, Oscar lifted Emery so that they would be at eye level.

"You hear that?" he whispered. "We're going to meet DJ Octavio! In person!"

"Yeah! Together!" the Octarian enthused. "I can't wait!"

Oscar set Emery down on the ground, and the two walked into the main hallway, beds stacked up against the walls. The elite octolings filtered out of the room after him, his comrades merely observing them, memorized by their superiority. The bronze-skinned octoling then crawled into bed, exhausted from everything that occurred today. He had taken a glance at the clock as he was leaving the meeting room—it was close to their bedtime, and he could feel pain spike up in his head again, so he might as well go to sleep, anyways.

"Good night," he told the Tentakook, taking off his goggles.

"Good night." Emery waddled away, presumably to do their own thing. Oscar never was sure what they did in the middle of the night. Sometimes he thought they were subject to the same curfew the octolings were, but other times he ended up finding Emery stuck in a trash can when they weren't there the previous day. Regardless, he knew they had no bad intentions. He closed his eyes, ready to drift off to sleep.

He opened them again as he heard footsteps approach him. His orange eyes were met with boots, and looking up, he saw Angel, hands on his hips.

"So..." the boy with the curtain cut stated. "How did it go?"

"Good," he replied. Excited, he sat up. "Oh! I'm being promoted!"

"Promoted, huh?" Angel scratched the back of his head with a nervous smile. "In what way?"

"I'm being sent to DJ Octavio's very own wasabi supply unit."

His brother immediately gasped, mouth gaping. "DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit?" he repeated in disbelief. He slowly lowered his hand, stiffening. "That's...very high!"

"But I won't be alone," he assured him. "Emery's coming, too."

"That unit's so big!" Angel fretted. "What if you two get separated?"

"Relax, Angel, I'll be fine. Besides, I'll make new friends there too, won't I?"

"I...guess."

"See? Nothing to worry about." A smile on his face, Oscar lied down once more. "Good night, Angel."

The boy with the curtain cut reached a hand over to his other arm, clenching it. "...Good night." He walked away, and finally, Oscar could rest for the night. He closed his eyes, drifting away into sweet dreams.

He woke up earlier than usual. Once again, he was met with the face of his commander, standing over him. Though, he supposed she wouldn't be his commander for much longer. DJ Octavio would be his commander by the end of the day. Or maybe he had subordinates helping him run it?

Nonetheless, Oscar got up and put on his goggles. "Let's get going," she told him. "It'll take a while to get to DJ Octavio's lair."

"Right," he agreed, saluting. The elite octoling walked away and towards the doorway, where a light was shining. She disappeared, his comrades slowly funneling out. He looked towards the back of the building, where he saw Emery emerging. He crouched down to face them. "Ready?"

"Ready!" they exclaimed, doing a little jump.

He gestured for them to follow, and they started to amble to the exit. He took one last look at his surroundings. He would miss this place. It was where he started his career as an Octarian technician, and it was also where he made friends and met his brother for the first time. But in DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit, he would make new friends...right?

Coincidentally, his brother now stood in the doorway, and the two quickly made eye contact. Oscar walked up to him and looked up.

"Well," Angel started, crossing his arms, "you're leaving now."

"Yeah..." Oscar gave a small smile. "But it's to a better place, right? Maybe I'll be famous."

"Eh, don't yet your hopes up," the boy with the curtain cut brushed off. "You'd have to do something extraordinary to be famous."

"But the roller skates are extraordinary, aren't they?"

"I suppose so."

"See? I'll be famous for sure." The boy with the afro pumped a fist. "Oscar Margina... I can already see it."

"What about me?" Emery piped up. "Do I get to be in the history books?"

"Maybe," Angel responded. "We'll see." He crouched down and pat the Tentakook on the head. He stood back up, hands behind his back as he turned to face his younger brother. "Anyways, Oscar, I have something for you."

"Really? What?"

"Hold out your hand."

The younger brother extended his arm, palm facing up. The older brother removed his hand from behind him and placed something in the other's hand. He retreated his hand, and Oscar brought his own hand closer to look at the object he had just received.

He saw a simple necklace, consisting of a silver-and-magenta octopus charm with a hole in the middle, attached to a black piece of thread. His mouth fell open for a few moments as he stared at the necklace in awe. He lifted his head, eyes filled with wonder.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"A store," Angel replied. "I traded some power eggs for it."

Oscar gave a slight nod of his head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, put it on. I want to see how it looks on you."

The younger octoling fastened the necklace around his neck, and now the charm rested on top of his chest plate. The older octoling stared at it for a few moments before giving a thumbs up.

Angel's smile quickly fell as he cleared his throat and started, "Be careful out there, Oscar. It's only you and Emery now." He lifted his goggles up and placed his hands on Oscar's shoulders. Now, he stared into Angel's orange eyes. His lips started to turn downwards, eyes drooping. He leaned forward for a hug, catching Oscar off-guard. After a few moments, he hugged him back.

Some seconds passed, and they let go of each other. "Stay safe out there," he muttered, wiping a tear from his eye. He pulled down his goggles and stepped out of the way, letting Oscar and Emery pass. His commander was standing by a tractor, waiting to take the two Octarians out of the dome. She opened the door, allowing them to climb inside.

His unit had gathered outside of the building to see his departure. The elite octoling started up the car—a tractor much like the one Mila drove the day before—and the octolings below waved goodbye as they drove off. Oscar waved back before they were out of sight, and then he rested his hand on his chest, feeling his new necklace. Angel had gone out of his way to buy it for him, and for that, he was grateful.

"Thank you, Angel," he whispered, speaking so quietly that only he could hear. "I won't forget you."

They continued to drive, the artificial skies hanging above them glowing brighter and brighter. Today was a new day, a hopeful one. They entered the tunnels that would take them between domes, and soon enough, they entered a new dome. It seemed similar to his home dome at first, but on closer inspection, it was an entirely different city, with an entirely different structure. They drove deeper into the city, stopping at a parking lot, where his commander directed him to get out of the car.

"We're going to the surface," she explained. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Oscar gave a firm nod. He looked down at Emery, who was nodding as well.

"I've never been more ready!" they exclaimed.

"Then get ready." The elite octoling transformed into an octopus. The boy with the afro grabbed Emery and copied her, and a few seconds later, they were flying through the air, towards the top of the dome. The lid of the kettle bust open, allowing them to exit unharmed. The sunlight hit Oscar's bronze skin, bringing a warm, comforting sensation. He squinted, bringing a hand up to look at the floating object approaching them, illuminated by the sunlight. It lowered so that the trio could step on it, revealing a boss kettle on the top of it. His commander stepped in front of the boss kettle and opened it, steam hissing out of the spout. She turned into an octopus again and slipping in, prompting Oscar and Emery to follow.

Unlike the outside, DJ Octavio's lair didn't reflect the time of day at all. The panels displayed a dark sky spotted with dim stars. They arrived on a tentacle-shaped speaker, the lights on it glowing green. Lined up on it were several Octarians, of which he recognized none. The majority of Octarians were octolings, presumably present for different purposes. One octoling carried a cart of wrapped wasabi stalks. Another had her hair tentacles chopped off, four Octotroopers now following her around.

Whatever the reason for their arrival, he was sure it was meaningful.

"Hey," someone called. The trio looked over at the source of the voice, a middle-aged elite octoling with short hair and almond-colored skin. "Are you the new recruit for DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit?"

Oscar started to speak, but his commander held a hand up, silencing him. Clearing her throat, she questioned, "And who might that be?"

"Uh..." The other elite octoling pulled out a tablet, the device beeping as she pressed buttons on it. "Oscar Margina, born October 4th, 2000, and his Tentakook friend, Emery Bimac, born November 19th, 2013."

"That's them right there," she explained, pointing to the aforementioned Octarians.

"Oh!" She put away her tablet and bowed in front of them. "Then, I will take them away. Thank you."

"No problem." Waving one final goodbye, Commander Evie super-jumped out of the lair, leaving them alone with this new octoling.

Oscar turned to face her. "Apologies for not introducing myself. I am Delilah Kaurna, also known as Captain Delilah. I manage the sorting of units stationed here. Follow me."

They walked down the speaker, music blasting through the area. It was loud, but he liked it. A floating platform with neon blue lights on the edges hovered over to them. A propeller fan could be seen on one end of it. They stepped onto the platform, and Captain Delilah pulled out an Octo Shot, proceeding to shoot at the propeller fan. Magenta ink spun off the blades as they were lifted past the line, towards a giant, flying machine with two metal fists attached to it. Inside the machine were several wasabi stalks, turntables, and a giant octopus wearing a golden helmet.

DJ Octavio.

They stepped off at a platform near the machine, and Delilah cleared her throat. "Excuse me, leader."

The octopus stopped speaking to the octoling in front of him and climbed over to the end closest to the group, almost leaning out of it. "What?"

"Oscar Margina and Emery Bimac have arrived."

"Oscar Margina and Emery Bimac?"

"The two transfers requested by Yaki yesterday. Remember? She brought the roller skates over?"

"Oh, them. Show me."

Delilah stepped out of the way, allowing Oscar and Emery to step up. The bronze-skinned octoling straightened his posture, tense as he was placed under Octavio's scrutinizing green gaze. He gulped. What could he see in Oscar that Oscar himself could not?

Eventually, he climbed back into the machine and sighed. "I still gotta put together a meetin' to discuss da skates. Meanwhile. Delilah, bring Oscar to the assembly line. Emery..." He placed a tentacle on a disc and scratched it, causing a group of elite octolings to descend. "Go with 'em."

"Uh, um!" Emery jumped, running behind the boy. "They look scary!"

"We're not going to hurt you," assured one of the octolings. "Just come here, OK?"

They let out a small whimper. The octoling that had spoken sighed and walked over to them, picking them up and whispering things to them. Oscar looked at them as they were taking away. He spotted a tear fall from their face as the group of octolings hovered away on their floating platform.

He barely noticed Delilah's hand tugging his until she called out his name. He looked over at her and with a gasp, he saluted goodbye to DJ Octavio and quickly followed her. They hopped on another propeller lift, descending deeper into the lair. They quickly arrived at their next destination—a skinny platform containing a group of octolings hunched over workbenches, passing equipment from one another. Some machines were passing dragged along a conveyor belt, too. He spotted an empty spot between two octolings.

Delilah led him over to the empty seat and instructed him to sit. "This will be your main work area," she explained. "Inspect everything you get for peculiarities. If you spot something, fix it. If you don't know how to, ask someone. If you don't see something, pass it off to the next person."

"Huh?" Oscar blinked. "Don't I get to work on really cool projects or something? Like the roller skates?"

"The lower ranks-" His heart clenched at the words. "-are designed to maximize efficiency. Everyone here either shows potential...or they need to be rehabilitated. If you want to work on these 'big projects' you mentioned, you'll have to prove yourself. You will be called to discuss the roller skates, but that is all."

The boy with the afro examined the workers. None of them were elite octolings. Of course. He had been duped. What he thought was his big break was actually just an excuse to have him work something inane. It was just the same thing as he did in his old unit! Except now, he was alone, especially with how he was separated from Emery.

Biting his lip, he merely said, "I see." Disheartened, he sat down and took an Octo Shot from the octoling next to him.

"Get to work," Delilah instructed. "You'll get your break soon."

Her footsteps grew more distant, and now, Oscar continued to work, examining each and every machine, like he was told to do. Alone.

Some things just never change, it seems.

---

July 2015

Oscar hunched over his workbench, examining the roller he had been given. It was an odd weapon, he would have to admit. Yet, it also seemed like a powerful one. A weapon that can crush inklings on contact? It was genius!

He couldn't see any peculiarities in the roller, so he handed it off to the person next to him. A few minutes later, another weapon came to him. It, too, seemed intact. He handed it off once more.

Over the past few months, he had only been called to meetings regarding the roller skates a few times. While the upper ranks continued to work on prototypes and testing them out, consulting Oscar on occasion, he was stuck examining machines and weapons. It just wasn't fair! But he had to deal with it because that was how Octarian society worked. At least he had Emery to vent to.

"Oscar Margina," a voice then spoke from behind him.

He turned around to see Delilah, her arm wrapped around the arm of a fair-skinned octoling boy with a mohawk and a bandage around his left ear. The newcomer's lips were thinned, his stance rigid. The elite's other arm was bent, her hand on her hip.

"I have a task for you." She released her arm from the boy and pushed him towards Oscar. "This here is Giovanni Briareus. He was assigned here yesterday."

The boy with the afro raised an eyebrow. "What do you want me to do?"

"Simple. Teach him how everything works here. Be careful, though. He's a rowdy one." She pulled out a cream folder and handed it to him. "Here's his file. Read if it you want; it's not required. But you may be required to read it to others. It's best not to be surprised in these cases."

He nodded. "I will, thank you."

The elite octoling gave a thumbs-up. "Don't let us down." She walked away, the soles of her leather boots clacking against the metal platform he stood on. Oscar looked back over at Giovanni. He did not move a single inch, still in the same pose he was in.

"Don't be scared," he told him. "It's just like any other technician unit. Except a lot bigger. And we're sorted by rank." The bronze-skinned octoling opened the folder and skimmed it, reading out loud the last line. "'Assigned to DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit for rehabilitation.'"

"Re...habiliation?" the fair-skinned boy reiterated.

"Basically, you went out of line, and now we're training you to be a non-disruptive Octarian," he explained. "That's the case for a lot of octolings in here. The ones that actually work with DJ Octavio are in the higher ranks. You know...like Marina Ida. Or Kaia Hyomon."

"So what do we do in the lower ranks?" he then asked.

"Inspect things. Sometimes fix things. It may seem mundane, but being in DJ Octavio's proximity makes up for it."

"So... Like before," Giovanni grumbled, rubbing his shoulder.

Oscar shrugged. "What happened to your ear, anyways?"

"My ear?" He lifted a hand, brushing the bandages that wrapped around it with his fingers. "...It's embarrassing. I'm not telling you that."

He frowned. "Alright, alright." He lifted his hands and walked over to the long table where he worked at before. He grabbed a small vehicle—the one Octotroopers rode on—and handed it to Giovanni. "What do you think of this?"

The octoling with the mohawk examined it before shaking his head. "Seems normal."

"That's where you're wrong," he corrected. "You see this?" He grabbed the joystick and tugged it a little. It didn't budge. "It's dislocated, I'm pretty sure."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" he snapped.

"That's why you have to inspect everything carefully," Oscar explained. "Missing something like this would get you a scolding. But on something bigger, like a Great Octoweapon...you'll be splatted if you mess that up."

"Well, working on Octotrooper machines and Octo Shots is boring. I want to work on something bigger."

"You can't 'work on something bigger' if you don't know the basics." The bronze-skinned boy pushed the fair-skinned boy towards where the former was standing just ten minutes ago. "Work here. I'll be watching."

Giovanni muttered an insult before turning his attention to the silver counter. An octoling handed him a bomb. He probed it, causing it to blow up in his face. He staggered back, surprised. He spat some magenta ink out of his mouth and looked over at Oscar, scowling.

He merely shrugged. "Hey, I didn't know that was there."

"It happens sometimes," remarked the octoling on the other side of Giovanni. "Get over it."

The fair-skinned octoling resumed working. In the meanwhile, Oscar pulled up a stool and sat down at it, opening the file. A picture of Giovanni without his ear injury was in the corner of the first paper inside. Words sprawling across the rest of the page, he began reading it in detail.

'Giovanni Briareus. Gen 88 – Octoling technician. Member of DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit. Currently located in DJ Octavio's quarters. Birthday: December 5, 2000. Parents: Harvey Briareus and Millie Briareus. The youngest of seven siblings.

'CLASSIFIED. Age 6: Enrolled in the elementary training program in Area 2, Octo Valley. Age 12: Cited for disorderly conduct. Age 14: Graduated. Assigned to Wasabi Supply Unit 351 in Area 2 Dome 2. Same year: Cut ear on a rogue ride rail. Reassigned to DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit for rehabilitation.'

"Oscar?"

He was pulled from the text, back to reality. He lifted his head, mouth open in a slight gape. Giovanni now faced him, fists clenched around a long, black weapon with red accents. A charger.

"Can you look at this?"

"OK." The fair-skinned boy handed the charger to the bronze-skinned boy, the latter now examining it. He had only seen a few up close, as they were not commonly used by octoling troops. He ran a gloved hand across the bottom of the weapon, trying to feel for any defects. He ran a hand across the top, and then he set it down.

"Nothing wrong with it," Oscar announced.

"Nice." With a smirk, Giovanni handed it off to the next person. "When's our break?"

"A few hours from now."

The boy with the mohawk groaned. "Great..."

Time passed as Oscar continued to observe Giovanni. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as weapons, tools, and machines were handed to the newcomer, though the bronze-skinned octoling did have to deter him from passing off something without even looking at it a few times.

I didn't expect him to act so...normal, Oscar noted silently. From his file, I thought he would be causing trouble every single moment he gets.

Eventually, the bell chimed, and Oscar immediately grabbed Giovanni's hand, tugging it.

"It's our break," he informed. "Let's go."

"Finally," the other boy resounded. "That felt like forever."

"You get used to it. Now, let's eat!"

The two octoling boys walked down the stairs, towards a chamber where the Octarians located in DJ Octavio's proximity were served their lunch. Octarians of all kinds gathered here, no matter who they were or what their rank was, unless they were especially high-ranking. DJ Octavio never made an appearance here, instead having his own private feast with other Octarian officials. That was what the rumor was, anyways.

An Octobomber was serving lunch today, grabbing a ladle and scooping some sort of green sludge onto a Twintacle Octotrooper's tray. If one thing didn't change between the domes, it was the food.

Oscar and Giovanni got in line and grabbed some trays. After a few minutes of waiting, they reached the Octobomber, who proceeded to dump the sludge on their trays. The former grabbed an apple as well and returned to a bench with the latter.

"So, what do ya think it is?" the fair-skinned octoling asked him. "Peas or wasabi?"

"It smells spicy, so..." He prodded the sludge with a spoon. "Wasabi. I think it would be more obvious if it were peas."

"Yeah, you're right," he conceded. He turned his head towards the food, and grumbled, "Let's just eat this."

"Good idea."

Oscar took a bite of the sludge, the spice hitting his taste buds immediately. He exhaled at the heat, but he could handle it otherwise. Besides, with each bite he took, it would continue to decrease in hotness. It was just starting the meal that was the worst part.

Giovanni barely seemed to be affected by the wasabi at all, slowly taking large bites of it. As the pile of sludge grew smaller and smaller, they began to speak to each other once more.

"So, how old are you?" the fair-skinned boy asked.

"14, why?" he replied.

Giovanni blinked. "Huh." He cleared his throat and then inquired, "How long have you been here?"

"Since January."

"January?! Oh, never mind that; why are you here?"

"I..." Oscar looked down at his food. He didn't feel like he deserved to be in DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit—all he did was invent a pair of roller skates. So why would that land him in a unit like this one? Though, it was ultimately Yaki's decision that led him here. He wouldn't question her judgement. "They saw potential in me," he simply stated. "That's why."

"Potential, huh?" he repeated. "Yet you're just looking at things?"

The bronze-skinned octoling thinned his lips, his cheeks flushed. Giovanni was right: why would he be checking for inaccuracies instead of actually working on larger projects? Was it because he brought Emery with him?

It's only you and Emery now, Angel's voice rang in his mind. Stay safe out there.

But in reality, it was just him, wasn't it? They would get the roller skates working sooner or later, and then Emery would be sent to the frontlines. And he'll never see them again.

"Uh... Hello?" Giovanni's voice interjected, waving a hand in front of the other octoling's face. "Earth to Oscar?"

Oscar snapped his head back up. "Huh?! What?"

"You zoned out," he remarked.

He frowned. "Sorry."

They finished their lunches and threw it away. They continued talking, getting to know each other. It was nice, talking to someone his own age for once. Most of his acquaintances in the unit were older than him and talked about things he did not wish to hear. He even talked to Octotroopers and similar Octarians from time to time. Though their conversations were more innocuous, conversations with them quickly became dull. As they tend to skew younger, they tended to have less experiences to talk about. The few long-lived Octarians he did know did not want to talk to him very much.

After their break was up, it was back to work. The rest of the day proceeded similarly—Oscar would watch over Giovanni examining machines, stepping in when necessary. Thankfully, it rarely occurred. The stretch from lunch to dinner was the longest yet, exhausting octolings everywhere. The bell chimed once more at nightfall, and the fair-skinned boy let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms.

"It's finally over," he remarked. "What now?"

"We eat." The bronze-skinned boy stood up, clenching his fist. "Follow me!"

"Dinner? Yay."

The two octolings traveled through DJ Octavio's lair once more, to the same cafeteria they ate their lunch in. Of course, a different meal was being served this time, this one heartier than the last. He spotted some kind of raw fish in the back, which one of the chefs was sprinkling wasabi onto it and marinating it with a special sauce.

"Oh, this is going to be good!" Giovanni exclaimed, a little drool dripping from his wide-mouthed smile.

"Don't get too excited," Oscar huffed. "When they make it like this, it's too soggy half the time."

They got in line, and the Octobomber from earlier proceeded to serve them a plate of fish. Once again, the two boys walked to the bench they were sitting at earlier to eat them, though they had to pull up a table this time as well. Oscar took a bite out of the fish, and his prediction was correct—it was soggy.

"Eugh," the boy with the mohawk mumbled. "This tastes like rations."

"Who would've thought," the other boy deadpanned.

They ate their dinner and started walking back to the barracks. The barracks in DJ Octavio's lair were stationed much like the barracks in Oscar's old unit, except the hallway was much, much longer. Stairways were positioned every-so-often to go to different floors of the barracks, but the layout was to be expected. Lower ranks slept on the bottom floors, while the higher ranks slept on the top ones. The absolute top-ranking officials, like DJ Octavio, slept in luxury, having their own private homes. Not all of them lived in DJ Octavio's lair, but of course, the giant octopus himself did. No one knew where he slept, but he was ready to address the Octarians each and every morning.

Emery was sitting on Oscar's bed, the sheets already made. They had taken their helmet off, their singular eye watching octolings walk by. When they saw Oscar, their eye lit up, lips turning upward into a smile. However, upon sight of Giovanni, they quickly faltered.

"W-Who's that?" they asked.

"This is Giovanni Briareus," Oscar introduced the boy next to him.

"Hi," he interjected.

"I'm supposed to watch over him, starting today," the bronze-skinned octoling continued. "He'll be sleeping here, I think."

"Yeah, that sounds 'bout right," the fair-skinned octoling mused.

"Oh..." Emery frowned. "OK."

"Don't worry about it," he assured them. "He doesn't bite. I don't think." Putting his hands on his hips, he then proclaimed, "Well, I'll show you to the..." He turned around to see that Giovanni had left his side. "...Changing room."

The boy with the afro looked around to see that Giovanni was already walking to the stairwell, disappearing moments later. He ran after him.

"Wait! Do you know where you're going?" he called.

Giovanni paused, hands over the handle to the changing room. "Yeah," he replied, looking over his shoulder. "The changing room. This is it, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But don't leave without me next time! I'm supposed to watch over you, remember?"

The fair-skinned octoling merely grumbled and entered the room. They took showers and changed into sleepwear. Oscar put his goggles, chest plate, and boots into his locker, and Giovanni did the same. Oscar took out Giovanni's file as well, staring at it for a few moments before putting it into his locker as well. The boy with the mohawk lifted his arms up, stretching. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were a nice shade of green—not the lime green that was the color of the sclera of most Octarians, but a soft green, like the color of ferns.

Giovanni turned around and blinked. "Oscar...?" He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Huh?" The bronze-skinned boy looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry." He took a deep breath and met his eyes again. "Let's go to sleep."

"OK."

The two boys left the changing room, back to Oscar's bed. Emery rolled out of the way to let them lie down. He threw the tacky blanket over him and grabbed the Tentakook, putting them between him and Giovanni.

"Good night," he whispered to them.

"Good night." They positioned themself on the empty space of Oscar's pillow. The boy with the afro closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

---

A few days later, the break bell chimed earlier than expected.

"Everyone!" spoke DJ Octavio's voice over an intercom. "Report to Sector 5, now!"

Sector 5? Oscar wondered. What could he want...?

He and Giovanni rose from their seats, turning into octopi and super-jumping over to the sector. The sector consisted of several skinny platforms connected by ink rails, though some additional floating platforms had been brought in to house the multitude of Octarians that lived within DJ Octavio's lair. They managed to land on a platform close to DJ Octavio, so that they could see him in all his glory. He was in the Octobot King, one of its robotic fists holding...an old man.

The person in question was unlike any he had ever seen before. Amber eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, and a cream beard covered the lower half of his face. His ears were long, skinny, and pointed, and only adding to his unusual appearance, two fat tentacles poked out of the blue hat he wore. He was wearing some kind of tattered clothing, though Oscar couldn't see much of it, as his arms and legs were bound together with rope.

This was an inkling, he was sure of it. No Octarian looked like him.

"Hey! Get me out of here!" the old man complained in rough Octarian.

"This is Craig Cuttlefish, an inkling who fought against us in the Great Turf War," DJ Octavio introduced him. Waves of shock went over the crowd, accompanied by some murmuring. "Shut up!" he commanded them, and everyone went silent. "He'll be staying with us starting today."

He plopped down the old inkling on a platform with a pole on it. Some octolings ran over to retie him to the pole, in which he continued to complain.

"You landlubber!" he shouted. "Inkopolis will never fall to you!"

"We already got the Great Zapfish," Octavio chorused. "It's only a matter of time now!" The Octarians observing laughed, Oscar and Giovanni included. Cuttlefish scowled, saying nothing more. "Dismissed!" the giant octopus then commanded.

The two octoling boys turned around, ready to super-jump back to their work area. "Hey, Oscar," Giovanni started, "have you heard of the Dreaded?"

"The Dreaded? Of course I have, why wouldn't I?" Oscar goaded.

He's heard stories of the Dreaded from the elite octolings he worked with. Ever since June began, a female inkling had been tearing through the Octarian domes, splatting Octarians left-and-right and stealing the zapfish the domes now contained. She showed no mercy as she went down her warpath, with her cold green gaze being the last thing many Octarians see.

She had to be stopped, no matter what. That was something everyone could agree on.

"What if she comes here?" he worried. "Then what will we do?"

"Don't be silly." Oscar crossed his arms. "The octolings guarding the domes are some of the best soldiers around. If we placed some elites in there, she's bound to be stopped by then."

"She's already tore through one. What if she tears through the others?"

"Then we're screwed. But I wouldn't worry about it."

Giovanni sighed. "Back to work, then."

"Right."

The two transformed, super-jumping down to their previous work area. They had nothing to worry about, Oscar kept telling himself. If he could focus on now and get the roller skates approved, then maybe he would finally get promoted, and he would become someone to be recognized.

Besides, he was starting to find Giovanni cute, too. He wouldn't mind dating him at all. Maybe they could live together after everything has passed, happily.

Things were finally looking up, it seemed.

---

August 2015

Another day passed, another day of doing relatively nothing. Oscar merely watched as Giovanni examined the weapons, making adjustments when necessary. Shortly after they returned from their lunch break, he leaned back in the chair he had started bringing up to the assembly line, putting his arms behind his head.

"You're getting good at this," he complemented.

Giovanni looked over his shoulder, keeping a poker face for a few seconds before smiling. "Thanks."

Oscar felt his heart skip a beat at the smile. "Y-You're welcome!" he found himself stuttering out.

The fair-skinned boy returned to his work, and the bronze-skinned octoling took a few deep breaths, calming himself down. He was going to confess his love to Giovanni today, no matter what. He had talked it over with his coworkers several times, and all of them shared similar advice—just go confess. But first, break time would have to come. It would be too awkward to confess in the middle of the work day.

The hours passed, and so did dinner. After they threw away their trash, Oscar asked Giovanni if they wanted to watch the old inkling, whatever his name was. He agreed, and the two super-jumped over to Sector 5, where he resided. As the curfew was less strict here, they were relatively free to do whatever they wanted for the next few hours. A lot of their nighttime activities involved listening to the old man ramble. He didn't really care what he had to say, but it was funny at times.

They stood near the end of the platform, across from the old man.

"It's you whippersnappers again," he remarked. "You really like stopping by here, don't you?"

"Yeah, because it's fun," Giovanni snarked.

"Actually, Giovanni..." Oscar spoke up, heart pounding. It was time. There was no going back now! "I have something to tell you."

The boy with the mohawk turned around. "What?"

"I..." He gulped. "I like you." Within an instant, he clasped one of Giovanni's hands with both of his. "Will you be my boyfriend?" he proposed with a smile, orange eyes sparkling.

The fair-skinned octoling merely frowned and removed his hand. "Sorry," he began, "I'm not interested."

His heart shattered in two. Face falling, he lowered his hands. "Oh..." He turned around, thinning his lips. His plan was ruined. Of course Giovanni didn't like him, what was he thinking? They were just friends. And now he knew for sure that they would stay that way.

All of a sudden, the platform rumbled, nearly throwing Oscar off his feet. Giovanni caught him, and they looked up. The Octobot King turned around, causing the octolings standing on the platform in front of it to fall off. In the distance, the spawn point started to glow orange, and a strange creature emerged from it, soon taking the form of a humanoid wearing some sort of suit. She shook her arms, ink falling off. With a determined expression, she stepped off of the spawn point, blue lights trailing behind her.

The Dreaded.

"Stay back, Agent 3!" the old inkling in front of them called out. "It's a trap!"

After a brief pause, she countered, "I'm not leaving you behind, Cap'n. I'm saving you, no matter what!"

The inkling he had called Agent 3 didn't falter, taking a few steps closer to the Great Zapfish that rested not far from her. The Octobot King flew over to it, beaming up the creature and sucking it inside. It lowered, and DJ Octavio's fanfare began to blare. Laughing, he placed his wasabi sticks on his turn tables and began to perform his hit song.

"I'ma remix your face, Dreaded!" the giant octopus declared.

"Dreaded?" she puzzled upon hearing his words. "I... No..."

DJ Octavio immediately launched some missiles at her, but she merely jumped out of the way, creating some magenta puddles of ink where the missiles landed.

Regaining his composure, Oscar told Giovanni, "We should get out of here," tugging his hand. "Go to sleep or something. And forget this ever happened."

"What, no way!" he protested, not even looking back at him. "The fight's just getting started!"

"Can we at least get a better view?" he proposed instead. He might as well keep up their friendship.

"A better view..." The fair-skinned boy stood up, placing a hand on his chin as he scanned the area. "Oh! What about down there?" He pointed to one of the speakers, which was crowded with Octarians.

"That works," the bronze-skinned boy said. Though I would've been fine with anywhere. A smile crept on his face as he imagined spending time with Giovanni, holding hands like boyfriends would do. He bit his tongue to rid himself of the thought. He already rejected me, he reminded himself with a pang of sorrow. No use thinking about it.

"Come on, then. Let's go!" Giovanni turned into an octopus, preparing to super-jump. Oscar quickly followed suit, and the two octolings flew through the lair, landing in the middle of the crowd. Oscar ended up crashing into an Octotrooper, who fell on their back. He apologized and helped them up. Giovanni, on the other hand, had landed on an octoling, who proceeded to scold him. She flipped him off before walking away.

"Let's get closer," Oscar whispered to him. "You wanted a better view, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he grumbled. "Let's just try to get through the crowd."

They pushed through the crowd, slowly meandering their way through. Eventually, the area opened up, and standing at the edge of the platform were two octoling girls, one with poufy hair and fair skin, and one with curly hair and dark skin.

Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but Giovanni was already halfway to them, clenching a fist. The bronze-skinned boy ran after him, worried.

Did that bother him so much? he tried to reason with himself. Sometimes I just can't understand him.

The fair-skinned octoling had turned around, tapping the shoulder of her shorter friend to get her attention.

Crossing his arms, Giovanni demanded, "What are you doing?"

"I was watching the battle, what are you doing?" the taller girl fired back.

"We wanted a better look," Oscar replied. "Doesn't everyone?"

"How crowded is it back there?" inquired the dark-skinned girl.

"Quite crowded," he informed her. "It's a miracle we could get here."

Giovanni started to speak, but he was interrupted when DJ Octavio let out a gargled cry, snapping their attention to the Octobot King. The machine spun around, and standing not far from him was...the Dreaded, her eyebrows raised with amusement.

"Slimy little hipster!" he cursed, shaking a tentacle at her. He flew away, but the long-haired inkling stepped on a launchpad and flew after him. Alarmed, the group of octolings started running to the tapered end of the tentacle-speaker, wishing for a better look.

"I can't believe it!" cried out the poufy-haired octoling. "The Dreaded even tears through DJ Octavio!"

"Apparently she is known as Agent 3 to inklingkind," Oscar commented.

"What?" The curly-haired octoling cocked her head, surprised. "'Agent 3?'"

"That's what the old man said," he affirmed, placing a hand on his chest. He tried feeling around for the necklace Angel had given him all those months ago, but it wasn't there. He quickly remembered he had left in it the barracks. Emery would find it sooner or later. He explained further, "Giovanni and I are part of DJ Octavio's personal wasabi supply unit, so we watch him on our breaks."

"He's either insulting Octavio or yapping about the other members of the Squidbeak Splatoon most of the time," the boy with the mohawk interjected.

Smirking, Oscar continued, "We assumed the 'Agent 3' he mentioned referred to the Dreaded. And as soon as the Dreaded came, it turns out we were right all along."

"So the Dreaded's real name is Agent 3?" the dark-skinned girl concluded. "I don't know if that's cool or lame."

"It's lame," the fair-skinned girl growled. "It makes her seem less scary than she actually is." She crossed her arms, looking off to the side.

"It's...cool," Giovanni muttered, lips turning upwards in a grin. "I like the way she fights."

"Despite being the enemy?" the rude octoling puzzled. "You're weird."

"Ooh, do you have a crush on her?" the jovial octoling teased.

"No!" the boy with the mohawk deflected. "Just because I admire her doesn't mean I like her!"

Maybe you do, Oscar thought solemnly. Even though you know she's unobtainable.

The dark-skinned octoling giggled. "So... What's your name?"

"My name? It's Giovanni Briareus," Giovanni introduced himself. "I thought you would've picked up on my first name already."

"Yeah, I said his name," the bronze-skinned boy agreed. "Anyways, my name is Oscar Margina."

"Nice! I'm Yvonne Megale," chirped the curly-haired girl.

"And I'm Iris Thaumo," said the poufy-haired girl, giving a small wave. Before their conversation could continue any further, DJ Octavio let out another cry. Oscar looked past the girls to see the Octobot King spinning around more.

"You can't handle my spicy wasabi beats!" the giant octopus boasted as soon as he regained his grip. He flew away, the music increasing in intensity. The Dreaded super-jumped after him, much to Oscar's surprise.

I hope he'll beat her, he proclaimed silently. But we're going to have to do a lot of work on the Octobot King later...

Iris, on the other hand, was furious. "That inkling!" she roared, lips drawing back. "I hope she burns for all that she's done!"

Oscar winced. "That's a little harsh, isn't it?"

"Has she splatted your friends?" the poufy-haired girl questioned, whipping around to face him and Giovanni. "Has your life been threatened by her? I can never forgive her for what she's done! I will never let the opportunity to splat her slip by me ever again!"

"No..." he muttered weakly.

"Exactly." Iris turned her back on them. "DJ Octavio. Better. Win," she gritted through her teeth.

Oscar turned his attention to DJ Octavio and Agent 3. They continued to fight, magenta and orange ink flying between them. It was close—when he thought the Dreaded would splat, she didn't. A Killer Wail managed to pierce through the inkling, splatting her. Giovanni gasped, but he quickly changed his demeanor, cheering DJ Octavio's name again, like he should. Oscar pumped a fist as well. But Agent 3 came back, more determined than ever. Eventually, the Octobot King started spinning around again, and DJ Octavio only become more upset.

"Do you even know who you're messin' with?!" he barked, his glare narrowing.

The inkling didn't respond, once again super-jumping after him. The battle only became more and more intense, and Giovanni seemed like he was going to fall off the speaker. Oscar pulled him back—it was a long way down. Meanwhile, Agent 3 continued to maneuver her way through various obstacles, narrowly dodging Killer Wails and avoiding the fire of Octarian troops DJ Octavio had summoned. At last, she landed another blow on DJ Octavio, and the music he was playing fizzled out.

Octavio growled and wiped the ink off of him. "How dare you!" he snapped, flying back. However, his eyes quickly raised with alarm as a radio began to crackle, and a new song began to play. Two inklings were singing, their voices accompanied by a pop beat. "What's this?" he puzzled. "Where mah beats?!"

"Agent 3? Can you hear our song?" a garbled voice suddenly spoke through the speakers.

"You've got it upside down!" chastised another voice.

"'Our song?' Isn't this by the Squid Sisters?" Agent 3 queried. "But yeah, I can hear it."

"Uh..." The second voice trailed off.

"Huh? What's this?!" the old inkling called from where Giovanni and Oscar were previously standing. The bronze-skinned octoling glanced over at him. He broke free from the ropes binding him and started dancing. "That heavenly melody... It's the one and only Squid Sisters!"

"Don't you ever worry your granddaughters like that again!" the first voice scolded him, her voice now clear.

"Agent 3! Take care of Gramps for us, 'kay?" the second voice then requested.

"I'm confused..." the Dreaded remarked, lowering her weapon and scratching her head.

"We'll explain later," she added.

"Final push! Chaaarge!" the first voice exclaimed.

"Oh! Right!" On the launchpad, the inkling turned into a squid and flew through the air, towards DJ Octavio. Oscar's eyes grew wide with wonder, watching as orange ink trailed behind her, spinning her weapon in her hand as she ran towards the Octobot King.

Something was different now. The song now playing seemed to have a hidden meaning—freedom, love, fun... Things that weren't present in Octarian society. He was forced to undergo the same routine every day. His ability to love and settle down with people was severely limited. His job wasn't fun at all...

Those were flaws in Octarian society, he realized.

And he had no place here, if he wanted freedom, love, and fun. He had to leave.

"This song..." he murmured, taking off his goggles. The lilac glow in them faded. No longer was he looking through rose-tinted lens. "It really is heavenly."

"Calamari Inkantation," Giovanni then whispered.

"What?" Yvonne spoke up. They turned to look at the fair-skinned boy.

"Calamari Inkantation; that's the title," he repeated himself. "I don't know how I know it. It's like a long-lost memory came back to my brain."

"I..." Iris looked down for a few moments, shuffling her feet, before meeting Giovanni's eyes again. "You're right." Oscar murmured in agreement. Those words popped in his head, too. It was fitting title, he mused.

The bronze-skinned octoling's body started to groove to the beat, feet shuffling back and forth as the heavenly melody rang through the arena. Iris started laughing, a smile breaking out on her face.

"We need to leave," he concluded, "but I want to hear this song through first."

"Same," Yvonne agreed. "I can't believe everything I thought was wrong..."

The four octolings continued to dance, enjoying the song. This...was fun! Watching DJ Octavio and Agent 3 battle it out, he now had hope that the latter would win, allowing him a chance to escape. That turned out to be the case as one of his bombs rammed into the Octobot King, causing the giant octopus to fall out, swinging his limbs. The long-haired inkling aimed her shooter at him and covered him in orange ink, sending him flying back into the machine. It started to spin around and swell, orange lights glowing from it. A few seconds later, it exploded, sending orange ink everywhere. Though no one splatted, the ink had gotten onto his face. Oscar wiped off the ink to see what was left behind.

DJ Octavio was unconscious, and the Great Zapfish was free. The top of the lair opened, the creature staring into Agent 3's eyes for a few seconds before flying out. A ladder then dropped in, allowing the inklings to climb up it, bringing the giant octopus with them.

Giovanni snatched Oscar's goggles and threw both it and his own into the abyss. "Don't need those anymore."

"We need to get out of here before more elite octolings come to see what happened," Iris then declared.

And then, chaos arrived.

Octolings upon octolings started to pile on top of each other, trying to escape through the small hole on the top of the floating object that housed DJ Octavio's lair. Some Octarians were being knocked off, falling down into the abyss. Other Octarians, primarily octolings, hid under debris, waiting for the storm to pass. Yvonne immediately dashed away, joining the majority of octolings in trying to escape.

"There's another way out," Giovanni informed. "It's meant for emergencies, but this is enough of an emergency."

The emergency exit. Oscar went down there with Emery sometimes when they needed a place to talk. He brought Giovanni down there a few times, too.

"Hey, I've been here longer than you," Oscar pointed out. "I know it better."

"Take me to the emergency exit," Iris interjected. "I don't care; just get me out of here."

"We'll all get out of here," declared the fair-skinned boy. "I'll make sure of it."

"What about Yvonne?" the boy with the afro asked his friend.

"She left our group; that isn't important." Giovanni turned into an octopus, preparing to super-jump. "Follow me."

Jumping from platform to platform, they eventually reached the bottommost area, where they ran over to the wall. The boy with the mohawk pressed on it, and a panel swung open, revealing the night sky outside.

"You can thank me later," Giovanni commented, smirking. "Now, go."

"You first," Oscar instructed Iris, stepping aside to bow.

"Why not you two? You led me here," the poufy-haired girl queried.

"It's ladies first, isn't it?"

She looked down at the exit before looking back at them, her mouth hanging open. "Uh..."

"What are you waiting for?" the green-eyed octoling scolded, his patience growing thin. "Go!"

Oscar's head perked up as he heard footsteps approach them. Turning around, a wave of octolings was rushing towards them, wishing to exit DJ Octavio's lair as well. They must've followed us! he realized with alarm.

"Behind you!" he gasped.

"What?" The boy with the mohawk turned around, and with a startled cry, he immediately turned to face Oscar and Iris again and pushed them out with a sudden harshness. Within seconds, he was hurtling down, watching as octolings he didn't know amassed on his friend, squishing him.

"Giovanni!" he cried, reaching out a hand for him. He flew further down, and no longer could he see his green gaze. He was gone. Face scrunching up with despair, he retracted his arm and looked at the palm of his hand. "Why did he do that?"

"Well, thanks to him, we're gonna go splat on the ground," Iris complained, seemingly unfazed. "If only we had something to super-jump on..."

His orange eyes examined the area. "I don't see anything nearby."

As he continued to search, Iris suddenly shouted out, "Use me!"

"What?!" His head swung around to look into her indigo eyes. Is she crazy? She'll die!

"I was supposed to be executed," the poufy-haired octoling explained with a heavy expression. "I deserve to be down there..."

"You're gonna throw away your second chance?" Oscar puzzled. "I would take it if I were you."

"A second chance..." She paused, and for a moment, he thought she would change her mind.

But she said nothing. "Well, guess I'll use you, then."

If that's the fate you want, then I'll take my chance to leave.

He grabbed Iris and pulled her towards him, turning into an octopus and positioning himself on her chest. Pressure building up inside him, he soon leaped off of the octoling's chest, magenta ink trailing behind him. There was no going back now. He creased over the octopus-shaped rock formation, ink dispersing through the night sky. At last, he transformed back into his kid form, seeing the ground grow closer and closer. He landed on the grass and stumbled, rolling down the hill. He gritted his teeth as the grass seemed to burn him, chafing his skin. Soon, he came to a stop, and he stood up, rubbing his head.

He looked behind him. He did it. He was out of Octo Valley. But his journey wasn't over yet.

He lumbered towards a source of light in the distance—not Inkopolis, but something else. He eventually reached a wooden stall connected to similar structures like it. A small lantern was hung on a hook hammered to the wall, casting a golden glow across the stalls.

It wasn't ideal, but he had to stop here. He was too tired to go elsewhere, and his wounds had yet to heal. If only he had a weapon, then maybe he could ink himself a small puddle to heal in. He climbed on the bench and put his hands on his stomach, closing his eyes.

When Oscar fell asleep that night, he had a dream.

He was floating in some sort of liquid. At one moment, it seemed to be green, but the next, it seemed to be purple. Bubbles swirled around him, like a whirlpool threatening to swallow him whole. He only felt a pair of shorts on his body and...something else.

Around his neck was something heavy—literally. His orange eyes drifted down to the object. It was the octopus charm on the necklace Angel gave him all those months ago, except much bigger. The silver took on a sickly green casting, while the magenta outline only seemed to become more purple. The hole in the center was big enough that it bounced off his neck, but it was small enough that he could not pull his head through it. He grabbed it and tried twisting it off of him, to no avail.

His throat closing tighter, he opened his mouth to scream for help, but no sound came out. A mere cluster of bubbles escaped his lips. He struggled some more, but the charm wouldn't budge. He was trapped.

He felt himself sinking towards the bottom. He flailed his limbs, knowledge on how to transform into an octopus escaping him. It seemed like instinct to transform and slip out of this prison, but something was preventing him.

Strength ebbing, the light that pierced the depths of this liquid seemed to fade, Oscar's vision getting narrower and narrower. From underneath him, magenta tentacles writhed, wrapping itself around him. Soon, he could only see a green cross-shaped mark on one tentacle. The same mark on DJ Octavio's tentacle, and the tentacles that controlled the Great Octoweapons.

An ancient octopus with glowing orange eyes descended from above, swimming around him.

"You don't belong in Inkopolis," snarled Angel's voice. "You belong with us."

"No!" Oscar yelled, his scream finally coming through. "The Calamari Inkantation showed me the army is no place for me!"

'Angel' laughed, caressing the octoling's cheek with his arm. "You'll never escape. Not after you invented those roller skates. Nothing is the same anymore, thanks to you."

Oscar gulped, now finding himself unable to speak. The octopus's arm slithered off of him, and he continued to swim around him as he was dragged further down towards the abyss.

"Besides, you have friends back at home," 'Angel' remarked. "You have none in Inkopolis." The octopus shrugged. "But, I don't know. Maybe your friends will be angry at you now that you ran away. You'll make up. Inklings will kill you the moment they find out you're an octoling."

The octoling said nothing as he was dragged further away, the ancient octopus now merely hovering over him. As his vision faded to black, he heard Angel yell:

"You can't deny what you are, Oscar Margina! You'll always be part of the Octarian army!"

Oscar woke up in a cold sweat, eyes wide. He rolled over on his back, looking up at the canopy that shielded him from the rain. It appeared to be damp, but nothing more. He rose from the ground and looked around. He heard some yelling in the distance, and a sea anemone proceeded to walk out of a nearby barn, prodding a sea horse with her pitchfork. It whinnied as it trotted along, the fin on its hind wavering. Seeing as they were walking in his general direction, the bronze-skinned octoling jumped over the wooden wall and ran away, boots stomping in the mud.

In the distance, he could see the two towers of Inkopolis poking out of the horizon. He smiled, eyes growing brighter. Only a little further, and he could rest. He could hardly wait!

And after he got to Inkopolis, his new life could finally begin.

And he would never serve the Octarian army ever again. He promised.

---

Present Day

"Who's Angel?"

Oscar lifted his head, his hands paused over the coffee machine. When did he mention his brother?

He looked over his shoulder to see Roy with arms crossed. "What are you meaning?" the bronze-skinned octoling asked him.

"You were muttering things, and I heard a few names," the tan-skinned inkling explained. "Angel, Emery, Mila, Giovanni... Giovanni is probably our Giovanni, but what about the other three? Who are they?"

Heat flooding his cheeks, Oscar returned his attention to making the next brew. "Please forget it," he told Roy. "They are not important."

"Our shift is over now, by the way," the inkling pointed out.

"It is?" he questioned, looking over his shoulder again.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"I see." He called over one of his coworkers to take over the coffee machine and walked towards the back room, where he took off his apron, hanging it up on the coat rack. Roy had followed him, putting up his apron next to Oscar's. The red-haired inkling grabbed his varsity jacket and put it back on, zipping it up.

"Let's go," Roy announced.

The orange-haired octoling nodded, and the boys walked out of Starfish Drinks together. They soon arrived in Inkopolis Square, where Oscar remembered his promise to do league battles with Peyton.

"Hey," he spoke up, lightly punching Roy in the shoulder. "May I be talking to you after the rotation?"

The inkling blinked. "Uh... OK. When does the rotation end?"

"It changed recently, so in two hours," he informed him.

"Two hours..." Roy pondered, and then he shrugged. "I'll go do some ranked battles, then. See you later."

"Bye."

The tan-skinned inkling ran off, disappearing into the Deca Tower. Oscar walked towards the tower as well, standing outside the entrance. He pulled out his phone and texted Peyton that he was at the tower. A heavy feeling started to settle in his stomach as he hit the send button. He had a plan to ask out Roy after the rotation. But...where would he go? How would he approach it? He already told the inkling boy to meet him later, but that was as far as he had planned.

Octa Prisma was already aware of his crush on Roy, but they promised not to clue him in that he liked him. He assumed the same was for his inkling friend—he got flustered easily, he grew nervous around him, and he even started to do Salmon Runs in an attempt to spend more time with him. He was certain he would say yes, but not if there wasn't a plan.

Yvonne claimed she was a relationship expert when he had first told everyone, though she had never dated anyone, as far as he was aware. But it wouldn't hurt asking her...right?

He then texted the dark-skinned octoling on good places to go on a date. She immediately responded with a jest, asking if he had finally asked out Roy. Frowning, he replied no and explained that he was planning to ask him out later. A few minutes later, she sent him an article on the best dating spots. His finger hovered over the link when he heard someone clear her throat. He looked up to see Peyton standing in front of him.

"You ready?" she asked, Tri-slosher in hand.

He pulled out his Inkbrush and nodded. "Yes."

"Let's go."

The two octolings entered the lobby, worming their way towards the elevators that would take them to a league battle. The mode was Clam Blitz at the moment—Peyton's favorite mode. It also happened to be the mode Oscar was worst at. The pushes he made to put clams in the basket were largely unsuccessful, even after trying a method he saw on SplatTube where he, as a brush, would run up to the basket, throw a power clam in, and run back out of enemy territory. He splatted almost every time he tried it.

Nonetheless, Peyton's affinity for the ranked mode led them to success. Throughout the rotation, they won most of their matches and got a high league power by the end as a result. 1927, to be specific—something that impressed him. He took a picture of their standings and sent it to the Octa Prisma group chat.

'That'll show them!' read Giovanni's response.

'Show who?' texted Peyton.

'The inklings!'

Oscar's eyes trailed over at the purple-haired octoling, who was scowling. She texted, 'We just did good. That's all.' He could just imagine Giovanni groaning at the response.

"I gotta go," he told the pale-skinned girl. "See ya."

Peyton raised an arm and waved. "Bye."

He walked out of the Deca Tower, pulling up the article Yvonne had sent him earlier and reading. The ruins of Bluefin Depot, Snapper Canal, Port Mackerel...

Port Mackerel seemed like a good place. Maybe he could talk about the machinery there with Roy. Or they could just stare up at the stars while they shared some snacks. That would work, too.

He put his phone away and started searching for Roy. He heard the jingle of Inkopolis News, and he turned around, looking up at the giant screen while Pearl and Marina announced the new rotation. It would be their last live announcement for the day, as the nighttime announcements were typically prerecorded. Unless it was a Splatfest, of course.

Shortly after it ended, he heard someone calling his name, and he turned around to see Roy emerging from the tower. He pulled down his skull bandana, a smile on his face. From his own experience, he didn't pull it down often, given that he was even wearing it. Usually, he only pulled it down around his friends...and him.

"Hey, Oscar!" he exclaimed, bouncing to the bronze-skinned boy's side. "How was league?"

"Great," he answered. "I got a high league power. Peyton was not getting excited about it, though. She only say 'good,' and we parted ways."

"High league power? Like, how high?"

"1927."

"Wow."

"I know. I have improving much since the Deca Tournament."

"I could guess."

A silence settled between them as they began to walk towards the parking lot near Inkopolis Square. The sky getting darker, Oscar's chance to ask Roy out was slipping away. He had to act, now, or else it would be too late. He wouldn't have planned it for nothing, after all.

In front of Grizzco's, the bronze-skinned octoling tugged on the inkling's sleeve, their trek coming to a pause. "Hey," he muttered as his blush started spread across his face. "Can I ask you something?"

The tan-skinned inkling turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Heart pounding, Oscar struggled to find the words. He stared into Roy's red eyes, feeling the irritation starting to grow within him as his brows started to furrow. He feared that if he didn't speak now, the red-haired boy would punt him across the city.

"Roy..." he started, gulping. "Will you go to Port Mackerel with me?"

"Eh?!" Roy's face became tinged with red, mouth gaping. "P-Port Mackerel?"

"Did I misspeak?" Oscar asked, deflated.

"I-I... No!" Roy turned around. "I'm not going with you!" A few moments later, he sprinted away, much to the octoling's dismay.

"Oh..." The orange-haired boy rubbed his arm. So he just gets flustered easily, he realized with disappointment.

Oscar lifted his head, looking up towards the night sky—the real sky. I'll just go myself.

He started traveling the streets of Inkopolis, towards the direction of the sea. The smell of salt became stronger and stronger as he loomed closer. Giant cranes came into view, looming over the tight corridors formed by the piling of crates and boxes. Oscar turned into an octopus and super-jumped to the top of one of the crates, one overlooking the ocean. He laid down on his back, staring up towards the stars. He took out a piece of chocolate and unwrapped it, popping the sweet into his mouth. It was meant for Roy, but it didn't matter; it was more food for him in the end.

Roy didn't like him back. So what? He had to move on from it. It was the same as when Giovanni rejected him, back when they were still serving Octavio, or to anyone else he's ever confessed to.

But, it still felt like the entire world was crushing him. He genuinely thought that Roy liked him back, he did. Judging by his reaction to Oscar asking him out, he didn't. His chest heavy, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked down towards the ground. It was so far, reminding him of the abyss that plagued the bottoms of the domes he once lived in.

A small red light took him aback. It traveled the corridors like it was the will o' the wisp, wishing to guide someone. Slowly, the bronze-skinned octoling climbed down the crates, towards the red light. Was it a trick of his eyes? He hoped that wasn't the case, else his trip would be for nothing, his energy wasted. There was only one way to find out.

He arrived at the ground level of Port Mackerel, right in front of the light. He met the light at eye level, its wearer illuminated by the moonlight. Magenta hair styled into a curtain cut, reaching his chin. His ears were rounded, and his eyes were obscured by a pair of black shades. The chest plate he wore was especially shiny, wrapping around one shoulder. In one gloved hand, he held some plastic toys, and in the other, he held a broken cellphone.

Oscar took a step back, eyes wide with fear. He knew this person.

"Oscar," muttered Angel. "Is that really you?"

They were about the same height now, though the older brother was more toned than the younger brother. Lean and muscular—that was how he would describe Angel now. Yet, something was off. He could feel it. And if he was in uniform, then that could only spell trouble for him.

"Y-Yes..." he found himself saying.

The older octoling's eyebrows lifted. "It's been three years!" he exclaimed. "Three years since you went missing!"

"Missing?" He blinked. "Is that really what they think?"

Angel gave a slight nod. "But now that I found you, you can finally come home!"

"Huh? Home?!" he squeaked. "But this is my home!"

"Don't be silly," his brother chastised him. "Inkopolis has no place for Octarians. If they found out the truth of what you are, you'd be splatted right there and then."

Oscar clenched a fist. "That's not true," he protested, tears stinging his eyes. "That's not true."

"Have you forgotten the Great Turf War?! The inklings drove us underground! They wouldn't hesitate to do it again." Angel threw his belongings aside and leaped for Oscar. The younger boy jumped back, causing the older boy to stumble.

"How do you know?" he demanded. "The Great Turf War was a hundred years ago! The world has changed, and so have inklings. Octavio's just dragging out a conflict that doesn't exist! We can be free! Just let me help you!"

The octoling with the curtain cut growled. "How dare you speak of DJ Octavio that way!" he barked. "The inklings are brainwashing you, aren't they?" Angel took a few steps closer, and Oscar took a few steps back, bumping into a wall. He looked behind him. There was no way out, not unless he super-jumped or pushed past his brother.

"No, Octavio's brainwashing you," Oscar defended. "I've heard the Calamari Inkantation, songs of freedom, fun, and love. Things we don't have in Octo Valley."

Angel scoffed. "Have you forgotten our time together?!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Do you know how much I've missed you? And how devastated I was to learn of your betrayal?" He got closer to Oscar, grabbing his arm. The boy with the afro squirmed to get out of his grasp. "You ruined me, Oscar Margina. You could've used that brain of yours to do something great, but you had to go escape, and leave me to suffer the consequences!"

"No! Please!" Oscar's voice rose in panic. "I can't go back! I can't! I've swore I'd never help the Octarians! Not after what I've learned! Never again!" His breathing grew faster, his chest tightening. He struggled further.

"Then you leave me no choice."

Angel used his free arm to pin Oscar to the wall, the boy with the afro thrashing his legs as the weight of his brother's forearm pressed down against his chest. If only he could get a good hit, then he could make a run for it. The older octoling bit his lip, taking the shades he wore off. For a moment, he stared into his true eyes—orange, just like his. But then, Angel flipped the shades around and forced them onto Oscar.

Immediately, Oscar calmed down as a drilling voice began to echo through his head.

Trust DJ Octavio. Our leader is superior. He will lead the Octarians to the light of which we have been deprived of for so long. Follow his word, and we will be led to victory.

Angel lifted his arm off of Oscar. The boy with the afro took a deep breath, feeling his tension loosen. He looked down at himself. What was he wearing? This wasn't the octoling uniform. This was...inkling clothing. Was he on a spy mission? With orders pounding in his head, he couldn't remember. He couldn't think, even. Only that he was in the wrong place.

His head cleared. He remembered now... He was a technician. He was in DJ Octavio's wasabi supply unit. However, he had been gone for three years, and now he had been ordered to go home. And go home, he will.

Angel smiled. "Ready?"

Oscar nodded. "Ready. I won't act out on you again."

The older octoling held out a hand. "Welcome back, Oscar."

The younger octoling took it, and they started walking through the corridors. As they walked, the voice continued to speak in his head.

You are in the land of the enemy. Be vigilant, and do not let your guard down, no matter what. Inklings are dangerous and will splat you.

"Oscar!" someone then called. The bronze-skinned boy lifted his head. He recognized that voice, but he couldn't remember who it belonged to. The voice in his head told him to ignore it, though.

A red blob landed in front of the two octolings, transforming into something humanoid. Pointed ears, fat tentacles with a single suction cup on the white underside, and a black mask that was connected.

An inkling.

Instinctively, Oscar pulled out a weapon, which he registered as an Inkbrush. Orange ink dripped from the bristles, ready to be used.

"What are you doing?" the inkling asked. A rough, medium-pitched voice that sounded masculine. Just like the one that had called out his name. "Didn't you want to hang out here?" His red eyes drifted over to Angel. "...W-Who's that?"

Oscar felt his cheeks grow hot. Octolings do not fall in love with inklings, the drone remarked in response. They will backstab you and lead you to your demise. Rid yourself of those terrible feelings.

"My brother," the boy with the afro replied in Inkling, pointing to Angel. Then, he continued, "I realize truth, inkling. I am leaving now."

"What?!" the inkling exclaimed. "No, you can't leave!" He starting running up to them. Oscar swiped his brush, causing the inkling to stagger backwards. He looked down at his jacket, orange ink dripping off of it. He lifted his head, eyes wide. "...Oscar?"

"Octolings do not belong in Inkopolis," he explained, spitting out the words of the drone. "They never have."

"What do you mean? Of course they do!" the tan-skinned boy puzzled. "You never brought it up before, why bring it up now?"

"Enough," Angel interjected, pulling out an Octo Shot. The inkling flinched, eyes growing wide. Oscar started to feel bad, but the voice quickly shot them down. "Stop...'playing dumb.'" Angel paused between each word, just like Oscar had once done, he realized. His brother didn't know Inkling as well as he did. "You want...Octarians...dead. Correct?"

"Huh?" The red-haired inkling started to tremble. "Where'd you get that from?"

Angel's eyes narrowed and fired his Octo Shot. The inkling turned into a squid, dodging the shots. He reformed and ran behind the older octoling, tackling him and knocking him to the ground. The Octo Shot clattered to the floor a few feet in front of him. Oscar ran over to it and picked it up, ditching his Inkbrush. He aimed the shooter, and his finger hovered over the trigger.

It should be simple...but he couldn't find himself able to do it.

"Oscar! It's me, Roy!" the inkling urged, lifting himself up from Angel. "I dunno what's wrong with you, but this isn't you."

Roy... He remembered now: he befriended an inkling named Roy. But how long would it take for him to backstab him?

"I have been lying to myself," the bronze-skinned boy said. "I shall not act no more."

Roy's lip curled, and he looked down at Oscar's brother. "What did you do?" he roared, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," Angel replied. "I only...show Oscar...truth."

"Truth..." the inkling muttered to himself. He scanned the area before meeting eyes with Oscar once again. "The shades!" he realized.

Roy launched himself off of Angel, dashing straight towards the octoling with the afro. Oscar backed up, his hands shaking as he aimed the Octo Shot. As the inkling reached out a hand, he finally pulled the trigger, orange ink squirting from the barrel. The ink collided with Roy's chest as he slammed a hand across Oscar's cheek, causing both the weapon and the shades to be knocked off of him.

His thoughts cleared, he stared straight ahead as the events that had transpired registered in his mind. Roy rejected him, so he went to Port Mackerel alone. He found his brother at Port Mackerel. His brother tried to capture him and forced some mind-control device on him. He tried to splat Roy.

...He tried to splat Roy.

He looked down at the red-haired inkling. He had collapsed into Oscar's chest, his arms holding the boy up. His eyes were closed shut, red hair disheveled. His breaths were shallow, but he was alive, if just barely. That was what mattered most.

He looked over at Angel. His brother had grabbed the shades he was wearing earlier, putting them back on. He walked over to the scrap material he had discarded earlier and picked them up.

"You won this time," the octoling with the curtain cut said in Octarian. "But I'll get you back home, no matter what it takes. Next time, you won't be so lucky to have your boyfriend show up."

"B-Boyfriend?!" Oscar stuttered, blushing. But before Angel could elaborate, he was gone. A magenta streak of ink shot through the air, growing smaller and smaller by the minute.

The orange-haired boy carried Roy over to the wall, setting him down on the floor and taking off his skull bandana. He grabbed his Inkbrush, and, changing his ink color to red, painted a puddle of ink at his side.

"Wake up," he whispered, nudging the tip of the brush to his cheek. "Please."

Oscar waited a few moments, and after they had passed, Roy had still not woken up. He sighed, putting his Inkbrush away. He kneeled at his side, hovering over him. He unbuttoned the varsity jacket, revealing a black tee, and put an ear to his ink-covered chest. His heart was still beating, and he was still breathing, much to his relief.

He didn't know how much time passed before Roy woke up. He only watched the orange ink on him slowly evaporate, the land growing darker as the moon was covered by clouds. Eventually, he heard the tan-skinned boy groan, his eyes sluggish to open.

"Where..." His gaze drifted over to meet Oscar's orange eyes. "Oscar...?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, frowning. "I am the reason why you get hurt."

"No, it's my fault," Roy argued. "I panicked when you asked me out. I should've gone with you." His brows knitted together in worry. "And then maybe I could've stopped your brother from doing...whatever he did to you."

"Then... You are liking me?"

The red-haired inkling didn't answer.

"...Get up," Oscar said. He reached out a hand, and the tan-skinned boy took it, helping him up. Roy wrapped an arm around the bronze-skinned octoling's shoulder, and the two began to walk out of Port Mackerel, back to Inkopolis.

Roy directed him to his house, a townhouse on the western side of Inkopolis. The red-haired boy took out a key and opened the door. Oscar gave his skull bandana back to him, and before he closed the door, he looked back at the octoling.

"Thanks," he said with a weak smile.

Oscar nodded. "You are welcome."

Roy closed the door, leaving him out in the darkness. He turned around and walked down the steps, back towards his own apartment. Though he remained safe for now, one thing still bugged him.

Just what did Angel have planned?

He hoped he didn't have to find out the answer.

---

A/N: Finally, I can rest. A lot has happened in my life between Bonus Story 4 and today, both good and bad. But for the most part, it is past me. Bonus Story 5 is done, and you basically got Oscar's entire backstory. I didn't expect it to get this long, not at all. But, that's what happened. I've been working on this for a while, to the point where I started to neglect Season 4. For reference, the last time I opened the document with the Season 4 chapters was May 9th. That was almost a month ago. Anyways, how do you feel about these recent developments? There will be consequences, that's for sure. What will they be? Well, you'll have to wait and see. The first chapter of Season 4 (chapter 90) will come out on June 6th. Probably at the usual time. Branchwing, out!