The Kraken's Den was the Octarian Army's oldest and strongest fortress. Made of stone impossible to get in the domes, it had been built during the war, Octavio's secret project to preserve their race and culture.

It guarded the largest entrance to the inner domes, the only one large enough for vehicles to pass through, and every single one of those vehicles had to be carefully inspected to ensure no intruders made it past. It was also the furthest from the inner domes takevir were typically allowed to go.

Sevram paused only to check in with the guards at the gate before going inside, Dalia following close behind him.

"Don't make that anxious face," she whispered to him playfully. "These young girls don't like seeing a takevir with wrinkles."

Sevram rolled his eyes. "You're younger than a lot of them. Don't act like you're a crone already."

She giggled. He didn't have to look at her to see the playful glint in her eyes.

As Lord of Education, Sevram had been to the Kraken's Den a few times to speak with officers about the training their soldiers underwent, as well as ways to streamline certain aspects of the standard education.

The interior of the Kraken's Den was dimly lit by electric lamps, the passageways and rooms carved directly into the rock. Many of the lamps were no longer working due to age. Eventually, after traveling a reasonable distance through the almost maze-like network of passageways, they came across the office of Executrix Gabralla Sever, the thick wooden doors flanked by two elite guards. Chana, the bodyguard of Lord Hobber, was leaning against the wall outside.

Sevram gave her a nod and went through the doors as one of the guards let him in.

Gabralla Sever's office was spartan, especially for the office of someone of such high rank. People in high positions usually stored some mementos or artifacts in their office as a kind of public service, allowing visitors to see these treasures and hopefully be inspired by their history. The only artifact in Gabralla's office was a set of ancient Octarian armour, it's plates made from giant fish scales and the hard shells of their ancient crab enemies.

Sever was already sat behind her desk, face partially hidden behind steepled fingers, her elbows propped on the desktop. Septain Betanuss sat in the middle chair directly in front of the desk, waiting patiently.

Lemery Hobber, Lord of Trade, was the only other person in the room and he sat in the chair on the far-right of Sevram, with Betanuss between them.

Sevram sat and then Sever nodded at Septain Betanuss who stood up and held out a piece of shockingly clean white paper, beginning to slowly read out the contents of the letter. He kept his eyes fixated on a small tensegrity platform on Sever's desk, giving them something to focus on even as his mind absorbed the contents of the message.

Sever watched Betanuss with serious eyes, as if an ultimatum were being read to her, which honestly sounded a lot like what they were hearing.

Hobber's expression as they listened was one of increasing desperation and panic. He had been counting on developing some relations to the inklings to give his ministry some actual relevance in the Ravalda. Despite his excellent work making deals with the Salmonids, most considered his position little more than honorary.

Betanuss finished her reading and then, with a nod from Sever, sat down.

"Thank you for bringing this to us, promptly, Septain. Anything else we need to know?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I did say that Agent 3 had delivered this in person. To put it clearly, she infiltrated our outpost and handed it to me at my desk."

Sever raised an eyebrow. "She simply walked in and handed you the letter?"

Septain remained stiff. "No, Ma'am. It seems she… killed all of our octotroopers and octocoptors first. I believe she did so to help drive the message home all the more." Her tentacles curled with discomfort. "She seemed angry; although, I'm not really sure why considering she was so amicable when I spoke to her just the day before."

"They certainly sounded a little insulated by our letter," Hobbart said, looking down at his feet. "Or maybe just by the tone of it. Regardless, I think they want to make it clear that they're serious and that it's not some elaborate trick."

"Along with making us well aware what the consequences of not accepting are and making us aware of just how little is stopping them from doing what they want," Sever muttered. "Septain, how has morale been affected?"

Betanuss frowned at the question, and Sevram saw her discreetly look between him and Hobber before Sever motioned her to continue regardless. Either Sever was seriously starting to trust him more or she was simply getting desperate. Perhaps after all the in-fighting in her former faction, she felt she had no choice but to switch teams entirely.

"It's mixed, Ma'am. There is hope that the inkling's offer will mean peace and thus improve the quality of life for our people. As for Agent 3's infiltration…" she grimaced. "Well, it has them more than a little spooked how easily she was able to get in without them noticing, but they also think that her not killing them is a positive improvement. So, they seem confident in me and that our efforts are making a difference, but the wait has been making them anxious."

Sever's brows knitted in frustration. "But the delay was due to Captain Cuttlefish's interference, yes? I believe you mentioned that in one of your earlier reports."

Betanuss winced. "I believe so. I wasn't sure at the time, but given how promptly I received the reply after speaking to Agent 3 directly, I believe we can assume that to be the case. If I were to guess I would say he was deliberately trying to prevent it from reaching them."

"I'm not surprised at all," Hobber said, lifting his head to give them all a serious look. "I delved into the archives of the old Foriegn Affairs ministry and learned a few things about Captain Cuttlefish as I was researching the circumstances around the end of the war."

Sevram leaned forward a bit to more easily see him around Betanuss. "What did you find?"

"As the war was nearing what would become its conclusion, the inklings started to argue about how they would actually go about winning and what winning actually meant for them. They essentially split into two factions: one simply called for a return to the already established borders, wanting the war to end as soon as possible; the other faction wanted to conquer us entirely and ensure we never became a threat again. These factions became known as the Peacemakers and the Completionists. Captain Cuttlefish was one of the driving members of the Comletionist faction. Before a decision could be made, their monarch died suddenly and so they were forced to come to a compromise between the two factions. Our records after that are spotty at best but given how much Captain Cuttlefish has continued to oppose us I don't think he has ever stopped being a Completionist."

Sevram stroked his chin with one of his tentacles, thinking hard. "So, in other words, we can assume that whoever we're actually dealing with, they are trying to do this with some discretion. Given how willing they appear to be to finish us off this time, I think it's safe to assume there are still plenty of Completionists left in positions of authority."

Hobber nodded. "I think it's safe to assume that. Remember, the wording of the original letter was about reestablishing diplomatic relations in the hopes of creating peace. Technically, peace hasn't come to us yet and it can't until we reestablish diplomatic efforts again. It's the only way we'll be able to see out into the world and what is actually going on around us." He pointed to the sheet of pristine white paper on Sever's desk. "This may be our only way out. If we wait much longer, the inklings won't be asking for diplomats, they'll be asking for our surrender. I think they've made it clear they're almost out of patience."

Sevram watched Sever carefully, noting the way she sighed and her shoulders sagged in defeat. The army had put up a front of confidence for a long time, but in the past week it had crumbled away little by little as in-fighting broke out among Octavio's supporters, thus wearing away support for Octavio and his philosophy. It was also painfully clear by now that the war had not been as successful as they had initially made it out to be. With that truth out, they just seemed tired of trying to maintain the illusion of a proud and victorious army. Although they hadn't made the whole truth evident, they seemed all too aware that continuing to prosecute the war would doom them all. Unfortunately, they were also aware that they weren't allowed to call it quits yet, because that was something only the government could decide.

Sever finally raised her head. The look in her eyes said said she had come to a decision.

"Septain Betanuss,. I'm rotating your troops out. The officers will remain but your line troops are obviously tired and need rest. I'll be sending a fresh force to replace them."

Betanuss's mouth fell open a bit. "M-ma'am, I appreciate that but changing them all at once means we'll have to re-train all the new troops about the unique circumstances on the surface."

"I'm sure you can manage. Your current troops were formerly assigned to Pollup Prison. They're overdue for relief."

Betanuss frowned briefly but straightened her back and said, "Understood Ma'am. We will adapt."

Sevram felt a brief surge in pride seeing the young officer tackle adversity with such resolve. It made him almost regret what he was about to do.

"Executrix, Lord Hobber, given these and other recent developments, I believe it is necessary that we proceed as planned. Things have advanced to the point where we can hold back no longer."

Hobber nodded but Sever eyed him critically. She didn't look surprised but she did seem slightly annoyed. Perhaps she had wanted to wait further. Eventually though, she sighed and straightened in her chair.

"Septain Avrika Garath Wavecrest Summer Betanuss, stand."

Betanuss did as ordered, standing up ramrod straight. "Ma'am."

It was obvious by her body language that she was very anxious and on-guard, expecting something drastic about to happen. Perhaps she was expecting a promotion?

Well, that's one way to look at it.

"As Executrix of the Octarian Army I hereby honorably discharge you from your duties as an officer and a soldier. We thank you for your honorable service and it will not be forgotten."

Betanuss stood, stunned and slack jawed. Confusion was all over her face, her colour had even paled, noticeable even in the poor light of the office. For a second, Sevram thought she might cry.

"I don't understand," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

"You'll be joining my ministry," Hobber said, sounding much too cheerful for the atmosphere. "You will be our first official diplomat, our first ambassador."

Betanuss' shock gained sharpness as she turned to Hobber and then back at the executrix.

"But… I thought the Ravalda needed to see the inkling's reply to make a decision about whether to pursue-."

Sever cut her off with a raised hand. "The Ravalda is no longer an issue, it will be busy adapting our society to the changes that will soon be coming. Henceforth, the military will be taking a purely defensive role and the Ministry of Trade will be taking the offensive on our behalf. You will be the tip of our new spear."

The newly minted ambassador frowned, trying to process this new information. "Then… that can only mean we have a dictator…"

Sevram allowed himself a small smile. Despite it having been kept well under wraps by the government and upper echelons of the government, Betanuss had put the pieces together well. That made him feel better about giving her the position of ambassador.

"Correct," he said. "You will meet the new dicatrix in due time. For the time being, you will be undergoing some tutelage under Lord Hobber for your new role. Brief though it may be, try to learn as much as you can. I will also be providing you with as many learning materials and resources as possible. Oh, and Executrix Sever will soon be promoted to Lady of War."

Betanuss stared at her former executrix for a moment but Sever refused to meet her gaze. Embarrassment perhaps? Or even shame? Then Betanuss looked back at him.

"Then, what is Lord Octavio's status?"

Sevram frowned. That was still a rather sticky situation that still hadn't been resolved. The former army faction was split up into a few different groups now, mostly because the army had simply withdrawn from the Ravalda Imperium altogether. The rest, however, insisted on holding onto their delusions that Octavio was still some kind of divine hero and were managing to prolong the issue of his official status.

"Lord Hobber will fill you in in due time. Right now I think you have enough to think about. All in due time. Remember, you answer to him now."

A look of discomfort washed over her and Sevram felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was being passed around like a tool, but, ultimately, that was a role some people needed to play.

"Before that," Sever said. "The soon-to-be ambassador and I need to work out a few loose ends. If you will excuse us, Lords."

Sevram and Hobber stood up and left the room, giving brief good-byes as they left. They caught up with their bodyguards outside and headed out of the Kraken's Den.

They came out to a bit of a fuss. A truck had broken down right in front of the gate and the troops were trying to push it through, but it was carrying a heavy load of scrap iron and the ground was far from flat there.

"More pieces of a broken dome," Hobber muttered, watching the scene with him.

"How can you tell?"

"Where else would they get a full truck load of scrap?" Hobber shook his head. "That's the only way we can get that much metal these days. I heard that Bodov is planning to decommission the worst of the outer domes and use the scrap to fix some of the others."

Sevram grunted. "Well, at least we won't be needed to feed that scrap to the army anymore."

Hobber hummed thoughtfully. "I never expected Gabralla to cave so easily."

Sevram snorted. "She didn't cave. I think she finally just accepted that Octavio – the Octavio we knew and thought we followed, is long gone. She's probably known it for a while and simply accepted it now that he's been removed as dictator."

"You trust her to work with us?"

"She will do her duty and we need her to keep some of the more… stubborn officers in the army in check. They might have pulled out of the Ravalda Imperium but that doesn't mean they won't still be a sliver in our side. Make sure Betanuss is aware of that."

"I plan to, but as excited as I am to finally have a diplomat working under me, I can't help but feel a little anxious about turning a soldier into a diplomat. They're like polar opposite roles."

"But she is also a mother and she's spent most of the last two years in that particular role before the army took her away prematurely." He suppressed a scowl. He knew that removing the children's mother too early could negatively affect the children's mental health and development. Unfortunately, the army still had the ghost of Octavio's authority at the time. Perhaps he could try thinking of a way to undo that damage. He might have to have a chat with the High Mother.

"Well, I'll do whatever I can," Hobber said. "But I won't be able to take as much time as either of us would like. The inklings are clearly impatient. I don't think I want to keep her more than a week."

"We'll just have to hope that's long enough. And right now, hope is the resource we need most."

Gangrin checked his equipment for the last time. His ink tank in particular had been giving him trouble, but it seemed to be working fine for the moment. He didn't want anything going wrong during his precious practice time.

"Gangrin, if you wait too long you're going to waste your Saturday. You know that the indoor arenas won't get you as many matches this time of year."

Priestess Ganni was one of the younger priestesses looking after orphans in the temple. Her bright smile and sunny yellow mantle were always a pleasant sight to see, especially for anyone in a foul mood, like he was. He wondered why no guy had ever picked her up. Most priestesses her age were busy raising their own children, not orphans.

"Sorry," he said, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt. Unlike some people, he didn't take his anger out on those undeserving. "I just wanted to make double sure everything was okay." He hefted the tank onto his back and picked up his splattershot. None of his equipment was top notch, but considering the temple had provided it, he was just lucky to have it. He was saving up his winnings to try and earn his own gear so that this equipment could be left to some other kid who wanted to turf war.

"It's important to look after things," Ganni agreed. "It's a good sign of maturity too. I'm certainly less worried about you setting out on your own than some of those who came before you."

Gangrin looked at her, seeing the bright smile, but a nagging doubt pulled at him. "You think so? Because you believe I can become a pro turf war player, right?"

Ganni sighed, her smile and mantle turning apologetic. "I don't know enough about turf war to give you an informed opinion, but if you work hard and prove yourself, then I don't see why not. There is a phrase in the Wisdoms that says 'you are your only limitation'."

"Right, I just have to prove that I've got what it takes, and I do."

"Then getting out there and showing it is what you have to do, so you'd better get moving." She glanced up at the clock mounted on the wall. "There are only about ten minutes until the next bus arrives."

Urged on, Gangrin hurried out of the room and into the hall, careful not to actually run. His only stop between his room and the bus stop was the coat room.

Placing his gear on the bench outside the coat room door, he went inside and was half-surprised to find two other people there. Marsh and Miazama sat across from each other, apparently doing their best to ignore each other's presence. Marsh had his nose buried in a magazine while Miazama sat with her knees to her chest, glowering at a stain on the floor directly in front of her feet.

Gangrin sighed and retrieved his jacket. "You two in here again? I thought you were told not to hide out in here."

Miazama ignored him while Marsh huffed. "Only place someone can read in peace."

"There's nobody in the boy's room right now."

Marsh didn't respond, he just flipped to the next page in the magazine. Gangrin let it go and retrieved his jacket, putting it and his mitts on. He caught sight of the magazine cover as he bundled up.

"Gyari Trailmaker on the cover again?"

"It's a new issue," he said. "It just showed up in the library. I fought some other kid to get it first."

"Was he older than you?"

Marsh's scowl finally broke, replaced with a confident smirk. "Yeah, older than you, I think. He didn't fight very good. He was easy. He should read more of these magazines if he wants to get tougher."

Miazama actually looked up at that. Gangrin was surprised she had actually been listening. She was normally far off in her old world.

"Whas' so great 'bout Gyari Trailmaker?"

Marsh glared at her, as if the question itself was an offense. Unlike some of the younger kids, they had all interacted with Miazama enough to be able to decipher her Xapheerelli dialect, at least, most of the time.

"He's the most masculine inkyar still alive. He's got five wives and he won all of them through yun'rai-ka. They were challenges people thought impossible and he did it."

"How do you know his wives weren't weak?" Gangrin asked. He half expected Marsh to snap at him, but instead, he actually sighed.

"They were the Mountain Queens, the best street racers in the country. He beat them all in races on their own turf. All his wives are really strong. That's the whole point."

Miazama crossed her arms. "So, simple-like, you wana' winnuh' yun'rai-ka? D'ya 'ven care wha' she like?"

"No more than she would," Marsh replied with a slight grumble. "Yun'rai-ka are for her girls to sort out the weak males from the strong and then find the strongest. She won't care what he's like as long as he's strong and can give her strong children."

Miazama snorted, her mantle turning brown. "Betten them 'zines never interviewed 'is wives."

Gangrin pulsed grey. "They put up the challenge. It's their own fault."

"That's right. They got what they wanted. I want strong inkyora to be my wives too. Strength is what matters most."

Miazama gave him a dubious look. "So, iffen' dat slag was actually strong like, you'd try fur 'er?"

Marsh flinched, his mantle turning a ruddy brown. "Slag" could only refer to one person.

"She's weak. She's not strong at all. My other wives would just wonder why I bothered with her. If she were strong she wouldn't be getting bossed around by Octarians."

Gangrin snickered as he put his earmuffs on. "So confident you'll get other wives? You're probably right about her though. Even the octoling in our squad – Vella, was it? She didn't seem to think much of her either, or any of the other octolings, from what I saw. I bet Tani acts the way she does because she knows that where she is is the highest she's gonna' get. Unlike everyone else, she has no future. She was just happy to have us to boss around, only she found out she couldn't, so she lost her cool."

The others flashed green in agreement, but the scowls they wore indicated that Tani's words had struck deeper than either cared to admit. If Gangrin was honest with himself, they had struck him hard too and he couldn't think of anything he'd done to deserve it. Not piling bricks the "correct way" certainly wasn't justification.

"I'm off to Inkopolis Square," he said. "See you guys later."

Miazama said nothing, like always, while Marsh just grunted.

As Gangrin picked up his gear he saw Tephilla speaking with Priestess Ganni. He didn't have to actually hear what she was saying to know what she was doing. Tephilla was a suck up; she always did her best to appear pure and innocent and act like the perfect child, usually by snitching on her fellow orphans or correcting them when there was a priestess around to hear. Since she was the only one Tani hadn't chewed out, she must have been sucking up to her at some point too. Actually, he wouldn't be surprised if Tephilla was the reason she'd done it in the first place.

"Whatever," he muttered to himself, carrying his gear out the door. "Stacking bricks isn't going to get me anywhere, turf war is. Nothing else I want to do so doing anything else doesn't matter." And he wasn't going to let some D-ranked (probably) girl two-years younger than him tell him otherwise.

"You messed up royally," Katrina sighed. "Kids like that aren't going to respond well to being yelled at, much less criticized. I'd say you're pretty much splatted there."

Four hung her head, her mantle a morose mix of reds and blues. "It's just… they treated me just like a lot of the kids back home. How was I supposed to be in charge of them? And Vella… well, she doesn't like Inklings period, for obvious reasons."

Katrina grimaced and sipped her hot cocoa. "You should have let Eight talk to her."

"She doesn't particularly like Eight either. I mean, I think she wants to see Eight as a sister, but she also sees Eight as a traitor."

Katrina pulsed grey. "She's gonna' have to get over it if she wants to live here." She set her cup aside. "You haven't talked to Eight since it happened, have you?"

Four winced. She had been deliberately avoiding Eight ever since that dreadful day. She was relieved that it was the weekend so she didn't have to see Cricket Squad for a little while, but that wouldn't resolve the problem.

"And I bet you haven't talked to Kifi, either."

"No, I have," Four insisted. "I told her I was having trouble motivating the squad."

"Before or after the issue happened?"

"Guh, before."

Katrina pulsed maroon. "You're running. That's not like you."

"I know." Her mantle turned a dark blue, ripples of panicked yellow-orange washing across its surface. She hesitated for a moment then pulled her phone out. "I also got this text a few hours before that."

Katrina accepted the phone and stared at the screen, reading the last received message with a frown.

"It might be best if you stayed in Inkopolis for now?" She looked back at Four but received only a halfhearted pulse of grey in response, mixed with worry and uncertainty.

Katrina sighed. "Well, I know what I'd do in this situation."

Four looked up at her, renewed hope in her eyes. "What?"

"I'd go anyway and just deal with whatever's there. They're obviously not telling you the whole story."

"But there has to be a good reason for them not to want me there," Four protested. "They wouldn't say something like this otherwise."

"Like what?"

"I don't know; that's why I asked."

Katrina pulsed red several times. "Pretty sure that if Mom were here, she wouldn't be able to come up with a good reason either." She handed Four back her phone and stood up.

"Come on, I need some air. Doesn't look like you'll be getting answers tonight anyway, so you might as well not worry about it."

Four slowly stood up and put her phone back in her pocket. "I'm normally good at that sort of thing."

"Normally, but lately you haven't been acting like your usual obnoxious self."

Four's expression cracked with a slight smile. "I'm not obnoxious; just energetic."

"Whatever."

The cool air outside helped wake Four up after being in the warmth of the RV. The car meet wasn't as lively tonight, with only about half of the usual numbers of people, due to the cold, and there wasn't as much music being blasted either. The restaurant was supplying plastic-wrapped sandwiches, the only thing they could provide in bulk tonight. People were going two and fro between the order window and various groups spread throughout the parking lot.

Four stayed next to Katrina who graciously kept her distance from the Octarian area of the crowd, for now.

"You hungry?" She asked.

"I guess a little. Think they'll offer something other than sandwiches?"

"Hot sandwiches, maybe," Katrina grinned. "Let's go see."

As they walked towards the restaurant, Four spotted Hani carrying a tray of sandwiches, and realized it had been a while since she'd seen her. The once proud leader figure among the octolings had now been reduced to the lowest rung on the ladder, and clearly the one sent to perform all the menial tasks for the rest.

Just as she passed one of the clusters of inklings, one stuck his leg out right in front of her. Hani tripped and the tray flew out of her hands. The sandwiches scattered onto the parking lot.

"Watch where you're going," he groused.

Hani, barely reacted. She looked so downtrodden as she quietly started gathering the sandwiches that Four actually felt sorry for her. In spite of what she'd done and the fact that most believed she had gotten off too easy for plotting Three's assassination and slandering her mother, this seemed unnecesarily cruel.

Or maybe it's just because of what happened with Cricket Squad that I'm feeling this way, Four thought. That was probably it.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and Three soon entered her vision. Hani saw her approaching and paled. The look on her face made it seem as though death itself was approaching her.

She looked like she was trying to make herself accept her imminent death until Three stopped near her and told her, "stand up."

Hani obeyed as if the command had been sent directly to her brain, instantly coming up from hands and knees to the position of attention.

"Wait here."

Three walked on, careful not to step on any of the sandwiches as she approached the inkyar who had tripped Hani.

"You," she said, her voice low and even. The perpetrator turned and frowned at her.

"What?"

"Apologize and pick those up."

He looked stunned. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I saw you trip her. That was your fault. Apologize and pick those up." Now he looked even more confused.

"Why are you defending her after what she did?"

"I forgave her," Three said. "You have no right to do what you did."

"She wronged us too," one of his friends said. "We accepted her into our community and she betrayed us."

"And she is being punished for it," Three said. "I don't recall playground bullying being part of the sentence Matron Trailmaker set."

"Watch it kid," the perpetrator said. "You may be a queen's brat but you're new around here. Maybe when you grow up, you'll understand." He turned away but Four knew Three wasn't done.

"I'm not taking that from someone who acts like a child. I'm going to say it one more time and only one more time: apologize to Hani and pick up those sandwiches."

By now, all other conversation around the parking lot had stopped, everyone focused on the confrontation with Three.

"Look, girl, you may be one of Silvia's favourites, but don't push it or-."

"You should do what she says."

All eyes suddenly turned to Murl, his dark-blue mantle difficult to discern in the dark. He was giving the group an almost haunted look as he clutched his right arm.

"I have a strong feeling that if you don't do what she says, you'll come to regret it. Badly. Just swallow your pride and do it. You might be able to walk home that way."

The two inkyar looked at Murl and then back at Three, who hadn't stopped glaring at them. Her expression was colder than the winter air and her mantle communicated, "do it or else" in no uncertain terms.

The first inkyar gritted his beak and walked past her, apologizing to Hani before getting down and starting to pick up the sandwiches.

"You too," Three said to his friend.

"What?"

"You tried to defend his actions. That makes you an accomplice. Get on your knees and help."

Three's tone and her tuk'yan brokered no argument, so they did as he was told.

Four glanced back at Murl who was walking away now, rubbing at his right-arm. If she remembered right, that was the one with the big scar.

I wonder if he learned the same lesson the hard way.

Once all the sandwiches had been picked up and the tray handed back to Hani, Three brushed past all of them and headed back to where the octolings were gathered, her mantle colouration making her displeasure very clear.

"Fall in," she barked at them. The octolings instantly obeyed, falling into formation in two long rows. Katrina frowned at this.

"What is she doing?"

Four had no answer, so like everyone else, all she could do was watch as Three walked in front of the octoling formation and came to a halt, facing them.

She stood there, glaring at them all individually. "Did all of you really think that was acceptable behavior? I realize you are still on probation with this community but that doesn't mean casual abuse should be tolerated. I know Hani isn't the most popular person among you either but that's irrelevant. She is part of this unit, which means an attack on her is an attack on this unit, but you all did nothing while one of your own was attacked. Do you all feel like you are considered second-class citizens here? Do you all feel like octolings are inferior to inklings?"

No response.

"Then I expect you to act like it. I will not allow inequality to exist here just because you're too afraid to act. From now on you will stand up for yourselves and believe you are all equals to be granted equal consideration with any other citizen in this city. Think you can do that?"

"Yes, Ma'am," they all chorused.

"You were all granted a grace period since you needed time to adapt to and understand inkling society in order to properly integrate yourselves, so I'll forgive your inaction, this time, but no more." Three's mantle intensified with bright colours, including purple. "We didn't spend all this effort so you could be content as lower-class citizens. You may not like her, you may not like what she's done, but don't think we've forgotten what the rest of you did either."

Four saw winces among the rows of octolings. They had, after all, all participated in the plot to kill Three.

"With that in mind, if it's permissible to mistreat Hani, it's permissible to mistreat you. I assume you don't want that, so there will be no more excuses. From now on the slate is wiped clean and it is pure merit that will count from here on out. Am I understood?"

"Yes, "Ma'am."

"Are you octolings or scum?"

"Octolings, Ma'am."

"Then I expect better from you. Remember that your behavior reflects on me and those higher than me." She didn't have to elaborate on who she was referring to.

"Dismissed."

The octolings dispersed while Three marched back to where Eight was standing, the latter looking like she might pass out at any moment, her eyes brimming with pride and excitement.

Geez, Eight; cool your jets girl or you'll end up making a mess.

"I don't think I've ever seen or heard Tina talk so much," Katrina commented. "She must have been really inked off."

Four flashed red. "You haven't seen her inked off yet. Trust me."

As the thrill of the moment faded, Four couldn't help but compare how she'd reacted to her squad's bad behavior to how Three had reacted to her own unit. Three had lifted their pride, making them believe they were better than that; whereas Four had stomped on their pride, trying to bring them down low. She thought she'd already felt like a total squit stain for what she'd done, but now she felt even worse.

How can I become like you, big sis?