The 'snow' audibly crunched beneath their shoes as Shiver and Tres wandered across the depths of Alterna, illuminated by the bright artificial sunlight of the many advanced liquid-crystal panels that formed the dome of the great underground arcology. They walked together side by side in comfortable silence underneath the false sky, still marred by the hole left behind by the rocket, their goal being the abandoned labs just within walking distance from their current location.
Tres was donned in his full hero gear; the bright yellow and blue trimmed jacket fit snugly over his build and the special ink tank on his back had been modified in such a way for Little Buddy to hang around in as he explored the underground.
Around his head were the newest model of long range two-way communicators, a pearlescent headset that was lighter, more compact and fresher looking than the ones that came before. Tying it all together was a pair of matching trainers and black khakis that, if he were being brutally honest, rode up his crotch a bit too much for his liking (Marie did say they were hand-me-downs from when Kuki wore them).
Normally he would be equipped with the standard issue hero shot but the captain had authorized him use of his own personal weapon: a refurbished splatana stamper retrofitted with the overcharged motor of a hydra splatling. It was an unsightly thing, with bolts and other scrap sticking out of it, either welded on or held together haphazardly with epoxy resin and wrapped in duct tape. It was equal parts a marvel and nightmare of mechanical engineering.
Beside him was Shiver, dressed in her sparse wardrobe as many had known her to wear. It was her signature look.
She wore a translucent blue shawl that matched her own blue coloration, a charm in the shape of an octopus dangled off of the neckline by an interwoven red rope. The shawl hung loosely off her shoulders and did little to hide her upper body from the world, though thankfully her naughty bits were tucked away underneath her sarashi.
A twisted hachimaki sat atop her head like a humble crown, in a way it matched her ripped black slacks, socks and red sandals. A trio of shark tooth earrings adorned her right ear to match Frye's own trio of eel teeth.
Casually resting over her shoulder was a well worn octobrush that had been meticulously maintained over the course of several generations. It was a magnificent piece. Painstakingly carved with intertwining octopus and shark motifs from lustrous petrified mahogany with a handle wrapped in shark skin.
"This is Agent 3 checking in with camp," Tres called on his comms, finger pressed on the headset. "Agent 3 checking in, come in camp. Please respond."
"...*BZZT!* This is Agent 2, we read you loud and clear 3," Marie's voice came on the other end. "What's your status?"
"Sapphire Shark and I are approaching the abandoned laboratories at site 6. It's as we thought, some of them are still powered. We should arrive in a few minut-" Tres replied but was cut off by Marie cutting in at the last second.
"Wait, what? Who the heck is Sapphire Shark?" said Marie bemusingly.
"Sapphire Shark? Oh, that's Shiver's alias." Tres glanced over to Shiver, he could see her hiding a mischievous smile behind her fan.
"What? How come she gets a unique codename and we get boring numbers!" Quattro's voice suddenly buzzed through the channel, along with several others.
"I like my number," said 8.
"We all got cool aliases. Mine's Topaz Eel," said Frye, sounding rather proud of it. "Big Man's Stone Manta."
"Ay! (Stone like my grooves!)" Big Man exclaimed. "Ay! (Check it!)"
"Whoa, are we getting unique code names now?" It was Pearl's voice this time that buzzed through the channel. "Well, I wanna be called Rapper Rose Gold. Short, sweet and to the point, just like me. Agent 5 doesn't have the same ring to it."
"I just realized we don't even have an Agent 7," Marina joined in the conversation. "It feels weird now that I think about it."
"I thought Little Buddy was Agent 7?" said Callie. "He has papers and everything."
"Waaaah!" Little Buddy chirped happily behind Tres.
"Nobody is getting unique code names!" Kuki's near deafening voice angrily blared through the comms. "Look, Shiver and Deep Cut aren't technically a part of the NSS so they don't get numbers and can call themselves whatever they want, that's all there is to it. Now, can the peanut gallery please stop jamming up the line and get back to work?! Agent 3, just ignore all that and keep focus on your task. Continue the mission, we'll be monitoring you back at camp. Is that understood?"
"I hear you, captain," replied Tres. "We'll report again in another hour. 3, out." He let his finger off his headset, but not before hearing Marie bring up the fact that Kuki once wanted to be called the 'Emerald Green Dynamo' when she was still a rookie agent. Kuki's embarrassed screams fizzled away before they could pop his eardrums.
Shiver giggled, collapsing her fan. "It suits me, don't you think?"
"It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl," Tres hummed, unaware of the effect he had on Shiver with his honeyed words.
Shiver felt her hearts quicken and immediately looked away to hide the color dusting her cheeks.
It was odd. When did being called beautiful make her so flustered? Her legion of adoring fans could shout about her beauty from the rooftops for a thousand days and a thousand nights and yet it would only take one single sentence from Tres to drown all that out and make her feel so elated. She couldn't fathom it.
They were strange bedfellows, a relic hunter (read: trash trawler) turned secret agent and a bandit who moonlighted as an idol. He was a natural born scrapper tough as leather on an old boot and she a foxy femme fatale with a flair for the dramatic and a very, very mild case of obsessive compulsion (the mildness of which cannot be understated). They couldn't have been more different, and yet their paths crossed anyway.
One chance meeting.
One climatic battle.
One joint effort to save the world.
And now, they were on a journey together to unravel the mysteries of the past, equals in the face of uncertainty. He respected her prowess and she acknowledged his tenacity. They hit it off quickly as friends, but what had changed all of a sudden? Unsure, she shoved the thoughts deep away in the recesses of her mind and shifted the conversation away from her.
"I'm sure you say that about every idol," she replied coolly.
"No, I'm pretty sure you're the only one so far," Tres replied as a matter o'factly.
"Guah!?" Shiver coughed, scrambling to come up with a response. "Hmph! I guess that makes me special then." She let out a cackle of delight. "It is only natural, after all. In any case, we shouldn't dally. The labs draw near."
"When did you become my boss all of a sudden?" Tres teased.
"When that roguish tongue of yours won't stop messing with my head," she almost said. "When I volunteered to be your guide," she answered.
"Well then, boss lady. Let's hotfoot it," Tres flashed her a cheeky grin before breaking out in a jog. "Try and keep up!"
"Oh, so that's how it is!" Shiver smirked as she matched his pace.
Before long, they had reached site 6, a waterlogged collection of buildings and facilities sticking out of the underground lake. The mere sight of it was enough to make the pair shudder in apprehension.
"Wow..." Tres gulped fearfully. "Look at all that water."
"S-scared?" Shiver teased, failing to hide the quiver in her own voice.
"Of water? Pfft," Tres waved dismissively, sharply sucking in a breath. "It's n-nothing I can't handle."
"Your stammer betrays your true feelings, Tres," Shiver shot back.
"...Not gonna dignify that," He grumbled.
For the most part, site 6, dubbed the Happiness Research Lab by the humans, was the most innocuous of Alterna. Yet the mundane outward appearance belies its true worth within. There was something in the labs worth finding. It was up to the two of them to find out exactly what.
"Ladies first," Tres gestured to the nearby ink rails.
"Such a gentleman," Shiver winked.
Together they rode the ink rails along the breadth of the area before landing on the roof of the tallest building. From there they entered with suspiciously little resistance. It was eerily quiet, and the emptiness of it all unnerved the pair. They wandered through dilapidated hallways and messy cubicles where humans had once lived and worked in. It was a figurative ghost town, devoid of any and all life.
"This place is probably the creepiest we've explored so far, and we're not even that deep into it yet," Tres muttered, hand resting atop the pommel of his sheathed stamper. He glanced around the workplace, noting the trash strewn all over the place, and words in a language he couldn't understand.
"It should bother you no less than those strange statues propped up back at the other island," said Shiver, subconsciously gripping her octobrush tightly. "Look, an elevator," she pointed down the hall, "maybe we can use that to descend into the bowels of the labs."
"Please don't use that word," Tres grimaced as he followed her lead. They filed into the elevator and after a bit of fiddling with the touch panel entered what they assumed was the code to the doors closed with a ding sound before it began to descend into the depths of the labs.
The ride down was long and uneventful, punctuated by scratchy sounding muzak from a bygone era. Shiver and Tres leaned against opposite ends of the lift, they were looking every which way but in front of them. After some time, Tres decided to break the ice, if only to make the ride a little less awkward for the both of them.
He noted the ornate octobrush in her hands. She cradled it like a doll, it was the first time he'd seen her with it.
One of the things that set Splatsville apart from Inkopolis was how the locals treated their gear.
Folks in Inkopolis had the luxury of simply purchasing the newest and hottest gear available whenever they felt like it. Chomping at the bits wildly like piranhas in a feeding frenzy for weapons and clothes that will likely be replaced by another fresher, more shiny piece of loot the season after, repeating the cycle of consumerism without so much as a second thought.
In Splatsville things were the opposite.
Gear usually came in two specific categories; either refurbished junk or dusty heirlooms spanning several generations. Both having been carefully maintained and retrofitted a hundred times a hundred times over.
It was uncommon for the average Splatlandian to cobble together enough scratch to afford the newest piece of gear the moment it came out. This was one of the reasons why Sheldon, ever the savvy business crab, had swapped over accepting weapon licenses instead of cash when he opened up the Splatsville branch of Ammo Knights.
Gear, especially weapons, that came from big families were oft treated with a level of reverent mysticism usually reserved for the likes of fantastical legends. Passed down from one generation to the next there was a mythical quality to them that a factory fresh piece of equipment just didn't have. Sure, they might not always live up to the hype, but the tried and true nature of it usually overshadows any flaws it may possess.
On the flip side, those with less money or lacked a generational relic opted to build their own gear out of whatever scrap they could get their hands on. Many of these weapons were unsightly rust ridden things, dangerous to their own users as they are to others. These Frankenstein looking contraptions were wildly unpredictable, but their tendency to break down at the worst of times was almost always inversely proportional to their sheer power output.
"You know, Shiver, I never took you for an octobrush user," he started, earning Shiver's attention. "Given your background I assumed you were a splatana user, kinda like me."
"Oh, this old thing?" Shiver hefted her octobrush. "It's a family heirloom. Though I do own a splatana wiper it's largely ceremonial. You see, the Carcharadon Clan has always prided itself on our poise and rigorous adherence to proper etiquette, a custom stretching all the way back from before the great flood. The octobrush serves as my people's will made manifest. In my hands it is as much a symbol as it is a weapon, one of elegance and unparalleled finesse."
"Mmhmm," Tres nodded. "So am I to assume you swing it around wildly like everyone else?" he snickered.
"Hmph," Shiver turned her nose. "I do not swing, Tres. I am no savage. I dance. Every precise turn of the wrist, every wide sweep of my arms, every turn of my body is done so with unwasted movement down the most minute angle. The world is my canvas, and the octobrush is my, er, brush. With it, I turn our chaotic turf wars into sublime works of art."
"Well, it's certainly an extraordinary piece," said Tres, noting the nicks and grooves worn into the wood. "You've been taking great care of it."
"Thank you. It used to belong to my mother before she passed it down to me, and her mother before her and her mother before her and so forth. The story goes that my ancestors carved it from a piece of petrified wood that had been carried ashore in the jaws of a giant megalodon. The first clan head saw it as a sign from the heavens and worked tirelessly for an entire year to create this marvelous work of art: the Octobrush Jaws," Shiver reminisced wistfully. "Now I am its wielder."
"Well, I think it couldn't have been entrusted to anyone more worthy," Tres smiled, causing Shiver to flush a light blue. "Though I'm curious, why didn't you use this against me when we first fought? Not that I don't respect your shark riding skills, mind you."
"Hmm, mayhaps I believed you unworthy of experiencing its magnificence," Shiver looked away, a smirk curling up her lips. "Mayhaps my opinion of your inking prowess has changed after our last bout. Mayhaps you are worthy now."
"Mayhaps you didn't bring it with you when you entered Alterna the first time around?" Tres raised a brow to which Shiver flinched at his guess.
"...Mayhaps I should change the subject," Shiver coughed.
"Waaaah," Little Buddy chirped.
"While we're on the topic of weapons, that's a rather unique splatana you got there," Shiver pointed to the ramshackle looking thing hanging by Tres's hip. "It's, er, certainly special looking."
"Ah, this piece of junk?" Tres chuckled. "Made it myself from an old stamper frame and a motor that I, um, procured from a hydra splatling. It's a liability and a half, that's what it is. Sure, it could splat your garden variety turfer in a single charge slash, but that's if'n it's willing to work when you need it. Dang thing's got a mind of its own sometimes but lately it's been good to me. Due to the persnickety nature of the weapon I've opted to call it: the Riot Stamper."
"How quaint," Shiver rolled her eyes. "But none of it downplays the fact that you've managed to assemble that thing out of miscellaneous junk, or that it works at all, crude as it is. Quite impressive for a humble trash trawler."
"I prefer the term: relic hunter," Tres sniffed.
"It does have an air of refinement to it, mister relic hunter," Shiver grinned cheekily.
"Thank you," he nods. "At least someone respects that."
Eventually the elevator stuttered to a stop, causing the ink from both Shiver and Tres to dip from their heads to their toes. They shuddered at the sensation, walking it off as the doors slid open with a loud ding sound.
The sub-labs of the Happiness Research Labs was an eerie place. The power was still running, and had been for upwards of five millenia now. A feminine voice from above spoke something unintelligible in the language of humans, possibly a greeting or even just an ordinary announcement. It was like listening to a ghost of the past eternally repeat its last message over and over again without fail.
They took tentative steps forward, weapons gripped tightly in their hands. Just then, a loud hiss startled Shiver as the score of nozzles along the entryway sprayed her with a cool cleansing mist. She yelped in surprise, stumbling back into Tres's arms as her panic quickly subsided. Once it was clear she was unharmed she looked over her shoulder, taking note of the smug smirk Tres had plastered on his humble visage. She quickly pushed herself away and smoothed out her shawl, shooting a glare at the boy as she did.
"Not. One. Word," She punctuated through gritted teeth.
"Heh, I didn't see anything," Tres kept smirking the whole time.
"Waaaah!" Little Buddy chuckled.
"That goes double for you, you little bottomless pit," Shiver pointed at the small fry, who looked away innocently.
They continued wandering down a long stretch of sterile looking corridors lined with walls of polished metal and floors of reflective stone. Computer monitors, television screens and more of the liquid crystal panels were present nearly everywhere they went, either broadcasting still life images of a world beyond their own, cartoonish animations with strange mascots or mundane information about the facilities.
It was like exploring an alien tomb. All around them were indefatigable evidence of humanity's existence; all their hyper advanced technology and bizarre paraphernalia as well as the foreboding sense of dread that seemed to permeate every corner of the labs.
It was sobering to think that they were walking around what could arguably be considered the source, the definitive origin of all Inklings and Octarians and possibly even other highly evolved marine life. There were large chemical vats nearby that were filled to the brim with a clear glimmering liquid, this concentrated formula of cephalopod material was the primordial ooze from which they owed their existence too.
Tres and Shiver couldn't stand to look at it any longer than they needed to for fear of losing their sanity. This was knowledge they were never meant to know, and so they ignored it as best they could, choosing to let the past stay where it should.
They exercised extreme caution when exploring, making sure not to touch anything that didn't need touching. For all they know the seemingly benign desk toy hanging by the table in the boardroom could in actuality be a deadly superweapon capable of wiping out entire cities. Okay, so maybe it was just an ordinary desk toy but they weren't going to take that chance. And yet, they couldn't help but be in awe at even the smallest doodad they could find.
"It's incredible," Shiver breathed, her fingers twitching in place. "All this valuable treasure, ripe for the taking."
"Don't even think about it," Tres warned. "We don't know what we're dealing with here. Besides, our mission is to search for clues, not plunder loot."
"Don't tell me you're not the slightest bit curious, mister relic hunter?" Shiver teased.
"I am curious, but if any of this stuff is capable of creating oddities like the fuzzy ooze then I don't want anything to do with it," he shuddered at the thought.
"I see your point," replied Shiver. "Which is why I've prepared a counterpoint," she casually picked up a cd-rom off to the side of her, dusting it off and presenting the glittering disc to Tres. "No one is going to miss some dusty old trinkets and baubles considering the people that used to be here are, you know, extinct."
"Shiver..." Tres flashed her a pointed stare.
"Alright, alright. Have it your way. Spoilsport," Shiver pouted as she set down the cd. Had she been able to read the faded writing on the disc she would've known it said, 'Calamari Incantation, Original Studio Demo - 2015 ver.'
Hours flew on by as they continued to sweep the premises, giving reports every so often. In the time since they've turned up nothing of importance drudging their way through the abandoned sub-labs picking through trash and other detritus. It was starting to feel like the trip would be a bust. Tres checked in with camp again, giving them the disappointing news about their search.
"Camp, this is 3. Yeah, this place is a mess. We haven't found anything yet, apart from all the creepy human junk," said Tres. "It's starting to look like we traveled this far for nothing."
"*BZZT!* This is the Captain. Keep trying for just a little longer. You might need to finagle around with some of the equipment to find what we're looking for. I know it's dangerous but I trust you two enough to get it done." Kuki responded. "If nothing turns up then you and, eugh," she groaned, "Sapphire Shark can head on back. Captain out."
Tres sighed as he pulled his finger away from the headset. He had hoped they didn't have to screw around with any of the dangerous equipment but the gamble just might be worth it. He'd only hoped he didn't trigger some kind of latent defense system and invite trouble, or, cod forbid, activate some kind of self-destruct switch.
"So, what's the plan? Do we leave or do we keep searching this squalid sector?" Shiver asked, leaning against the wall as she played around with her tentacle.
"Captain says we should give it one last college try. If we can't find anything by then we can bail," replied Tres. "We should try being more thorough this time, unfortunately that means messing around with the human machines."
"Fun," Shiver rolled her eyes. "But, if that's what it takes we might as well get it over with. I can't wait to put this place behind us."
Their search brought them to one lab in particular, a biochemical research department that looked like it had been struck by an earthquake. There were many crates, barrels, pieces of equipment and machinery toppled over or stacked atop one another in a cluttered heap. Most were broken though there were still a few intact and capable of functioning. If there was something worth looting, it'd be here.
"I thought I saw what looked like a vault back there," said Shiver, gesturing to the mountainous heap in front of them. "If we can get past all that I could take a peek inside."
"Looks like some of the equipment still works," He pointed to one of the many loader arms around the department. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked, a glint of excitement twinkling in his eyes.
Shiver chuckled at his sudden burst of enthusiasm. "You boys and your toys. Get on, I'll guide you from over here."
"You got it, boss lady," Tres quickly ran over to the controls of the loader arms and got a feel for the controls. There was a joystick, a lever and two buttons. The joystick controlled its up, down and side to side movement, the lever allowed it to move forwards and back, and the buttons let it close or open the clamps. It was so simple a child could use it. Or in this case, an Inkling. "Okay, so let's see here. If I do this..."
Tres nudged the joystick slightly to the left, the loader arm jerked wildly to the side and slammed into a set of empty barrels, scattering them across the room as they clattered noisily along the floor.
"Whoop!" he flushed bright yellow. "Heh heh, I, er, didn't mean to do that." His embarrassment was interrupted by the sound of slow clapping coming from Shiver.
"Bravo, Tres. Very skillful," Shiver crowed.
"Hey! It's harder than it looks!" He shouted, frowning. Burying his chagrin he started to slowly move away all the junk blocking the vault under Shiver's guidance. Before long they have swept away a clear path, wide enough to give them room to attempt to access the vault. "There, that wasn't so hard." He hopped off, mindful of the mess he made and joined Shiver at the vault entrance. "Now, what secret are you keeping from us, metal friend?"
They looked over the vault. It was a massive thing, as big as a room with a door made of metal several inches thick fitted with a digital lock. They would need a code to open it up, or failing that, enough dynamite to blow up the western hemisphere.
"Ha! Stand back and watch the master at work," Shiver boasted, twirling her fan around before replacing it with a set of lockpicks in a masterful display of sleight of hand. "Observe."
"Wait, the lock's digital. How are you going to-" a series of interlinking clicks emanating from the vault shut Tres up. He stared on in wonder, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Shiver relished that look of his, he looked so cute when he was the one being left dumbfounded. "How did you..?"
"Shh..." Shiver placed a finger gingerly over her lips. "A girl has her secrets."
"Uh huh," he nodded dumbly. "Maybe you should have the honors of looting it."
"A squid after my own heart," Shiver hummed, flicking her tentacle as she entered the vault.
She peered through the many shelves and racks within, examining their contents with mild interests. There were boxes full of decrepit papers she couldn't read and vials full of colorful liquids, expired chemicals more than likely. Along the back wall there was also a curious looking chrome metallic strip engraved with strange symbols roughly the size of her thumb sitting underneath a glass box.
"What should I be looking for exactly?" She shouted.
"Anything important, anything that could help us with the investigation," said Tres.
"Oh yes, that really narrows it down," Shiver deadpanned.
"I dunno. Trust your bandit sense or something," Tres shrugged.
"Well, my bandit sense is telling me this weird looking thing way in the back is worth pilfering," Shiver lifted the glass box and snatched the odd looking metal strip, thumbing it curiously before turning back to Tres, completely unaware that she had accidentally brushed past a flask full of caustic chemicals, sliding it into a precarious position. "I dunno what it is, but if they stuck it in a vault it has to be important."
"Hmm," Tres examined the strip, recognition flaring in his eyes. "That looks like another one of the Alterna logs!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what it was doing here but what matters is it's in our hands. This is perfect. Shiver, you've done it you brilliant bandit you!"
Shiver swooned at his words, bringing a hand up to hide the blush on her cheek. "Such praise! But this is not a surprise. I always deliver."
"We're not outta the woods yet. We still gotta get this thing back to-" Tres was interrupted as the sound of shattering glass echoed behind Shiver. They both cringed at the sound, turning over to the source of the noise to find a broken flask spilling a sickly green fluid along the floor of the vault. A hissing sound filled the air shortly after. Steam wafted off the surface of the green fluid, filling their nostrils with a revolting scent of vinegar and battery acid.
The fluid burned a hole through the floor and through the supports of the racks. Enough to cause it to lose its integrity and topple over, breaking more flasks and mixing the various volatile chemicals held within. The chain reaction was swift and violent, resulting in a bubbling black mass emanating a foul smelling fog that spilled out into the facility. Normally, this gas would be hazardous to humans, but Inklings and Octolings were more resistant to these types of poisons.
"That's not good," Tres grimaced, covering his mouth with his free hand.
"It..." Shiver gulped. "It can't be that bad, right?"
Just then, the emergency lights in the labs activated, flickering to life with psychopathic red flashes and a loud blaring siren. The same voice from before spoke again, this time repeating a warning. The various computers and television screens switched over to a bright yellow hazard symbol, urging those present to follow the designated route out of the labs and towards the safety of the higher levels.
Shiver cursed in Octarian beneath her breath. She couldn't believe she had been so careless. She opened her mouth to say something, but didn't get the chance to as Tres suddenly tackled into her shouting,
"Shiver, look out!"
"Waaah!" Little Buddy screamed.
Shiver screwed her eyes shut as she was thrown to the side, sliding to a stop against a pile of junk as Tres laid on top of her. She could feel him atop her, and something else; something cold and moist. Opening her eyes she came face to face with Tres, his own expression one of deep pain with one eye shut as he chewed on his bottom lip.
"Tres, wha- Guh!" Shiver choked on her words, her eye trailing along the length of his right arm, or lack thereof.
The sleeve of his jacket hung limply to the side dripping with watery yellow ink. She looked up and noticed a vent overhead spilling with water and she put two and two together. Tres had just knocked her out of harm's ways, losing his right arm in the process. The pained look upon his visage made her hearts sink into the pit of her stomach and she could feel panic rise up from within.
"T-Tres, your arm!" She cried as tears threatened to spill forth, cradling him as she helped him to his feet.
"Grr... M'fine! It'll grow back in a day," Tres grunted, his breathing erratic. "What about you, still in one piece?"
Shiver checked herself, thankfully she was still whole, courtesy of Tres and his heroism. "Yeah..." she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. T-thank you."
"Don't mention it," he groaned. "What about the strip? Do you still have the strip?"
Shiver clumsily fumbled with her hands before pulling out the metallic strip and showing it to him. "I-it's right here. Safe and sound."
"G-good, that's good... Hold on to that. We can't leave empty handed," Tres pulled away from Shiver, righting himself as he steadied his breathing. He rolled his shoulders, feeling sensations of a phantom limb that prickled at the nerves of his wet stump of an arm. "I think the facility is set to flood the building in the event of a dangerous chemical spill. It's going to decontaminate everything, that includes us! We need to leave. Now!"
"I've got an idea," said Shiver, steeling herself. She changed her coloration from a deep blue to one of a bright golden yellow. She gripped her octobrush in both arms and started to paint a long trail of ink along the floor, deftly avoiding the piles of trash and puddles of water from the labs. "Follow my lead!"
Tres didn't think twice before he assumed his squid form and dove into the ink, Little Buddy riding atop of him like a tiny salmonid cowboy. He swam with all his might as he followed Shiver to the elevator, watching as she effortlessly weaved her way across the messy hallways and desolate foyers with all the focus and coolheadedness she prided herself with. Each move she made was calculated, one misstep could result in them losing both speed and distance.
Behind them the spine chilling roar of rushing water could be heard churning and gurgling like a starving beast. It rumbled throughout the walls and pipes overhead, the noise serving as a motivator to pick up the pace.
"There! The elevator, it's still accessible!" Shiver yelled. "Get in!"
"Coming through!" Tres surged along, leaping out of the ink at the last second as he, Shiver and Little Buddy all crammed into the elevator like a pack of clumsy Octarian grunts.
Shiver propped her octobrush up against the side of the elevator and operated the panel, angrily slamming her fist against it when it wouldn't work.
"Grr... Work you infernal thing! Work!" Shiver growled. Her patiences was hanging by a thread and the water threatening to dissolve her and Tres didn't help matters. She input some more random code, growing more and more frustrated each time the panel beeped back at her with a red flash of denial. She quickly looked out into the foyer, pupils shrinking to pinpricks as the rush of water began flooding in. "Come on! Come on!"
"Waaaah!" Just then, Little Buddy hopped up on her shoulder and threw himself at the panel with a wet smack, leaving behind a smear of green gunk behind as he did. This seemed to have done the trick as the panel recognized the action and caused the elevator to whir to life. The doors closed and sealed itself off just as the water started to seep in by their feet. With a nauseous jerk, the elevator began its slow ascent back to the surface.
"Heh," Tres smiled weakly, his face pale and wan as he rested up against the side of the elevator wall. "That'll do, Little Buddy. That'll do."
Shiver couldn't help but smile at the salmonid. She patted him on the head, eliciting a chirp of delight from him. She then fell back against the wall, sliding down as exhaustion finally took over. Apart from the grating muzak playing overhead they were mostly quiet for the remainder of the ride back.
Shiver sighed heavily, unable to bring herself to look at Tres. He was the way he was because of her. If she had been more careful he wouldn't have needed to tackle her to safety, then he would still have his right arm. It would grow back after some time but he should have never lost it in the first place. The worst of it was that she knew he was the kind of guy who wouldn't blame her for it. He merely did what he thought was right, and that just made her feel even worse. As she stewed in her funk he called out to her.
"Hey..." Tres spoke, catching Shiver's attention. She braced herself for the worse, screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, expecting him to chew her out for making a mess of everything. What came next took her completely by surprise. "...You look great in yellow."
The response caught her off guard. She grabbed at her tentacle, noticing that it was still yellow from before. She sighed in relief, smiling softly as she reverted back to her natural blue coloring.
He really was an earnest goof.
The false sky was a welcomed sight for Shiver and Tres. They felt a great weight lifted from their shoulders as they stepped back onto the roof of site 6's tallest building. They took a deep breath of the cool musty air of Alterna, savoring it greedily as if it would all vanish in an instant. Satisfied and stabilized Tres pressed a finger on his headset again, listening as the comms blared to life.
"Camp, this is Agent 3. Come in camp," Tres huffed, impatiently tapping his foot. "Come on, somebody talk to me."
"*BZZT!* This is Agent 1, we read you loud and clear, 3," replied Callie. "3, why do you sound so hoarse?"
"I lost an arm in the labs, but Sapphire Shark and I managed to find-"
"WHAT?!" Callie screamed in his ear. "Are you alright?! Should we send a medical dispatch over to you? Hang on, I'm sending a medical dispatch over to you, what's your location?!"
"Gah! Relax, I'm fine!" Tres grumbled. "It's just a flesh wound, it'll grow back. Sheesh, you make it sound like I got both arms dissolved. Ahem, as I was saying, Sapphire Shark and I managed to find another one of the Alterna logs. This one looks pretty special compared to the others. I don't know what it means but what matters is we got it secured. We're returning to camp now, we'll see you soon."
"...If you insist," Callie conceded. "We'll be patiently awaiting your arrival. Congratulations on your discovery, by the way. Just don't push yourself too hard. We'll have an ink tank prepared for you when you get back."
"Much obliged, 1. Agent 3, out," Tres concluded as he turned over to Shiver. "Alright, Shiver. Let's get out of here- Dah!" he winced as she smacked him over the head with her fan. "What the heck was that for?!"
"Don't you ever scare me like that ever again, do you hear me?!" Shiver snarled, getting up in his face. Her visage was twisted into an expression of barely repressed fury, he could feel the indignation emanating from her ruby red eyes bore into his soul. Tres was taken aback by her sudden outburst but he could make out the small glimmer of worry flickering from behind her mask of rage.
"Heh," Tres cracked a sheepish grin, subconsciously taking a step back. "No promises. Stick around with me long enough and you'll find I'm full of bad ideas."
"Hmph," Shiver turned away, her expression softening. She then sidled up beside him and looped his remaining arm over her shoulder, all without looking him in the eye. She held him tightly, ignoring his cries of protest out of the irrational fear that if she let him go the rest of him would dissolve into nothingness. "I don't care if you can walk just fine, I'm helping you and that's that. You got that, mister relic hunter?" she shot him a pointed look.
"Eh, y-yeah. I got it, boss lady," Tres chuckled dryly.
The trek back to camp took a fair bit of time. Riding the ink rails was an awkward experience the way they were but they somehow managed just fine on their own, And in spite of Tres hanging at her side, Shiver couldn't help but feel lighter than air the whole way through...
Shiver stirred in her sleep, blinking her eyes open as the light of the morning sun tickled her cheeks. Groggily she rose from her bed, grumbling something unintelligible beneath her breath as she rubbed away the sleep from her eyes.
The dream. It was a memory of her time with Tres exploring Alterna, around three months ago to be specific. Their harrowing escapades in the Happiness Research Labs marked the moment she truly fell in love with him, not because he had saved her, but because he had stolen her heart with his strength of character. The thought only soured her morning mood as she recalled the events of the day prior and the situation she found herself in now.
Sighing heavily she rose out of bed and began her morning ritual, the thought of the Sucking still haunting her like a foul spectre. The accident replayed itself in her with perfect clarity, such was the curse of having such immaculate memory. It was a mortifying experience, one she prayed didn't destroy whatever relationship they had left, let alone the possibility of a budding romance.
Shiver didn't know what the days ahead had in store for her but she refused to let herself be conquered by her own fears and mistakes.
She was determined to set things right, and that starts with regaining her steely confidence.
Sharks always move forward, and so will she.