It was early morning in the city of Splatsville.

A new day for everyone full of opportunity.

Shiver had just finished preparing for the day; brushed her teeth precisely fifty times per row in short single stroke increments, bathed in ink heated to the perfect temperature of exactly ninety-nine degrees fahrenheit, and styled her tentacle in a way that followed the golden ratio. After dressing herself she wandered out of her humble isolated abode and into the spacious courtyard with her octobrush in hand where she began to practice breathing exercises.

Slow and steady she breathed, letting the tension ease away from her limbs as she found her center. The world was in balance, there was nothing else beyond her little bubble and the brush in her hands that would distract her from her task. When she was all psyched up, she hefted her octobrush and expertly twirled it around with serene grace before painting her name upon the white stone flooring of the courtyard.

The ancient art of calligraphy may be considered a relic of the past these days but to the Carcharodon Clan it was a sacred tradition that was integral to their core identity. It was how they could best express themselves; the art emphasized things such as discipline, focus and manual dexterity among others. Each member was expected to familiarize themselves in the ways of the brush and Shiver was no different.

Each stroke of the brush was done so with smooth elegant motion. Shiver carried herself as though she were dancing in a hypnotic trance, there was only the brush and the ink as her body moved to the rhythm of her own steady heartbeat.

She ended her display with a dramatic flourish, twirling the brush around before returning to the spot she began as she exhaled deeply.

The simple act of writing her name was a therapeutic one, she always fell back upon familiar routines to help ease her worry. In the past it has worked wonders for the days when she wasn't feeling quite like herself.

Yet, as she gazed upon her own name upon the stone, all she could feel was aggravation.

She had written her name in her native Octarian as she had done time and time again. Similar to the spoken language, the written alphabet was an assortment of characters with an emphasis on solid angular lines and shapes and less organic overlapping curves of the Inkling alphabet.

When done correctly, the calligraphist would have turned something as mundane as a name into an extraordinary work of art, otherwise the result would be no less special than a name printed on a library card.

In Shiver's case her writing was legible, anyone reading could make it out. They would also notice all of the small imperfections that kept it from truly being perfect.

Along certain areas more pressure on the brush was applied than necessary, causing it to look misshapen and bloated. On others there wasn't enough pressure, causing the brush to slip and splatter ink messily along the side. Overall it looked very rough, like the handwriting of a grade schooler still mastering the ways of penmanship.

This was not the name of someone with mental clarity and confidence, but rather an individual plagued with self-doubt and muddiness.

Frowning, Shiver waited for the ink to evaporate before trying again. Her second attempt was no different, as was the third, and the fourth and so on. Each subsequent attempt and the mounting frustration that followed proved more and more difficult for her to keep a cool head. The mistakes became more obvious, more pronounced the longer she persisted. In the end the results were all the same; a name that radiated enmity.

After the tenth try she finally relented and stopped, setting down her octobrush and seating herself by the patio, her head hung dejectedly.

"Rough morning?" A voice from above startled Shiver. She looked up and saw Frye's mischievous visage beaming down on her. She hung upside down from the awning like a bat, dangling by the bridge of her feet before flipping around and seating herself cross-legged next to her best friend. "You know, I was watching you practice your calligraphy. I've never seen you make that many mistakes like that before. You wanna talk about it?"

"...It's nothing, Frye," Shiver sighed. She knew the answer wouldn't be enough to sate Frye's curiosities but she was too distraught to think beyond that.

"It doesn't feel like nothing," Frye frowned, observing her friend's crestfallen expression. "Listen, Marina explained everything yesterday. Except, not really. She gave us the runaround, pretended her own outburst didn't happen while telling us the reason for your little episode the other day was because of stress of all things. Heh, could you believe it?"

Shiver scoffed. "And why exactly is that so hard to believe? I'm allowed to have my... less than appropriate moments. I'm not infallible."

"I don't know what that word means but I do know that this isn't you," Frye countered, crossing her arms. "Stress or no stress the Shiver I know doesn't freak, maybe fizzles or fumes, but definitely not freak." She raised a brow, meeting Shiver's gaze. "What's going on with you? You're not acting like yourself."

"M'fine. Nothing's wrong with me," Shiver mumbled.

"Your calligraphy begs to differ," Frye sharply retorted, causing Shiver to flinch at the mention. "And if that's out of whack, I wonder what else about you is?"

"Frye..." Shiver was beginning to lose her patience. Only it was not anger that bubbled beneath the surface, but desperation. "You're my best friend. I love you like you were my own sister, but please, just let it go. This is my anchor to bear..." She trailed off.

Frye's expression hardened. Hearing such words come out of her bestie's mouth made her knit her brow in annoyance. "Shiver, as your sister of another species I can't sit idly by as you wallow in your own self pity, moping around like some sniveling whelp. Now, I don't know why you and Marina freaked out like you did but you need to get a grip and snap out of it!"

She stood up and pulled Shiver up to her level, making sure they maintained eye contact with one another. "We're Deep Cut. We look out for our own and I'm here to get you back in the game!" She proclaimed, her voice charged and eyes full of fire. "Shiver, there's no one else I know as fierce and as unyielding as you, except maybe me! Think of all everything we've done together; you, me and Big Man! Are you just gonna let this funk beat you!"

"No, it's-!" Shiver protested but was spoken over by Frye's passionate pep talk.

"I'm not finished! I've thought long and hard about this empowering speech, like for a whole hour, maybe even two, and I'm going to say all of it!" Frye then smiled the biggest smile she could give. It shone like gentle sunlight, so warm and full of love. It was enough to break through the shell Shiver had retreated herself into, if a little. "Please! Don't be so disheartened! It will get better and we're all here for you! Don't act like the world is ending because we stopped it from happening! We saved the world!"

Shiver's lips quivered the more she listened. Frye was trying her hardest to make her feel better and she couldn't help but want to be better in return. Her outrageous methods were working but it wasn't enough. There was still an unknown factor to all this that kept her from succeeding. Something she didn't, couldn't, know that made Shiver's dilemma all the more troublesome than it already was.

"I... It's complicated," Shiver replied lamely, shutting her eyes.

"And that's okay," Frye lowered her voice, taking on a more considerate tone. "I probably can't fix this in a day, and I certainly can't force you to stop being sad, but at the very least I can get the ball rolling. And besides, I doubt your rival would want to see you like this." Whether it was intentional or not, likely the latter, Frye had gotten quite the reaction from Shiver who had tensed up at the indirect mention of Tres.

Her eyes shot open. A flash flood of irrational thoughts filled her head like the rising tides, born of her inner Octarian shame. However unlikely it may be, her mind wouldn't stop playing out the myriad of worst case scenarios like a bad clip show.

She pictured him, the boy whose love she coveted, glaring at her from afar with disdain behind his eyes, his humble and warm visage warped into a mask of contempt.

In one scenario he simply turned his back and walked away, never to be seen again. In another he acted like she didn't exist, treating her presence like an inconsequential fixture of the environment. The rest were all the same with minor degrees in variance; Tres expressing vitriol, enmity and more to her face as she quietly stood by and received the punishment she believed she deserved for wronging him.

But even as her mind tormented her, a small but defiant part of her challenged the dreadful doubt; a dim flickering light amidst the ebon flood, a sixth magnitude star. That lingering faraway hope, paired with Frye's unbridled energy, gave her the strength she needed to push past her moodiness.

"No, he wouldn't," Shiver whispered. She sighed heavily, brushing a hand along her tentacle. "He knows I'm better than this."

"Darn right he does!" Frye bellowed jovially. "He'd want you to be at your best. And you should want yourself at your best too. It's a win-win deal!"

"You make it sound so easy..." Shiver chuckled softly, feeling a bit of her humor come back. "Are you finished?"

Frye shrugged. "Just about. Did it help?"

"A little," Shiver crossed her arms. "Frye, I appreciate you dropping by and checking up on me. I really do. But..."

"But?" Frye tilted her head to the side.

"...N-nevermind, it's not important," Shiver shook her head, forcing her insecurities back down.

"Well, as long as you're feeling better, I'd say my impromptu visit has been a rousing success. When you're at the bottom, the only other way is up!" Frye flashed her a wink and a confident blue thumbs up. "Now that I've brightened your mood, can I trust that you're able to perform on the Splatcast today?"

"I hadn't planned on skipping out on it," replied Shiver, a wry smile curling on her lips. "Otherwise our dear audience would wonder, where o' where is our beloved Shiver?" She rested the back of her hand over her head and leaned back in an exaggerated manner, mimicking a swooning maiden. "They might panic at my sudden disappearance and become so distressed we'll lose out on our viewer count."

"Ah, so melodramatic," Frye stifled a chuckle. "I guess I'll see you at the studio in a few hours then. Oh! And don't forget about the Q&A session near the end. Folks will probably be asking us about Seven Day Forecast so boss Marie gave us a list of things we could talk about and things that need to be kept under wraps." She took out her flip phone and sent Shiver the details. "Make sure to read it over. Can't be giving away all the juicy bits so early on now, can we?"

"I'll be sure to read it," replied Shiver, waving off Frye as she departed from her home. "See you guys in a few."

"Back at you!" Frye bid farewell. "I hope you get better, Shiv! I hate seeing you so sad!"

When Frye was out of view Shiver released all the pent up tension in her body and sank to the floor, melting away into her octopus form and basking in the morning light. Staring up at the sky she pondered to herself how to proceed.

She couldn't face Tres, not yet at least. She'll go about her life as she usually did, doing her best to bury the incident however and whenever she can. By then normalcy should return and all will be right again, before the suckling. When that time comes, hopefully she can make amends for the trouble she caused.

Deep in the heart of Splatsville was a part of the city known as the Reefs, a small but bustling district brimming with burgeoning businesses and exciting venues that had undergone gentrification only a few years earlier. Though shades of the past still show through in the form of crass graffiti and a plethora of hole in the wall establishments it was clear from the bright neon lights, exclusive clubs and extravagant homes that this was a place for the wealthy and the well off.

Nestled in between all of that was a mansion; a monolithic modernist three tiered building overlooking the picturesque hillside. It was Pearl's newly purchased summer getaway home, on paper at least, and it acted as the New Squidbeak Splatoon's base of operations out in the Splatlands.

The mansion itself came with all the luxuries one would associate with such an expensive piece of real estate as well as a few extra amenities Pearl had personally installed; such as a private recording studio, an indoor turf range and a massive walk-in freezer stocked with every flavor of ice cream imaginable.

You know, the essentials.

With the exception of Pearl and 8, who were out on a very important lunch run, the rest of the NSS were currently gathered at the mansion's exceedingly spacious garage turned mission control hub.

Apart from the vehicles parked nearby; Marie's truck, Marina's custom built motorcycle and Tres's rusty junk hauler just to name a few, there were also computer monitors, television screens and even a few game consoles set up around the odd corner here and there to help facilitate their investigation of Alterna. An eclectic collection of furniture ranging from tables and chairs dotted the space in no particular order, rounding out the base in a more casual fashion.

It was far from the cutting edge and sophisticated setup it could've been with their resources but no one was complaining about the slapdash layout.

Quattro was seated by the plush loveseat in front of the tv, his feet kicked up on the coffee table.

In his hands was a weekly tabloid with the headlines 'I married a Salmonid!' emblazoned atop the front page. An image of an Inkling woman dressed in a beautiful pink wedding dress and a Salmonid Chum wearing a snappy tuxedo surrounded by a heart was on the cover, making for quite the queer sight. He flipped through a few pages, a sensible chuckle escaping from his lips every so often.

Sitting beside him was Marie. Her nose was buried in the latest issue of Splatandian Sounds, Splatsville's premiere music magazine. Though she was only pretending to be reading, hiding the soft smile on her lips behind the pages. She had already read through it earlier and was using it as a clever excuse to be close to Quattro.

Her eyes would dart up from the page and over to his face whenever he'd laugh. And when she would shuffle to get comfy she would incrementally scoot over closer to him, taking care not to be too suspicious with her actions.

On the other end of the garage Callie and Captain Kuki could be seen absentmindedly playing around with their phones while Marina was hanging out with Tres by the workbenches. Marina had been interested in seeing Tres's engineering skills for some time now and judging by the stroke-like expression dancing about her visage it would appear that the conversation was not going how she had expected it to.

"And this spinny thingamajig here is attached to this blinking doohickey. After tuning the mechanisms a smidge and adjusting the whatsamawhosit about six farkles to the right and three quixises to the left it worked like a charm," Tres explained, gesturing to the inner workings of his Riot Stamper. "It took a bit of finagling and a lot of duct tape but it hasn't blown up in my face yet so I have to be doing something right."

"I-I see," Marina muttered weakly, a grim smile on her face and her left eye twitching uncontrollably. She was screaming internally, seeing such a horrid contraption cut her down to her very soul. It just didn't make a lick of sense. There were wires stuck in places where there shouldn't be wires and pointless mechanisms that exist to contribute absolutely nothing to the build. It was an affront to everything she believed in. "...And this is legal for use in Turf Wars?"

"Just about," Tres shrugged. "The committee checks all scratch-built weaponry regularly to ensure they aren't too overpowered for competitive balance. They're very thorough about it."

"How interesting..." she mumbled absently, still fixated on the weapon. As bad as it was she couldn't help but be deeply fascinated by it, a fascination of the abomination. There had to be some method behind Tres's madness if his Riot Stamper could work the way it did. "Eh?" She raised a brow. "What's this?" She pointed to the hydra splatling engine that powered the stamper chain, it had been painted bright red. "Tres, did you... Did you paint the engine red?"

"Yup," Tres sniffed.

"...Why?" she gaped.

"Uh, because red things go faster. Duh," Tres replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "How do you think I managed to get more juice out of the engine? Come on, Marina. This is a basic application of practical engineering color theory, not rocket science."

"There's no such thing as- Mmm!" Marina swiftly clamped her hands over her mouth, stopping her outburst short. She usually never got this peeved so quickly, let alone over something so trivial. And Tres was far from stupid if he could build a working weapon out of discarded junk. But there was no way he could possibly believe that painting something in a specific color could grant it some sort of special effect.

This was Pearl disbelieving the existence of narwhals all over again, and it was enough to make her pull at her tentacles in quiet frustration.

Thankfully, before she could be baffled any further by Tres's Frankenstein creation and the logic that went into it, Pearl and 8 entered the garage with several boxes of food in tow. The tantalizing smell of fried seafood and grilled poultry wafted through the air, drawing everyone's attention to the pair.

"What's up, boys and grills! Me and 8 are back with the goods," Pearl bellowed, setting down the boxes down on the coffee table. "Pop-pop on over and chow down, the Splatcast is about to start."

Everyone congregated by the tv, settling down on the bevy of chairs available and reached for the food.

"Awfully generous of you to do a lunch run for us, Pearl" Captain Kuki said. As she opened up one of the boxes however her smile faded away into a blank stare. "...You shouldn't have."

"Aw, come on. Don't say that, Kuki," Pearl chuckled jovially as she leaned into her seat. "You're all my guests and I won't let it be said that I am not a gracious host."

"I mean you really shouldn't have..." Kuki picked up one of the fish sandwiches out of the box and held it up, it was shaped just like Pearl's head. In fact, all the food Pearl bought were made in her likeness. From the fish sandwiches and chicken wraps to the sweet bean buns and chiffon cakes, they all looked like Pearl right down to her beauty mark and signature crown. "Now we know why you were so eager to get food for us."

"What can I say, Splatsville loves me," Pearl grinned cheekily as she took a bite out of her wrap. "Mmm... I taste delicious."

"She really does," said 8, his expression full of delight.

The team chowed down without complaint, engaging in small talk amongst themselves as they waited for Deep Cut's Splatcast to begin.

"Hey, Quattro. Did you hear?" Marie began. "Diss-Pair is suing itself."

"Again?" Quattro raised a brow, his mouth full of food. "What are Ikkan and Warabi suing themselves for this time?"

"According to the article, IP theft," Marie chuckled. She was about to take another bite from her wrap when she noticed that there was some sauce on the corner of his mouth. Almost instinctively, she pulled out a handkerchief and reached for him. "Hey, Quattro, hold still for a bit."

"Hmm?" Quattro did as he was told and remained still. Marie leaned over and gingerly dabbed away the offending mark that stained his adorable face.

"There we go, all nice and sparkly," Marie smiled.

"Heh. Thanks, Marie," Quattro smiled back. "You're always looking out for me."

"Hmm, and you're still the cleanest out of all of us. Kuki could learn a thing or from you about personal hygiene," Marie quipped.

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Kuki grumbled in between bites, shooting a glare at Marie. "I'll have you know that I've been bathing more often ever since I got promoted, two to three times, in fact. After all, I have to maintain my brave and inspiring image as captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon."

"Wow, finally embracing the world of cleanliness. I'm impressed, Kuki," Marie whistled, only to raise her brow in confusion immediately after. "Wait, when you say two to three times do you mean on a weekly basis?"

"...People bathe that often?!" Kuki exclaimed, her expression one of pure shock.

"Yes, they do!" Marie and Quattro both shouted in unison. Soon after the trio were wrapped up in an argument about the overall importance of maintaining one's own hygiene.

Meanwhile, Marina was busy regaling Pearl about the enigma that is Tres's Riot Stamper.

"I'm telling you, Pearl!" Marina whispered loudly, bewilderment twinkling in her eyes. "It just doesn't make any sense!"

"Marina, is Neo-3's rickety stamper so important to you that we can't enjoy eating foodstuffs made to look in the immaculate image of my unfathomably awesome face?" Pearl queried, casually munching on her sandwich. "I mean, come on, they got my beauty mark and everything. It's like looking in a mirror, a very breathtaking and delicious mirror that's low in fat and high on flavor."

"It is!" Marina huffed, throwing her hands up. "I don't know how he did it but Tres had somehow managed to build a fully functional splatana by simply cramming miscellaneous junk together!"

"Okay, this may come off as ignorant on my part, but don't you technically, and these are your words, not mine, cram miscellaneous junk together too?"

"Yes! I mean, no!" Marina sputtered, looking crossed. "Look, when I do it, the end product is functional and elegant. It serves its purpose, doing so with style and a level of consistent efficiency that everyone can appreciate. Tres's stamper is an eldritch amalgamation of random bits and pieces held together by figurative spit, duct tape and the will of a darker power. It's-it's engineering witchcraft! Mechanical black magic! It just... works."

"Oh, come on. You're overexaggerating," Pearl deadpanned, sipping on her drink.

"He painted the engine red because he believed it would make it go faster!" Marina strained, feverishly tugging at her tentacle. "There was a sticky note on the inside with the words 'wires' written on it stuck between two unconnected power nodes! There has to be some kind of secret to his weapon! Something! Anything!?"

"Heh," Pearl smirked, the wheels of mischief in her head began to turn. "Maybe we don't know Neo-3 like we think we do. Tres could secretly be some kind of mechanical savant, gifted in ways not even you are capable of. Perhaps he was testing to see if you could comprehend his ways, the way of the machine whisperer. After all, only the ignorant fear what they do not understand." She turned away, hand clamped over her mouth, resisting the urge to burst out into raucous laughter as a glimmer of realization flashed upon Marina's visage.

"Hold on, now. I think you might be onto something, Pearlie," Marina replied, curiosity gracing her features.

"...I am?" Pearl's gaze snapped back to her friend, her playful smirk fading away. "Rina' it was just a joke-"

"Of course, that has to be it," Marina reasoned, placing a finger beneath her chin. She found herself in deep thought, rationalizing everything Pearl had just said. "Yes. Yes! I was merely incapable of understanding his unique methodology. I've been so entrenched in conventional wisdom that I completely disregarded his seemingly backwards logic as flim flam. He's clearly thinking on a level beyond our own, seeing the unseen as it were, and is unable to properly articulate that knowledge in a way that could be easily digested."

"Er, yeah. Sure. That's exactly it," Pearl coughed, eyes awkwardly darting back and forth. "Listen. Marina. You're not going to make this a thing, are you-?"

"I'll have to have another chat with Tres again when I have the chance," Marina furrowed her brow, lost in her own little world. "There's more to him than meets the eye."

"Aaaaaaand, she's ignoring me. Fantastic. No, I'm thrilled to be brushed aside like this. Can't get enough of this feeling, yes sir," Pearl grumbled, rolling her eyes. "This better not come back to bite us in the butt," she muttered beneath her breath before flicking her eyes over to the tv. The telltale jingle of the Anarchy Splatcast chimed in as Deep Cut's logo flashed on screen, signaling the start of the news. "About frickin' time."

On the opposite end of the seating arrangements was Tres, Little Buddy and Callie all cozied up against the sofa.

Tres was busy feeding Little Buddy, watching the little goober happily munch on the wraps and sandwiches with the rapacious appetite of a hungry predator when the jingle drew his attention to the television. He leaned back into his seat and watched the Splatcast, his attention almost immediately drawn to Shiver.

His features soften at the sight of her and he felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. Seeing her casually gab away at the Splatcast with Frye and Big Man was nothing new to anyone in Splatsville, but her smiling face and sharp witted manner of speaking was enough to make him feel like all was right in the world, especially after her terror-filled outburst the day before. He didn't even know he was smiling like an idiot until Callie pointed it out to him.

"You're looking awfully happy, Tres. Thinking about something... Or someone?" Callie smirked, giggling as Tres scrambled to compose himself.

Years of watching cheesy low budget soaps operas and blockbuster romance films have trained her observational skills to pick out the smallest hint of budding affection in people. It may not have been immediately obvious to anyone nearby but she could tell his eyes were unconsciously glued to Shiver. That only reinforced her theory that Tres liked her back, or at the very least had some spark of affection for her.

Meddling in the love lives of others may have been frowned upon, and if Marie ever found out what she was up to she'd no doubt get an earful from her, but as a champion of true love she couldn't stand by when the red thread of fate becomes tangled. In spite of unforeseen consequences she was determined to unravel the thread so that these two fated lovers may find themselves in each other's embrace, schmaltzy as it sounded.

Tres flushed bright yellow and brought up his hands in a poor attempt to shield his glowing features from Callie. "T-the food was just really good today. Probably because it was shaped like Pearl."

"Ha! You all heard that! Food tastes better when it looks like me!" Pearl guffawed, earning more than her fair share of eye rolls from her peers.

Shaking her head disapprovingly, Callie returned to her chat with Tres. "Hey, you know, about yesterday. That whole debacle with Shiver..."

"You don't have to beat around the bushes, Callie. I was there," Tres deadpanned as Little Buddy hopped up and snuggled into his lap.

"Right, right," Callie chuckled sheepishly. "Have you thought about talking to her? She seemed really out of it yesterday. She may look better now but that's only because she has to smile for the camera. I know what that's like..." Her expression turned solemn briefly before returning to her usual chipper attitude. "Which is why I think it would be a good idea for you to speak to her about it. You know, clear the air and what not."

Tres mulled on Callie's suggestion. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it. He wanted nothing more than to understand what went wrong and mend the bridge between them, because deep down he truly cared for Shiver.

A lot more than he could simply rationalize as 'just really good friends.'

But Marina's words still echoed in his mind.

"...What happened between you and Shiver wasn't your fault. It was all circumstance and you're not to blame... I'm not trying to sound harsh, but you should probably avoid her for a while... She's working something out and needs a bit of space..."

"...I can't," Tres replied in a resigned tone, causing Callie to recoil in shock. Curious, he'd assumed her dramatic reaction was merely over exaggeration. Unbeknownst to him she had misunderstood his words, believing it to be more than simply respecting one's wishes.

"...C-could it be? The immense shock of such an incident crippled his resolve to pursue Shiver?!" Callie thought, pitying the boy. She couldn't let him give up like that, not when he and Shver were (at least to her) soul mates. Grabbing Tres by the shoulders, Callie pulled him over, staring at him dead in the eyes before loudly declaring, "You shouldn't give up hope, Tres! Be strong for her!"

"Whuah?" Tres looked perplexed, Callie was acting even more hotblooded than she usually was today. Luckily, Marie was able to bail him out before things got any stranger.

"Callie, stop bothering Tres. You're missing out on the news," said Marie.

"But it's a matter of life and death!" Callie shouted passionately.

"Oh, you say that about everything!"

"That's because it's true!"

"Name one time when it actually was!"

"What about that time you were seconds away from throwing Sheldon off of Hammerhead Bridge because he wouldn't shut up about the development history of ink pumps?" Callie raised a brow, crossing her arms in a huff.

Marie was left at a loss for words. She had completely forgotten all about that little incident. "...Name two times when it actually was!"

"Would both of you spazzes shut your clams!" Pearl interjected, pointing to the screen. "The Q&A is about to start. Time to see what the fans are all clamoring for."

Callie clicked her tongue and sank into her seat with her arms still crossed, puffing out her cheeks as she did so. She was on a crusade of passion, it was a legitimate and serious endeavor. One way or another she will untangle the red thread of fate so that true love may prevail in the end.

For now, she'd settle on keeping an eye on Tres, and he had his eyes on Shiver.

The Splatcast had been going quite well, Shiver was largely in control of the situation, mustering enough confidence during the time since her chat with Frye to craft a believable vestige of normalcy.

She read the news, announced the new stage rotations, told jokes and bounced back and forth with both Big Man and Frye in a relatively organic way. There were a few times she went off script but thankfully her friends were able to play off of the seemingly unrelated jibber jabber that would occasionally leave her lips.

And throughout it all Shiver felt momentarily free from her shackles of shame. She knew this sensation wouldn't last long once the Splatcast was over, but it really made her think during the interim between announcements. Tres was still on her mind, only this time her thoughts weren't so negative. She reminded herself of his kindness, his goofy earnest nature and strength of will. It was enough to make her beam uncontrollably and forget her woes.

It eventually came time for the hotly anticipated Q&A session with Deep Cut, where they will answer questions from the fans. The topic of the day was of course their widely talked about collaboration with Squid Sisters and Off The Hook; the formation of Seven Day Forecast. The chat box displayed on Big Man's screen was positively abuzz with activity, with messages from millions of fans flashing by at a psychopathic pace all expressing their excitement for the collab.

Shiver, Frye and Big Man answered to the best of their abilities, either spilling the beans on what they could or staying mum as an oyster about what they couldn't. This went on for a whole hour. The dedicated segment was taxing but it wasn't anything they weren't used to. Eventually it came time to close things out. They would only answer a few more before ending the Splatcast.

"So, BooyahBomma322 says: 'Hey, Deep Cut. There are rumors that you've already gotten an album in the works. Are there any deets you can give us?'" Frye read. "Excellent question! Tell 'em, Shiver."

"Now, we do have most of our songs written already but we haven't recorded any music, so unfortunately we can't preview any of our cuts to our lovely audience just yet. But fret not, we do have some in-progress roughs of the album cover we can show today," Shiver replied coolly, gesturing to Big Man as several images showed up on screen each depicting a rough sketch of a scenic woodland clearing with each member present somewhere on the cover. It was simply titled 'Seven Day Forecast' in a variety of unique fonts.

"Ay, ay! (I think they all look great! It's so hard to pick just one!)" said Big Man.

"Decisions, decisions," Frye added, looking thoughtful. "Hey, maybe we can do a special variant cover kinda deal! We know how much you guys love collecting all kinds of random stuff! We've all seen your lockers, so let's go ahead and add fuel to that fire!"

"Now, now, Frye. Let's not get ahead of ourselves,' Shiver chuckled. "There's still lots of work for us to do before our big debut, so let's do our best and sing with all our heart. In the meantime we'd like to ask our viewers to be patient. Art takes time and we want our moment of unveiling to be a memorable one. So please, wait for the Seven Day Forecast."

"Ay. (Well said, Shiver.)" said Big Man.

"Alright, we got enough time for one last question before we sign off for the day," said Frye, pumping a fist in the air. "So what do we have?"

"Ay. (Actually, I have a question.)" said Big Man.

"What's your question, Big Man," Shiver replied, a smile on her face.

"Ay? (What's a Suckling?)" he queried innocently.

There was a sudden loud reverberating snap that caused everyone in the studio to jump at the sound of. Shiver's fan had practically exploded in her hands at the sheer pressure exerted by her grip strength, scattering bits of paper and wood along the studio floor. She had grown unnaturally pale, her pupils shrank to pinpricks and she could feel her heart grow still. Shiver looked like a ghost.

"Er, S-Shiv? You okay there?" Frye asked, noting the worrying thousand yard stare on her friend's visage.

"W-where did you hear t-that?" Shiver rasped, shaking like a leaf in a storm.

"A-ay, ay, ay! (I-I overheard you backstage.) Ay, ay! (You said you did it to Tres.) Big Man stammered.

His reply was met with a series of dramatic gasps, only they didn't come from inside the studio.

From behind the large glass pane windows every single Octoling in the crowd outside and every Octoling watching the Splatcast remotely all gasped in shock, it was enough to drown out the hectic bustling noise of the city and even reach beyond the borders of the Splatlands. Not even Inkopolis was safe from the cacophony of gasping that permeated from the lips of every Octoling in attendance of the Splatcast.

Almost immediately after, the gaggle of Octolings nearby quickly raised their hands to cover either their ears, mouth or eyes, averting their gaze from Deep Cut as they clumsily retreated from the main square. They muttered the same mantra Marina did under their breath as they left behind a crowd of confused Inklings.

"Pfft, heh," a dry chuckle left Shiver's lips, snapping everyone's attention to her. The mask of mortification she wore had twisted itself into one of deranged humor. She began to laugh, starting off as a slow airy chuckle that gradually rose to a crescendo as an unnervingly insane cackle that made the jellyfish staff take an unconscious step backwards. "Heh, heh... Eh-ha-ha-ha-ha! HA-HA-HA-HA!"

Even Frye and Big Man couldn't help but break out into a cold sweat as they watched their friend mentally unravel right before their eyes. The situation was made worse when her cackles became intertwined with shrill crying, it became difficult to discern between the two as her features still showed an unhinged madwoman cackling as if listening to the funniest joke she'd ever heard.

Before long, she had had enough. Shiver rose from her seat and sprinted away with desperate haste, knocking over her tatami desk and vanishing from view at the drop of a hat. The entire fiasco only lasted a few arduous minutes. An awkward silence filled the studio, broken only by Frye's fast talking.

"Er, boy, that sure was a funny joke you just told. Right, Big Man?" Frye grinned sheepishly, hoping to salvage the situation.

"Ay! (Uh, right!) Ay, ay! (It had Shiver in tears and everything!)" Big Man replied, his smile equally as awkward.

"W-well, that's all the time we have for today. I hope everyone watching enjoyed our Q&A session!" Frye spoke rapidly without a breath in between words. She clumsily stood up and did her signature pose, the sheepish grin still plastered on her face. "Er, c-catch ya later!" She then made the slicing gesture by her throat, signaling the staff to end the Splatcast. "Kill the feed, kill the feed!" She grumbled beneath her breath.

The Splatcast ended with a bang, and made things a whole heck of a lot worse for our favorite team of agents and idols.

Back at the garage, everyone stared blankly at the screen with a wide-eyed slack-jawed expression. Agent 8 in particular looked like he had just eaten some bad sushi while Marina was frozen in shock, her hands pressed on both sides of her face and mouth silently screaming into the void. The others had no idea what had just happened and were wracking their brains trying to comprehend what they just witnessed.

"...What the shell was that?!" Pearl exclaimed.

"Uh, guys. You might wanna take a look at this," Quattro muttered disconcertedly, showing his phone to the team. It was Deep Cut's Splatcast chat logs. Shiver's outburst on the livestream had the masses aflame with activity.

- 8isGr8: "NOOOOOO! SHIVER, MY QUEEN! HOW COULD YOU!?"

- LilyPadPro23: "Shame! Shame! Shame!"

- SquidKid4evah: "What the heck was that all about?"

- OctODude8x8: "Kids these days, so reckless."

- SnIperScUm77: "L-lewd..."

- Fl1pp3rDaDolf1N: "SHE DID WHAT!?"

- Gwyndolyn10nnyson: "I don't get it. Why did she freak out like that? Also, Big Man's question was never answered. What's a Suckling?"

- K4maKamel3on39: "#SevenDayForecast #DeadInTheWaters."

- NotAnotherOctoling: "NONONONONONO!"

- BuBB13Buddy08: "Okay, that is not okay."

- SquidKid4evah: "No, seriously. Can someone tell me what the heck was that all about?!"

- M34NinGR33N: "DISHONOR! DISHONOR!"

- XxOct4vioFanb0ixX: "The Inklings! They know! Hide everything!"

Before long everyone's phones were buzzing with notifications. Kuki pulled out her own and checked the feed. There were several hastily written articles about Shiver's mental breakdown on the Splatcast that had just been published on social media, and they were all sensationalist in nature with their titles announcing the end of the Seven Day Forecast Collab. Leave it to bad journalism outlets to inflate an issue.

"Okay, now it's a problem," she grimaced.

8 clamped his hands over his eyes shortly after. He turned around and left, muttering the same Octarian mantra, stumbling and tripping across the garage as he blindly wandered away into the heart mansion. As for Marina, she suddenly felt lightheaded and fainted atop Pearl, who hurriedly scrambled to catch her before she could fall onto the floor.

"Rina?! RINA!?" Pearl cried, cradling her friend.

"Oh, yeah," Kuki sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt a migraine come on. "This is definitely a problem..."