Joey (Guest) - Thanks for the kind words. I had a lot of fun with the Zelda songs.
Note - 1 Power Egg equals 100, so 10 equals 1000. I'm doing it this way because they are mentioned in this chapter, and I don't know how Neo 3 carries tens of thousands of them for Little Buddy's consumption.
The only time Splatsville was remotely quiet was in the dead of night to the earliest of mornings, and because of the quietness, it was the best time to enjoy an exhilarating jog through the city. The streets were completely deserted, and the only noise was the sound of her footsteps. The calm and peaceful atmosphere was a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the daytime. There were no lights except the occasional streetlamp, but they were far and few between.
The feeling of freedom was liberating and calming, and she felt like she could run forever. The same feeling surfaced when she danced. She felt free and in control, not bound by anyone's expectations.
Frye's mornings started with a brisk jog around the city. Her three hearts pounded against her chest as her feet, which were protected by shoes, hit the pavement. Although she loved the shoeless lifestyle, running in socks was not a comfortable feeling.
Her breathing was rapid, and a layer of sweat covered her face. The cool night air felt refreshing, and the stars twinkled in the sky, the perfect backdrop for an exhilarating run to start the morning.
As she exercised, the idol went over today's plan in her head. After the morning Splatcast, she was going to find the girl who purchased the black and red roses. Frye wholeheartedly believed Maya and her big brother, Syrus, were the key to figuring out Bolero's true identity. Not only did Maya have the roses, but after yesterday's evening Splatcast, Deep Cut found out that Syrus was one of the Octolings with red eyes listed in Shiver's notes.
When she realized there was a suspect, Frye wanted to be the one to pick their brains while Shiver and Big Man interviewed the other applicants on the list.
'That rose really is good luck. Ratted out the flower girl and found me a good suspect.'
After a few more lefts and turns, Frye completed her third lap around the city and paused to catch her breath, stopping at the top of the stairs in the Square. She wiped the sweat from her large forehead and stretched, feeling energized and ready to take on the world once more.
'Man, nothing like a good run in the morning to get the ink flowing. I feel like a new squid.'
She hopped on the divider and stared at the empty marketplace. It was easily the most bustling part of the city, and to see it so deserted was a unique sight to behold. Frye had always enjoyed watching the city come alive. Now, it was almost as if she was the only one left in Splatsville.
"Hard to believe it was just two days ago," she crossed her arms and envisioned the city's last Splatfest. Although she lost the festival to Shiver, she won the dance show against Bolero by a slim margin. It was the closest competition she ever had.
"Are they even awake?" She stretched and breathed, wondering if her rival was an early riser like her.
Frye recalled her late-night rendezvous with the enigmatic dancer. In their exchange, she learned that they loved poetry. She wasn't sure if it was just the persona Bolero created for the part or if was their genuine passion, but Frye knew she was dealing with a creative cephalopod.
Her rival also had impeccable reflexes. It was clear Bolero had years of training under their shawl. The way they moved was a testament to the hours of training they endured. It explained how easily they were able to evade an excited crowd despite feeling tired from their intense dance battle. Frye could scrap with the toughest Splatlandian, but her adversary proved to be more flexible than they let on. She would have to think more outside the box to snatch Bolero's hood off their head.
Frye learned something about herself too. She loved the ancient dances of tango and salsa. Her style of dance was more carefree with her unique flair, but during their second duet, Frye found herself enjoying the fast-paced dances. She thought the proximity would be difficult to get used to, but oddly enough, Frye didn't mind it.
She couldn't explain it, but even when she was trying her best to outwit them, something about them drew her in. The amount of joy she exuded from interacting with Bolero was immense. She didn't know why. Maybe it was the mystery, or maybe it was the hypnotic way they danced, but Frye was becoming more and more drawn to the performer.
"You guys looked great dancing together," she remembered the cashier at the flower shop telling her.
Frye took the time to watch the videos and could see why the cashier thought so. She and Bolero were in perfect synchronization. Although, watching it didn't have the same exhilarating effects as experiencing it. The comments mainly spoke about how amazing the performance was and how picturesque the duo looked.
Frye agreed with both aspects and longed to share a stage with them again.
"Could this be the start of a crush?" Shiver's teasing voice popped into her head.
'No, I'm just remembering how much fun I had.' Frye had to remind herself.
She touched her cheek and felt how hot it was. She was sizzling.
'I don't have a crush.'
Her three hearts suggested otherwise.
"How many times can we dance under the moonlight before our rivalry becomes more intimate?"
Frye's face spotted a dark yellow on her cheeks. She was initially surprised by the question and the audacity of the taciturn dancer. They were basically saying their rivalry wasn't enough for them and wanted something more. Frye had to respect their honesty, but it wasn't enough for her to submit to their request.
She placed both hands on her cheeks, the heat rising in her face.
"We'll see," she smiled. "Yesterday marks two dances."
She stopped before the giggles could touch her throat.
'No, you're tougher than this, Frye. It takes more than a few twirls and dips to win you over. You're a bandit, the dancing gangster. You can't be swooned by a pair of legs.'
The idol shook her head and let out a calming breath.
'It's not a crush. It's respect and admiration.'
She was going to find out who they were. It was a crime to keep all that talent hidden under a shawl. Frye wanted to see the real Bolero, and she was going to do whatever it took to make it happen.
With a boost in her step, Frye danced down the divider until she reached the bottom.
"I'm sure."
Frye stopped dancing and looked around, certain she heard someone's voice.
"I'm not crazy."
She heard the voice again. It was nearby, and the speaker didn't seem to notice her presence. She followed the sound and eventually came across a figure in the shadows, but she couldn't identify them because of the lack of illumination.
'Who's that?'
Frye hid behind a large sign and tried to ascertain their motives. It shouldn't be any of her business, and she was thinly close to going back to her jog, but at the last second, she saw what they were messing with and nearly screamed.
'No! Get away from there!'
The figure was crouched beside the lonely grate. Not a big deal, as everyone was aware of it. However, who in their right mind would plunge into the sewers? Cod knows what slimy abominations lurked below the city's surface. That was the main reason Splatlandians stayed away.
That was the reason Deep Cut knew of the truth, and thus the reason why Frye wanted the figure to leave things as they were.
"I intend to find out," they said. "I'm going in."
With a plop, the figure disappeared through the grate.
Frye ran up to investigate, her face carrying a concerned countenance.
'Of all times! You've got to be kidding me! I already have enough on my plate with Bolero. I don't need some trespasser plundering our plunder!'
She considered her options.
'I have to tell Shiver and Big Man. We'll force 'em out. Yeah, make 'em regret trespassing on our turf.'
The idol calmed down, smiling even. She hated having to put her plans on hold, but this took precedence. No one takes Deep Cut's treasure.
Bolero
Beyond the grate, a blue-haired, male Octoling with dark skin emerged on the other side. His eyes were covered by a visor, but despite the eyewear, he could see his surroundings perfectly fine. On his back was a Tri-Stringer, a unique weapon unique to the Splatlands.
He looked around and was surprised by what he saw. Instead of an underground chamber full of trash and nauseating waste, he stumbled upon more land situated within a massive crater as far as the eye could see, but there was a problem.
Immediately, the Octoling was on guard. An infection of sorts seemed to plague the area, hordes of rainbow-colored ooze latching onto the structure with brown, spiky protrusions prickling out.
The Octoling peered at the sky, which was still littered with stars under a dark canvas.
'Úbi sum? (Where am I?)'
He began walking and observing. The first thing he noticed was a small shack built to the side, and judging by its state, it had been used recently and for quite some time.
It was empty save for the supplies stashed inside.
'Nulla signa illius senis. (No signs of that old man.)'
He was about to turn and leave when his eyes landed on an open notepad with a sketch of a female Inkling drawn in it. He picked it up and studied the sketch.
'Cur tam nota respicit? (Why does she look so familiar?)'
He put it on the back burner for now and pressed on. Not even three steps later, the Octoling jumped back and grabbed his Tri-Stringer. He nearly stepped face-first into the ooze.
'Hoc ieiunium expandit? (It spread this fast?)'
His suction cups strongly warned him to avoid making contact with the infection. Instead, he grabbed his weapon and fired three arrows at the mysterious goop.
What happened next put the dark-skinned Octoling on high alert as the mysterious mass convulsed and devoured the projectiles upon contact. There was no subsequent explosion. The arrows were drained and vanished into the belly of the slime without a trace.
The goop rattled for a second before returning to its pulsating state.
'Non tangere. (Do not touch.)'
With no other option, the cephalopod left the ooze alone and followed the path deeper into the crater. Unfortunately, the situation worsened as he descended. More of the infection latched onto the structure, leaving a single trail as if purposefully guiding him through its labyrinth.
Was he being led into a trap? Did the mysterious mass have a mind of its own? Was it even alive?
The Octoling had a million questions. He continued moving until his path was blocked by a big wall of ooze. Unlike the other piles though, this one had a large, bulbous sphere on top.
He tilted his head to the side.
'Estne cerebrum? (Is that the brain?)'
Curious about the pimple, the Octoling fired several rapid arrows at the bulbous sphere, but nothing worked. However, it reacted harsher than the last specimen, vibrating wildly as if furious by the sudden assault.
'Hmm, fortasse. (Hmm, maybe.)'
He changed up his shot, charging up his bow for a more powerful strike. The ball was definitely an area of importance, but just to be sure, the boy tried a more powerful shot and attacked the sphere once again.
The rainbow substance shivered, and a low, ghastly growl crawled around the Splatlandian. He heard it from seemingly all directions.
The ooze was angry, angry at him for hurting it. Its wild movements implied it was going to attack, but it never did so, choosing to instead go back to its idle state after a few moments.
'Novus. (Interesting.)'
There was nothing else he could do except turn back. His ink didn't work on the slime, but the investigator wasn't deterred by this revelation. He tried to look around the wall, but it was too tall. Then, he noticed a section to the right and peered over the rails.
As he suspected, the entire crater was infected, and the ooze grew in size the deeper the crater went.
More questions occupied his mind, but he chose not to dwell on them. He had to leave before the matter became even worse. The ooze didn't seem to have a will of its own, but there was the possibility it could develop.
The Octoling decided to leave before that possibility became a reality, and yet, the crater continued to catch his attention more and more. It was like the place was designed to ensnare the curious and adventurous.
'Quomodo ego desidero? (How did I miss that?)'
Behind his visor, his eyes widened. The last thing he expected to find beneath the grate was a sealed kettle.
'Cur olla hic sita est? (Why is there a kettle located here?)'
This was crucial and needed further investigation, but his mind was set on withdrawing for the time being. There was no way of knowing if the kettle was infected or not. Judging by how far the contamination spread, the Octoling had to assume the worst.
He was not so ready to leave yet. The kettle left him uneasy. The lid was sealed tight, and there were no signs of anyone tampering with it.
'Num deseritur? (Is it abandoned?)'
He was hoping for the opposite, that more of his kind was hiding underneath. He could help usher them into the city. Although Splatsville was crowded enough as is, it would do his fellow Octarians good to see the beauty of the surface they had fought so hard to attain.
'Ego ius retro eris. (I'll be right back.)'
The Octarian made his way back to the exit, careful to avoid the ooze that spilled over into his path.
'Numquam illum senem vidi. (I never did see that old man.)'
He hoped nothing bad befell them. It would be dreadful to learn they were swallowed up by the infection.
Before he could leave the crater, a loud rattling sound alerted the Octoling and forced him into a combat stance. He charged up a shot with his bow and aimed it at the canopy.
Nothing happened, and the silence was unsettling.
The Octoling slowly backed onto the grate, giving the site a good once over before leaving and returning to Splatsville. He was glad to see familiar territory.
No one was around to greet him, but the streets had eyes. Someone was already tailing him before he entered the Crater. He had to move, knowing he was on someone's radar, but he ignored that in satisfaction with the information he gathered.
He didn't find the old man like he initially planned, but he did find something else that warranted further investigation. That mysterious ooze lurking close to his city; he had to figure out where it came from and, if possible, how to get rid of it.
One super jump later, the Octoling arrived at his destination and quickly ascended a flight of stairs, arriving at his two-bedroom apartment, where inside, he was welcomed by a friendly face sitting on the couch in the living room.
"Yo, Syrus, how did it go?" a green-haired, male Inkling with orange eyes waved. He wore a skull bandanna over his mouth and was currently giving a pair of Dualie Squelchers some maintenance.
The Octoling, now known as Syrus, set his weapon down beside the chair across from the occupied couch.
"Hold on," he said while removing his visor, finally exposing his vision to light. His eyes were a menacing red with a small but noticeable x-shaped scar between them. He crossed the room and turned left into the hallway. The last door on his right, he peeked into the bedroom. It was dim and quiet, and the girl under the sheets quietly snored as her body rose and fell at a steady pace.
Syrus listened, confirming the girl was sound asleep and not faking it like some nights. He closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
'Bene, dormit. (Good, she's asleep.)'
The Octoling headed back to the living room and collapsed on the couch, heaving a huge sigh. He threw his head back and let the tension slowly evaporate from his body.
"Thanks for looking out for her, Zane," he said to the Inkling.
Zane waved it off with a nonchalant smile.
"No problem. She had some of her friends over, but there weren't any complaints. They mainly played with Ken and gushed over this whole Frye and Bolero thing."
"Oh yeah? It's the same at work. That's the fifth interrogation I've endured in the past two days alone."
Zane couldn't help but laugh.
"Everyone's so gung-ho about this even though no one will win."
"It's just a way to get the city involved. The more eyes on the lookout, the more we'll learn of our fellow Splatlandians. I just hope this doesn't go on for long."
"Meh, something tells me your problems are only beginning," Zane let out a loud yawn. "So how did the investigation go? Did you find that old man?"
Syrus shook his head, still thrown back.
"Not a sign; however, someone does live down there. They have a sunshade to prove it. Secondly, the pipe doesn't lead to the sewers. There's more land at the end, but I couldn't tell where exactly I was in correlation to Splatsville."
"That explains why you don't smell like something died."
Syrus was thankful too.
"Finally, we do have a problem. There's some kind of ooze spreading down there."
"Ooze?" Zane parroted, obviously confused by Syrus' analysis. "Like toxic waste?"
"I don't know how to explain it. The stuff was everywhere, and my suction cups warned me to avoid any contact. I shot it to see if it was alive, and I can safely say that it is, just not with a mind of its own. I learned that when I shot the brain."
Zane shuddered.
"How far has it spread?"
"Up to where I entered. Literally, the first thing you see. Nothing worked, so our ink is out of the equation, but I'm sure if I can pop the brain, it'll do something."
"Yeah, piss it off more than you already have. We should tell the EVPs. They might know what to do."
Syrus fixed his posture and lowered his head, clasping his fingers together.
"That is a good idea, but I believe I already have a way to do it. It'll require a massive amount of luck. My idea is to use Ken and have him eat the brain."
"Ken?"
"Mhm, as much I don't want to, and my head is telling me not to, I think Ken is the answer."
"I mean, the little guy can put it away, but if you can't touch it, it won't be safe for Ken as well. He'll be eaten instead."
Syrus' expression darkened. He truthfully didn't want to go through with it, but all his brainstorming led him to this one conclusion. It was the only idea that seemed plausible.
"I'll cut him out if I have to, even if I have to get eaten in his place."
As if on cue, a whiny cry entered the living room as a fast, waddling creature came into view and went to Syrus.
"Speak of the Kraken," the Octoling gave it a pet. "Ken, I need you for a mission."
"Waah!" Ken cried.
Ken was a friendly Smallfry Salmonid whom Syrus stumbled across and adopted during one of his many desert escapades. He was a loyal companion, and Syrus trusted the little guy with his life. He was like a son to the Octoling.
Syrus picked the little guy up and set him on his lap, where the Smallfry got comfortable and curled up.
"He's on board."
"Count me in too," Zane stated with a large smile. "I'll help you get to the bottom of this. Two dudes and their pet Smallfry are going to save the city."
"We'll head out after the morning Splatcast. Right now, I need some sleep."
He was already envisioning the task ahead.
'Quid factum est seni? (What happened to the old man?)'
It was a question that followed Syrus to sleep. He couldn't help but feel responsible for the possible demise of the stranger. What if the old man was looking for help? What if he was being attacked, and no one bothered to investigate? If Syrus followed his gut after they locked eyes, could he have saved him?
The Next Morning
The familiar melody of the Anarchy Splatcast grabbed everyone's attention as the members of Deep Cut appeared on TV.
"Listen up! It's going down. Repping the Splatlands, we are Deep Cut!" Shiver bowed to her adoring audience.
"Anarchy Splatcast! We are live!" Frye cheered.
"Yeah!" the cheers of a little girl rang throughout the living room. Her turquoise pigtails turned into a bright yellow that matched the ebony idol's hair. "Syrus, the Splatcast is starting!"
"I'll be right there," the Octoling said from the kitchen.
"Ay! (Here we go!)"
"You lip-synch, we drip ink."
"Ay, ay, ay! (Shiver, Frye, and Big Man!)"
"Ooh, I can't wait," the girl bounced in her seat. "I hope they talk about Bolero."
"You and a lot of girls in the city, Maya," Zane commented, trying not to sigh. "They're all I've been hearing about for the past two days."
"Because we're all dying to see how this turns out," Maya stated with a smile threatening to split her face. "My friends and I believe Frye and Bolero are soulmates just meeting for the first time."
Maya was a younger Inkling girl with yellow pigtails. Her original hair color was turquoise, but a unique quirk of hers was the mood ring spectrum. Like the accessory, her hair changed colors based on her mood, with yellow being the happiest, and turquoise being her natural, base happy mood. She was Syrus' adopted sister and an avid fan of Deep Cut.
"Let's get started with the bounty hunt," Frye said. "You guys work fast. Thanks a lot for the wonderful fanart and comments, but I need to clear up these rumors and accusations."
"Ay? Ay, ay? (What rumors? Are they about me? I hope not.)"
"The rumors Shiver helped spread about me and Bolero," Frye looked towards her co-star with a stern glare.
Shiver held a hand to her chest and gasped. "You're accusing me? Frye, I expected better."
"Ever since you mentioned a fake crush, the comments have been grilling me."
Shiver smirked. "Is it fake, Frye?"
"Yes, it is." she huffed.
"Not from my perspective. Your whole demeanor changed after that fateful encounter."
"I do not have a crush on Bolero. We are rivals."
Frye didn't like the way Shiver giggled.
"Rivals can become something more, you know. As I said, your whole demeanor has changed, mayhap because a dashing rogue swept you off your feet?"
"Don't listen to her, guys," Frye told the audience. "Bolero has the hots for me. I talked to them again last night and told them I wanted them as a rival."
Shiver perked up at the news.
"Oh? You had a secret meet-up last night? Ooh, la, la."
"Wait, it's not what you think!" Frye quickly said. "We just talked and danced. I tried to unmask them, but they were too good."
"Ay, ay? (Did you learn anything?)"
Although her face was flushed, Frye maintained her professionalism.
"They love poetry more than Shiver likes writing haikus."
"Lies," Shiver stated with a noticeable frown on her face. Hardcore fans know the cold-blooded bandit was a master of haikus and calligraphy, as those with her autograph noted how beautiful her signature was.
"No one can match my passion for the liberal arts."
It was Frye's turn to smile. "Wanna bet?"
"You have proof?" Shiver challenged.
Against her better judgment, Frye pulled out Bolero's letter, which led to whispers within the city.
"How can you claim there's nothing between you two when you casually pull out a letter?" Shiver teased.
"Hush. Now, before I begin, I want to remind everyone that Bolero is the one with romantic feelings. Understand? THEY'RE interested in me."
"Says the one who had a secret meeting with them," Shiver remarked.
"That's enough out of you!"
Frye cleared her throat and read the letter's contents to the audience.
Thank you for dancing with me. I had a great time last night. Imagine my surprise, however, when a city-wide search for me appears on the news the next morning. You're even bolder than I am, Amada. However, you think lowly of me if you think your army can apprehend me. I'll play your little game, Amada, but it's not fair if you're the only one having fun. So, I have a game for you. How many times can we dance under the moonlight before our rivalry becomes more intimate? Can the dancing gangster withstand my serenade of water, or will the tamer become trapped in my bolero of fire? Will you sing me a sonata of awakening as we dance to my new wave bossa nova, or will I need to dance through a song of storms in this nocturne of shadow?
Silence fell over the studio.
Frye studied the news crew and saw everyone had slacked jaws and stunned countenances. Even Shiver was taken aback.
"Ay! (That was beautiful!)"
"It's too poetic for my tastes, but I can get behind it. What's a nocturne of shadow? I feel that's a reference to something, but I couldn't make them talk."
"Ay? (What's an Amada?)" Big Man added his two coins. "Ay? (Is that a title?)"
"Oh," Shiver fanned herself as everyone looked to her for an explanation. "Well, not exactly. I don't think I should tell you, Frye."
"What? Don't do that. You have any idea how much sleep I lost over this? What does it mean? Is it bad? Do I need to pop a cephalopod?"
"No, no, no, it's nothing insidious. It's just… if you hate being teased, you're better off not knowing."
"C'mon, I can take it. Lay it on me. I can use this against them."
Shiver took her friend's word for it. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she hid part of her face behind her fan. "To my fellow Octolings, I hope you say similar sweet nothings to your significant other."
"Sweet nothings?" Frye started to get flustered again.
"Mhm. You see, Amada means to be loved. In this case, it uses the feminine form, which translates to my ladylove. You're even bolder than I am, my love. I'll play your little game, my love."
Frye's mouth dropped. "…What?"
"Bolero isn't just being poetic, nor do they have a simple crush on you either. They are IN love with you, Frye. Amada, or amavit, means sweetheart, THEIR sweetheart. Bolero is confirming they want you as a lover, and this is their love letter to you."
The city, mainly some of its female populace, erupted in cheers.
"YES!" Maya exclaimed in awe. She shot up from her seat, launching a surprised Ken the Smallfry into Syrus' ready arms. "Oh my goodness, it's happening."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Maya," Syrus advised.
"What do you mean? Bolero's head over heels in love with Frye. This is a confession."
"It's more of a challenge really," Zane commented. "A challenge that Frye can't back down from. It's going to be a wild ride."
Maya sighed dreamily. She loved a good romance story and was a sucker for cheesy love dramas.
"They'll be together in the end. The power of love will prevail! What do you think, bro?"
"That I'm no longer going anywhere without eyewear because the questionings are going to get rougher," he grumbled and walked away while his sister and best friend laughed.
Bolero
The time for action was now.
After the news, Maya tackled the day by calling up her friends and meeting with them to discuss the new love sprouting in the city. This left Syrus and Zane to finalize their plan without the young girl knowing.
It took a minute to organize their thoughts. Syrus had to rearrange his schedule to make sure nothing interfered with the investigation.
"I have to clock in by seven. That should give us plenty of time, but just in case, let's be back here by five."
"What about your time as a salvager?" Zane pointed out.
"I'm not worried. The workers at the shipyard just won't see me as much, but if things get too tight, I'll ask Luke to join you until I'm in the green. I can't be late to Grizzco."
Their plan written out, the boys checked their gear and set out to leave.
Syrus placed Ken in a special backpack that could hold him and various snacks to satiate his carnivorous appetite.
"Comfortable?"
The Smallfry replied with a cry.
Syrus put on his visor to hide his eyes. He didn't want anyone else stopping him with another interrogation about his whereabouts.
"Alright, let's go."
The square was much more vibrant in the morning. The once desolate streets were full of life now and growing more crowded by the minute, but there was no issue sneaking through the grate and riding back to the crater.
Zane was the first to emerge followed by Syrus.
"Whoa, what is this place?" Zane inquired, amazed by the new territory. "And how is there a sky? We went straight down, didn't we?"
"I've yet to figure that out. See the infection?"
"Oof, yeah, that is some freaky stuff."
Before the two could assess the situation, they were greeted by a new face.
An elderly Inkling stood before them in a red short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt with black and white palm trees and a cyan coral pattern around the bottom, blue jean shorts with a brown belt, and worn-out brown boots with holes in the toes. Finally, he was leaning on a bamboo cane with a red ribbon tied around it.
Syrus recognized the man immediately.
"That's him," he pointed out, surprised to see him still alive.
His three hearts could beat steadier knowing the elderly squid was safe and sound.
"Huh, guess the rumors were true after all."
The man started mumbling, catching he boys' attention. His voice was low until he suddenly exploded with enthusiasm.
"Th-th-the... Oc-Oc-Oct... The Octarians are coming! AGAINNNNNNNNNNNN!"
The man's cries echoed through the infested crater.
As for the boys, they were left speechless.
Syrus slanted his head to the side and raised his visor to show the visible flabbergast on his face.
"Oh, uh, hi... Did we do this once before? The ol' noggin ain't what it used to be," the old man continued with a more calm demeanor. "Anyhow, the name's Cuttlefish. Senior advisor to the New Squidbeak Splatoon, at your service!"
Syrus, still with his visor up, and Zane shared a perplexed look.
"You sure this is the man?" Zane whispered.
"Positive," the Octoling whispered back. He turned to Cuttlefish, but the man was already in his face.
"That look in your eye... It's the look I've been lookin' for!" He exclaimed and backed away. "The Great Zapfish that powers Splatsville has been squidnapped!"
"…Has it?" Zane looked at his friend who merely shrugged.
"I never noticed."
"It's the Octarians again," stated Cuttlefish. "You can bet your bottom sand dollar on it! See, the Great Zapfish has gone missing before. Twice, in fact! And those Octojerks were behind it both times."
"Excuse you," Syrus scowled, not fond of the shade the old sea dog was spewing toward his kind.
The old squid ignored him though.
"I've been keepin' an eye on 'em even though I'm technically retired. And with eyes like these, there ain't much that escapes me! But they still made off with the Great Zapfish. And now WE'VE got to get it back. Right?"
"… Are you on something, old man?" Zane asked, hoping the old timer wouldn't anger his friend. He didn't have the manpower ready for that task.
"So, uh... ... ...That was a job offer, kid. The pay is...zero...but you might just save the world. You're in, right? RIGHT?!" He didn't give Syrus a chance to speak. "Course you are!"
"But I didn't."
"Starting today, you are Agent 3 of the New Squidbreak Splatoon!" he shoved some bright yellow clothes into Syrus' arms. "This is your brand-new Hero Suit! It'll help you fight the Octarians."
"I'm trying to tell you, I don't."
"Now, let's go get those Octoclowns! I'm countin' on you, buck-OH! You've already got another agent there with ya, huh?" he finally noticed Zane and Ken. "Well, I'm fresh outta Hero Suits, unfortunately..."
"Here," Syrus gave the suit to Zane instead. "I'm good with my current gear."
"Awesome, thanks," he happily tried it on, amazed to see it fit him just right. "Hmm, snug."
"You can be Agent 7," Cuttlefish announce.
"Not 4?" the Inkling replied.
"Already got an Agent 4, 5, 6, and 8. Seven's available."
"I'll take it. Lucky number 7."
Ken was more interested in the cane the man had, hopping up to take a little bite of it, but was denied and teased by Cuttlefish.
"Ah, but this one's a salty li'l scamp, ain't it?" he chuckled. "It'll do fine. Now where was I... Oh, right! Let's go get those Octojerks! I'm countin' on you, buckos!"
"Can I talk now?" Syrus practically screamed. He folded his arms across his chest, brow twitching, but the old man either didn't notice the Octoling's annoyance or simply didn't care.
"What's on your mind, son?"
"Finally," Syrus sighed. "Okay, first, what's this New Squidbeak Splatoon?"
"You don't know about the Squidbeak Splatoon?" Cuttlefish questioned, genuinely surprised, but then calmed down. "Well, I s'pose we were a secret squad... doin' our hero-ing outside the public eye. How could you know?"
"How many agents are there?" Zane spoke up.
"Including you two, there's now nine. The new captain was Agent 3 before you were Agent 3, Agent 3. Agents 1 and 2 are my granddaughters. Meanwhile, Agents 4, 5, 6, and 8 are stationed in Inkopolis to protect the city. We are secret operatives formed to protect squidkind against evil threats like the Octarians."
"Okay, stop that," Syrus demanded and raised his visors again. "I'm an Octarian, and I'd hardly describe us as evil. Formidable, yes, but not evil."
"Son, you have much to learn," Cuttlefish retorted with a gentle shake of his head. "But that's why I'm here. Don't worry, youngsters, I'll impart my nuggets of wisdom as we look for a way into the Octarian base. Let's get started, boys. This heat is unbearable."
"I regret being worried," Syrus muttered and then turned to his partner. "Follow me."
"Right behind you."
"Oh ho, already know where to go, do you? You've done your reconnaissance," the old retiree was impressed.
Syrus led Zane around the fuzzy ooze and to the sealed kettle.
"Shoot it open," Syrus told Zane, who unloaded several bullets upon the container's lid. It popped right off.
"What is that?" the Inkling asked.
"A kettle," Syrus replied. "As you know, we Octarians used to live deep beneath the surface. We moved around using these kettles as transport devices. We slowly came to the surface one by one and started living amongst the Inklings. However, I never knew the tunnels extended to Splatsville too. Had I known, I would've been here sooner. I told you before that I originally left Inkopolis several years ago."
"Yeah, I remember. You said you hated the easygoing lifestyle."
"Inkopolis was kind to me, and I did make some good acquaintances, but the chaotic nature of Splatsville resonated with me more, so as far you should be concerned, I'm Splatlandian through and through."
"That's what I'm talking about, dude," Zane slapped him on the back. "Don't even worry about it. You've been my bud since the day we met. Now, let's go see what's waiting for us below."
The boys ventured inside the kettle.
As he waited outside, Cuttlefish chuckled softly.
"These newer generations get more and more interesting."
Last night, the retired captain managed to hide when Syrus popped into the crater. It was the dead of night, and he didn't expect anyone to sneak into his camp, but instead of giving his spiel, Cuttlefish observed the Octoling from far away.
It was hard to stay concealed because the Octoling had his eyes everywhere. He watched for any minute changes while studying every inch of his surroundings. Cuttlefish saw how fast he drew his weapon and aimed for his little shed. He shuddered to think what would've happened if he opened fire.
After the Mission
Syrus and Zane re-emerged from the kettle with the Zapfish in hand. They completed their first mission, but the boys couldn't express happiness about it.
"You okay?" Zane placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. He knew it was harder on the Octoling.
Syrus shook his head. He was too lost in thought to respond. Octarian forces were present in the crater, and the kettles were far from abandoned. Syrus was initially surprised but happy to see them, but he immediately knew something was wrong when he saw their tentacles. Their limbs were covered in an abnormal brown fuzz similar to the ooze scattered through the crater.
Syrus tried to communicate with the Octarians, but his words fell on deaf ears. When spotted, the opposing forces didn't hesitate to gun him down, and as such, Syrus had to turn his bow against them.
He had to splat his own kind.
"Well done, Agents 3 and 7!" Cuttlefish greeted them. "You two remind me of a young Cuttlefish...heroically saving the day... Anyway, the good news is you got a Zapfish! They're a source of energy on their own. But the better news is that the Great Zapfish may be up ahead..."
"Hey, old man, any idea what happened to the Octarians down there? They don't look like themselves," Zane pointed out.
"You noticed that too, huh?" Cuttlefish saw the look on Agent 3's face and knew what the young Octoling was thinking. "Yeah, they used to be a little bit more… smooth… if memory serves."
Syrus took a deep breath. His mind was engulfed in a hurricane of thoughts.
'Mitescere, rationem habere posset. (Calm down, there might be a reason.)'
"I need to test something," he hurried to the wall of hairy substance.
"Oh, right. We have to figure out how to get past this fuzzy ooze," Cuttlefish wracked his brain for any morsel of wisdom. "And that blasted fuzzball is just wobblin' back and forth, taunting us..."
Syrus presented Ken to the fuzzy ooze as if offering the Smallfry to the mysterious substance.
"You're not gonna feed the li'l scamp to it, are ya?" Cuttlefish inquired.
"The opposite," Syrus said. "Take a good long look, Ken. Does that look appetizing to you?"
The Smallfry gazed at the multicolored mass. Something about it was drawing the Salmonid to it. The little devourer started to whine and salivate at the promise of food.
"Thought so," Syrus nodded. "He's reacting to it."
"You know... that species is rumored to have a BIG reaction to power eggs... Anything's worth a shot, right?"
"Ayo, we collected a lot of eggs," Zane pointed out. "Let's give him some and see what happened."
Ken was already ahead of the Inkling, diving into the bag they kept the power eggs in, and having himself a feast.
"Geez, slow down, Ken; you'll give yourself a stomachache."
The Smallfry let out a loud belch and felt a surge of power gather within his small body. He was overflowing with energy.
"We're getting somewhere," Syrus picked up his small friend and had him focus on the bulbous sphere. "That's your dessert, Ken. Chow down!"
He lobbed the Smallfry at the fuzzball, praying to the marine cods this would work, and his son wouldn't be consumed by the fuzzy ooze. He, Zane, and Cuttlefish watched as Ken opened his mouth wide and devoured the ball in a single chomp.
The fuzzy ooze started to dissolve into nothingness. Without the brain, the hairy substance couldn't function.
"Look at that—it gobbled up the ooze like it was nothin'. That little monster has quite an appetite!" Cuttlefish broke through his moment of stupefaction. "Anyway, it cleared the path for us. Let's move on!"
Syrus collapsed to his knees and let out a huge sigh of relief. He grabbed Ken and hugged the little scamp to his chest. The weight of the world left his shoulders, his fear evaporating from his soul. His son was okay. His child lived through his stupidity.
"I'm so sorry I risked your life like that, Ken," he apologized. "I wasn't entirely certain that would work, but you did great, buddy."
"Waaah!" Ken chirped, taking refuge in the backpack to rest after a huge meal.
"That's what's up!" Zane pumped his fists. "We're in business now!"
He helped Syrus stand and slapped him on the back.
"We can move forward now," the Octoling said. "There's much to accomplish."
"Try not to fall behind," Zane taunted gently.
"Hm," Syrus smirked. "Careful, Zane. I'm no longer distracted."
The two new agents descended through the crater, exploring the other kettles, and slowly clearing the place of the omnivorous substance.
As they traversed the land beyond the grate, they were unaware of three individuals watching them from a safe distance. The three watched the new agents and the old man clear the crater of the mysterious ooze.
"I thought you said there was only one."
"I did. They brought an ally. I recognize the green one. That's Zane. I talked to him yesterday, but I don't know who the other one is."
"Hmm, doesn't seem like they're doing anything suspicious, but let's keep an eye on them. They might lead us to something valuable."
The three mysterious figures faded into the shadows, leaving the agents to their mission.
Unaware, Agents 3 and 7 continued their exploration, inching closer to the Great Zapfish and the source of the fuzzy ooze.