Maybe death wasn't so bad.
10,008's thoughts were muddled as he laid on the ground. Blood pooled from his ribs, a wound he couldn't stitch up on his own. Not where he was, at least. His vision swam before him, unable to focus on one figure that moved before him.
He saw DJ Octavio, yelling profanities towards the Inkling splatoon that stood just before him. He saw Octarian generals charging forward, hoping to kill the heretics who felled their king. He saw them be flung back as the main Inkling's hair spiked into a glow, ink flying everywhere as she unleashed her special attack on the soldiers. When the flash of light disappeared, all 10,008 could see were Octarian bodies and severed body parts.
And then the Inklings were gone, disappeared as though they never existed. The only remnant they left was the splatters of orange ink.
A cacophony of noise met 10,008's ears and he looked around, seeing it came from the upper-class soldiers as they crowded around the Octo King. He kept his eyes on them, refusing to move in case his wound opened more.
Mouths moved, mumbling words together that were horrific on his ears. Octarian language was harsh, and 10,008 found himself trying to understand what they were saying, despite speaking the language itself.
"Find them… avenge… fail, you will be punished… their music …"
A group of Octarians pulled away from the group, running off in the direction the Inklings left in. 10,008 pulled himself into a sitting position. He was tempted to rush after the soldiers to stop them, but the pain in his side prevented him from it. Instead, he sat at the edge of the arena. Severed Octarian tentacles laid around him, and he recognized one as his own. It flopped around purposeless, like a worm trying to escape the clutches of a bird.
10,008 couldn't watch it any longer, taking his knife from his belt and stabbing it into the tentacle, pinning it down. It still writhed, but its movements were slowing down. He frowned at it, wishing he could just attach it back to his head. But that would take days he didn't have.
The crunch of boots alerted 10,008 to someone approaching him. He kept his eyes forward, staring at the familiar legs. Only when the soldier stopped in front of him, did 10,008 finally raise his head to meet her eyes. Experiment #10,004. Her tentacles hung low on her face, organized and kept to the perfection demanded by the army.
They were technically siblings, cut from the same Octarian tentacle all those years ago. 10,004 was technically older than 10,008, and she felt it was her duty to protect him despite being in different sections of the army.
She knelt next to him, reaching out to wrap his wound in kelp. He winced as the saltiness entered the open wound, but knew it was only there for healing. Her hands worked quickly and without error, and before he knew it the only blood on his body was the dried patches that stained his armor. When she finished, 10,008 thanked her profusely, but she shook it off.
"What do you think we will do now?" She asked him, her voice monotone. There was no color in it, like the rest of the Octarians. 10,008 found it somewhat boring. It was nothing like the song those Inklings sang, or the words they spoke. They had color, music, beauty to it and–
When was he able to hear the color in voices?
Their voices have always been monotonous. Mine has always been monotonous. Since when have I been able to add color?
10,008 felt his mouth go dry, unable to respond to her. All of a sudden, the weight of what he had learned pressed down on his shoulders. He tried to seem unperturbed, especially towards 10,004. She couldn't know what he knew.
"I don't know," he responded, trying hard to be monotonous. But the song those Inkling sisters sang was embedded into his subconscious, threatening to release from the depths of his soul. "I assume His Majesty wants us to go after the enemy…"
"Will you?" 10,004 asked, narrowing her eyes at him. He looked away, nodding his head minutely. He didn't want her to see the lie in his eyes, that he was questioning his loyalties to the army.
But I am sure she knows already.
10,004 helped him to his feet, and he wobbled a little. She didn't reach out to steady him, he had to do it himself. Swallowing down any weakness, 10,008 hobbled over to the generals, who were fretting over the Octo King like a mother over her child. 10,008 watched them with a pang in his heart. The Inklings came to rescue one of their own, despite the prospect of death facing them. But the Octo King—or any of the army's higher-ups—would never do that.
It hurt more than he was willing to admit.
He and 10,004 went over to the huddled group, still staying back a little to be respectful towards His Majesty as he spoke with his generals. 10,004 and 10,008 both fell to their knees as the Octo King stood, ink dripping off his body to reveal his humanoid form. Regular soldiers didn't often see the king in such a form, as he kept it under wraps.
The king hadn't aged in the hundreds of years he'd been alive, at least 10,008 didn't notice any of it. Bright pink tentacles dropped from his head, long and thin. All female Octarians modeled their hairstyles after his tentacle twists, even if it weren't the same thing. A large, golden crown rested on top of his head, intricately designed by Octoling soldiers themselves.
Large scars marred the Octo King's face, bright green against his paler skin. His eyes stared at where the Inkling enemy disappeared, clenching his fists and growling like a monster prepared to leap onto its prey.
"Your Majesty…" one of the generals came forward, head bowed in decorum. "Allow us to take you back to rest. Your wounds need tending to."
"I will do no such thing," the king rumbled. He crossed his arms behind his back, humming a tune that no doubt was one of his. "We need to regroup." His eyes focused on the general who had spoken, and she looked as though she was about to wet herself. "You! Send out all Octarian soldiers in your regiment to hunt down Cuttlefish, I want to know everything about this new group he's formed. I want to know what they have for breakfast, when they sleep, who their friends are, what music they listen to. All of it ."
The general balked at him, looking wildly uncomfortable at what the kin was asking of. But, then her eyes glazed over, something otherworldly taking over her. She bowed her head, muttered an affirmation, and then skittered off.
10,008 looked around him, at each Octarian member that bowed to the king. Each one was the same: eyes filled with something cloudy, fogging up their minds.
But something… or some one had cleared 10,008's mind. He wasn't the same as the rest of them, he wasn't under the king's control anymore.
If only he knew why.