"We don't have to fight! I was just trying to leave!"
"Sure, that's why Cuttlefish called me! Quit hiding!"
They were at the edge of Octo Valley. Almost to Inkopolis. Why, why now? The Octoling breathes heavily, terrified, as they glance from behind an abandoned car.
"There you are!" The orange inkling rushes at them, when suddenly, there's a massive boom, and the three–Cuttlefish, Agent 3, and the Octoling–are blasted into some place underground. "Larissa…!" The Octoling cries out, just before slamming their head into the ground. He's roused later, by Cuttlefish– Agent 3 nowhere to be seen. "Where…who…?"
"Heard you humming the Calamari Inkantation juuust before you woke up." Cuttlefish says with a chuckle. "That means the song…that heavenly melody, those squidtastic grooves–are they etched into your very soul?!" He asks, standing over him,
"Umm…I…don't know." He sits up a little bit, gagging. "Ugh…"
"Well, clearly it is! And any fan of the squid sisters is a friend of mine, sincerely! Sorry for ehhh siccing agent 3 on you back there." He offers a shaky, crusty old hand to shake, which the octoling takes, accepting the assistance up."I'm Captain Cuttlefish–leader of the New Squidbeak Splatoon! And you are? I should probably know that if we're forming a truce, yeah…"
"...I don't know." He replies. "I don't remember anything." He feels sick to his stomach, realizing that. He rubs his head, grunting a bit, a welt forming where it hit the ground. Nothing came to mind. No name, no past…an uneasy calm settled over him. That meant he had to look out for himself now, and take things as they came…
"By Kraken…well, we'll…we'll figure that out later. For now, let's look for a way out of here! I think I saw a tunnel up over here, ehh…just past that ramp. You check it out first, I'm too old to fight."
"...alright then." He shrugs, walking deeper into the train station. Along the way, he finds his discarded Octoshot, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder "...guess I'll check it out." He doesn't quite find the tunnel–but he does find a door on the train open. "Hello?" He pokes his head into the car, looking down the train's length. Nothin'
Proceeding onward, he notices some ink on the ground, carefully stepping through it in case it hurt–luckily it didn't. Another door is open on the left of the train and he departs, entering a side tunnel.
"HEY, BE CAREFUL!" He hears Cuttlefish practically shriek from in his left ear, full body cringing
"Hey! Way too loud, old man!" He yells back.
"Sorry! I set up the communicator while you were out cold!" Cuttlefish laughs. "Clever, eh?"
"Isn't that totally weird though?! What if I hadn't agreed to a truce?" The octoling sounds exasperated
"Oh, what do you know! It looks like you need a key to open that big gate in front of you–try looking around for it in those storage rooms. And be careful!"
"Yeah, whatever old man…just don't yell in my ear again."
The Octo heads into the dusty storage space and waves some cobwebs out of the way, sneezing anyways from the cloying dust. The room's pretty dark–boxes piled high, forming a bit of a maze, but he makes his way through, eventually finding a conspicuously placed key on a desk. Grabbing it, he heads back to find Cuttlefish waiting for him.
"Got the key." He says, grinning as he holds it up. "Let's ditch this place."
"Whew, sounds good to me!" Cuttlefish says, gesturing for the octoling to lead the way.
He opens the gate, and the two head down a tunnel…into another train station, two tunnels stretching off into the unknown, dim lights lit above illuminating the platform
"Oh…this isn't out at all." Cuttlefish whines. A phone starts ringing further down the way, centered on the platform. "You should answer that! Phone calls make me nervous. Those darn bill collectors…"
"Pay your bills on time then old man."The octo shakes his head, already on his way towards the phone. He stands in front of it and tilts his head as the ringing stops as soon as he stands there.
"Greetings, Applicant [10,008]! Welcome to the deepsea metro! My sole goal is to ferry everyone that comes down here to the promised land!" It says suddenly
"...uh…" He frowns, totally confused. Was the phone itself talking to him?
"Confusion detected! Activating contemporary speech mode…
Yo yo yo, wassup 10-DOUBLE O-8! Welcome to the Metro, we're gonna get you to the promised land, home skillet! You dig?"
"I…dig?" He replies, scratching the back of his head. "Is that the surface?"
The phone ignores his question, focusing on him agreeing. "Good good, glad to hear it [slang not found]! Here's a metro pass–don't lose it! Protect that shizz with your lizzife!" It spits out a card and an odd device to go with–a CQ-80, from what he could tell by the text on it."Y'alls gonna go through the metro collecting some thangs for me–this'll help you ascend to the promised land~ Got it?!"
"Got it." He says, accepting what the phone says. Not like he knew any better than to do that, and…it's not like him and Cuttlefish had options
"Good, homie! Then get going!" The phone makes a dial tone before going inert.
"...Applicant 10,008 is a beakful. I'm just going to call you Agent Eight!" Cuttlefish says, looking up at the octoling
They mull it over a second before nodding. 8 would work for now, for sure "Better than no name at all."
"I agree, Agent Eight!" Cuttlefish looks down the tunnel, hearing something coming. A train pulls into the station now, and slows to a stop, its door opening.
"I'll stay here." Cuttlefish says. "And provide support. You go get those uh…thangs, and we'll get out of here in no time! Good luck!"
Eight nods, walking towards the open door. "I'll be back soon old man, can't keep you waiting too long–you'll shrivel up and die if I do~" He jokes, winking as he climbs onto the train.
He taps his card inside, and the door closes, the train lurching forward. Unlike the other cars, this one wasn't empty–people sitting and idling on it, but…oddly entirely ignoring him.
"Hello?" He asks, walking over to a fish-woman. "Can you hear me? Are we…uh…" They don't react to him at all. He reaches out, chancing a touch to their leg. They're real alright. But he may as well not be there it seems. He shudders, stepping away. "Freaky…"
Next stop…Gnarly Rails Station…
And so began what was a frankly ridiculous gauntlet. These 'thangs' were less hidden then they were just at the end of a mess of …
"Complete shit…" Eight says, battered and cut up pretty badly.
They sit down, staring at a notebook they'd found in one of the earlier chambers, and just started writing poems in. It'd brought him some peace, to journal. He was thirsty. Hungry. Keeping track of time was impossible–every clock simply said '88:88' on it, and there were 8's everywhere in the chambers too. But also, throughout the metro there were these…erasers? Collectible things he'd been finding, inexplicably hidden away. For some reason, they inspired him. He didn't know what–they were just small little trinkets, but they stirred something in him. He felt compelled to write when he found one, a poem–in exchange for a memory, or a glimmer of one at least. His past was slowly coming back to him in bits and pieces, but never anything concrete. No core memories, so to speak. References, feelings, emotions…he sighs,tapping the pen against the side of the book.
"They told me you had gone to ground,
And your rad groove was concrete proof
That you made it safe and sound."
"Marina, huh…didn't know her, but…I'm...glad she made it safe." He says, smiling a bit as a memory comes back to him.
Shadowy figures surround him as he steps into a club, music thumping as Marina DJs on stage, singing, getting the crowd moving. He looks over his shoulder, holding someone's hand as he pulls them onto the dance floor, their features still shrouded in darkness. They mean the world to him. A lover, maybe…? He shakes his head, trying to get more to come back. No, they were dancing like a couple of friends. Not partners. He sighs, the rest of it slipping through his fingers. He'd collected quite a few of these little things, keeping them in a makeshift pouch at his side. That woman had appeared in so many of his memories, but still…he'd never remembered her face or voice.
Eight taps the communicator in his ear. "Still there Cuttlefish?"
"I am!" He quickly replies. "Did you remember something new?"
"Yeah. Some music, an artist. Marina was her name I guess." Eight chuckles a bit. "But it's nice to have some of it coming back to me."
"I'm sure. Take a breather before going on ahead!" He pauses. "Marina, huh? I think I've heard of her. Interesting! Stay safe, Eight!"
"Yeah, I will."
He closes the notebook, pockets it and rests his head against the wall, exhaling deeply. Maybe he should rest his eyes for just a second. Maybe…
He dreams. A group of soldiers attack a small shanty town on the shore, the sky a blood red as they sneak in during a salmonid attack. He kicks in a door in a power plant facility, finding a group of civilians hunkered down for shelter. He feels his hands shake as he aims at them then lowers his weapon, stepping outside. His comrades rush in, weapons firing as his shoulders slump.
"Next stop–H06-Break and Bounce Station"
He's jolted awake, alone on the train car now and shudders, checking the map as it slows to a stop,
He'd been bouncing around to the stations out of order. Going in sequence was just driving him batty, so he started working his way down from the furthest away spots. This whole place didn't make any sense to him. The map got…weird. Lines overlapped, some tunnels didn't go where he expected them to. He'd tried to pay close attention, but sometimes the windows would seal, and prevent him from looking out. Sometimes the power'd be cut, and he'd feel like the car was drifting in nothingness. This station though, should have been one of the last Thangs he needed to get. And sure enough, there it was–out in the open, shield surrounding it. Waiting on a platform that stood separated from several other lines.
"8." He says, shaking his head. There were 8 lines. "Why so many bloody 8's?" He asks, taking aim at the barrier and shooting it till it looked almost like a lid…but he shakes his head, dismissing it as him imagining things, collecting it and getting it onto the train. As it starts to move again, the Telephone speaks over the communicator.
"Yo! You got'em all homeslice! You ready for your once in a lifetime ascension to the promised land? Are you ready to be part somethin' bigger?!"
"Guess so." Eight says popping his neck a bit and resting his eyes again. "Don't got other options."
"Then come on back to me–we'll get you sorted out!"
8 checks the map to make sure he's headed the right way, and sighs, trying to relax, when there's interference suddenly on his radio, and a woman speaks to him.
"Don't trust that phone! I heard rumblings in the metro, and had to hack in here to see what's what…"
"And who are you?" He asks incredulously, before realizing how familiar it the voice was. "...Marina?"
"Not important right now. But if things go sour, We've got your back."
Click.
"...thanks, I guess?" Eight shakes his head. We? "Who's we?" He closes his eyes again, dozing off into a restless sleep…
He wakes up at the station, getting the final Thang off the train and over to the phone, the phone somehow assembling it all together to form what could only be described as a high tech elevator, and definitely not a blender. Cuttlefish stands beside it, and waves. "Kept me waiting, squiddo! C'mon!"
Eight smiles, chuckling a little as he waves back, rushing over to join the old man. The phone laughs, before inviting them to step inside and again, "Reach the promised land!". Eight was, admittedly, nervous. He'd gone to every station–gotten every memory back that he could, he was pretty sure. But he still didn't feel quite ready. But Cuttlefish boldly stepped in, so…what the hell.
Eight follows him inside, the door closed…and the blender turned on. "Woah woah woah, hey!"
"HELP! HEEEEELP!" They bang on the glass helplessly, blade lowering to mulch the two…
When suddenly…glass shatters, and Agent 3 hurdles headfirst through the side, smashing it, and losing consciousness in the process as she slams into the ground.
Marina speaks again on the radio. "I activated the distress signal on your CQ-80–thank goodness that worked…hey! There's an employee model on the ground by your friend there. Check it out–if I can get access to it…"
There's a brief pause. "Uh…Marina?" Asks a different voice on the radio. "You still there?"
"Got it! This is a map of the entire testing facility! I can get you all out with this!" She says finally.
"Booyah! that's awesome!" The second voice yells.
"You'll wanna start by going up that hole they made." Marina says, meaning the one that Agent 3 leapt made.
"Well….I'll stay behind." Cuttlefish says. "No squid left behind and all that…you go on ahead, Eight. Three and I will catch up!"
"Hey!" Eight chuckles, and strikes a pose. "Stay fresh old man!"
Cuttlefish laughs, and Eight jumps off, ending up in some sort of upper testing facility. Navigating it was treacherous–their poor Octoshot was finally damaged to the point of no longer being useful. Luckily, along the way, Eight finds and claims a Splattershot Jr from a machine, slowly making his way up to a platform near the top. He steps into a room that feels like an arena, looking upward at a dark silhouette, green goo glowing on the side of their head…
"Wait…who's that?" The second voice, now identified as being Pearl asks.
"It's Agent 3!" Marina yells, panicking. "What happened to them?!"
"Help!" Cuttlefish shrieks. "That crazy phone hijacked their mind! Help me Agent 8!"
Agent 3 turns to face Eight– eyes warped and glowing, looking ill. They say nothing, leaping down in front of them with a splashdown, and immediately trying to shoot them down with their hero shot. Eight yells in surprise, rushing behind cover and inking some ground, peeking his head out, and pulling it back to avoid getting inked in the face. Their reflexes definitely seemed like that day, two years ago…cod…they've had to have only gotten stronger! 8 looks over at them again, eyes not quite focused. He's not sure if he sees Agent 3 as they are now, or then, and right now it doesn't matter–he had to win, plain and simple.
"This chick isn't gonna stand a chance…" He says to himself, trying to push his past behind him. Now isn't the time to remember anything else!
A bomb lands next to him. He stares at it, before picking it up and tossing it back–the bomb detonating mid-air. 8 yells in pain, clutching his face with a free hand while running, gunning, and aiming with just one arm until he's recovered a bit.
It's hard fought–but the one thing Three was lacking right now, was free-will. That ability to think on their feet. Eight leaned into that, hard–being as unpredictable as they can, and eventually, somehow.
They won.
Three laid on the ground, grunting in pain and annoyance as the ooze slowly faded off of them from his relentless assault. But 8 didn't stick around– he jumped up, saved cuttlefish, and got out of there, fast as he could, landing on a waiting helicopter with Pearl and Marina.
The facility was apparently out in the bay under Inkopolis…but Eight wouldn't get to appreciate it long–a giant statue rising, a cannon coming out of its mouth–the phone ranting over the intercom about how it's known as Commander Tartar and that when it saw how vain these inklings and octolings were, it wanted to eradicate them all–and that this laser would be the thing to do it.
Marina comes up with a plan, quickly–She'd developed a prototype hyperbomb, and would deploy them tactically on the statue, and deploy ink rails–covering it in ink, should keep it from fully charging in the light of the sun–but the catch, was that 8 had to detonate the bombs with their own ink.
"Three minutes." Marina says. "You got 3 minutes to ink, and save the world."
"No pressure yo." Pearl says, cracking her knuckles. "You get it inked, I'll finish it."
Eight leapt onto the statue and…the rest was a blur. Circling, inking, jumping, leaping. They hit the top, and the rails abruptly end. They start to fall…
…this was it, huh? The water beneath them looked so calm. Maybe it wouldn't hurt that bad?
Tap
He touches land, just for a moment–but that's all he needs to leap back to the copter.
The laser readies to charge…and Pearl readies her cannon. It's tense…and then…
"BOOYAH!"
Pearl's epic battle cry manifests as a physical beam of sound, countering the laser…the energy clashing in the air in a brilliant spark of light, before Pearl's yell tears right through it all. There's an explosion, and the statue collapses into the bay once more.
The world is safe.
Pearl and Marina celebrate, while Cuttlefish happily expresses their confidence that Eight wouldn't let them down.
"Hey. Take a moment." Marina says, leaning in to whisper. "The sunrise over Inkopolis overwhelmed me the first time too."
Eight nods absentmindedly and sits at the far end of the copter stage, looking out at the city, bathed in an orange glow. It was beautiful. So incredibly stunning. The way the glass reflected the light in a rainbow of color, the city slowly waking up. A new dawn had come.
His reverie is broken.
"You." He hears Three say, approaching from behind. He looks over his shoulder and pales. Was she about to start a fight? For real?! As she gets closer, she takes a moment to inhale, exhale, and let her expression fall from an angry scowl, to an amused smirk. "You're pretty good." She says, sitting beside him. "Rocked me back to my old self. So…thanks."
"You're welcome." Eight says, relieved. "I thought you were gonna kill me just now." He chuckles nervously.
"Thought about it. But seeing as you just saved the world and all…think it's only fair I give you a pass."
"I appreciate that." He gives a thumbs up.
The two stare at the city together, before 3 speaks again. "What's your plan, anyways? You have one?"
"I dunno." He looks at her, "I've researched the city so much, I think I've romanticized it as this thing I can't actually live in."
"Oh, I know." She lifts his notebook. "Read your journal. Cute erasers, by the way."
Eight feels himself blush, snatching it back. "Man, that's awful!" He rubs the cover and sighs.
"...don't feel bad. I like the poems." She looks away from him. "I don't see the world that way. Almost refreshing, somehow."
"...well, I need a view that's a lot more grounded." Eight says carefully.
"What? Want me to show you around?" Three sounds unamused. "Seriously? You don't even know my name."
"Well, what's your name? I'm Eight." He offers a hand.
She takes it "...Tori." Her grasp is firm, but reassuring. "I'll take some time and help you get settled. It's the least I can do."
"Sounds like it's a date then, Tori!" Eight says enthusiastically. "Can't wait."
"Hey, here's a good tip." She squeezes his hand, hard. "Don't call every outing with a girl you just met a date, man."
Eight whines and pulls his hand away "Alright, alright!" He laughs. "Sorry!"
"Say, kid." Cuttlefish says, walking up. "What d'ya say to joining the New Squidbeak Battalion as our newest addition?" He asks. "We could always use the help fighting whatever comes up to threaten the world, you know."
"...I think I'd like that." Eight nods. "i'd like that a lot."
"Well, then I'll let 1 and 2 know once we're back in town! Haha!"
Tori rolls her eyes at Cuttlefish. "...Welcome to the team then, I guess."
Cuttlefish raises his cane to point, helicopter closing in on a landing pad.
"And, welcome to Inkopolis!"