So, For those who don't know me, likely a lot of you all don't, and that's fine, I wrote a fanfic called Twisted by Design or something like that six years ago while still in middle school (Yeah, that was six years ago now) and to be frank, it was not that great but I still liked the concept that I created. I had much grander plans for it that I could not articulate. The story was all over the place and made little sense. A young adult escaping from Octo Canyon to go to Inkopolis only to be met with an evil version of the squid sisters and to be hunted down by an assassin (you know, standard making sense things) and eventually captured. For some edgy, self-absorbed, egotistical teenager, it may have been concise and a masterpiece, but an older version of myself would be to differ and would like to rewrite the story, perhaps. Make it one that happens to have some tangible plot. Now, since that original story took place during the second game, it makes sense for this story to take place during that same time. However, I am structuring this between the beginning events of Splatoon 2 and the end of Splatoon 3. So, for this first chapter, we are in Splatoon 2.

The sky was grey, clouds overlaying the beauty of the blue sky. Within her room, she was busy typing away with the sound of a clattering keyboard diffused throughout her bedroom, the only thing making noise from the inside. The lights had gone off again, resulting in her laptop screen being the only thing illuminating her room. She was finishing paperwork that would finally let her leave the war-torn community that had emerged as a result of the so-called "inkling dastards" that had torn her hometown asunder. Those Inkling dastards were gangs and resistance movements that had risen and been taken down by Octarian forces violently and haphazardly. It was a tactical move by those of the Octatarian government, as doing so would further provide evidence that the Inklings were a violent race, one with which the Octarians were never to interact. In addition, it would likely put doubt in the minds of those who thought about illegally crossing the border to greener pastures in the Inkopolis area and the splatlands. However, some could see through this illusion, such as the Octoling Girl finalizing her application for residency in Inkopolis. Her name was Gloria Alan. She had red tentacles, stood around five foot eight, and was skinny like many other Octolings. It was typical for them as many suffered from malnourishment due to the poor economic status of the region.

As for her personality, Gloria was astute and cunning and would be a hot commodity for the state had she desired to be so. Alas, only loathing existed for her place of birth as she could decipher a part of a whole truth behind the spins that the Octarian agency put on ways of life through her calculative investigative skills. Such lying was sickening to the reality she conjured as a result of the research she collected from contraband items and discussions with "shady" individuals. Thus, she knew that there was a better way of life. One only attainable by choosing to be no longer a part of the place she had called home for her entire life. A chance for a new future was the reasoning behind her typing. Why was she filling out an immigration document allowing her to become a part of the dream city, Inkopolis, a place full of limitless potential? At least, that was the way it was constantly described to her by everyone who used to be around her. On the playground, she would hear loud whispers of a place where colour was embraced, a discrepancy to the life in the valley, where everything was merely a shade of grey, and the towns and cities within were as bleak and dreary as possible. But that was the way of the valley. Pursuing freedom was seen as a dissenting action against the Octarian state for which an individual was severely punished. Most would not ever think of running the risk, as getting caught not only meant that your life became forfeited to the state, but those of your family would also be taken under their possession. Yet, given the absence of family in her life, such a risk would be worth considering for Gloria. Her parents had vanished when she was six years old, and her older sister, who ended up raising her, disappeared shortly after Gloria's sixteenth birthday to help assist with some conflicts just outside of the valley, doing so as a part of mandatory military service that all Octarians had to take part in. Gloria's was scheduled for the next week, so leaving before she was forced into the military would be risky due to a technicality where she would be considered a deserter. However, she did not want to face the potential scarring and brainwashing that could take place as a result of being a part of the Octavian military.

Those who partook in the mandatory duty often came out brainwashed. Additionally, there was a good chance that prospecting dissenters would be given the heinous hypno shades that would forcefully take control of one's mind. So Gloria knew that she needed to leave as soon as she could. She swiftly moved her mouse over to the print button on the PDF page before selecting her printer. She was then taken to the printing preview page, where she made all the last preparations before the page finally began to print. Once she heard the start-up of her printer, she closed her laptop and reached down to her bag next to her chair. She then proceeded to hunch over and place the computer into the backpack as the printer pressed the ink to the page. Her next move was to get out of the chair and pick up the backpack from the top strap before swinging it around her left shoulder. It contained all the necessary paperwork to claim residency in Inkopolis and other essentials such as cash, toiletries, etc. When the page finally popped out from the printer, she pivoted over to it, gently pulling it out with the tips of her thumb and pointer finger before moving it into a manilla envelope she had next to the printer. She then licked the top of the envelope and closed it, but not before placing the file in the envelope. Afterwards, she would slip it inside her bag next to her laptop. Lastly, she would turn off her printer and unplug it before turning off the lights for what she thought would be the last time. Then she closed her door before walking to the front door of the small family home where joy always fleeted, never lingering, while instead, the environment allowed for pain and sorrow to fester within their inhabitants. However, Gloria merely closed her eyes as she walked towards the front door, wishing for her eyes not to make contact with the place that had intensified her loneliness. At the front door, she slipped into her running shoes and tied the laces tightly before grasping hold of a set of dualies pegged up against the wall. She knelt on her right knee and holstered them up, one on each hip, before standing back up. She reached for the doorknob, but stopped briefly, taking a deep breath, releasing any animosity that would be opposed to this decision. Then she finally opened it.