The aftermath of a Salmon Run was always a dull, if welcome affair. Beaten and battered crews had the chance to recuperate and rest while on their way back to Inkopolis. A chance to shed their stress. It was a normal ritual for employees of Grizzco, from the newbies to the Profreshionals. Under ordinary circumstances, it would be yet another one of those times.
Suffice to say, the current circumstances were far from ordinary.
The four workers (and one unconscious stranger) were finally back on the boat and huddled under the ship's deck. While technically a space to rest and shelter from the occasional spat of bad weather, the hollowed area was still cramped by all sorts of equipment; Nets, spare work suits, helmets, and the smell of salted metal. Some of the clutter had been cleared out near the back, allowing a bit of cramped space for the crews.
Marius, Rio, Vista, and Celia were huddled around an ancient brick of a computer. Mr. Grizz was an avid believer of the phrase 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it,' and thus saw no problem was his employees using such old hardware. Despite its age and exposure to the elements, it still worked somewhat well.
Or rather, it usually did, because the number plastered on the outdated UI surely was an error.
GOLDEN EGG COUNT: 307
POWER EGG COUNT: ERR
Surely an error, if one were to ignore the rather comical amount of golden eggs and power eggs in crates and baskets all around them.
"Yep..." Marius nodded, tapping the side of the old monitor, "Three hundred and seven golden eggs… and I think we broke the power egg counter. This may be a new record."
A low whistle came from Celia, "We are so going to hit a payday with this."
Rio nodded, her mind swimming with the possibilities. If nothing else, they would have quite the nice cash boost to ride off of, maybe even for a few weeks if they played their cards right. Though if that meant subsisting on more rice and beans… it may not be worth it… but still...
"Three hundred and seven golden eggs… " A giant grin was plastered across Vista's face, "That's something to be proud of."
"Granted, most of them came from the Mothership," Marius stated, "...I still can't quite believe that happened."
He ran a free hand over the Stranger's charger, which he hadn't let out of his sight since the shift had ended. Considering that its owner had collapsed at the end of the shift, he felt it was his responsibility to keep it safe. That, and it was the least he deserved, considering the effort it had taken to get this stranger to the ship. For once, they actually had an excuse to use the emergency dinghy the ship held.
Thus, the Stranger was propped up against the hull under the deck, while the boat safely made its way back to Inkopolis. Marius had swiped their charger as soon as they were secure. Its plastic covering had already partially cracked, and he didn't want any more damage to befall it.
"Me neither. I mean, has a Mothership ever been destroyed before?" Rio questioned, "That has to have happened at some point."
"No, actually," Celia said, "They've been damaged to the point of retreat, but one has never been destroyed like that," she glanced at the charger, "Until now. Those Madai freaks are going to have a field day with that. Speaking of… Marius, what have you found out about the weapon?"
Marius picked it up from his side, "Not much. I can't find anywhere to connect an ink tank to it, but… I don't think it was firing ink." He pulled a small section of plastic from the bottom of the charger.
"This part comes off, but when I do take it out, the whole charger seems to… well, I'm not sure. Power down maybe?"
He shook his head. "This is something else entirely."
In the quiet of the cabin, the statement reverberated with ominous reverence. Vista was the first to break it.
"Power down? What's that supposed to mean? Is it a powered weapon? Like a Dynamo Roller or an Explosher?"
"Vista, if you don't know, I sure as shell don't!" he replied, "You're the powered weapons expert here, not me."
Rio butted in, "Guys! Why don't we all calm down here?"
Marius rolled his eyes, but softened up, "To be honest… Well… I don't quite know," he admitted, lightly rolling the charger in his hand, "There's a small little light on the side of it that flickers off whenever I remove it, as well as some sparks. It's probably just an external battery, but it's quite the odd design."
"I don't think I've ever heard of a powered charger…" Celia added.
"Technically, an E-Liter is powered, but that's semantics." Vista admitted, "That's besides the point though. Could I see the battery?"
Vista turned it over in her hands, examining it critically. Everyone waited with bated breath for her verdict.
"...I think this is a magazine," she finally said softly, eyes glued to the plastic object in her hands.
"A magazine?" Celia asked, "That doesn't look like one… are pages in there?"
"No, no! Not something you read. Look… it's… well… but why would that charger use one...?" Vista mused, pacing around the cramped cabin.
"Vista, what the shell are you talking about?" Marius quipped.
"It's…" She reached an ungloved hand into it, pulling out a tiny bit of metal. Everyone craned closer to take a look. "Yeah. This is a piece of ammunition. It's a, well… it's a discarded Octarian weapon theory."
"Ammunition? What are you-" Celia started, but was cut off by Rio, "How does that work?"
"Well… it's kind of like… Hm." Vista stuttered, but clutched an explanation, "You know how a charger inflicts most of its harm, right?" Marius nodded, but Rio and Celia shook their heads.
"Ok. Well, most of the real injuries from a charger shot are caused by the kinetic force of the shot. Only a small amount of ink actually hits the target, but since it's at such a high velocity, the ink can easily splat someone. I can only presume the same is happening with this..." She brought a tiny metal piece up, clutched by her thumb and pointer finger.
"So what you're saying is…?" Celia trailed off, still not quite grasping what Vista was saying.
"Somehow, that charger is accelerating this bit of metal to extreme speeds, and judging by the crack after each discharge, supersonic ones, at the very least. And because all that force is in such a small area…" She shuddered slightly, "We all saw what happened."
"So then, why isn't it in use?" Rio asked, "It could be useful for our job."
"Because," Vista sighed, "they never found out how to make it viable. It was just a theory. There were a few attempts with every method they could think of; liquid pressure, air pressure, springs, the like, but no real solution was found."
She took a quick breath, "I know there were a few successes, but they proved to be too impractical for mass use, especially compared to regular ink weapons."
"So you're saying…" Rio edged.
"It was just a pipe dream. There's a reason they gave up on it and stuck with conventional ink weapons." She shrugged, giving the charger a look.
Such a simple and plain looking thing...
"...but whoever made this charger figured out how to bypass those restrictions,." Marius said quietly.
After a long moment of silence, Celia finally broke it, "We need to find out who they are." No one responded, but they all nodded.
Rio went first, running her hands over the odd, gray plastic that made up the Stranger's suit. It hadn't torn at all, yet it was nowhere near as thick as their overalls.
Durable enough to withstand a stingray beam, yet malleable as her own clothing…?
"I don't see a zipper at all on this thing." She finally said.
"Turn him on his back?" Marius suggested.
A bit of awkward positioning was all it took, but the effort proved fruitless. There wasn't any obvious way to get the suit itself off, unlike the backpack; they'd managed to open a pair of clips on the straps, freeing it from a partial plastic prison. On the suit itself one long seam running from the neck to the posterior was evident, but nothing they did could get it open. No zippers, clips, nothing. It remained stuck, as if the person within had been sewn permanently within.
"Hm… any ideas, Vista?" Celia asked, but didn't receive a response.
Rather than standing at attention, Vista was going through the Stranger's odd backpack, which thankfully, did open.
"Vista!" Celia said, voice raised. Vista flinched, but didn't stop digging through it.
"Forget about them, Celia! Look at all of this!" She had already fished out what was presumably another set of the Stranger's clothes; a rather formal attire, if she were honest. A wooden, framed picture came out next, as well as a sheathe of official looking papers.
Rio cautiously picked up the picture, running a thumb over the glass. A few cracks ran through the glass, but it was mostly intact. The picture itself was of an assembly of Inklings (or Octolings, she couldn't tell) wearing lab coats. About twenty, by her count. She couldn't quite make out their features (they were too far away from the camera), but something felt… off, about them. She couldn't put her finger on why; something about their faces?
"You have to take a look at this, Marius. Can you make any sense of this?" She asked, handing the frame off to him.
Vista continued rooting through the backpack, scattering more of its contents over the floor. A few small metal canisters, odd pieces that barely reassembled batteries, and plenty of electrical refuse and scrap bits. Many had been spread out over the floor, surrounding Vista like a spread of Church of Madai offerings.
Rio grabbed another object, the paper sheathe. Rifling through it revealed it to be a messwork of official looking documents. Official in how they looked, though the language they were written in was indecipherable. She'd seen nothing like it.
"Something about this picture is off." Marius said, having finished looking over it, "I don't know what, but it's giving me a bad vibe."
Meanwhile, Celia was crouched by the side of the Stranger. She was holding a small knife, no doubt salvaged from the junk, and was trying to cut through the Stranger's suit. Several dark mutterings came from her as she tried to do so.
"Vista!" Celia barked, "Come over here."
Vista extricated herself from the mess of possessions, quickly joining Celia's side.
"This is plastic, right?" A nod, "Then why won't it cut?"
"What?" Vista asked, "Why wouldn't it?"
"Just look." She had grabbed a handful of the slack material to stab through, but the point of the knife could only stretch it taut. Even with all the strength Celia put behind the knife, it wouldn't pierce.
"...I've never seen anything like this." Vista muttered, "I'd wager this is why they didn't splat. Completely inktight, by my reckoning." She ran a finger over the plastic layer, "They're just achieving impossibility after impossibility, it seems."
"No kidding," it didn't escape Celia's notice how Vista's eyes had diluted.
Rio turned back, appraising the rest of the stuff with a critical eye. Tools, tools, more of those little metal bits, what looked like batteries… and that formal clothing of course. By Cod, she felt choked just looking at it. It was like something her dad would wear to church, more restrictive than a straight-jacket.
It also looked like there was something wrapped up in all the clothes. Fishing it out revealed it to be a weird, rugged-looking phone of some kind, if the very rectangular form factor was any indication. Though, it was a boring old brick with old-school buttons on it, as opposed to the more fresh squid or octopus-shaped touchscreen designs that were all the rage.
Fiddling with it for a moment, she managed to turn on the phone, immediately being greeted with the bright glow of a dated-yet-familiar interface, yet entirely alien to her. The screen was overlaid by a myriad of symbols that were so familiar, yet as impossible as the writing on those papers.
And that was where she hit a brick wall. She clicked around a bit with the face buttons, but got nowhere - anything that resembled a messaging app or an image gallery seemed to be password protected, and she wasn't exactly wanting to sit and brute-force passwords all day long.
"Any luck?" Vista asked. She had gone back to sorting through the Stranger's backpack, though about everything had been taken out.
"Nah, anything useful's got some kind of password, or passcode, or something." Rio replied, giving the worn phone another look.
"Mind if I try?"
"Sure." Thus, the phone was tossed.
Vista promptly began working on the phone, biting her bottom lip as she did so.
"...I can't get in either." Vista said, "Though I swear, I've seen this language somewhere."
"The documents?" Rio suggested helpfully.
"No, not those. I mean, from somewhere else… it's…" She sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead.
"Something wrong?" Rio asked.
"No, no… I just need to check on something later." Vista said, giving a slight nod. Despite the coolness of the night, sweat had begun to bead her brow.
"Hey, guys!" Marius nearly shouted, "I think I figured this thing out a little!" he hefted the Stranger's charger, now humming and sparking slightly.
"Let me guess; you put that thing you detached back in?" Celia quipped, giving him a stink eye.
"No! Not just that, look at this!" He brought the charger closer, "I found this little screen that flips out from this side-" true to his word, a little screen stood out perpendicular from the main charger body, close to the trigger. "I don't know what it means, but it's a start."
"A screen? Who would put something like that on a charger?" Rio questioned, "Any ideas?"
"Mind if I take a look?" Vista asked. The charger was handed to her a second later. She took a close look at the screen, then a small, protruding knob on the other side of the weapon. She idly fiddled with the knob, causing a bar on the screen to move around from the action.
"...I think this is a diagnostic screen," Vista started, "if I had to guess, it probably monitors the systems in this thing." She noticed one symbol in particular; a small red triangle with an odd-looking exclamation point in the center, positioned in the top right corner. It was blinking rapidly, drawing the eye.
"And it needs that, why…?" Celia trailed off.
"I have no idea," Vista shrugged, "The very existence of this charger defies logic. For cod's sake, it uses solid ammunition Celia! Solid ammunition! I can't even fathom how it's doing that!" She growled in frustration, tossing the heavy charger back to Marius, rather than handing it over.
Unfortunately, Marius wasn't prepared for the throw. He fumbled the catch, dropping the charger on accident. It hit the ground with a dull clunk, landing on its stock. A brief flash of electricity flung itself across the weapon at the impact.
Marius's face went pale.
"Why would you-!"
CRACK!
Have you ever woken up in a rush of panic? Peacefully sleeping one moment; the next, you're wide awake, lethargy overridden by adrenaline?
It was with this same energy that the Stranger awoke with. Even with the shutdown his body forced upon him, the distinct, deafening discharge of his magnetic rifle had been enough to reawaken him.
But unlike when he had woken from cryo, his mind was anything but peaceful. He shot up to his feet, eyes darting about. He had been laying on the floor in a dark dingy room, the only illumination coming from a few dim bulbs hung from the ceiling. It was overcrowded with miscellaneous… fishing equipment?
The floor shifted under him, bringing about a mild wave of nausea. Where the hell was he?
Around him were the four from earlier, all cringing on the floor, hands over their pointed ears. They were shouting out in that bubbly language of theirs.
Was… that crack from his…? Did they really…?
He noticed a hole in the ceiling, smoking slightly.
Oh Lord, they did fire it.
Why the hell would they think that was a good idea? Barring the obvious riff of firing a gun indoors, the amplification of the iconic "crack!" of a gauss weapon could easily deafen anyone who was in here. That would explain the ringing in his ears… and why he was awake too, he supposed.
The rifle itself was lying near the male one. He must have been the one to pull the trigger.
Idiot.
He scooped it up. Various cracks now criss-crossed its otherwise smooth surface, and there were a few small sparks emanating from the barrel as well. Had it been crushed, or…?
Oh, right.
He remembered firing it repeatedly, one shot after another, at that brick-shaped behemoth of a UFO. The nonstop stress on the components, and the beating it invariably took more than likely did this. Having upped the power usage during his, ahem, meltdown certainly didn't help.
And of course he didn't bring any of those replacement parts they had back at Polaris. God dammit! To worsen things, a quick sweep of the room also revealed his backpack, which had obviously been rifled through. Great!
It only took a moment to shovel everything back into it. It was a tad concerning to think that they had gone through his only possessions… but, if the roles were reversed, he would have done the same. He couldn't particularly blame them, but really!
Everything in tow, he climbed out of the room via a small ladder in the back. Up to the-
He was on a boat. The same boat he had seen on that island. How did he…?
That train of thought ran itself into the ground.
"Oh…" he mumbled to himself, taking in the sights.
Night had properly come, the only light coming from a waxing, crescent moon. It was beautiful, especially to the moon, but the stars were blotted out by the city's light pollution. a depressing, dull hue that hung over the sky like an infection.
Of course, that meant the city was much closer, so… silver lining? He would have preferred the unmolested night sky, with all the stars and planets and stuff. Still, he was thankful to be so close to civilization. He really didn't need a repeat of… everything that happened the past few hours.
He walked to the boat's side, the one facing the city. At the railing, his body sagged against it. It wasn't broken, per say, but he was hurting all over. An ERA was meant for environmental protection first and foremost, not for whatever had happened on that island. It protected him well enough from that green ink, but not those frying pans.
Damn frying pans…
It was all behind him now, though.
...
He didn't remember how long he stood against the railing, looking out onto the city that slowly came closer. By then, the pain had diminished from a shrill scream to a dull roar. Metaphorically, of course. His… everything ached something fierce, his chest especially.
Ugh...
Still… he slumped back over the railing. What he wouldn't give to even have some painkillers, much less a hospital room. But even such simple medicine felt out of reach.
Who was he kidding? They were quite literally out of reach. Even when they reached the city, he wasn't going to be able to waltz into anywhere and demand painkillers, especially when he couldn't even speak the language.
The truth of his situation hadn't quite sunk in previously, but he began to feel the full weight bear down upon him.
He was cut off from Polaris. He wasn't even sure where it was anymore; the metallic island was nowhere in sight, and he couldn't even remember where the entrance was located underwater.
How the hell was he going to get back there?!
That was an issue, but his mind couldn't help but prickle painfully at the thought of the others. While he was above ground and awake, they were still entombed underground, frozen in time. It was a terrifying thought, but one infused with guilt. Why was he the one who was lucky to escape? And he just went and lost them!
He needed to get back there as soon as possible. The alternatives… he didn't want to think about it.
He was shut out from the others, and now trapped with these pseudo-humans. And if these beings even existed in the first place…
...Did they exist in the past? For all he knew, the cryonics may have fried his memory.
He wracked his mind, trying to remember… his family he could remember, blurry as they were. His roommate from college. Friends, colleagues… yes, he remembered them. His name…?
He felt a spike of panic when he couldn't recall it immediately. What was it!?
He'd seen it on the goddamn computer screen, output in plaintext by a schizophrenic AI!
Why couldn't he remember it!
…
He groaned, head aching for the umpteenth time today.
Yeah… If one thing was certain, these creatures were new, and he had no way of communicating with them, and that's not even mentioning the concussions being around them during the fishy clusterfuck no doubt gave him.
They just had to shatter his immediate hopes. Leave him stranded with pain and anguish, both physical and mental.
Damn them! Damn them to…
…No.
No. It wasn't their fault. They were the ones who had to shatter the illusion of triumph he held, sure, but they could have been anyone. Still though, if they existed, and by extension those fishy freaks, the chances of humanity proper still being around outside their bunkers and shelters fell significantly. Especially since the pseudo-humans spoke an entirely un… human language.
Yes, un-human. Those sounds were entirely unnatural.
It was a horrible feeling. A wriggling, churning fear and confusion that refused to abate itself. Even in his mentally dull state, it was sharp as an electric knife. His grip on the edge tightened.
Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore...
"Alright… so, what should we do?" Celia asked, hushed. The four were on deck, taking refuge on the stairs and hiding behind the small control cabin.
"Hide?" Marius asked, somewhat snarky, "He has his charger back, and I don't think he took too kindly to us rummaging through his stuff."
"If they did, they probably would have already tried something." Celia shot back. "...there wasn't anything we could have done." She unconsciously rubbed her right ear, muttering, "I swear, if I get tinnitus from that…"
"That aside, I could just… I don't know, knock them out?" Vista said, "Just kinda sneak up on them, and then…" she mimed slamming down an imaginary roller, "That would probably work?"
"Last resort." Celia replied, shaking her head. "Regardless, we need to do something. Any ideas, Rio?"
"Um… I like Marius' idea," she stammered.
"And you don't want to be their friend?" Celia asked, somewhat mockingly, "So unlike you."
Rio blushed, eyes downward.
"Oh, lay off her!" Marius hissed, "Take this seriously!"
Celia rolled her eyes, "I am! Listen, I don't think they're an enemy. Just… someone walk up and say hi. Not like anything bad will happen..."
"Harmle- are you insane?" Vista muttered intensely, "I have a few hunches about who they could be, and none of them paint a good picture." Her roller was clutched in a vice grip, "Were you watching during the shift?"
"Listen, I was! Vista, just trust me on this one here." Celia placated, "If they really were going to do something, they would've after their charger went off."
"No, you trust me!" Vista shouted, "That person could be…! Someone..." She trailed off, realizing that she had devolved to shouting.
Whoops...
The stranger had turned from the railing to look at the cabin, and by extension, the figures hiding behind it. Thankfully, they were just staring, rather than pointing their charger at them. It was a variable stalemate.
...
They turned back to stare over the edge.
"Looks like it's up to you," Marius said, elbowing Celia slightly, "Why don't you go say hi?" A small, smarmy smile was on his lips.
"Oh, shut up." she muttered to him. Still, he was right, in a sense. Someone had to confront them. It was either that, or hide below deck until they made it back to the dock. And… that particular thought wasn't a happy one.
She sighed, but slowly stepped out, and began walking.
It didn't take long for the stranger to spot her. At the sight of her, they looked back up from their railing, shifting slightly. Any words that sprung to mind died in her throat.
They stood in a minor standstill, until the Stranger called out something entirely incomprehensible with a little wave. Upon hearing their voice, the group cringed. It was tenor, unfathomably sore, like metal on sandpaper, not to mention speaking a wholly rough tongue. Each syllable was oddly punctuated, unlike their own flowing speech.
At the very least, Celia figured the Stranger was male. That was a male voice, even with how mangled it was.
"Oh… oh carp," Celia muttered, swallowing in fear. Despite her previous thoughts (and talk), the voice was entirely alien. It threw her off guard; it couldn't have belonged to any cephalopod. But that begged the question of what this person was.
Regardless, she had to say something, anything.
"Um… hi."
Very inspired.
The Stranger made some horrific 'euh, hee yei?' noise, a pitiful attempt at imitating her. Even under a mask, Celia could tell the man was cringing, too.
She didn't know where else to really start, though. His inflection was off, mistimed syllables, strange accent, she could go on and on. But that dry quality of his voice made the words almost unrecognizable, not to mention how horribly he said them.
He went away from the railing, taking a step to her, then another. Though Celia supposed steps was a generous descriptor. It was more of him limping. She couldn't help but wince at the display.
Was he concussed? It could explain some things.
She matched his steps, taking a few forward. Unlike the Stranger, however, she remained poised, dignified, carefully measuring her steps and keeping her back straight. In a sense, this was their first proper introduction. And whoever he may be, they may as well try to start off on a good foot.
Both stood only mere feet from each other. Confidently, she held out a hand…
C'mon, take it...
With a bit of visible trepidation, the Stranger took her hand.. His grip was surprisingly strong, even if it was equally as shaky. The handshake was short lived, as he quickly wrenched his hand away, backing up slightly.
Celia did as well, returning to the other three. The Stranger had shakily returned to his spot at the bow, staring back at Inkopolis.
...
"So," Celia finally said, clapping her hands together, "That… went well?"
Marius shrugged, "I guess? ...I don't know. Language barrier aside, of course. What was he speaking, actually?"
Vista shook her head, "Whatever they spoke, it wasn't Aquatic."
"Him, Vista," Celia said, "I'm fairly certain he's a guy."
"I knew it!" Marius shouted, though it was cut off with a punch from Celia, finger over her lips.
"Look… I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm heading down now to rest a bit." Vista said, "I'm really not looking forward to explaining this to Mr. Grizz."
"I… have to agree with you," Celia said, tiredly, "I'll join you."
"Well…" Rio mumbled, "I think I'll stay up here, if that's fine."
"Suit yourself. Marius?" Celia said.
"Nah."
Vista huffed, "Enjoy the fresh air." The two quickly descended back into the bowels of the ship.
Marius kept an eye on the two as they departed. When they disappeared from sight, he turned to Rio.
"Ok, Rio, why did you want to stay up here?"
She sighed, "It's going to sound kind of stupid, but… well… look at him! Look… it's a friend thing, ya know?"
"...Are you really letting what Celia said get to you that much?" Marius dubiously replied.
"Just let me have this, please!"
"But, why though?"
She ignored him, instead walking over to where the Stranger was. With no fanfare or words, she plopped down by him, similarly leaning against the railing. He didn't seem to mind.
Marius couldn't help but shake his head. Sometimes, he just couldn't understand her.
...yeah. It was nice to have some company.
Even if his company were two of those pseudo-humans. What they were still confused him to no end, and he had the feeling he wouldn't be getting any answers.
Up close to them, even in the dimming light, he could make out a few final features of theirs. The few bits of exposed skin on them looked rather moist, like it was perpetually wet. It was a translucent quality that made him squirm a bit. Like… a slug's skin, except not. Pointy ears, as well.
Clearly, their existence was meant to drive him mad. Fish-human elf hybrids, specifically designed to be profoundly confusing for him.
Appearances aside, he was making progress, and every meter closer they traveled to the city, he was… getting… somewhere…?
It was difficult enough to stay awake, he didn't need any… complex thoughts on top of it. He needed to… just… stay awake until he could get to somewhere safe and rest.
Still, still… he had his… friends(?)... by his side.
Curly, Braid. They were both absent, but what about the other two…?
Right, right… he hadn't… nick-named them yet. Heh.
Well, there was that one female, the one with that wavy tentacle going down the side of her face. She kind of reminded him of a… hippie? Something about her expression, stance screamed it, even if she was pensive, tired all out.
...Tie-Dye felt weirdly appropriate. He felt that the unflattering overalls they wore only dulled her vibrant aura. He could almost see her aura.
Or maybe he did have brain damage. His thoughts were already muddy enough.
Now that he thought about it, their overalls more resembled the equipment farmers used in cranberry bogs back home, back in the Dakotas. He could really go for some cranberry grape juice right now. Still though, why bright oran-
Getting off topic again. He had a feeling Tie-Dye would really fit her, if they had any casual clothing at all.
And then the last one, the only guy in the group, standing awkwardly still by the cabin. Not being cool and all like Tie-Dye.
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for him; did he have any guy friends? Regardless, this male kind of… well… he had no idea what to use as a nickname. Boring hair (or tentacles), kind of gave off a solemn vibe… cripes, maybe even a bit emo… nah.
Kind of like how he was at this kid's age… how old were they, actually? They looked to be about… eighteen? Nineteen? Well, young adults, at the very least?
...do they pupate?
Getting off track again. What would be a good nickname...
...until he came up with a better one, he was just going to use Boring. Ha! What a freak!
Yeah, there was his subconscious talking. Not much he could do, except sleep.
Sleep...
...He needed sleep. But he… need… awake…
His head fell into his crossed arms.
…
Zzz…
…
Bump.
Huh?
…
Oh. They had arrived.
The city, up close, was less than stellar. He blamed the distance for deceiving him. The skyline was impressive, majestic even, but it certainly hid the dark underbelly that were the docks.
Several shorter, dirty buildings lined the pier, as well as several equally shoddy boats shackled to the shore. There was barely any light, save for a few barely functioning lamps lining the streets.
Unlit, dark, grimy, and stout. A supposed den of deceit and danger.
This potential mire was where he'd have to find his salvation. Great.
As much as he wanted to give in, go along with those pseudo-humans, he just… couldn't. He couldn't trust them. If he were just a lone survivor, no strings attached to his psyche, he might have. But he wasn't. There was too much that could be lost if he threw himself at their mercy. There was too much to risk.
(That, and the dead Polaris doctor's visage was still burned into his psyche. He didn't want to end up like him.)
The choice was easy. He needed to stay free, whatever the cost. And these docks proved to be the perfect escape.
It was funny, in a sense. An otherwise terrifying place granting him refuge. He couldn't be scared of the dark if it protected him! Technically, he was the monster in the dark, right?
And all he had to do was wait for them to dock…
…
As soon as the boat brushed up against the dock, he acted.
He quickly vaulted over the side and landed unsteadily on his feet. He grunted in pain; despite his rest, he was still beaten and bruised. Only time would heal him, and time wasn't something he had.
He limped his way from the thin, wooden dock to the stony pier proper. His legs screamed in pain, but he managed. He needed to be quick; he didn't know how long those four would be below deck, but he didn't want to-
A squiggly, soapy shout came from the boat. He had barely turned back to see, only for Tie-Dye to vault from the boat onto the dock. Her eyes were drilled onto his form, boring a hole through his ERA into his friggin' soul.
Shit! Plan B!
He ran, going along the waterline, Tie-Dye close on his tail. One foot in front of the other, his weary legs burning from the exertion. His lungs were on fire, heart tearing, but he couldn't stop. He could barely see in the dark beyond the ERA mask's lenses, all of his concentration focused on not tripping and plummeting into the drink.
Unfortunately, Tie-Dye wouldn't let up, and from one of his hurried glances behind him, he could see two other shadows running behind her. No doubt aiding her in her chase. And if they caught him…
Maybe it wouldn't be too bad…
The thought almost made him stop, but he powered on. No, no! He was not going to risk what could very well be the most important charge of his life, just because he felt tired!
He couldn't keep running forever, though. Even with his adrenaline high, he was already beginning to stumble and tire. And yet, they were still behind him, like a group of jackals chasing their prey. There had to be a-
CLACK!
He had been running dangerously close to the edge of the pier, and his boot had caught on an errant stone. With how hard he had been listing to the side, there was only one way this was going to play out.
With only the briefest of 'woah's!' he plummeted into the water below, a massive splash left in his wake.
"Rio, wait!" Marius shouted, panting. He and Vista had been running to catch up to Rio. She had stopped running, and was instead staring into the pier. The stranger was nowhere in sight.
They reached her a moment later, both huffing and wheezing. Rio ignored them, still staring into the water.
"...he fell in." She muttered softly, eyes watching the ripples.
"What?" Vista asked, still bent over.
"I… Wait, hold on. I can still save him!" Rio shouted, "That thing he was wearing; surely it's waterproof!"
"Save him? Ho-" Marius was cut off by Rio diving into the water.
"Rio!" He shouted, diving to catch her. Unfortunately, he missed, and fell into the water himself, joining her in experiencing the biggest (and most hypocritical) flaw of cephalopodkind.
Vista could only stare where the two had fallen off. Slowly she approached the edge to look down.
Sure enough, two life-preservers bobbed on the waves, a spirit bobbing within each one. A hand came to her forehead.
"You two are hopeless. You know that, right?"
Nothing came from the two life-preservers.
Vista sighed, shaking her head, "I'll get a fishing pole."
/ REWRITE A/N: /
Hey, FalkenJr here. I'm the artist for the fic, as well as being the guy more or less leading the charge on rewriting THE POLARIS PROJECT to be much more high quality, in line with later chapters.
As of writing this, I'm not exactly sure if Piston's gone back and retroactively indicated that the past 3 chapters were rewritten, but they were - in January 2023. Around chapter 15 or so, he brought up the idea of going back and updating earlier chapters to match the quality standards set by newer chapters - after ch. 14 or so me and two others (SpoopyTheScout and iDrmzIt) became editors for the fic.
With us three helping Piston with story stuff and chapter edits, the fic's quality has hopefully jumped up pretty far compared to what it used to be. Granted, I'm sure some of you are reading this for the first time, so I can't exactly discuss what's been changed and how, but hopefully these changes will make your experience much better!
You'll be seeing more of these REWRITE A/N's in future chapters (and probably in earlier ones too) as more of them get updated to match our new quality standard. Whether you're rereading THE POLARIS PROJECT or brand new to the fic, we hope you enjoy what Piston and the rest of us have put together!
With that, I'll turn it over to Piston from almost 3 years ago, with the original A/N from the previous version of this chapter:
/ PISTON A/N: /
Holy hell, three years… Time flies when you're having fun, right?
/ ORIGINAL A/N: /
Before saying anything else, I'd like to give a huge thanks to Ancientdragonduelist. He was a huge help with editing and finalizing this chapter, and I feel this chapter is much better as a result. Speaking of, I forgot to mention earlier that Rio and Vista aren't two characters I created. They were created by a friend of mine named Starbrite, and I apologize for forgetting to mention that at an earlier point.
So…
I'm going to try and improve these authors' notes. Looking back, they've been rather stiff and off-putting, and as such, I'm hoping to change that. So... let's try this.
This chapter acts as a transition point for what I can only describe as the main story. And for the main story itself... I still need to finish planning it all out. Granted, I know how I want this story to continue, but I need to finish properly planning everything. I do have enough planned to continue writing for a while still, so it should not prove to be an issue. I'm also starting to notice a pattern of it taking about 2 months or so per chapter; I'll see if I can reduce that time, but I can't promise anything. Life is busy, and it does take a while to write these. I apologize for that.
Finally, I really appreciate all the kind words and feedback I've been receiving. It's extraordinarily satisfying to know that you all have been enjoying the story this far, and I hope to prove true to your expectations going forward. It's the motivation that keeps me going, and I'm very happy to say that we're just getting started here. I hope you decide to stick around for it, however long it may take.
Thanks for reading, and see you next time!
