"So… Let me get this straight; you and Eight were serious about all those stories? Like, no exaggerations whatsoever?"

When Three had emerged from her long mission in the Metro, speaking of the most incredibly improbable sights and experiences, Four had taken some elements of her story with a grain of salt.

After all, could an entire, unknown society buried under the ocean really exist? And that didn't even factor in the seemingly insane things down there too, such as, as Three had stated word for word, 'a place positively brimming with electromagnetic interference and vast spaces of nothingness, where dreams bleed into reality.'

Literally, word for word.

It sounded more like some twisted fairy tale, one her mom would tell her to keep her delinquent self in line. Much like the drywall she tried to eat as a child, the story didn't quite jive with her. It was simply too fantastic and inane to properly comprehend.

Not to imply that Four doubted Three's experiences; she was almost a big sister to her, and her trust in Three was absolute. But equally, Four's ability to suspend her disbelief could only stretch so far. Four certainly did take her word at face value, but only somewhat. She herself could barely conceptualize what Three had told her of, and were it not for the Captain's and Eight's testimonies, her trust in Three may not have sufficed.

Because, holy shell, Three had been describing things that sounded downright schizophrenic in nature. Perhaps that was why Four was currently reeling.

Seeing this all firsthand was something else entirely, even if it was just the outer layers.

For what felt like an hour, Four had followed Three down through the Inkopolis underground, a mish-mash of sewers and subways. They had entered from the Deca Plaza subway, and through a winding, abandoned tunnel network that Three navigated with no trouble. How she remembered the path so vividly, Four couldn't say.

Even with Three's quickly healing leg, they made good time.

Despite this, they kept going deeper and deeper, decrepit concrete stairways one of the only constants in this twisted journey. Floodlights illuminated the space, reminding her that at this depth, they were the only souls around. At one point, she swore her ears popped from how deep they had gone.

Already, just seeing these tunnels was blowing her mind. She knew about the old kettle tunnels down here leading to the Valley and Canyon, respectively, but never had she considered that some paths might branch deeper. And oh dear, how far deep these branches went.

Four had heard plenty of rumors from the more conspiratorial of her kind that the city had been built over the ruins of an ancient civilization, potentially human judging by the sheer volume of artifacts located in the area.

She'd figured a lot of these theories were total exaggerations, or ghost stories made up to scare children, but then again; who would build all these tunnels under Inkopolis? The city was almost one-hundred years old, sure, but even then…

Four shivered. If this truly was the case, then what other dark human-y secrets could be lurking down here? And for that matter, who set up the floodlights, and how were they getting power?

A mystery for later.

Eventually, the stairs finally relented, depositing them who knows how deep underground, right in front of several rusted turnstiles. Four vaulted over, while Three stayed on the other side.

A small subway station greeted them beyond the turnstiles. Like the deeper sections of this old underground, it was in poor shape. Trash was strewn about; wrappers for foods she didn't recognize, broken glass bottles, and discarded stickers. The few benches left in the station were rusted through, and to Four, nearly gave her tetanus from just looking at them. The only functional parts of the station were, of course, more haphazardly placed floodlights, bathing the area in a dim white light.

"Welcome to the Inkopolis station of the Deep Sea Metro." Three intoned, doing her best automated PA system impression (an incredibly sarcastic impression, if you asked Four.) "As you can tell, this is quite the popular stop."

Three lounged on the turnstile's bars, shuddering slightly. "You wouldn't believe how long it took me to find this station."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

Four was halfway listening. She was still awestruck that this station actually existed, and that she was standing inside of it. She could nod her head and agree that such a place existed, but to stand within it grounded her in a space not quite between fiction and reality. This place had always existed, hidden from everyone. Not a thought she really wanted to think about.

"You never told me, by the way," Four started, pulling out the CQ-88, "why shouldn't I 'go down any stairs?'" Never mind all the stairs they took to even get down here…

She fiddled with the device in vain, sighing slightly. "You mind?"

Wordlessly, Three took the device, and with a small twitch of her hand, brought up its holographic display. With the bend of its little joystick and the press of a few buttons, a map of the Metro's main subway system came up, before handing it back to Four. "There you go."

Just as she handed it back, however, a low rumbling overtook the station. Grit fell from the walls, steel groaned, and the lights flickered. It lasted for only a moment, but shook Four off balance, yet Three barely flinched.

Four looked to her, but just as she did so, an ancient intercom crackled to life.

"Attention please." it droned, tinny and stuttering. "Due to unexpected electromagnetic fluctuations, minor seismic activity and aftershocks may manifest within the next eight to twenty-four hours. Please plan your activities accordingly, and have a safe day!"

Three grimly nodded at the message. "...that's your answer on the stairs thing. Looks like something's been stirring up a whole lot of activity in the lower Metro; it's always noospheric energy creating those fluctuations. I'll bet my beak that it's the human."

And there Three went again, speaking of things that made no coddamn sense.

"And why would you think that?" Four asked, hand on her hip. Never mind whatever 'noospheric energy' was, she just needed to know what fueled Three's crazed logic.

Three shrugged. "I know some… things about how the Metro operates, but that's on a need-to-know basis. And come to think of it, you may need to know, actually."

Three fell quiet, deep in thought. A kind of struggle was visible on her, teal eyes flickering in brightness. Four waited attentively, curiosity burning her insides, yet counteracted by their eerie surroundings.

When she finally spoke, Four was rather creeped out. She swore that eyes were drilling into the back of her head.

"Well…" Three started, rubbing a temple in annoyance. "Cod, there's no easy way to talk about this. I know Eight was telling you stories about the downright impossible architecture of the place, the stations especially. And let me tell you, she wasn't exaggerating."

She sighed, before continuing.

"When I was… y'know, possessed," for a brief moment, her eyes glowed noticeably brighter, "I… was aware of my actions, I was in control, but my mental state was… distorted, in a sense. It was like a dream, where all my morals were tipped upside down."

Four nodded, taking a step back from her. She could feel a pit in her stomach opening.

"Even after it lost his grip on me, it still left its mark. Names, information, tidbits of human language… things that just whisper in the back of my mind, y'know? I never told you that I could understand some of the things that Stranger was saying back at the Dome, did I?"

Before Four could say anything, Three shook her head, sucking in another breath.

"That's getting off topic. My point is, there was something I remember, something burned into my brain by that damned AI. A 'Tartarus Initiative.' Phase Two. Something else down there, locked deep in the Metro. Something that should stay locked up."

"That's…"

Four… didn't have any idea of what Three was telling her. It was veritable word salad to her, yet Three's iron conviction backing up her statements nearly froze her blood. And the whole… possession thing too.

"Whatever the cost, Four, you need to keep the human from getting to it. Keep them away from the lower Metro, and from whatever that Initiative is. Got it?"

"I… I got it."

"Good."

As Three's words continued to process in Four's mind, a dull light peeked out from the subway tunnel, quickly growing in luminosity. The tinny voice came back on over the speakers, announcing the train's arrival.

"Metro train… zero, one… will be arriving at platform… B, zero, four, shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line, and wait."

Metal screeched upon metal as the subway train pulled into the station; its clean appearance, albeit heavily graffitied, contrasting heavily with the otherwise derelict station. As the doors opened, warm light spilled out. The cars appeared abandoned, no occupants in sight.

"And with that, it's all on you now." Three said, putting a hand on Four's shoulder. "Stay safe, and good luck."


In the dripping depths of the so-called 'Metro,' two humans (and one cephalopod) walked in relative quiet, the relative silence of the group broken by the occasional ramblings of one Emily Hawthorne.

She'd long given up on trying to hold an actual conversation with them, but the thought of talking to somebody else did something to soothe her nerves. Perhaps she was going nuts, or something. Whatever. It's the little things that help, or so they say.

What didn't help, though, was the gargantuan language barrier. That was a big thing, and it wasn't helping at all.

One of her companions was just as human as her, albeit seemingly brain fried by this nightmarish funhouse of a broken, subterranean facility. The other was an Aberrant girl, who practically clung to the guy (and was still clinging to him now, clearly wary of her, not that she blamed the poor girl.)

Regardless, neither of them could speak English after having left that drug trip of a powwow, which made her new duty as the Metro's 'tour guide' that much harder.

Emily's grip tightened on the small, glowing stone within her fist. Her one ace in the hole, hard-fought to obtain. If God did truly exist in these dark depths, He certainly possessed a twisted sense of humor. Or punishment, depending on the angle by which she'd studied her life.

It certainly would explain the Flood, and whatever theological insanity that it implied. Seeing spy-sat imagery of Earth completely blanketed by the oceans had already throttled her objectivity enough, and now, this 'Metro' was what broke it. She would never sleep right again.

Of course, such a train of thought implied the world centered around her, which… down here, actually, might be true.

She now held a physical representation of the Metro's irreality, proof that the 'shared dream' had been more than just an off-chance hallucination. If the Compass wasn't enough of an anchor, the human scientist from Polaris and his Aberrant friend 'Sally' were the concrete proof that shattered whatever feeble rationalizations she could have created.

On top of that, whatever facade the Metro may have possessed had crumpled, baring its true nature to their little misfit party.

Where once she may have held the barest inkling of being watched, she now felt intangible eyes boring holes through her neck, her face, her body. Things surrounded them, watching, observing, and both 'Sally' and the Polaris scientist could clearly feel it as well.

For better or worse, they had the undivided attention of the Metro, and it had no compulsions of hiding that particular fact. They no longer cared of whether their whispers were heard, or what flickering forms were at the edges of her vision. They wanted her to know that they were watching.

But, that alone wasn't concerning her.

It was the noises that she heard just at the edges of her hearing that had her tense. They were more… emotions than actual sound, and she couldn't tell if her ears were hearing them, or her mind was picking them up. She felt like a ball of tinfoil in a microwave, for lack of a better description-

BOLDLY THEY VENTURED

INTO MY DOMAIN UNASKED

NOW THEY FACE DEFEAT

-god, will whatever the fuck that is shut up!?

Ever since she'd gotten into this place, Emily kept hearing that stupid haiku creature making its equally stupid racket in the back of her head, constantly taunting them and being generally very edgy and annoying. Oh, when she gets her hands on it…

Hoo. That'll be fun. Now, where was she?

Oh, right. What else was freaking her out down here?

There was writing on the walls, some of it painted, others all but scratched into the walls around them. Some of it in English, the other in whatever mystery script the Polaris guy and his Aberrant friend could presumably read. It was an intense combination of cheering for their progress and decrying their existence.

KEEP GOING YOU GOT THIS

YOU WILL BE RENT ASUNDER AT THE MOLECULAR LEVEL

KEEP ON KEEPING ON

YOU THINK YOUR GUNS MAKE YOU SAFE

That one had to be her favorite. Fuck you too, Metro Freaks. For now, she was content with ignoring the ramblings.

Something fizzled at the edge of her consciousness, a minute wavering in her vision that wasn't caused by her APP mask's lenses. Shit. Not good.

Emily held out her hand, signaling for the two behind her to stop. Gestures seemed to be universal, as her companions immediately halted. Her eyes narrowed as she peered ahead, into the darkness before them.

Shimmering in the air again, like back there by the campfire. Another anomaly.

As quickly as it had appeared, it faded away. The air restabilized in front of her, whatever noospheric insanity the Metro had planted there having moved on. A quick check by way of a thrown empty plasma cartridge confirmed her suspicion, and they were back on the move.

The air felt heavier, the artifact in her hand imperceptibly glowing brighter and brighter as they walked. They were getting close, she could feel it.

As they waded their way through the maintenance tunnels and their veritable minefield of anomalies, she could hear the Polaris scientist muttering reassurances to 'Sally,' most likely empty platitudes of 'a jump, skip, and a hop, and we'll be out of this!' or more despicably, 'it'll be alright, just follow her!'

Leave it to a Polaris employee to spin up extravagant false hopes, even if they were loosely based in reality.

It was how they acquired their budget, after all; take the technologies that Borealis brought into the world from Kamabo, water them down to the lowest common denominator, and then market these neutered products while preaching about the wonders each of their modifications wrought. False hopes of how each new modification would do 'this, that and the other thing' and 'increase consistency and cut production costs' and 'it won't explode now half the time' and yada yada yada, it was all just corporate bullshit to her.

She knew of the arrangements, of the economic realities of Polaris's mission statement, but did they need to be so blatant about their work? Wars may be won with quantity, but quality and sheer, unparalleled firepower was still needed.

Even that suit of Environmental Reconnaissance Armor he was wearing showed visible signs of modification, a halted transmogrification of a cheaper, long-term environmentally sealed evolution of Borealis' APP armor. The signature geometric decals and markings of Polaris' shell company FLK didn't exactly do much to conceal all the similarities in visual design, after all.

And yet, that damn suit got the scientist this far. She did have to respect that moxy, but really, how much had they changed from the design patterns the company had been sent? She knew a carbon-nanotube hydrophobic weave when she saw one, and those weren't cheap! It was Borealis tech that had kept him alive, but only barely.

Bah! That didn't mean it would do shit against any real weapons, considering those particular suits only had minimal reactive armor plating and kinetic dampening in the undersuit. Lucky him, though, that the Aberrents only really used chemical weapons and light kinetic ones.

She shook her head. Considering their situation, any kind of armor was better than nothing. A familiar itching was already growing at the back of her skull, one that hailed they would be having company soon.

One way or another, the Metro wasn't going to give them up without a fight.

Emily's eyes took in the empty halls all around them, dark corroded metal and concrete lit by red low-vis lighting. Each ceiling mounted strip of LEDs would subtly illuminate her and her companions, silhouetting them against the oppressive darkness of the halls beyond.

She was loath to imagine what horrors lurked ahead - much like an unobserved quantum particle, something could be hiding anywhere in the spaces between lights, hidden to them until it was too late.

Every corner turned was a potential ambush, every rusty ventilation grate they passed an attack vector. Sealed doors to other parts of the Metro were left completely alone, and much of the writing on the walls was ignored; the golden line emitted by the Compass, the one she could see in her mind's eye, was the only trustworthy source of direction down here, and even then Emily had her doubts.

She hated having to throw her trust, and by extension her life, to the mercy of an artifact given to her by the remnants of the Collective, yet what other choice did she have?

Admittedly, she was scared. Though, in all honesty, she wasn't all that scared for her safety - she was the woman with the gun and not much more to lose, after all, she could handle herself just fine - she was more scared for the other two behind her.

One was a scientist, who if she croaked would become the last active human left alive on planet Earth. With her out of the picture, and barring no other survivors showing up, humanity at best would be put on a fifty year timer.

Even if he wasn't lying about a portion of Polaris's population surviving, she wouldn't trust them to perform basic calculations concerning the tensile strength of a platinum-iridium standardized data-cable, much less try to repopulate the human race. Besides, most of Polaris's staff roll were old geezers, who knew how many of them were (relatively) young enough like he was?

Speaking of young… Her other companion?

An actual Aberrant child, who just wanted to help her dad with his human research and somehow ended up down here because of it. Emily could tell the poor kid was just barely keeping it together as is, and if they were going to get through what comes next, she needed everybody's heads in the game.

Including her own.

Turning around and waving to get their attention, she popped the question, muffled through her APP mask.

"You two good?" she said, hoping that by also including the universal point-then-OK-hand gesture it'd trigger some neuron in the scientist's head that hadn't been scrambled yet, unlike the rest of his egg yolk head. She would kill for some scrambled eggs right about now.

While his eyes didn't convey a full understanding, the hand gestures seemed to do the trick. He gave her a shaky thumbs-up much to Sally's visible confusion, which was seemingly alleviated through a brief warbly explanation. How he forced his voice to modulate his pitch like that, she had no idea.

The girl also proceeded to give a thumbs up, forcing a little smile to further sell the 'I'm totally not seconds from a total mental breakdown' vibe she was trying to give off. The man from Polaris didn't look to be far off, going by the furrowed, pale complexion. She did appreciate seeing his face, even if it was a dirty myriad of uneven colors and pressure markings.

Just how long had he been wearing that mask beforehand? ERA suits were built with long-term operation in mind, but even they had their comfort limits.

(She pretended to ignore his eyes, and how they glowed - especially how they glowed the same exact shade of teal as the Blob did.)

She turned back, shivering slightly.

If they make it out alright, she resolved, she was going to take a day off. Drag the Polaris guy with her to a nice beach, do some much-needed sunbathing, and try to figure out exactly what the hell fried his brain. She needed her R&R desperately; this shit was running her ragged.

"Yeah…" she said to herself, frustration stressing her voice. "Of course. Run into another survivor, and it turns out that he's gone all native on me. Just my luck…"

She sighed deeply, hand running over her mask. She didn't know who she was speaking to anymore. Herself? The other two? The shadows?

"Y'know, part of my schooling was probability," she continued, ranting, "and I swear this chain of events should be impossible. No, scratch that, actually, I'm sure you were around, nudging events this way and that down here. Am I right?"

Yeah… she was speaking to the shadow people now. Maybe her brother was right about sentience being an evolutionary maladaptation. But really, this was just… mad.

And, judging by the oncoming headache, another type of evolutionary maladaptation was about to be upon them.

There was a stirring pull within her gut, one that was almost unbearable. It danced across her skin like a colony of ants. She wasn't sure if it was the Compass, or the anticipation and stress threatening to overwhelm her. Most likely the latter, judging by her two companions.

Whatever semblance of control either had was all but gone; Sally had been reduced to a hyperventilating, teary mess, barely being held together by the Polaris scientist's feeble comforting.

They felt it too, no doubt.

Warily, she drew her pistol, noticing how Sally and the Polaris scientist both shakily readied their own weapons as well. She knew what the cheap plastic toy the kid had could do, but it was the laser rifle that the scientist held that had her freaked out.

The Metro did something to him, that much she knew. Having somebody potentially compromised by this place behind her, with a much more powerful gun…

(If anything, at least she was wearing proper body armor. She'd have time to turn around and get a shot off before the las-rifle beat the APP plating. Still, would be cutting it close.)

Emily shook her head. Being shot in the back was one way to go, but getting taken out by the Blob?

Far worse.

Whatever intrinsic qualities the Blob may have held, subtlety wasn't one of them. She swore it was toying with them at this point, not even bothering to straight out incapacitate them. She wasn't a fool; that thing could give off lethal psionic emissions, yet it held back for whatever inane reasons.

Of course, that had been her working hypothesis roughly… she couldn't remember, five minutes ago? Unfortunately, that hypothesis had been shattered, its little glassy bits thrown into a blender, pulverized to dust, then inhaled by her shredding her lungs into bloody ribbons. Which, coincidentally, was how she felt at the current moment. Ever since she had retired from her previous career to work as a full-blown engineer, her cardio had gone to shit.

Not the Blob cared.

And this time, it had no compulsions of holding back.

At the end of the hallway, it shimmered strangely, its teal glow fluctuating wildly, almost like the surface was fractalized water. The shadows itself seemed to bend against it, deforming its surface tension. Conversely, that would explain the muffled screams, and how it seemed to be straining forward, compared to its quick fluidity from when it last chased her.

Something was holding it back. Another anomaly? The Collective?

Emily didn't know, and by God she didn't want to stick around to find out.

The scientist and Sally weren't handling this new development nearly as well. She had been forced to go behind the two, pushing and shouting at them to keep running.

He struck her as someone with no formalized training, someone without her experience, yet judging from their little conversation earlier, knew more than someone like him should have. Essentially, he needed plenty of prodding to keep going. The other was a literal child; even if she was an aberrant, Emily was tempted to carry her. But then that would've hampered her firing arm, something she really needed right now.

Well, may need. Her pistol wasn't all that effective, but it was something.

Her rationalizations were the only thing keeping her sane. Even through her helmet's protective measures, she could feel the utter rage of the Blob. Whoever had installed the noospheric dampener in the APP prototypes was a saint, someone who didn't deserve to die the way they did.

What did deserve to die, though, was whoever the hell made the Blob.

She raised her pistol, intending to at least damage the thing while it was being held back before they made a break for it…

BRATATATATATATATATATATA-

…but the man from Polaris beat her to the punch, prototype laser rifle raised and spraying wildly down the hallway at the Blob. Ink and fire blasted out from newly created holes in the gelatinous creature, the staccato report of the rifle almost drowning out the man's frenzied yells.

Now was a very good time to leave.

"This way!" she shouted, grabbing Sally and pulling the Aberrant kid along with her. If that bastard was going to buy them some time, she may as well-

Click.

He's out.

The Blob, newly enraged by the Polaris scientist's laser rifle, all but tore through whatever anomalous barrier was keeping it at bay.

Shit. Not good! Not good! Of course shooting it pissed it off!

The man attempted to fumble with the laser rifle, trying to reload it. There's no time, moron!

Grabbing the human by one of his backpack straps, she yanked him back. The rifle fell from his hands, clattering to the ground just in front of the Blob. He tried to reach for it, to no avail - the ink was going to beat him to it.

"Fuck the rifle! C'mon!" she roared, lugging both him and Sally into a side hallway away from the Blob. They had to go, and NOW.

The three of them staggered into more of the maintenance tunnels, Emily leading them through twists and turns alike, chasing the golden line. The others behind her kept up as best as they could, having been properly galvanized by the Blob's sudden and horrific appearance.

Finally, they were in gear, knowing full well that slowing down would equal certain death. Good.

As they ran, the hallways started to almost blend together, just endless left and right turns through dimly-lit corridors of concrete and steel. What little sights they could register came in the form of more writing, hurried spray painted symbols and harsh cuts in the concrete spelling out short taunts and supportive messages alike.

KEEP GOING

JOIN US

HARD LEFT RIGHT AHEAD

GIVE UP ALREADY

EXIT

As she rounded a corner, she saw it - there!

At the end of the hall - below a hastily welded on EMERGENCY EXIT sign - the golden line terminated at a door! Mag-locked, but a door nonetheless! This was it!

"In, in!" she shouted, gesturing wildly at the unassuming doorway. The scientist tried to wrench it open, but the magnetic door locks held firm. The red LEDs indicating the door's 'locked' status glowed almost maliciously at her, as if it were possessed. They had roughly fifteen seconds before the Blob reached them, by her estimates.

As such, she certainly wasn't in the mood for a slow and subtle, yet clever solution. And when you had a hammer, every problem was a nail.

Without thinking, she brought her pistol to bear. Gesturing for the other two to stand back, she held the trigger down, pushing the barrel of the gun into where she thought the electronics of the mag-lock were.

Whirrr…

Bracing herself, she released the trigger, sending an overcharged blast of plasma directly into the door's control systems.

BOOM!

In her blind haste, she had forgotten just why doing so was a horrible idea.

Energy was an interesting beast to play with, especially when too much was applied at much. While say… she didn't know, a railgun's explosions were caused by the sheer stress of a hypervelocity projectile forcefully transferring all of its kinetic energy to the target, her weapon worked on the principle of the sheer heat of its projectile melting whatever stood in its way.

And usually, such a harsh temperature differential between the projectile and the environment would result in quite a violent reaction, typically an explosion. The plasma losing its magnetic casing certainly didn't help.

As such…

One moment, she'd stood braced against the door, and the next, she was sailing through the air, lenses cracked and senses overwhelmed.

The next

nothing.


This wasn't good.

Emily was down and out.

When her gun's overcharged plasma bolt had exploded (he still couldn't believe such a weapon existed,) he had watched Emily's prone form fly through the air like a ragdoll, clattering to the ground with a sickening series of crunches.

He stared at her fallen form, bile welling up in his throat. As if trapped in molasses, he slowly turned back, seeing that the Blob was almost upon them, about to cut them off from their only true escape. Sally stood frozen in shock, her face a pale white blanket.

Emily stirred on the ground a fair distance away, alive, yet she had to be crippled.

A mute horror had overtaken him, the pain in his head growing almost unbearable. S-she…

The vile ink was almost upon them.

Ten seconds.

Unconsciously, he'd stepped back, towards the door.

"S-Spook! We can't just leave her!" he dimly registered Sally shouting.

Six seconds.

"Spook! What are you doing! We gotta help her!"

He closed his eyes, taking a breath.

You're gonna hate me for this. Both of you.

Three seconds.

"SPOOK!" Sally was trying to pull Emily up, to get the woman back on her feet.

I'm sorry.

One second.

Without another word, he launched forward, grabbing Sally and immediately tearing through the door behind them.

"NO!"

He knew he had to make sacrifices eventually.

Simple things, at first. No creature comforts, having to be content with a language barrier, the list went on.

Then, it was throwing away his morals. Thou shalt not kill, unless you were killing Octarian soldiers who you believed were holding humans captive.

Now?

Sally could hate him all she wanted for this. He knew that, and fully accepted it.

But if he had to pick between Sally and Emily? The kid took priority, and as such…

"WE COULD HAVE SAVED HER!" the girl screamed, squirming in his hold.

"WE'D BE FUCKING DEAD TOO!" he shouted back.

He raced up the stairway beyond the door, his innards gripped by an icy numbness that blocked out every sensation. Heavy boots pounded against nondescript concrete as he went, legs burning and lungs screaming with exhaustion and overexertion.

Behind them, he could see a part of the vile ink creature ascending up the stairs, a tidal wave of teal fluid completely engulfing the passage behind them. Like flames licking at his heels, they only served to spur him on.

With burning legs and singed lungs, the two eventually reached the top of the stairs, where a solitary, windowed steel door stood, open. A scorched shadow was ingrained in the wall, like an inverted nuclear shadow.

Without waiting, he and Sally crossed through the threshold, which promptly shut behind them. Maglock lights flickered to red, a series of clangs forever securing the door against the oncoming tide.

Not a moment later, the window was awash in teal, the creature beyond trying in vain to break through, yet its shrieks and violent thrashings were in vain.

For what felt like hours, he and Sally stared at the door, until finally, the monstrosity gave up, slinking away in defeat. The headache was gone.

"I… think we're in the clear." he mumbled, slumping against the wall. "Oh god, we're free…"

"You…" Sally started, tears welling up in her eyes. "You KILLED her, Spook!"

He did. He knew he did.

What else could he have done, though?

"Y-You could've HELPED ME, Spook! We could've gotten her out!"

A pipe dream. The spirit was willing, but the body was weak.

God, he was so tired.

"We could've… w-we could've…"

"I know, kid. I know." he muttered, a pathetic attempt at reassuring the poor girl. She wasn't having one bit of it.

"NO, YOU DON'T!" Sally screamed, jabbing a finger at him. "YOU DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO HELP HER!"

"We didn't have enough time! If we-"

"WE WOULD'VE GOTTEN HER OUT! SHE WOULDN'T BE DEAD, SPOOK! DEAD!" the girl sobbed, slumping against her own wall across from him.

Maybe he was a murderer.

He'd seized up at the wrong moment. Wrong place, wrong time. Now he had the blood of the only other awake and active human on planet Earth on his hands.

(...well, he never claimed to be a good person, anyway.)

What mattered more, though, was that they were alive. Him and Sally were alive, and safe. Wherever they were, it had to be where the Collective had their exit.

All they had to do was keep it together, for one last stretch. Then, they'd be free.

Sally could go back to her family, and he could… well. Do whatever he had to do. Atone for leaving Emily behind. Get a job. Something.

"S-Spook?" Sally hiccuped, weakly glaring up at him from her place across the room.

All he could manage was a grunt. Everything ached. It hurt to talk.

"Why… why'd you do it? W-Why did you leave her?"

"To save you, kid."

"But-"

"We had only seconds to go before that ink stuff got to us. If we tried to lug her up and out up all those stairs, it would've caught up to us. We'd be dead, Sally. Just as dead as her." he rasped, coughing.

"You've got a family to go back to, who love you and no doubt really miss you, kid. I ain't letting them down, even if I did have to kill somebody."

Sally looked away, staring off at nothing.

"Hell, for all I know, maybe that lady's fine. Maybe she got up, fought her way out that blob."

Sally said nothing. For a while, they sat just like that, quiet as can be.

"...are you trying to convince me that she's okay? Or yourself?" the girl finally said, looking back at him.

"I… I don't know."

I don't know anything, anymore.

Where'd it all go so wrong? Things could've been better.

Just then, disused speakers above crackled to life. A tinny jingle, then-

"Metro train… zero, one… will be arriving at platform… F, ten… shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line, and wait."

Weakly, he clambered to his feet, Sally remaining unmoving as he did so.

"C'mon, kid. Sounds like we've got a train to catch."

"I know you don't like me anymore. Don't blame you, honestly."

"But we've still gotta get out of here, okay? You'll have all the time in the world to hate me once we're out the Metro and back in the normal world, yeah?" he said.

With a huff, Sally relented, climbing to her feet.

"...yeah. Let's go, Spook."


The more Four learned about the Metro, the more… confused she became.

She was sitting in the back of one of the Deep Sea Metro's subway cars, the oversized, worn seats making her feel like a kid again. School bus memories, mostly, right down to the lack of seatbelts. On top of that, the whole subway was on a much larger scale than her own frame, most likely to accommodate the regular travelers of the line.

The Denizens of the Deep, they were called. Oh cod, them.

As the subway train wove through tunnels, clear tunnels buried by the deep pressure of the ocean, and sights that simply defied logic, passengers got on and got off at the various stops they made. When she saw her first 'sea angel,' a muscular, jock-like individual that utterly dwarfed her, she nearly jumped out of her own skin. Hence, why she was barricaded in the isolated back seat.

Their translucent skin gave her the shivers, never mind their imposing stature and the clearly visible organs. They didn't even have faces! Why couldn't they be like jellies, who were cute?

And that was just the sea angels! Oddly shaped fish meandered about, interspersed by oddly shaped jellies, their heads large and malformed like large balloons. Even a few individuals in dresses, with these… cellular trees for heads! It was surreal! For the first time in her life, she truly felt out of place, and it made her skin crawl.

There really was a whole society down here! From the stops they took, she spied underground towns and cities, their stations bustling with life, unlike Inkopolis's own abandoned stop.

If nothing else, they were content to ignore her, unlike a certain conductor…

"Miss?" she heard coming from the edge of the seat, where the conductor, CQ Cumber, stood.

He was a sea cucumber like his name implied, but he stood on thin, spindly legs to elevate himself to her eye level. Well, the eye level she was at, laying on the seat.

"While we value our customers safety and security, we do have policies against loitering." he said, tilting his 'head' at her.

Four blinked. "Oh… uh, I'm waiting for… a friend."

Technically the truth? Though, calling humans and/or a lost child 'friends' may have been stretching that thin line of truth too far.

"I suppose you have," he responded, "but we have been over the whole loop two times now. Are you sure you have nowhere else to stop?"

Two loops?! How long had she been on again?

"W-we have?" She looked down to check her wrist watch. Four hours since she had embarked. But, it didn't feel like four hours. Time felt like honey.

"Yes." the sea cucumber affirmed, nodding. "I take it this is your first time riding with us, or, for that matter, visiting the Deep Sea?"

"You… could say that, I suppose."

If CQ had eyes, Four was quite certain he would have rolled them.

"The environment shock is usually detrimental to those who live in the sun." he said, "You will get used to it in tim-"

A low rumbling took over the car, the kind that vibrated the very atoms of her being. The lights flickered for just a moment, and in the back of her mind, Four swore she could hear a whispered laugh.

But just as soon as the event had come, it was over. The ramifications reverberated for a moment, then stilled.

"...that is not normal, however. There is no need to get used to such a phenomenon," the sea cucumber conductor noted in a calm tone, almost as if he was telling her of the weather. "On a completely unrelated note, are you of any relation to the young Inkling who passed through recently?"

Another Inkling? Wait…

"Could you describe them, maybe?" Four asked, going off a hunch.

CQ looked thoughtful for a moment, or as thoughtful as a faceless and expressionless blue blob could look.

"A girl, approximately fourteen years old? She had short purple tentacles, similar to your own. Not many of your kind ride the line anymore, so I imagine you're her family?" he said, looking back at Four.

That description seemed familiar, and a quick check of Four's gallery on her phone confirmed her suspicions.

She held the phone down to CQ, showing him the missing poster for a girl named Sally Ashens, who went missing a week prior when all this human stuff was starting to go down.

The conductor looked it over for a moment, then nodded.

"That would be her, yes." he said, his tone turning grave. "I can only assume you're down here looking for her?"

Four nodded.

"Ah…"

CQ fell silent for a moment, looking off to the side.

"I'm afraid this may be difficult to hear, but…"

Four braced for the worst.

"We believe she's already gone. She left the train a few days ago, and has not returned since."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

Almost as if waiting on his words, the train slowed to a halt at a nearby station, catching the Conductor's attention. Four didn't get enough time to process Sally's apparent demise before the hydraulic doors slid open automatically, allowing two people to stumble aboard from the platform.

Two all too familiar people.

Four's jaw dropped.

Who else would step through those doors than the Stranger from the Dome, and the missing Inkling herself?

For a brief second, they locked eyes - his newly unmasked and very human face was a shock to Four, among other things (why did he have Three's eyes!?)

Of all the words she expected to hear out of a human, she didn't expect to hear, in gravely yet perfect Aquatic…

"You've got to be shitting me."


/ REWRITE A/N: /

Falk here, as usual.

Two chapters left. I know the 'chapters left' thing totally spoils what's going to happen, but that's still two chapters of things that can happen.

Sally got her much deserved rage fit at the Spook, and shit's about to get real with Four and our deranged gunman of a human meeting once again.

Not much else to say, considering most of this chapter's rewrite work has been just expanding what was there already, but that's something to say, so I will say it.

Speaking of things to say, as usual I'm going to hand it back over to Piston for his author's notes. Hopefully you're enjoying what we've got going so far, and I'm looking forward to seeing if you'll come back for the next one. Take care!

/ ORIGINAL A/N: /

So, mistakes were made. For now, this is the penultimate chapter of the Metro arc, and I apologize if it feels like this was a rather rushed conclusion. We're cutting our losses here, and hopefully moving onto Greener Pastures. But enough on dour topics!

I'd like to give thanks to Falken, Spoopy, and Ancient for helping me with this chapter; Falken especially! He managed to help improve some sections drastically, and sped up the production of the chapter by a significant margin. With any luck, we should be able to get roughly a chapter out a month now, hopefully, so more frequent updates should be occurring.

There isn't much else to discuss, except that one of the scenes was altered a bit, and if you want to read how it was originally, it will be available on the Discord server. The invite code is qCMxkGzzBg. We have Garry's Mod nights occasionally.

As always, thanks for reading and reviewing, and see you next time!