Chapter Text
Part 1: Rysoma, Ken
Kenneth Rysoma:
Brush-wielding Inkling hero;
Fearless Agent 4.
In the depths of Cephalon HQ, a lone Inkling, panting with exhaustion, wiped the sweat from his brow. Here he was, suspended on a grind rail, hovering high above a pool of foul purple liquid. Modified Rainmaker? Check. Heavenly Squid Sisters music blasting in his ears? Check. DJ Octavio, commander of the Octarian Army, trying to knock him off the rail with his Octobot? Checkeridoo.
This was a recipe for disaster. Just how he liked it.
As the Octobot reared back for another attack, Ken Rysoma, Agent 4 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, tightened his grip on the Rainmaker.
“Graaaaah! You…you slimy little hipster!” The oversized octopus raged, slamming his tentacles down on the Octobot’s control panel. “I’mma dubstomp you into oblivion!”
“Huh? Come on, my dude, who talks like that?” Ken mused, charging up the fish-shaped superweapon in his hands. “If you’re gonna threaten me, at least don’t go with cheesy lines like that!”
With a metallic groan, the Octobot launched a giant metal fist, emanating an ominous purple glow.
But Ken was ready.
Preparing to jump onto an adjacent rail, he released the trigger on the Rainmaker, launching a blob of green ink. Just as the fist approached, it collided with the ink blob. For a moment, the fist slowed, hovering in midair…before turning back towards Octavio. Just as it began to barrel towards the Octobot, another metal hand, spinning furiously, rocketed towards the Inkling.
“Whoa!” Ken yelped, almost losing his grip on the Rainmaker.
He jumped over the spinning fist, and landed on the outer grind rail, just in time to see the other fist strike the DJ in the face. Octavio roared in pain and fury, as the Octobot shuddered. The commander barely managed to regain control of his enormous craft, a muscle twitching near his eyebrows.
“Argh, splat you, you little punk!” he yelled, launching both of the Octobot’s fists in desperation.
Once again, Ken dodged the approaching projectiles, firing off another ink shot in midair. The green blob collided with both fists, returning them to their sender. Two loud crashes resounded through the stage, signalling the end of the battle.
The Octarian commander, Octobot and all, began to tumble, falling out of the air to the round stage below. As the Squid Sisters—Callie and Marie, Agents 1 and 2—cheered him on, Ken slid across the now-descending grind rail. He adjusted his grip on the golden superweapon…and jumped!
“And…” he yelled, slamming the Rainmaker down onto Octavio’s head. “You’re done!”
Octavio let out a gurgling scream, as the Octobot began to fizzle and spark.
“No…no! Not againnnnnnn!” he yelled, desperately clutching at the control panel.
The Octobot, now emitting a high-pitched whistle, began to rise back into the air, only to crash down again.
“So…sad…” the Octarian moaned. “Crossfade…to black…”
Shifting into squid form, Ken dove into a puddle of his ink, and not a moment too soon—
Boom!
Without warning, the malfunctioning Octobot exploded, unleashing a deluge of purple and green ink that covered the entire stage. Once the force of the ink explosion (“inksplosion?” Ken thought to himself) had subsided, Ken emerged from his puddle, surveying his handiwork. There, in the middle of the mechanical wreckage, was DJ Octavio, out like a light.
The fight was over.
“A-Agent 4! Ken! You did it!” Marie’s voice called, blasting in Ken’s headset. “The Great Zapfish is safe, and Inkopolis too!”
“Just hang tight; we’re coming to get you!” Callie’s voice interjected, with a relieved giggle.
“Oh, yeah! Will do!” said Ken, looking up to the ceiling of the vast underground facility. “Just in time, too—this headset was getting pretty clammy with all the sweat.”
“Uh-huh, right…” said Marie, with the vocal equivalent of an eyeroll. “Anyway, we’re landing near your position. Watch yourself, Ken!”
As Marie’s voice cut out, a large truck-like craft came into view above Ken’s head. He could hear the instrumentals of the Calamari Inkantation booming through its speakers as it descended. Setting down the Rainmaker, he turned to Octavio’s unconscious form, still lying in the remains of his machine.
“So uh…what are we all gonna do with him? We putting him in the truck or something?” he pointed towards the large Octoling, grinning.
“Oh, him? Ah, don’t worry!” said Marie, jumping from the craft. “We’ve got just the place for him…”
On cue, the back of the hovering truck opened, revealing Callie, wearing a striking—if somewhat revealing—black outfit, and resting against a giant, cracked snow globe. She hopped down to give Ken a high-five, then turned to Octavio.
“Hee hee! He’ll be reeeeal comfortable in here!” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s what he gets for brainwashing me!”
The three Inklings laughed, as they began to haul Octavio into the hovering truck. As it lifted off, rising up and out of Cephalon HQ, Ken marvelled at how far he’d come. How long had it been since he’d spoken to Marie, and found himself wrapped up with the Squidbeak Splatoon? It couldn’t have been more than a month, but it was incredible to think that he’d be here now, saving Inkopolis from the Octarian menace.
But here he was. Maybe the city would never know that he’d saved it, but Inkopolis was safe, thanks to the efforts of Squidbeak. That was all that mattered.
Part 2: Mito, Aiden
Here’s Aiden Mito
Octoling test subject, freed
From the gloomy depths.
He was falling, falling, falling. The sound of ocean waves and the whirling of a fleet’s worth of helicopter blades filled the air, drowning out the howl of the wind around him.
The nameless Octoling soon felt himself landing on a large metal platform, hanging down from a helicopter. In an instant, he shifted to octopus form, super-jumping to the largest chopper of the fleet.
“All right, Eight! That statue’s all covered!” the voice of Marina, DJ of Off the Hook, shouted from above, as the Octoling stood up. Before him stood a titanic, human-shaped statue, covered in magenta ink. Loud static emanated from a set of speakers somewhere on the statue, carrying with it a crackly, furious voice.
“Applicant 10008…No other test subject has gone so far to spoil my plans,” it boomed. The source of the voice, a derelict, rusty telephone, shook wildly inside the statue’s eye, conveying its anger in a way that words alone could not.
“But now…yes, now! You shall be blended up into the perfect world the professor envisioned!” the telephone, Commander Tartar of the Kamabo Corporation, roared. “Farewell, 10008! Farewell to you…and that worthless cesspool of a city!”
With that, the cannon protruding from the statue’s mouth began to glow, as an oily, grotesque turquoise substance began to flow through its machinery.
“Hey, Eight! Don’t worry; I got this!” another voice yelled from above. Its source, Pearl—the other half of Off the Hook—leapt from the helicopter to the platform below. She shot the Octoling a confident smile, before turning her attention to Tartar.
“Ayo, statue! Got something for ya!” she shouted, raising her arms. In a flash, she readied a massive speaker—a Killer Wail. As the statue’s cannon charged, the short Inkling cleared her throat.
With a thunderous rumble, the cannon fired, sending a blast of slime towards the helicopter. In the same instant, Pearl took a deep, deep breath.
“Boo…YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
Pearl screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice amplified by the massive Killer Wail. Soundwaves, accompanied by a torrent of ink, rippled through the air, meeting the beam of turquoise slime in midair. For a moment, the two beams clashed, like a high-stakes game of tug-of-war. Then…slowly, but surely…the Killer Wail’s soundwaves overpowered the statue’s cannon, which began to collapse, along with the statue itself, under the burst of sound and ink.
A final screech of static relayed Tartar’s mechanical scream.
“P-professor…our r-r-r-reunion awaits…kkkkkkrrrrrrrrssssshhhh…”
With one last crackle of static, Tartar’s voice faded into nothing, until all that could be heard over the statue’s speakers was a muted hiss. Finally, the statue began to topple, unable to support itself. The clear seawater rippled wildly as the statue fell, sending waves in all directions.
The nameless Octoling, Agent 8, plopped down atop the gently swaying platform, pumping his fist quietly in his own method of celebration.
“Pearlie! Eight! We did it!” Marina shouted gleefully, as she hopped down.
“W…wow, we really did! That was…intense!” Agent 8 replied, pushing his hair tentacle out of his eyes.
“You did well, bucko! Great work!” The voice of Cap’n Cuttlefish, the old Inkling captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon, came from above. “That was some o’ the best shootin’ I’ve seen in a long time!”
“Ah, but we couldn’t have done it without our great hype man!” Marina chimed in, gesturing towards the Cap’n.
“Oh ho ho! My pleasure!” Cap’n Cuttlefish chortled, his beard shaking this way and that. “This old squid’s got the rhymes too, you know!”
As the Cap’n and Off the Hook shared a laugh, Agent 8 sat back, a small smile forming on his face.
“So…hey, Eight!” said Pearl, scooting over to the Octoling. “Now that that’s over…how’s about we start calling you something else?”
“Hmm? What do you mean?” asked Eight, glancing in Pearl’s direction. “O-oh, you mean—”
“Well, we can’t just keep calling you Agent 8 forever, right?” Marina chimed in, reclining on Eight’s other side. “So we figured…if you can’t remember your name, why not just make up a new one?”
Eight nodded, placing a hand on his chin. That was, after all, true; even after all the memories he’d regained, the fact that something so simple as his own name still eluded him was odd, to say the least.
“Yeah! So uh…” Pearl searched her pockets, and produced a sheet of paper, on which the Octoling could see a messily-written list of names. “Marina and I came up with a list of names for ya!”
“Well then! Let me see here…” Eight took the paper in his hands, scrutinizing the names; as he browsed the list, his purple eyes lit up. “How about…oh! This one?”
He pointed to a certain name, towards the middle of the list.
Aiden.
“Hmm?” Marina leaned in, reading out the name. “Aiden, huh? That’s a nice name!”
“Yes, I am thinking Aiden sounds…something like ‘eight-en’, so…” said Eight. “In that case, how does a name like Aiden…Mito sound?”
“Mito?” Pearl blinked. “Where’d you get that from?”
Eight frowned, racking his brain. Where had he gotten that last name from? Why couldn’t he remember this?
Suddenly, in the depths of his mind, there came a flash of memory. A name—no, a number. A simple code yelled out by a gruff, commanding voice; directed at him, no less.
“M1-T0,” he murmured, under his breath. Then, louder, “M1-T0! I vaguely remember being called that somewhere. It was an identification code in the Octarian Army, or something similar.”
“Well, lad?” said Cap’n Cuttlefish, clapping Eight on a shoulder. “Aiden Mito sounds like a fine name, if you ask me! It suits you well!”
“Oh, I—uh, thank you, Captain.”
Clearing his throat, the Octoling took a deep breath, and was about to speak when something stirred in the helicopter above. Looking up, he saw a caped female Inkling, clutching her head and looking down at the group below.
“Agent 3! You chose a fine time to wake up!” Eight joked, grinning. “You missed all the action!”
The Inkling, Agent 3, gazed at the remains of Tartar’s statue for a moment, then back to the Octoling, before wordlessly shrugging her shoulders. The Octoling chuckled, standing up to look out to the sea.
“Ah, well…anyway, I am Agent—” he paused, placing a hand on his chin. “No, wait…I have a name now, don’t I?”
He stood up, looking around at the smiling faces around him. The ones who had guided him all this way, and helped him conquer the Kamabo Corporation’s cruel tests. A surge of gratitude swelled up inside him, which he displayed with a smile of his own.
“My name is Aiden Mito. It is great to make your acquaintance.”
With a new name and new friends, the Octoling formerly known as Agent 8 would step into this new life, full of wonder and excitement.
He couldn't wait.
Part 3: Nukléa, Inez
Inez Nukléa
Ventured upwards; came to fight;
Turf War’s in her blood.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another great Turf War!” the announcer bellowed, his voice carrying over the sound of pre-recorded cheering that echoed through the air. “Today’s venue is…the Reef! Let’s cheer these fine folks on!”
On either side of the symmetrical arena, a spawn point flickered to life, oozing out different colors of ink: purple on one, and teal on the other. From each round spawn point emerged four figures: the Turf War players of the day.
“Yee-haw! Time to get this here show on the road!” one particular player, an Octoling girl, cheered, waving her Dualie Squelchers.
“Well, someone’s excited!” said an Inkling teammate. “What was your name again? Ee-nez or something?”
“Ah, m’name’s Inez! Inez Nukléa!” the Octoling replied, grinning broadly. “Howdy, partner!”
Just then, there came a loud popping noise, signalling the start of the Turf War match. The Octoling—Inez—sprang into action, covering the ground with purple ink. Her teammates did the same, as did the Inklings on the other team. Out of the corner of her eye, Inez saw a crowd of jellyfish, their faces pressed against the glass of the Reef’s shop windows.
Three minutes wasn’t a lot of time, but to the competing Inklings (and Octoling), it felt like hours. The teams duked it out, neither side taking an advantage for long. Colorful ink splattered everywhere, covering the concrete floors, the patches of grass under the overpass, and the metal chassis of the two cars on display. The spectating jellyfish cheered on the competitors from behind the windows, their warbling voices strangely muffled by the glass.
“Purple team’s taken the lead, but Teal team’s not backing down—Oh! That’s gotta hurt!” the announcer yelled, as one of Purple Team’s members vanished in a splash of teal ink. From that ink emerged a teal Inkling, wearing a grey hoodie and a malicious smile on his face. Inez paused, turning her attention to this new enemy.
“Oh, y’ain’t gonna like this!” she yelled, triggering the ink nozzles on her Dualies. She rolled sideways, beneath the overpass, pointing both Squelchers at the opposing Inkling. But just then…!
“Ha ha! Gotcha!” sneered another member of Teal Team, emerging from the teal puddle in the shadow of the overpass, his brown bomber jacket stained purple. He and the hoodie-wearing Inkling pointed their weapons at Inez, smirking.
“Is that right?” she growled, her grin widening. “This ain’t my first rodeo, ya varmints!”
In a flash, she spun, her Squelchers pointing in opposite directions. Squeezing both triggers, she spun and opened fire, unleashing a chaotic barrage of ink that splatted the bomber jacket-wearing Inkling; the Inkling in the gray hoodie dodged back, barely avoiding the torrent of purple ink.
“Look at that technique from Inez Nukléa of Purple Team!” said the announcer. “Oh, it wasn’t enough to take both of her opponents out, though!”
No sooner had the announcer spoken than another pair of opponents appeared to support the hoodie-clad teal squid. Inez dove into her purple ink, swimming away to regroup with her team.
The seconds ticked away, and before they knew it, it came down to the last minute. As the famous tune, “Now or Never”, began to blare from the Reef’s speakers, all eight Turf War players sprang into action once again. Where Purple team splattered the ground, Teal team responded in kind with their own ink. The two spawn points hissed, again and again, as the combatants kept returning, itching to jump back into the fray.
With thirty seconds left on the clock, and both teams on even footing, Inez dashed towards the central overpass, laying down a suppressing barrage of ink. Suddenly, there came a blast of teal ink, as the gray hoodie-wearing Inkling reappeared on the other side of the bridge. He smirked nastily, pointing his Blaster at the Octoling.
“Well, ain't this just like one of them standoffs in the movies?” said Inez, readying her Squelchers. “Like, we’d step back, and someone’d say—”
“Hey, why don’t you just shut up?” the Inkling barked, his smirk widening ever so slightly. “I don't have time to talk with you losers.”
Everything froze. Inez's smile faded, as the Inkling's words hit home.
“…What was that?!” she growled, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Ya lookin' to get yer plow cleaned?”
“Ticked you off, did I?” the Inkling spat back. “You think you’ve got anything on Bobbi Deena? You’re about a hundred years too early to take me on, redhead!”
A scowl formed across Inez’s face, as she pointed her Squelchers at the Inkling. For a moment, splotches of purple and teal ink flew through the air, as the two of them opened fire. Inez ducked behind a platform on the bridge, but it wasn’t enough to avoid the splash of teal ink, as the Blaster’s ink blob exploded. Inez winced as the stinging enemy ink touched her skin, but kept her composure long enough to return fire.
On the other side of the bridge, the hoodie-wearing Inkling—Bobbi—wiped off a spot of purple ink from his face, wearing an expression somewhere between cold amusement and utmost contempt. The two pointed their weapons at each other once again, and were just about to shoot when—
“Aha! Just in time!”
Suddenly, there came a loud burst of sound, as another teal Inkling appeared from under the bridge. Inez had just enough time to register the source of the sound—an Inkjet special weapon—before the ink jetpack's mounted cannon fired. In a flash, she was engulfed in teal ink.
“Yow! Nukléa goes down, courtesy of a well-timed Inkjet!” yelled the announcer. “And with that…time's up! Let’s go to Judd and Lil’ Judd!”
On a set of large TV screens, lighting up behind the Reef’s many windows, two cats appeared. With their colorful flags, Judd and his tiny companion, Lil’ Judd, would declare one team the winner. As the audience and the competitors watched, they waved their flags whimsically, and then…a flash of teal, as the cats raised their respective flags.
“Teal team wins! 51.6% to 47.4%!” The announcer boomed, as the numbers and statistics flashed on screen. “What a comeback! And what a fierce standoff between Bobbi and Inez!”
As Inez emerged from the spawn point, her teammates patted her on the back, shaking their heads in defeat. Across the battleground, she caught a glimpse of Bobbi, the hooded Inkling, celebrating with his team. He locked eyes with her, and flashed a toothy, hostile grin.
“…Dang it! You dirty little—” Inez cursed internally, turning away from the teal team. As the spawn points deactivated, she stepped out of the designated Turf War zone, Bobbi’s taunts still ringing in her mind.
I don't have time to talk with you losers.
You’re about a hundred years too early to take me on, redhead!
Inez frowned. Inklings were such a complicated species. How many other Inklings were like this on the inside, so petty and rude? Was Inkopolis—the promised land of color and cheer—not all it was cracked up to be? Had she been wrong…to think they’d all welcome an Octoling like her to the surface?
Nah, surely not. She’d bet her Dualies that she’d seen other Octolings around town, relaxing and having fun among the Inklings in the month or so she’d spent on the surface. Not to mention, she’d met plenty of nice Inklings on the surface herself, hadn’t she? Maybe this was just how some Inklings like Bobbi were…
She shook her head, trying to stop thinking about Bobbi, but the mental image of his nasty smirk remained. That strengthened her resolve.
Oh, she’d shut him up good next time. That little varmint would get his comeuppance next time.
And—though she had no way of knowing this—she wouldn’t be alone next time.
Part 4: Rysoma, Mina
Weary journalist
Life threatened by the salmon
Careful where you tread.
The horn blew loudly, cutting through the chilly air and fog, as the four Inklings touched down on the rickety platform. The small boat from which they had just super-jumped began turning around, moving a safe distance away from the soon-to-be battleground.
“Those Salmonids’ll be coming in any second now! Get moving! Get me those eggs!” That was Mr. Grizz, the mysterious CEO of Grizzco. “And don’t even think about slacking off!”
With a shrug and a roll of her eyes, Mina Rysoma prepared to move. Just another standard Salmon Run shift, right?
“Come on, Rysoma! Let’s get this bread!” said one of her teammates, patting her shoulder.
“Uh, right! Let’s go!” Mina replied, picking up her assigned weapon: a Classic Squiffer. Good; now this was a weapon she could work with. Not just any charger—her favourite weapon type—but the very weapon she carried as her signature weapon in Turf Wars. What a lucky coincidence.
Out of the ground rose a mechanical tube-shaped egg collector. With it, more horns began to blow, signalling the appearance of a wave of Salmonids. First came the small fry and the chums, gabbling and brandishing their frying pans. They were followed closely by large, lumbering Cohocks, and then…the “big bosses”: gigantic Steelheads, rumbling Scrappers, raging Maws, and more.
“Go, go, go! Take ‘em out! GET THOSE EGGS!” Mr. Grizz roared, nearly blowing out Mina’s ear-mounted headphones. She and her team spread out, splatting Salmonids left and right. The murky water splashed dangerously, waves almost reaching above the concrete platforms on which they fought. The normally gray platforms soon glistened with a mixture of blue Inkling ink and dark green Salmonid slime.
“Yeah, come get some!” said Mina, relishing the ferocity of the Salmonid waves. She and her teammates surrounded the egg collector, luring more and more of the mutant salmon towards them. The barrel of the Squiffer rose, time and time again, as Mina splatted those Salmonids who ventured in range.
As the hours went by, and more and more golden eggs began to fill the collector, the tide began to roll in. Murky water began to wash over the concrete platforms and muddy banks on which they stood at an alarming pace, until only a few dry platforms remained. To make matters worse, Salmonids seemed to pop out everywhere, closing in on the four workers. By nightfall, hundreds of Salmonids threatened to overwhelm them, as a multitude of bosses appeared in their midst.
“Gotcha!” Mina declared, snapping a shot at a helpless Drizzler, who burst in a blast of blue ink. Collecting one of the golden eggs thus revealed, Mina took aim in the direction of the egg collector, hoping to ink a quick route there. She squeezed the Squiffer’s trigger, held her breath, and released—
Click!
She frowned, looking towards her back-mounted ink tank/lifesaver. She’d run out of ink, and the Salmonids were closing in fast.
“Ah—!”
Before she could call out for backup, she heard a low growl, under her feet. Too late, she spotted a Maws—or, at least, its telltale bobber. She felt the ground shake beneath her, as it seemed to give way. The hulking Salmonid emerged in a flash, its namesake maws already closing in. With an almighty snap, Mina was engulfed.
For a moment, she experienced a damp darkness, but then…the lifesaver built into her Grizzco uniform kicked in, rising above the murk. Mina floated in the small reservoir of ink inside, forced into squid form.
“H-hey! Help! Help me!” she called out in desperation, hoping someone would hear.
“Rysoma! I’m coming!” the teammate from earlier shouted back, swimming through the ink. Mina, stuck in squid form, flipped and flopped in his direction, unaware of the returning Maws. It let out another rumbling growl, its bobber trembling.
“Watch out! It’s coming back!” said the other Inkling. But it was too late.
With a roar, the Maws reappeared, sending Mina—lifesaver and all—hurtling into the air. Its massive teeth snagged the side of the lifesaver, rupturing it. There came a spray of blue ink, which was quickly absorbed by the Salmonids’ muck.
“Aaaaaaaugggghhhh!” Mina screamed in pain, alerting the rest of her team.
“Carp! We got trouble!”
All thoughts of the golden eggs were abandoned, as Mina’s teammates rushed to her aid, splatting any Salmonids that got too close. The Maws sank into a puddle of its green slime, looking to finish Mina off. As she struggled to move away, a barrage of ink engulfed the Maws, which vanished in the mess.
“Mina! We got you; don't worry!” her teammates reassured her, as they carried her lifesaver away from the edge of the platform. As the Salmonids threatened to swarm around them, they super-jumped to the Grizzco boat, taking care to keep Mina steady.
“Mr. Grizz! Mina’s hurt! We have to take her back!” someone yelled into his headset. “Maws bit through her lifesaver!”
“Wait a minute! What's going on over there?!” came Mr. Grizz's voice, crackling over the receiver. “What about the eggs?”
“Th-the eggs?” Mina managed to choke out, panting. “Sir, in case you haven’t noticed, I'm seriously hurt! And you're sitting there talking about—"
Mina suddenly convulsed in pain, her body twitching uncontrollably. Gritting her teeth, she sat up, looking down at her shaking hands. What was going on? Why couldn't she stop shaking?
“All right, all right! Rysoma, you’re done for the day!” Grizz replied, sounding more exasperated than concerned. “The rest of you: don’t think this means you can slack off! Get back out there!”
“Sir, shouldn’t someone stay here? Look her over?”
Grizz grumbled audibly, then muttered something about sending Mina to the hospital. With a final buzz of static, the headset went silent.
“Un…believable…” Mina moaned, plopping down on the boat’s deck. “Y-you've gotta be kiddin—”
It was then that her body gave out, unable to endure the pain. The world lurched violently, then faded into darkness as she fainted.
Mina would later find herself in the hospital, dazed and twitching, but well on her way to recovery.
The scars of her encounter, however, would prove to be everlasting. A grim, obvious reminder of the dangers of Salmon Run.
This is only the beginning! Stay tuned.