Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The burning desire to emerge from that wretched place has finally been fulfilled. The adrenaline finally began to wear off, and all Eight could do was stare in the direction of the sun. The surface was much more than what she could have ever imagined, and every movement of the wind made her sway with exhaustion, reminding her that this was real. She had escaped. This wasn’t a dream.

Eight sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. She couldn’t believe the events that had just transpired. Hours ago, she was still hopelessly trapped in the Deepsea Metro. Minutes ago, she was fighting something she couldn’t even begin to understand. And now, she’s basking in the sun’s warm, vibrant light. Marina, the only other Octoling besides Eight, as well as the others, have been non-stop cheering and celebrating. They tell Eight that she just saved the world. Eight can’t help but smile at the thought.

Eight opened her eyes again, squinting from the sunlight, and peered around at the group settled beside her. On her left, Marina and Pearl, the duo who had motivated her to press on and to never give up, despite what the Metro had put Eight through. And to the right, Cap’n Cuttlefish and Agent 3, the former acting as a mentor who endured being isolated down in the Metro as much as she did, and the latter saving her from a brutal death.

Sure, Eight might have just saved the world, but these people helped, too!

“So!” Pearl’s strained voice was barely audible, worsened by the sounds of the aircraft currently hovering above the platform they rested on. “Are we gonna get back home now or what?! I’m seriously getting a migraine from hearing that stupid thing!”

Eight perked up a bit hearing Pearl speak, glancing over to see the shorter Inkling get back up on her feet, her face scrunched into an irritated frown. The volume of the vehicle didn’t particularly bother Eight too much. She was far too tired to care, admittedly.

“I guess we should start heading back, huh?!” Marina chimed in, looking up at the helicopter currently carrying them.

“YO! CHUMBRAINS! OPEN THE DOORS, WE’RE JUMPIN’ IN!” Pearl’s voice gave the last it had to announce her arrival, immediately superjumping straight into the aircraft’s cabin as the metal doors slid open.

Agent 3 nodded to Cap’n Cuttlefish, signaling to him that he should go first. The elderly Cap’n stretched for a moment, then superjumped straight into the cabin without hassle. Agent 3 quickly followed without a word.

Eight hesitated, scrambling to get up from where she sat, only for a hand to place itself onto her shoulder.

“Come on, Agent 8, we’ll go together!”

Eight looked up to see Marina leaning over her, gesturing her free hand for Eight to grab onto. Eight blinked and stared for a moment, processing. Well, her legs were pretty achy, afterall. Eight smiled and took Marina’s hand, feeling herself being lifted. Now, she was back on her feet.

Marina grinned, and then dropped into a stance, peering up at the helicopter above. Eight instantly mirrored her movement, ready to pounce into the noisy aircraft above.

“GO!”

Marina shouted, and the two Octolings shot outward into the sky, hurling straight into the helicopter’s cabin.

Eight practically threw herself into the aircraft, laughing. She almost completely toppled over onto Pearl, but was quick enough to stop her momentum. Marina, on the other hand, gripped the handles placed within the cabin and nonchalantly sat down in the seat across from Pearl, giggling at Eight’s clumsiness.

“HEY HEY, WATCH IT!” Pearl tried to yell, but her voice became nothing but a rasp. There was a hint of annoyance in her tone, but she shrugged it off as Marina’s giggling became louder.

“Watch it there, Agent 8! Don’t wanna get hurt off the clock!” Cap’n Cuttlefish snickered.

Eight couldn’t help but just keep laughing. This was almost too much. The excitement was beginning to hit. They were going to Inkopolis. She was going to see so much. She was going to be able to rest. And the best part about all of it? She had people with her. Friends.

And so, Eight joined them, sitting back down in the much more comfortable seating of the helicopter’s cabin. She watched as Pearl clutched the door to her right and promptly slammed it shut.

“Okay, so, ‘Rina, are we gettin’ takeout tonight again?” Pearl let out a grunt after she spoke, leaning back in her seat.

“Pearl, I think our hero here deserves something more elegant, don’t you think?” Marina replied with a hum, waving a hand in Eight’s direction.

“Oh, YEAH! Of course!” Pearl smirked, gently slapping her own hand against her forehead. She whipped her head around and met eyes with Eight, “Yo, Eight, wanna get some grub with me and Marina? The old man is invited, too.”

Eight’s posture straightened, already imagining the kinds of delicious food Inkopolis offered. Her stomach rumbled just thinking about it.

“I is… erm… am… very hungry!” Eight struggled to form a cohesive sentence. Translating what she remembered from Octoling to Inkling was already proving to be a bit of a hassle.

Everyone in the cabin, besides Agent 3, just stared at her. For a moment, Eight panicked, fearing that she had said something wrong.

“HOLD UP! YOU SPEAK INKLISH?!” Pearl seemed genuinely shocked.

“Wow! You already have a grasp on the Inkling language? That’s incredible!” Marina exclaimed, seemingly proud of Eight, “You’ll settle in Inkopolis in no time!”

Considering Eight had been silent in the Metro, she figured she was safe enough now to finally talk. Even if it was broken and incoherent, it still felt good to have reassurance. The Cap’n looked pleased, nodding at Eight with a grin.

“Agent 8 is full of surprises! Proving herself as being one of our best, wouldn’t you agree, Agent 3?”

The Cap’n nudged Agent 3 who was sitting next to him. The other agent solemnly nodded in response.

Eight didn’t have a response to that. All she could do was break into an uneven smile, turning her head and peering out the window situated to her left. The compliment meant… a lot, actually, especially coming from someone like the Cap’n. And the reassurance from Agent 3 was nice, too.

The cabin fell quiet shortly afterward, leaving Eight to her thoughts again. She could do nothing but stare at the familiar world beckoning her from outside the window. At this height, she could see clouds that stretched out for miles. Some looked fluffier than the last. Others were more round and abstract, forcing Eight to use her imagination and do her best to make sense as to what she was looking at.

However, before long, Eight’s eyelids became increasingly heavy as she stared at an odd looking cloud farthest to the right. She slumped further back into her seat and let out a yawn. Huh, was she really that tired? The comfortable hum of the helicopter’s rotors caused her to close her eyes, and eventually, Eight had fallen into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Familiar voices woke Eight up from her slumber, and she noticed the absent sounds of the rotors. She raised a hand and rubbed her unfocused eyes, wondering for a moment if she should try falling back asleep. It didn’t feel like she had gotten enough rest, afterall. Before she could make a decision, though, something moved against her. Eight instinctively whipped her head back, forcing her eyes open. It was Agent 3, unfazed and silently staring right back at Eight. For a moment, Eight questioned the other Agent’s intentions, before realizing her entire right half of her body was slumped up against them. She must have moved in her sleep, putting a lot of her own weight onto poor Agent 3’s shoulder.

Eight immediately straightened her posture, muttering apologies in the Octarian language before turning away. She heard Cap’n Cuttlefish let out a snort, followed by boisterous laughter from Pearl. Even Marina let out a giggle.

“HAH! You were really snoozin’, Eight!” Pearl cackled, “C’mon! We got grub to go eat!”

“I could go for seconds, thirds, AND fourths right about now!” Cap’n Cuttlefish spoke with his entire chest.

“Something we both can agree on, old man!” Pearl quipped in response, hand reaching over for the cabin’s door handle. With a quick motion with her wrist, the door flew open, and the Inkling hopped out.

To Eight’s surprise, it was now evening, meaning that she had been out for quite a bit. It was dark outside, and maybe even a little reminiscent of the Metro, though, Eight quickly brushed the thought away when she spotted lights behind Pearl’s figure. Marina stood from her seat and jumped out of the cabin just as Pearl did. Then followed by the Cap’n, and then Agent 3.

Eight rubbed her eyes once again, raising her arms to stretch her aching body before standing up and exiting the helicopter. Her eyes scanned the area, feeling a forceful breeze that caused her to jitter. They still seemed to be high up in altitude, probably on top of one of the Inkopolis skyscrapers. That would explain the lack of light.

It's too bad. Eight blinked, trying to envision the sights during daytime. How small the population would seem at such an incredible height like this. Maybe some other time she could ask to come up here during the day and watch. To fully take in each and every detail.

“Agent 8, are you coming?”

Eight’s eyes snapped to her right, noticing Marina and the Cap’n standing idly next to her. She swallowed and hummed a response, nodding, deciding to not speak for the moment.

The group led Eight to a metal door close by that was connected to the building, a dim light outlining its rusty hinges. One after one, they entered the building and made their way down a flight of stairs, all eyes keeping note of Cap’n Cuttlefish for obvious reasons. They decided to skip the other flights of stairs and opted for a nearby lobby with an available elevator.

As they all located and entered an elevator, however, they quickly figured out that all five of them wouldn’t fit in one go.

“Me, ‘Rina and the old man will take this one. Eight, you go ahead and take the other elevator with Agent 3!” Pearl suggested, pointing one of her stubby fingers at the other agent still standing in the lobby.

Eight dipped her head in response, watching as Pearl, Marina, and Cap’n Cuttlefish stuffed themselves inside the first elevator. Pearl slammed her hand against one of the buttons off to the side, which caused the metal doors to slowly close. After a moment, the lobby she stood in fell completely silent.

Agent 3 shuffled towards the second elevator, casually pressing the call button. Eight couldn’t help but glance at the other agent with burning curiosity. Should she formally introduce herself to them? Would now be a bad time? Especially after all of… that? Also, Eight did kind of fall asleep on them back in the helicopter. Maybe they were a bit annoyed by that? Or by… well, everything? To Eight, Agent 3 didn’t seem like the type to strike up conversation.

In fact, Agent 3 didn’t seem like much at all. Eight cocked her head a bit as she examined them further. Squinting, Eight began to recall what was left in her fragmented memories; she knew this was the same Agent 3 that indirectly caused her defection, the link that introduced her to that heavenly melody. The same agent who had saved her and Cap’n Cuttlefish’s life down in the Metro. They were essentially her hero at that point, but they certainly didn’t act like it.

Eight then began to feel guilty. She had to admit that seeing Agent 3 so calm and collected was strange. Her body tensed as she remembered how they acted under hypnosis, almost wondering if they had any memory of the event at all. A selfish part of her hoped that they did, so that they can reconcile and speak about it sometime soon. The other half of her hoped that they didn’t.

Eight had been staring at the other agent as each thought passed, finally darting her eyes away as the second elevator rang a bell when its doors opened. Agent 3 stepped inside and leaned on the wall nearest to the buttons. They sat and waited for Eight, to which Eight promptly reacted, opting to stand next to the opposite wall as they entered. Agent 3 then hit a button, reeling further back against the wall and put their hands into their front pockets.

The elevator doors closed, and then, the entire elevator began to vibrate and hum. With an awkward bump, the mechanism began to shift the unit downward, sending Eight and Agent 3 to their destination.

Of course, the elevator ride was silent. Eight settled on observing a noticeable stain on the carpet she stood on, still debating whether or not she should say something. She wanted to thank them for everything. Their actions that led her to defecting, to where she was now. Eight took a moment to reflect, ultimately deciding it’d be far too silly and sudden to do so right then and there. It didn’t help that Agent 3 was always turned away, probably lost in their own troubled thoughts. So, defeated, Eight decided to not say anything.

Just when Eight thought she’d fall asleep standing up, the elevator unit’s droning abruptly stopped, and the entire room shook as it halted its movement. Then, the chime went off, and the door’s opened. Eight blinked and perked up, relieved to see the others already huddled together. Pearl immediately stepped forward, her hand reaching out where Eight was still standing.

“C’mon! Let’s go get some foooood!” The Inkling yoinked Eight’s hand and ushered her out of the elevator, forcing the rest of the group to follow the both of them into the main lobby of the building.

Drawing closer to the lobby’s front entrance, Eight noticed flashing bright lights pouring through the glass, and she could faintly make out the vibrations of music. Something told her that she was right in the heart of it all.

Pearl let go of Eight’s hand and whipped around, a wide grin forming on her face.

“Go ahead, Eight. I wanna see the look on your face!”

Eight fidgeted for a moment, brain suddenly scrambling. The excitement she felt back on the helicopter returned, though this time ten-fold. The realization of where she was flooded her system, so much so that she had to take several moments to brace herself. Pearl opened her mouth to speak again, but Eight raised a hand and smiled at her.

Enough waiting. Eight was ready to face the world.

Straightening her posture, Eight huffed through her nose and marched forward. She approached the doors and placed her hands around the knobs. With a determined twist and twirl of her wrists, the doors swayed open.

Eight was rendered speechless. Her eyes couldn’t stop scanning. Vibrant lights, the kind that burn if you stare for too long, were everywhere, and displayed the entire spectrum of color. The music she could barely make out before was now heard from all directions, the type that makes you want to stop everything and start dancing. The smells of prepared dishes not too far away made Eight practically start drooling right then and there.

The most important thing, though, was that Eight was surrounded by other people. Some were running around with their weapons, probably hyping up before a round of Turf War. Others were chatting, eating together or huddled in groups on their mobile devices. They all looked so content, with not a care or concern in the world.

That was, until, crowds of them began to notice the group coming out from the building’s entrance.

“Yo, is that Off The Hook? Who are they with?!”

“Hey, who’s the person with the jacket? It looks familiar.”

“OH MY COD! IT'S OFF THE HOOK! CAN YOU SIGN MY FACE?”

Eight immediately hid behind Marina, her anxiety sky-rocketing and confidence fleeting faster than a splat bomb going off. Observing the people from a distance was nice, but now that so many of them were so close, Eight wanted to curl up and hide.

“YO! Hi everyone! Can we have some privacy please?” Pearl did her best to raise her voice, throwing her hands in the air, “We’re gonna make a very special announcement soon, but we want some SPACE! Go back to what you were doin’!”

Marina stepped forward to speak, but was gently tugged back by Eight. The idol glanced back, an eyebrow raised before she realized how badly Eight was now trembling. Marina simply nodded, standing in such a way that Eight would be harder to be seen. Pearl’s warning seemed to have worked, because dozens of Inklings shrugged and turned around. Some exchanged glances with each other and went back to what they were doing, while few continued to eagerly dance around at the sight of their idols.

“Pearlie, could you go get the food?” Marina dipped her head, locking eyes with her partner, “I’m gonna take Agent 8 to my apartment. She’s…-”

Marina gestured toward Eight, who was still far too distressed to move. Pearl must’ve seen her shaking, because the smaller Inkling instantly nodded.

“Oh, uh, sure, yeah! I’ll meet you there.” Pearl replied dryly, head turning to look at Cap’n Cuttlefish, “I dunno what you want, dude. Might as well come with me. Oh, and Agent 3, too, I guess. Honestly, I forgot you were even here.”

With that, Marina clutched Eight’s hand and guided her away from the crowd. Her brisk pace made it hard to keep up with, but Eight eventually managed.

“Sorry, I know you’re tired. But it’s not too far from here!” Marina huffed, glancing back to make sure Eight was keeping up.

Eight didn’t respond. Instead, her mind raced, switching between curiosity and nervousness. She couldn’t help but attempt to look at every detail surrounding her, eventually struggling to process the visual feedback. She readjusted her eyes to look at the floor instead, occasionally glancing up to follow Marina.

There were a few people they passed, reaching out and asking for them to stop. Marina had to urge them off as gently as she could manage, with Eight close behind. Thankfully, as the minutes passed, less and less people were occupying the streets. Marina slowed her pace and allowed Eight to catch her breath for a moment.

“Are you doing okay? We’re not too far, now.” Marina swiped a droopy tentacle off to the side of her face. She lifted her hand to point and continued, though this time in Octarian “Just another corner to pass. The apartment building is right there.”

Eight lowered her brows and lifted her head to identify the building Marina was pointing to. The side of the apartment complex was littered with windows, which reflected a multitude of lights. It was just beyond the street corner, like Marina said. Eight nodded in response and began walking towards it with Marina at her side.

Chapter Text

“Home sweet home!”

Marina opened the front door to her dorm, casually stepping inside the dimly lit entryway and turned to her right to flip on various light switches. Obeying to her demand, the lights in the apartment illuminated the rather large living area inside, leaving Eight in a state of awe. Eight was still standing idle outside, hesitant to enter. She watched Marina settle in from just outside the door. Of course, Marina noticed this and bowed her head as she was putting her keys in a ceramic display bowl.

“You are allowed in, Agent 8. It's okay. You’re my guest tonight!”

Eight feigned a smile, appreciating Marina for her patience. She slid into the apartment and slowly closed the door, quickly removing her heels and immediately bee-lining straight to Marina’s living room area. She practically threw herself onto the couch, feeling the tension in her legs lessen as soon as she did.

“You go ahead and rest until the others get here, okay? I’m going to make some phone calls and get some other things situated.” Marina was already halfway out of the room as she spoke, making her way down the hall that most likely led to her office and bedroom.

The room fell silent afterwards. Eight relaxed herself, shrinking into the couch’s material as she began staring at various objects dotted around Marina’s apartment. Every picture frame, every flower vase, and even every candle made Eight’s eyes shimmer. This place was gorgeous! And probably expensive, Eight guessed. She began to wonder…would she ever afford a housing situation like this one day? To live in an apartment as nice as this one?

Eight sighed to herself, feeling anxiety beginning to swell in her chest. She was so excited to be here, in Inkopolis, alive and intact. But she was also terrified. Something about seeing that crowd outside, seeing the gazes of dozens of Inklings. It triggered something that she hasn’t felt so viscerally before.

Moments passed as she pondered what her new life was going to be like, envisioning herself in new outfits, walking around the Inkopolis square with Pearl and Marina, and watching the clouds pass by over the rooftops. As scary as this new lifestyle was, Eight felt increasingly more optimistic the more she thought about it. Perhaps she just needs time to adjust, time to make herself feel welcome and cared for. She had the comfort of Marina, after all! The idol has already promised to teach Eight most Inkling customs.

The Octoling let out a sigh, which was interrupted when an unexpected jolt of pain shot through her body. She winced, eyebrows burrowing as the pain increasingly ebbed in her chest. It was a bit of an odd feeling that caused Eight to sit upright with a puzzled expression on her face. The swelling in her chest felt much more prominent now, as if the anxiety she was feeling moments before has evolved into something physical.

Immediately, Eight recognized that this was not a normal feeling. This was new. And as each second passed, it was becoming a bit more difficult to breathe. Eight’s thoughts scrambled as she tried to pinpoint what exactly was happening. Was this caused by a lack of rest, mixed with her exhaustion and anxiety? Surely that must be it.

Just as Eight thought the feeling would simmer down, an abrupt, sharp pain in Eight’s back took her breath, causing her to shift in her seat. It was instantly overwhelming, quickly overshadowing her chest pain. Instinctively, Eight lifted her arm and placed her hand upon her back, swiping and massaging as much of the affected as she could manage.

The pain persisted, despite Eight’s efforts. Eight began to hysterically scratch the area with her claws in retaliation, desperate to make the pain go away. She began to panic, stopping when she realized that itching the spot wasn’t helping. What was happening to her? Now, when she moved, or breathed, it made her want to cry out, when only a minute ago she was completely fine.

Eight was on the verge of letting out a wail as the pain in her back suddenly vanished, leaving her lightly gasping for air. The Octoling hunched over, her body curling in on itself as an attempt to recover. Her eyes were wide in shock, not entirely believing what had just happened. She took several minutes to assess the situation, to ensure everything was okay.

As soon as she figured everything was normal again, Eight straightened her posture and stood up from the couch, despite the wobbliness of her legs, and began bolting towards the hallway where Marina had walked into minutes before. Frantically, Eight knocked on every door she saw, hoping to get Marina’s attention.

“Hey, I thought I told you to go ahead and rest up-...” Marina’s voice was on the other side of the third door Eight knocked on, cutting herself off as she peered out from the door frame and saw Eight. She immediately noticed the other Octoling’s frenetic state, continuing to speak, “Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

Eight didn’t bother faking a smile. She made a noise in the back of her throat, frowning as she tried to remember something.

“Do you have… pain relief medication?” Eight’s rigid voice was barely above a whisper, hesitantly speaking in her native tongue.

Marina stared at her for a moment, her expression stony and unmoving. It honestly made Eight a little uneasy. Marina quickly snapped out of it, though, and grinned.

“Absolutely! Here, you go lay back down, I’ll get some for you.”

Eight’s lips attempted to form a smile, moreso out of relief than from Marina’s kindness. The agent turned away and half-limped her way back into the living area, carefully sitting back down onto the couch. Marina followed closely behind until she reached the split between the living area and the kitchen, to which Marina entered the kitchen.

Soon afterward, Marina approached Eight with two white capsules in one hand and a glass cup of some kind of beverage in the other.

“Here, take these.” Marina leaned over and offered the capsules to Eight.

Eight graciously took the cup first, holding out her other hand as Marina placed the capsules onto it. Eight swallowed them both, also emptying the glass cup immediately afterward, offering the cup back to Marina.

“Hopefully that’ll help you feel a little better! ” The idol gently grabbed the cup from Eight’s grip and made her way back towards the kitchen, “Do you need anything else?”

Eight shook her head, obviously still shaken up. Marina glanced behind her to ensure Eight was okay, then quickly turned to enter the kitchen again, setting down the cup somewhere. Eight could hear the other Octoling shuffling around in the kitchen, probably putting away the things she pulled out.

Eight swallowed hard as her mind began to wonder. Should she inform Marina about what just happened?

Just as the thought entered Eight’s mind, music erupted from the kitchen.

Chapter Text

“Oh! It’s Pearl!” Marina exclaimed from the other room, relief hinted in her tone. Eight could hear more movement before Marina spoke again, clearing talking into a cell phone, “Hey! Are you coming up? Oh! Already?” A beat. “Okay, great! I’ll get the door.”

Maybe eating some food will distract Eight from whatever she just experienced. She blankly watched as Marina headed towards the front door, eagerly swinging it open. Beyond it was Pearl and Cap’n Cuttlefish, the two of them carrying take-out cases filled with all sorts of colorful food.

“Miss me?” Pearl flaunted, playfully brushing against Marina as she passed her. The Inkling then met eyes with Eight and hopped over to where she sat. “Hey! We got you something real good. No need to thank me, world saver!”

Pearl shoved one of the cases into Eight’s hands, almost causing it to topple over onto the couch. Pearl muttered a quick ‘oops’, peering back at Marina before quickly setting the other cases onto the table next to the couch. Eight fumbled with her case for a second before getting a firm grip on the sides, tensing as she felt the heat building in her hands.

Curious, Eight sat the case in her lap and examined what remained inside through the top plastic cover. She could make out all sorts of shapes and colors, almost like an art canvas. Her stomach rumbled obnoxiously at the sight, and if she wasn’t starving she would certainly feel embarrassed over it. Being hungry was better than feeling sudden back pain at least.

“Wow, Pearl, you really went all out for this, huh?” Marina had taken the other cases from Cap’n Cuttlefish’s hands, who seemed to greatly appreciate the gesture, and carefully made her way over to the table in front of the couch.

“WELL YEAH!” Pearl exclaimed, her vocal cords still on their last leg. She plopped down beside Eight, “Not like I gotta worry about affording it.”

“Hm, that’s true.” Marina placed the cases to the already existing pile on the table and joined both Eight and Pearl on the couch, skimming over which take-out box was hers. She stopped for a moment, peering up, “Where is Agent 3? Did they decide to go home?”

This time, Cap’n Cuttlefish responded. “Sure did, said they weren’t feeling too well. I’d imagine they feel pretty beat after going through all that mess.”

“Oh, is that where they went? I was too busy orderin’.” Pearl shrugged, mostly to herself, hands already prying open a take-out case.

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to learn more about them.” Marina spoke pensively, “Will they be okay? I hope it's nothing serious.”

“Oh, Agent 3? Absolutely! I’m sure of it. They’re a good sport, and they know how to handle themself, they’ll be just fine.” Cap’n Cuttlefish’s unkempt facial hair comically moved as the older gentleman smiled, proudly reminiscing about his protege.

Eight was struggling to open the plastic case sat in her lap as Marina and the Cap’n conversed, stopping when she thought about her fellow agent. Eight couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed over their absence. Her thoughts mirrored Marina’s exactly; barring Agent 3’s reclusive demeanor, it would’ve been nice to settle down and see if she could try speaking to them, with Marina and Pearl’s help, of course.

Then a disturbing thought flooded Eight’s mind. What made them want to skip out so suddenly? Were they also experiencing similar pains?

Marina opened her mouth to speak once more, catching Eight’s attention again, “Of course! They seem like they’re good company.”

“A little quiet. Kinda weird. Like Eight!” Pearl teased, bumping her elbow gently into Eight’s side. “No offense, squiddo- er, I mean, octo! Oh, uh, here, lemme open that for ya.”

Eight managed a stifled laugh as the Inkling grabbed Eight’s food case and popped the top lid open with little to no effort at all. Pearl then reached over to the table and snatched a pair of chopsticks, leaning back and handing them over to Eight.

Eight attempted a smile to show her gratitude, taking the chopsticks and the case and placing them in her lap. Looking down at her food, Eight had to refrain from thinking too much about those pains from earlier. Again, it begged the question; should she inform the others about what happened? Was she overthinking it? Was Agent 3 going through the same thing as her?

Eight forced her eyes shut, deciding that she’s worried far too much in one day alone. This would simply have to wait until after her mind was clearer.

Impulsively, Eight began to devour her food, ravaging the contents of the take-out box at an alarming rate. Pearl actually glanced over in slight horror as she witnessed firsthand Eight’s dinner annihilation. To say the food was delicious was a vast understatement.

Marina and even the Cap’n peered at Eight with raised eyebrows, expressions mixed with both amazement and concern. Eight couldn’t care less. She was having the time of her life, now that she decided to set aside her troubles. 

Minutes passed as Eight continued to eat, with Pearl and Marina exchanging a few words with Cap’n Cuttlefish. Eventually, the Cap’n finished his meal and got up to stretch.

“Well, you ladies have my credentials, correct? If ya ever need anything, let me or Agent 3 know!” The Cap’n croaked, wiping his beard with a napkin, “I should get going and see what the other agents are up to.”

“Sounds like a deal to me, old man!” Pearl replied with her mouthful, much to the dismay of Marina.

“Right, that sounds good! I’ll be sure to check with you soon if anything pops up.” Marina nudged Pearl slightly as she spoke, handing her Inkling partner a napkin.

Eight chomped down another bite as she processed what the Cap’n said. Other agents? A short lived jolt of excitement shot through her. More agents could only mean one thing; more friends.

“Thank you for having me, young ladies! Your home is very charming. Now, where is your trash?” Cap’n Cuttlefish used his cane to maneuver the space between the table and the armchair he sat in.

“Oh, please, just leave it there, I’ll take care of it.” Marina waved with her arm, “You’re my guest after all-”

“Trash is in the kitchen, behind the door on the right.” Pearl butted in, expression completely deadpan.

Marina, of course, frowned at her partner’s callousness. Pearl simply shrugged again in response, mouthing a ‘sorry’ to Marina as if it would help her case. Eight couldn’t help but chuckle, even if the butt end of the joke was her superior. Thankfully, Cap’n Cuttlefish laughed it off, too. He took his now empty take-out box and made his way into the kitchen. Marina whispered something into Pearl’s pointed ear, causing the Inkling to shift in her seat.

“Well, SORRY! He was like, kinda rude to you, ‘Rina, remember?! I ain’t lettin’ it slide!” If Pearl’s voice wasn’t giving out so badly, surely the Cap’n would’ve heard her from the other room.

“Pearlie, that was a while ago. We can address that some other time.” Marina whispered again, loud enough that Eight could hear. Pearl went quiet afterward, huffing out an exaggerated sigh.

Moments later, Cap’n Cuttlefish made his way back into the living room, utterly oblivious of the conversation just had about him. He started to turn towards the front door, but before he began to make his way towards it, he glanced over at Eight.

“I hope you have a good night, Agent 8! You did great! You go ahead and get some rest.” Cap’n Cuttlefish made a calling motion with his hand, resembling a mobile device, “I’ll let ya know if you’re needed anytime soon!”

Eight didn’t stop eating, but she acknowledged what he had said with a respectful nod. With that, the Cap’n turned again and stepped in front of the door, making his way out of the apartment. Marina and Eight both waved at the senior Inkling as he began to close the door. As soon as it closed, Pearl groaned.

“‘Rina, you are too nice for your own good sometimes.”

“Maybe. But isn’t that why you like me so much?” Marina refuted, earning her a scoff from Pearl.

“Pfft. Sure.” Pearl wiped her face with a napkin, tossing her now emptied plastic case onto the table, “Still eating, Eight? It's good, right?”

Eight hummed in response, stuffing whatever bits of the dish that were left into her mouth. Pearl and Marina both giggled at the sight.

“Hey, so, since you ain’t got anywhere to go, you can crash here tonight, okay? We already discussed this before you got here.” Pearl turned to face Eight, a napkin still occupying her hands.

“Are you okay with that, Agent 8? If not, we can reserve a great hotel room for you, if you’d prefer that.” Marina made sure to swallow her food before she spoke.

Eight peered up at the duo sitting beside her, feeling a bit spoiled and undeserving of their continual kindness. No wonder these two had such a huge following.

“Here… is nice. Thank.” Eight replied, voice softer than she anticipated.

“Cool! We can get you set up in the guest room.” Pearl winced from her strained voice for the first time today, slowly getting up from her seat on the couch. She glanced over at Marina, “Got anything for a sore throat?”

“Oh, yes! Up in the cupboard, where the usual stuff is.” Marina leaned and placed her dish aside, “You go ahead and help yourself, I’ll get everything ready for Agent 8.”

“Mkay, also you don’t have to call her ‘agent’ anymore, y’know.” Pearl crossed the room and spoke with her hands, “Sounds a bit goofy to me.”

Marina warmly sighed, choosing to ignore her Inkling partner. She turned to face Eight directly, “Did you have enough? If not, you can have the rest of mine.” The Octoling tilted her head in the direction of the table where her unfinished meal was sitting, “I’d like to show you the guest room first, though! Just to get you nice and situated.”

Eight sat for a moment, eyes darting down to her now emptied tray. She would love to go for seconds, but it's probably best she allows her body to adjust for now.

“I am finished eating. Thank you.” Eight cringed hearing herself speak so weakly in her own native language, “I would love to get some sleep.”

Marina bowed her head in response, standing up from where she was sitting, “Great! Let’s get you ready for bed. Here, I’ll show you where you’ll be resting tonight.” She gestured to Eight, beckoning her to follow.

Eight slid her empty take-out box onto the table and quickly accompanied Marina.

Chapter Text

A light knocking sound caused Eight to stir where she laid, sleep slipping away from her fatigued mind. She groaned, obviously irritated, and turned her body, doing her best to ignore the noisy pedestrians across the subway car. As she moved, Eight could feel some soft fabric splayed on top of her. Did someone go out of their way to give her a blanket? How kind. That’s never happened before.

Come to think of it, the benches felt pretty nice this time around. It almost felt like she was laying on a complete mattress. What subway car was she on? If this is what their seats feel like, then she was going to--

Wait. This wasn’t the Metro.

Eight felt so disorientated in her sleep haze that she completely forgot where she was. Letting out a yawn, she raised her hands and rubbed her eyes, flinching from sunlight as she attempted to open them. Warm sun rays bled through the window curtains on her right, coating the guest room in a faint orange-yellow, as opposed to the fluorescent subway lights she was used to waking up to down in the Deepsea Metro. It was going to take some time to adjust to the sunlight.

Eight can’t remember the last time she woke up feeling this rejuvenated. In the Metro, it was rare to get more than three hours of rest uninterrupted. Here, she had awoken in what essentially felt like a cloud, luxuriously experiencing the after effects of a full night’s rest. It felt amazing.

Another knock, much more audible now, made Eight jerk her head. She turned in the direction of the sound.

“Agent 8? Are you awake?”

Marina’s muffled voice was behind a white door to Eight’s left.

“Yo, Eight! Me and ‘Rina gotta go do our bizz. You might wanna get up.”

And Pearl’s.

Eight brushed one her tentacles out from her face and wiped her glossy eyes once more. As much as the Octoling wanted to fall back asleep, she knew it was important that she would at least give some kind of response.

“Awake.” Eight winced as she spoke, not realizing how dry her throat had become.

A second later, the door clicked open. Marina and Pearl both entered the room in outfits Eight didn’t recognize.

“Sorry to wake you so early, Pearl and I have to go do a broadcast.” Marina stepped closer to the bed, dipping her head down as she continued, “You’re more than welcome to stay here, but I think it’d be good to have you come with us!”

Before Eight could respond, Pearl hopped forward.

“YEAH! You can come watch us! We might even give you a shoutout!”

Eight stared at the two in front of her, eyes stinging a bit from the sunlight bouncing off the walls. It took a moment for Eight to process everything they said, swallowing hard as she remembered how yesterday went when she was in public. Marina must have noticed Eight’s reaction because the other Octoling quickly leaned over and placed her hand on Eight’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. We have a status here, and we’ll use it to make you feel welcome, I promise.”

Marina then gave Eight a smile and offered her a hug, to which Eight gladly accepted. As they embraced, Pearl gave Eight a thumbs up behind Marina’s back to reassure her further. Marina then broke away, turning towards the door.

“Let us know if you want to head out, okay? Just keep in mind that we do need to leave soon.” Marina stopped in the doorway, glancing back at Eight as she finished her statement, “If you decide to come, feel free to check out the dressers in here! I stored a few outfits for you to try on."

Eight’s eyes lit up, immediately nodding in response. Marina and Pearl then walked out of the room, giggling, and closed the door behind them. Eight could hear the duo say something behind the door, but it was too faint to make out.

Now alone in the guest room, Eight let out a sigh as she prepared to get out of bed. She gripped the ends of her blanket and threw it completely over her, scooting herself closer to the side of the bed. She sat upright and dropped her legs off the sides of the mattress, moving herself forward until her feet planted themselves on the wooden floor. Eight stood up, annoyed that her legs still felt sore.

Choosing to ignore that, Eight paced around the room as she searched the room’s sleek, modern dressers. It didn’t take long to find a nice shirt and jacket to accompany it with, as well as a pair of jeans that complimented the jacket’s colors quite nicely. Eight didn’t bother messing with her tentacles too much, satisfied with her appearance.

There were three separate pairs of boots placed underneath the biggest dresser, and a pair of sneakers just to the right. Eight grinned, giddy at the thought of Pearl and Marina taking the time to do this for her. It was honestly super sweet. Eight reached for the pair of brown boots in the middle, carrying them in her hands as she turned and made her way out of the room.

Eight walked down the hallway and entered the living room, where Marina and Pearl were both sitting on the couch. They peered up as Eight approached, smiles appearing on their faces.

“NICE! I mean, not my style, but NICE.” Pearl whooped, doing a motion with her hand that Eight didn’t quite understand.

“You look great!” Marina praised, “Do you want to come along?”

Eight hesitated before replying, her eyes focusing on the floor, “Yes. I will… like going.”

“GOOD! NOW LET’S GO!” Pearl jumped from her seat, prancing towards the front door, “We gotta do this QUICK! I don’t want another crowd of people piling up on us.”

“Of course, Pearlie.” Marina got up from the couch and glanced over at Eight, “Okay, Agent 8. Let’s go. I’ll guide you.”

Eight slumped over a little, rubbing her arm with her hand. As much as she hated to admit it, she was a little ashamed of how she acted yesterday. She was almost dreading going back outside, having to face those crowds of Inklings again. She feared that she will embarrass herself. It was bad enough that she couldn’t speak to them in their own language, imagine if they heard her say something wrong. Will any of them even accept her? Will they be afraid of her?

Marina’s hand landed on Eight’s shoulder again, snagging the latter away from her thoughts.

“Please don’t worry.” Marina spoke softly, probably doing her best to comfort, “You’re a hero, remember?”

Eight took a second to register Marina’s words, floored over her wording. Oh, yeah. Marina was right. Inkopolis was still standing because of her. Like, Eight literally saved the world yesterday.

What did she have to worry about?

Eight’s brows snapped downward into fierce arches as she straightened her posture, displaying newfound confidence.

“I remember.”

Chapter Text

Exiting the entrance of Marina’s apartment building, Eight had to stop and take in the morning sights of Inkopolis. Blue skies and warm sunshine, accompanied with a cool breeze made Eight’s hearts sputter with excitement. The sounds of her boots meeting with the concrete sidewalk caused her rounded ears to flick. The reflection of the sun rays bouncing off the windows of the building across the street forced Eight to squint, though she honestly couldn’t be bothered by it.

Yup, It all checks out. Inkopolis was even better during the day.

Eight broke out into a wide grin, unable to contain her delight. Sure, crowds of people were intimidating, but if this was what Inkopolis was like everyday, then what did she have to be afraid of? She scoffed as she remembered her cowardice from yesterday evening and turned to see where Marina and Pearl had gone.

Pearl was loudly blabbering into her mobile device as she paced around on the sidewalk, miffed about something or other, Eight wasn’t sure. Marina was sitting on a public bench underneath a potted tree, expression completely neutral and unphased.

Eight smiled to herself as she admired Marina from afar, watching as the other Octoling began fiddling with her phone. There was no doubt in Eight’s mind that Marina had quickly become her favorite person. From allowing her a place to stay, to encouraging her down in the Metro, Eight was forever grateful that it was Marina of all people who picked up that radio signal. Eight figured this was the closest she’d get to having a sister, even if in standard Octarian society the concept of siblings was pretty loose at best. However, Eight was certain Marina felt the same way.

Eight then looked at Pearl, examining the Inkling’s outfit. Pearl had great taste, even if her personality didn’t quite fit the rest of the bill. That was okay to Eight, though. Pearl was just as worthy of becoming her favorite person, too. Eight personally thought she was just a bit too loud and crude at times, though she’d never openly admit it. Eight was aware the Inkling had the best of intentions and greatly respected her for that.

Pearl whipped her head in Eight’s direction, causing Eight to dart her eyes away as if she wasn’t just staring at the Inkling for the past minute. Thankfully, Pearl didn’t seem to notice.

“FINALLY! Okay, sorry guys, the car’s comin’ now.” Pearl gestured towards a black car making its way down the street.

Eight turned to get a better look. It was a car with sharp angles, metal accents on the front and an impressive paint job that made the exterior noticeably shine. Just from appearance alone, Eight could tell that this vehicle was quite expensive.

It approached and parked right where Eight stood. Pearl rushed over and leaned towards the front windows.

“What in the WORLD took you so long?!” Pearl interrogated the driver, who was still rolling down the tinted window.

“Sorry Miss Pearl, there were a lot of people in line at Slunkin’.” A deep voice answered from the driver seat, “We got your order, though.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll accept that.” Pearl huffed out a sigh, leaning almost entirely into the car from the window, “The Macha Hybrid? Please tell me you got a straw this time.”

“Yes, Miss Pearl. Are you and your company ready to go?” The driver questioned apologetically as they reached out and gave Pearl a straw.

Pearl snatched the item out of the driver’s hand and stepped back, waving the straw towards Eight and Marina, “UH DUH? We’ve been waiting for like five minutes, dude.”

The driver didn’t respond back, simply nodding as they rolled up the tinted window. A moment later, someone else opened one of the rear doors and climbed out from the car. They were somewhat short, just barely passing Pearl’s height, and they were suited in an elegant suit, fitted with multiple pairs of gloves.

“Miss Pearl, Miss Marina, good morning.” The suited person greeted the duo in a flat voice, earning a respectful nod from Marina. They then turned to face Eight, “Good morning, miss. May I have your name?”

“Eight.” Pearl blurted out before Eight could answer, brushing past the stranger and climbing into the car through where the door had been opened.

“Nice to meet you, Eight. You may call me Mister Dennerli.” The suited gentleman blinked his bulbous eyes in a friendly manner, moving away from the opened car door as an invitation for Eight to join Pearl seated inside.

Eight froze for a moment before nodding and giving the gentleman a smile. Eight stepped closer and ducked her head as she climbed inside the vehicle.

The back of the car was much more spacious than Eight was anticipating. The seats wrapped around towards the front, and the opposite side of the vehicle held a white table. There were paper bags lying on the surface, with Pearl already rummaging through them.

“C’mere, Eight. You can sit here. Hopefully they didn’t get our order wrong.” Pearl halted for a second to pat the seat next to her, not bothering to glance over.

Eight obliged and scooted herself closer, tilting her head to inspect the items Pearl pulled out from the bags. As Pearl did this, Eight began to smell toasted bread and butter. There was movement as Marina entered the car, situating herself besides Eight. Shortly afterward, Mister Dennerli followed Marina and closed the door, waddling over to the seats closest to the exit.

“Here, ‘Rina, here’s your muffin.” Pearl gripped one of the boxes and leaned into Eight, passing the box over to Marina. She stopped and grabbed another box and peered over, “And this is for you, Eight. Lemme know if you like it!”

Eight reclined back into her seat, half-smiling as she took the box from Pearl’s hand. She paused for a moment to inspect the flimsy box, drawn to the colorful advertisement plastered all over the sides and the top. There was weight to it, leaving Eight curious as to what exactly Pearl ordered.

“Delvin, you can start heading to the Square now!” Pearl barked a command to the driver, her vocal chords still wanting to give out. She lowered her volume as she looked over at Eight and Marina, “Seatbelts, guys.”

Pearl, Marina, and Mister Dennerli shifted in their seats, yanking leather straps with silver tips over their torsos. Eight watched her peers and mimicked their movement, adjusting the belt over herself. She pulled until the strap resisted her strength, causing Pearl to glance over.

“Oh, um, you only need to fit it in place, Eight. Don’t pull too hard, you might snap it.” The Inkling let out a snort as she pointed at a plastic bit hidden in the seats on Eight’s left, “Fit the metal part in there.”

Ah, of course. Eight’s face grew warm with embarrassment, feeling a little silly over her mistake. She adjusted the belt and slid the silver part into the plastic bit’s socket. It clicked as she did this.

Pearl shuffled in her seat as she spoke again, “Y’know, I just realized. We never put our harnesses on back in the helicopter, did we?”

“No, I don’t think we did.” Marina was opening the box Pearl had given her as she recalled her memory, “I mean, we weren’t flying dangerously, so…” Marina trailed off as she lifted her muffin and took a chunk out of it.

“Hm. Fair enough.” Pearl shrugged and opened her own box, revealing a rather tasty sandwich. It didn’t take long before Pearl started to devour it.

Eight glanced at her friends, who were now chomping their ways through their meals. Eight lowered her eyes and looked at the box she was holding. She cupped the sides and lifted the top, immediately greeted by a small sandwich sitting inside. Smoke was rising from the breaded top, signifying that it was prepared not too long ago. Eight’s stomach growled at the sight. Wow, was she already that hungry?

After a second of consideration, Eight shrugged, picked up her sandwich and bit into it. She chewed, processed what she was eating, and swallowed. It wasn’t as remarkable as her dinner from last night, but it would suffice.

“How is it?” Marina asked after watching Eight slump further back into her seat, “It’s good, yes?”

“It is fine.” Eight curtly replied.

“Fine? Like, JUST fine?” Pearl questioned, hastily grabbing a napkin and rubbing it over her lips, “You don’t hate it, right?”

“No, no hate.” Eight consoled, not wanting to seem like she didn’t enjoy it, “I like.”

Eight took another bite after she spoke, causing both Pearl and Marina to return their attention to their own meals. She moved in her seat again, noticing how the seats were composed of high quality material, but felt far too firm to be comfortable. Ironic that an expensive suite car such as this one would have such uncomfortable and impractical seating.

It was also impractical to have windows you could barely see out of. Eight took note of how the tinted glass prevented her from seeing the outside world. It was disappointing. Now would be an opportune time to sightsee and to learn about the city, or to perhaps get some directions to the shopping districts.

That would simply have to wait.

With a sigh, Eight’s attention turned to Mister Dennerli. He was silently seated near Marina, his legs neatly crossed and his upper appendages laid across his lap. Eight didn’t mean to stare, but she was intrigued; she had forgotten how many other species of life there were besides Octarians and Inklings. He reminded her of the people in the Deepsea Metro. He was soft spoken, and the way he was seated made her think of Iso Padre, a frequent rider of the Metro, and the one who helped Eight recover her memories.

The Deepsea Metro was a horrible experience, Eight knew, but if she could have one more chance to see Iso Padre again, she would take it without hesitation. Iso Padre was good to her, and Eight grew fond of him after their first encounter.

“Is there something you need, young lady?” Mister Dennerli’s antennae twitched as he curled his body and faced Eight.

Eight’s shoulders flew up, startled. She was so lost in her thoughts. How long was she staring?

“No. I am sorry.” Eight sputtered out, holding a hand up to her mouth to hide her forming blush, “I am sorry.”

Eight heard Pearl cackle, a used napkin falling off the Inkling’s lap as her torso bounced from laughter.

“What, are you not used to seeing butlers, Eight?” Pearl asked as she caught her breath, nudging Eight playfully with her arm.

“Pearlie…” Marina’s tone was cautionary, causing Pearl to defensively throw up her hands, half eaten sandwich still clutched tightly.

“Ah, c’mon, that was a little funny.” Pearl took another bite of her sandwich and nodded at Mister Dennerli, “Right, Denny? Don’t take offense, she’s new to these parts.”

“Oh, that’s okay!” The suited gentleman raised one of his appendages and waved it, “Do not worry, Miss Eight! Do you like Inkopolis so far? Has it been treating you fairly?”

Eight’s head was hanging low as a result of her error, finding it hard to pick it back up as she responded.

“It is nice.”

An audible hum came from Mister Dennerli.

“That’s good to hear. I can sense you feel overwhelmed, but I can assure you, this city isn’t as intimidating as it seems. Give yourself some time to adjust!”

Eight didn’t bother to look up as she raised her meal up to her mouth and bit into it. There was comfort in Dennerli’s words, sure, but if Eight was already having trouble keeping herself in line, keeping focus…

No, she was Inkopolis’ hero.

There was no sense in beating herself up over something so minuscule.

“Thank you.” Eight lifted her head, meeting eyes with Mister Dennerli, “I … will try.”

Chapter Text

Eight sat and waited, minutes passing as the car continued to cruise down Inkopolis’ streets, passing by buildings and citizens alike. Even though the windows were still a bit troublesome to see through, Eight could make out figures passing by, their colorful clothing dulled by the tinted glass.

Eight imagined herself walking down those same sidewalks; She imagined herself greeting people in their language, and thought about heading inside the shops to buy herself things. Things that were indulgent, and not necessary. Perhaps she’d go out and purchase a new pair of shoes when she felt ready. Not that she didn’t like the pairs Marina picked out for her this morning; the thought of owning her own things just seemed much more appealing.

…If only time would speed up. Eight was aware of how unrealistic she was thinking. She hasn’t even been in Inkopolis for a total of twenty-four hours yet, and here she was, daydreaming again. There were plenty of mental gymnastics to push through before she could venture into the streets alone.

Still, even if that was true, it didn’t hurt to think about it, right?

Eight sighed to herself.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do a broadcast today, Pearl?” Marina finally broke the silence, her tone faintly concerned, “I don’t want you to strain your vocal chords. You can damage them if you continue to push yourself.”

Pearl wiggled in her seat at the question.

“I’m okay, ‘Rina, don’t worry.” The Inkling placed her beverage on the table in front of her, “I’ve been through worse, honestly.”

“If you say so…” Marina neatly folded a napkin and used it to wipe her mouth, glancing over at Eight, “How are you feeling?”

Eight snapped her eyes over at Marina, forcing a smile, “Excited.”

Marina seemed pleased with this response, returning the smile. Pearl, on the other hand, fidgeted in her seat, causing both Octolings to peer over at her.

“You better be! Because you’re about to become the most popular kid in town!”

Eight dropped an eyebrow, feeling a little skeptical about the sentiment.

Pearl continued, “Everyone’s gonna wanna be your friend, Eight! Like, I mean, everyone. Me and ‘Rina have that kind of power. And you totally deserve the recognition, anyway.”

One of Eight’s tentacles twitched with both delight and slight horror at the thought. Everyone? How many Inklings are going to come up to her and ask to be her friend? Dozens of them? Hundreds? Thousands?! Eight blinked. Okay, maybe not thousands. But if the entirety of Inkopolis knew of her and her actions…

Honestly, the more Eight thought about it, the more her interest seemed to fade about the whole thing. She was already friends with Marina and Pearl. Wasn’t that enough to satisfy the public into accepting her? Did she really need to befriend everyone? To be their hero, and treated with respect?

Their hero.

…

Eight hesitated, boggling ideas within her head around for a moment before coming to a sudden realization. She decided, right then and there, that the only person she truly wanted to befriend was… 

Agent 3. They were her hero, so it only seemed fair.

Eight recalled the moment they shared in the elevator yesterday and frowned, annoyed at her own inability to make conversation. Besides Pearl, Marina, and the Cap’n, Agent 3 was the only other person involved with the whole ‘saving the world’ thing. Plus, Eight couldn’t help but admire them, even if their time together down in the Metro was a bit undesirable. Befriending Agent 3 made the most sense, anyway.

Eight then remembered the ‘other agents’ Cap’n Cuttlefish mentioned last night, wondering if they were anything like Agent 3. Something deep within Eight hoped that they were.

Surely there was no reason to extend herself to the public that badly if she already had connections? Connections that were already so amazing to her?

“Hey, ya done eatin’?” Pearl lightly nudged Eight with her arm, forcing the Octoling to jolt away from her thoughts, “We’re a few minutes away from the Square.”

Eight recollected herself and bowed her head, setting her trash down onto the table in front of her. Again, Eight and the others sat and waited until the car slowed itself to a stop. It was Mister Dennerli who got up first, his limbs stretching and cracking audibly as he opened the door they had all entered from. It took him a second to climb out, given the way he was shaped. Eight flinched from the sunlight as the door opened. Once he was situated, he idled next to the door after brushing his suit down, his antennae twitching.

“As requested, our stop is right outside Inkopolis Square, approximately ten minutes before Inkopolis News airs.” The suited gentleman waved one of his appendages as he spoke.

“Grea- Wait. TEN MINUTES?” Pearl jumped from her seat, letting out an audible breath of air as she was bounced back from the seat belt still wrapped around her. She mumbled something under her breath that Eight could only infer was a curse, fumbling with the seat belt, “We gotta go NOW.”

Marina shared the same sense of urgency, her tentacles beginning to writhe, “We sure do. Eight, press the red part on your seat belt and follow me, okay?”

Eight wasted no time and did exactly as she was instructed, watching as the seat belt gave way and freed her from the seat. Hastily, Marina, followed closely by both Eight and Pearl, hopped out from the car.

“‘KAY, BYE DENNY! BYE DEL! Tell dad I said thanks, or whatever.” Pearl lowered her voice as she turned away from the vehicle, eyes rolling but without actual malice. She then audibly sighed and glanced at Marina, “Sorry, I didn’t think they’d be so late this morning.”

“It’s okay! If we go quickly, we’ll still be five minutes early at best!” Marina was already briskly pacing down the sidewalk.

Pearl said something else, though Eight didn’t hear what it was. Eight, instead, was stuck silently scanning the buildings towering around her. Irritation panged behind her eyes as she remembered the rooftop from last night, and how she was unable to fully take in the view. If only she could be on top of that building now…

One particular structure then caught Eight’s attention, quickly brushing her thoughts away. Eight undoubtedly recognized the shape of the Great Zapfish, comfortably settled right on top of the building, its elongated body coiling around the structure. The sight caused Eight to perk up. She had never seen the Great Zapfish in person before.

And Eight sensed that was exactly where she was headed.

Movement behind Eight caught her attention, and she turned to watch Mister Dennerli already retreating back into the car.

“Stay safe, Miss Eight. I hope to see you again sometime soon!”

Eight cocked her head and smiled in response, waving to the butler as he continued to climb further into the car, closing the door behind him. With that, Eight refocused and began following Marina and Pearl, who were already several feet ahead of her.

“C’mon, Eight!” Pearl’s voice still seemed to struggle past a certain volume, “I wanted to park closer, but because of that crowd yesterday, I figured I’d have us be a little farther away. Y’know.”

“Makes sense.” Marina huffed out, echoing Eight’s thoughts exactly, “It’s only around the corner, anyways.”

“Yeah!” There was a pause as Pearl glanced behind her, directing her words to Eight, “You still excited?”

Eight knitted her eyebrows at the question. She breathed in a breath of fresh air, taking note of the smallest bit of anxiety beginning to swell in her chest. Of course she was excited, so why was she still hesitating to answer?

The bland concrete beneath her feet bounced sunlight into Eight’s sensitive eyes as she internally scrambled her thoughts. She instinctively threw her arm up and stroked one of her own tentacles, a sensation that lazily distracted her from the looming threat of self-consciousness. The ugly, familiar feeling from yesterday evening was actively trying to come back now as Eight continued to walk. But instead of submitting defeat and being devoured from fear, Eight found herself feeling increasingly agitated, instead.

Eight almost didn’t catch Marina peering back at her, the other Octoling’s eyes filled with concern. They softened, though, after Eight tightened her own eyes with determination. Marina turned away after that, letting Eight focus on her surroundings again.

Various advertisements plastered on windows and billboards across the street caught Eight’s attention the most. Most were filled with Inkling writing in bold, white lettering, with big images of the product accompanying it.

The group kept walking for another minute, the sidewalks thankfully barren of anyone. It wasn’t until Eight’s rounded ears perked at the sound of distant voices that signified other forms of life. There was apparent laughter with a mix of music in between.

The voices drew nearer as the group continued to walk, becoming much clearer as they passed a corner. Pearl and Marina took a sharp turn the opposite way, leading behind a well lit area behind a white building. Eight staggered for a moment before catching herself, following the two further until the wall to her right cut off and opened towards a clearing.

The structure Eight had seen the Great Zapfish lying on earlier was now completely in view. She could see the base of it now, completely surrounded by groups of Inklings and Jellyfish, as well as a few other types of people she’s never seen before. The crowd she had seen yesterday was nothing compared to this. This place was absolutely bustling; Inklings were practically everywhere.

Before Eight could even process what she was looking at, Pearl reached out and clutched Eight’s arm, dragging her back behind the wall.

“Hold up, Eight! Oh, um, sorry, didn’t mean to yank ya.” Pearl released Eight from her grasp and pointed towards an alleyway to Eight’s right, “Me and ‘Rina usually go that way to get to the news station, y’know, to avoid all the people in the Square.”

Marina stepped beside Pearl and chimed in, “We want you to go ahead and explore the Square while we get ready for the broadcast. Is that okay with you? Will you be alright with that?”

Eight didn’t respond for a moment, still struggling to wrap her head around the sudden change in population density just around the corner.

“Um… that…” Eight hesitated, forcing herself to draw in a deep breath, “...okay.”

It was blatantly obvious that Eight wasn’t confident in her answer, but Pearl and Marina both nodded anyway. Marina took a step forward and embraced Eight in a hug.

“We just need to get this done and over with. It won’t take very long.” Marina then pulled away and met Eight’s gaze, giving the younger Octoling a beaming smile, “Pearl and I will be keeping an eye on you, okay? Go have some fun.”

“Yeah, enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts!” Pearl blurted out, her tentacles swaying as she spoke, “‘Cause like I said before, everyone’s gonna wanna know ya!”

As humorous as Pearl intended to be with the tease, Eight didn't quite get it. Maybe she could ask Pearl and Marina to not mention her in the broadcast at all…?

Before Eight could even attempt to ask, though, the others were already turning away. Marina flashed another grin at her accompanied with a friendly wave.

“See you in a bit, Eight!”

Eight stood and watched as her friends disappeared into the alleyway. Just like that, Eight was alone. Alone, and a corner away from the most populated part of the city.

Chapter Text

Everything seemed to be at a standstill, and yet, it seemed so alive at the same time.

Eight’s senses were threatening to fail her as she turned the corner and faced the Square once again. The visual feedback, the noises that surrounded her, and the crowds of people; all of it was indeed overwhelming.

It pricked many strings within Eight’s core. Her hearts were beginning to beat like drums. Her anxiety caused an uncomfortable knot to form in her abdomen.

And yet, the Octoling continued to march forward.

The urge to turn back and run, to hide away from the world just like Eight had done yesterday evening still persisted in each step; But Eight simply refused. She has already made too many meager errors for it to matter now. She needed to do this if she was going to belong in this city.

As Eight observed earlier, the Square was full with all sorts of people. Jellyfish, Shrimp, Urchins, and of course, dozens of Inklings flooded the streets. So many of them were carrying food, clothing, Turf War equipment, backpacks; the list could go on and on, if only Eight knew the direct translations.

It took effort to part her eyes away from the crowds, but Eight eventually did. She looked up towards the Great Zapfish once again, admiring its grand size. To think that this was the same entity her kind captured all those years ago, now settled peacefully in broad daylight, on display for dozens of people indifferent to its existence.

Below the Great Zapfish were other structures attached to the building. More advertisements were mounted onto the building’s front side, following the curve of the circular exterior. A giant screen further down stuck out like a sore appendage; it displayed the current time.

Another screen similar to that one was on a building to Eight’s left, displaying an obnoxiously bright advertisement for a brand she was somewhat familiar with. It was certainly eye-catching. Eight figured that was the intention, as unnecessary as it seemed.

Eight paused her observations as a group of Inklings approached her, causing her to hold her breath. Thankfully, they passed by quickly and continued to go about their own business. Eight let out a huff of relief and decided that standing in one spot all day wasn’t going to satisfy what remained of her loose curiosity. Not only that, but focusing on the crowds wasn’t helping her feel more at ease.

Eight clamped her hands into fists, mostly as an attempt to ground herself, and awkwardly shuffled further towards the middle of the Square. As she moved, music fully engulfed her rounded ears. Her ears instinctively perked up at the sound, absorbing the infectious beats immediately like a sponge. Eight couldn’t resist tapping her foot to the percussion.

The music was comforting, even if Eight wasn’t familiar with it. If she wasn’t right smack dab in the middle of Inkopolis Square surrounded by strangers, she would’ve broken out into a shuffle by now. Eight scoffed to herself at the thought. Imagine what people would think if she did that? Would people come and join her? Or would they stare and question her? Mock her? Another spike of anxiety shot through her core.

But before Eight could ponder further, the music was abruptly cut off.

Eight froze. Her foot snapped down onto the concrete, hard, and without rhythm.

A lump formed in Eight’s throat as the Square fell silent. The crowds around her seemed to suddenly stop in unison, starving their conversations to a complete halt. Eight hesitated for a moment before scanning her eyes around. She quickly noticed that many groups of Inklings were staring at the screen she examined a minute ago. As curious as ever, and undoubtedly nervous, Eight took another step forward and peered up at the screen.

Instead of the display showing the current time, it was now switched to a graphic; it was decorated with bold lettering, consisting of pinks, teals, and white. Eight almost wanted to let out a yelp. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Off The Hook’s news broadcast preparing to make its ‘big announcement’.

Eight’s tentacles writhed and curled into themselves as the oncoming silence filled her ears. Just like yesterday evening, her frame shrunk into itself. Her shoulders slumped down, but they were tense. Her legs began to wobble from a mixture of premature exhaustion and dread; She couldn’t help but feel exposed, threatened even. The announcement hasn’t even happened yet and Eight was already feeling like this was far too much for her to handle.

But something forced her to stay put. Perhaps it was her undying determination to remain here, to allow herself to soak in the pride of just how much she’s accomplished. Her body was strained and locked into position. All she could do was solemnly stare at the large screen attached to the building in front of her.

And just when it was all becoming a bit too much, the screen buzzed and flickered. A transition screen flashed by and seconds later, Pearl and Marina were staring right at the camera. Right at Eight.

“Good morning, everyone!” Both idols spoke in unison.

Eight felt like turning around and sprinting towards the nearest alleyway. Her body refused to move, though.

“How’s it going? Are we all awake and ready for some news?” Pearl smirked and curled her eyebrows, clearing her throat and continuing, “Well, if ya are, then we’ve got some BIIIIG news for ya!”

Eight’s face contorted into a frown.

“Indeed we do! Pearl and I, as well as our crew here at Inkopolis News, have agreed that this information is very important.”

“We sure did! But I ain’t gonna cookie cut it, I’m just gonna get straight to the point. I’m sure some of ya around Inkopolis have noticed some strange lookin’ Inklings waltzing around.” Pearl snuck a glance over at Marina as she spoke, one that Eight immediately understood as a precaution. Pearl then returned her golden irises in focus to the camera, “Well! Turns out they’re just Octolings! And they’re just trying to hang out!”

Eight’s stomach flipped over on itself, so much so that she thought she was going to keel over and collapse right then and there. Was Pearl signaling Eight out?!

Marina pitched in only a second later, “Pearl and I have heard of the rumors, and we thought it would be important to address it. In fact, it's about time I have told you all the truth. I myself am an Octoling.”

Eight’s eyes nearly bulged out from their sockets upon hearing Marina speak. What was happening? Was this really the best way to announce something so personal?

Marina continued, “I was an engineer before I decided to leave that life behind. I met Pearl shortly after disbanding from the Octarians, and I’ve been happy in Inkopolis ever since! Your fellow Octolings are experiencing the same hardships I myself had to go through, so show your support for them.”

Pearl finally chimed in as Marina finished, “Yeah, and you know why you should?” A smile crept on Pearl’s beak, “Because Inkopolis was saved yesterday by an Octoling! Don’t believe me? Just look at this footage!”

Before Eight could even register what had been said, video footage was pulled up on the screen. A blurry figure was in the center of the frame, a bit hard to make out against the shakiness of the camera. After a few moments of awkward shuffling, the camera held steady and zoomed in on the figure. They were decked out in a full black uniform, complete with black heels and with pink tentacles. They were riding an inkrail around a massive white statue, using one arm to steady themself along the rail while using the other to wield a weapon. They expertly placed burst shots to target what looked like massive bombs planting themselves against the statue, which in turn exploded and coated said statue in ink.

Of course, Eight instantly recognized that the figure in the video was herself.

The sight of herself on the screen is what finally forced Eight to look away. Was it out of shame? Embarrassment? Humiliation? She wasn’t sure.

Eight felt like her life was whisking away. All of the effort she had put in over the past weeks, months even, uncovering her memories, completing and failing tests over and over, to finally reaching the surface. It was all leading to this. Seeing herself plastered on the news. She was for sure done for now.

Life in Inkopolis was officially over.

…

Eight’s ears flickered at the sound of the crowds gasping around her.

And… was that a cheer?

Eight was now facing the ground. Her arms had subconsciously crept down and wrapped themselves around her sides when she began to hear the unmistakable sound of clapping. Then more cheers. Then excited stomping. And even more clapping after that.

Baffled, Eight peered up and looked around the Square. The crowds of Inklings and Jellyfish were enchanted from the video footage still playing on the screen. Their eyes were wide, and smiles reached from one end of their cheeks to the other. Many were jumping or pumping their fists into the air. Some were motionless, staring in utter disbelief, beaks practically dropped to the floor.

The sight made Eight almost let out a laugh. She simply didn’t, however. Her body was still in some state of shock, her thoughts racing and faltering at the same time.

Pearl and Marina were right was all she coherently processed.

As if the idols had somehow read her mind, the screen switched back to the studio, the camera once again facing Pearl and Marina.

“See? Octolings just wanna vibe with us here in Inkopolis! So much so, that one went the extra mile and saved all of us! Isn’t that fresh?” Pearl squeaked as she joked, obviously overjoyed to see the public's reaction.

Marina smiled in response, nodding, “Off The Hook wants nothing more than to unite its fans. And knowing our fans, we both are confident to say that from today forward, Inkopolis will change for the better. Right Pearl?”

“Are ya squiddin’, ‘Rina? Of course it will! And it's all thanks to that special Octoling down there in the Square right now! Everyone, say your thanks to Eight! The fearless Octoling that saved us all!”

Right on cue, Eight felt the gaze of everyone around her snap and focus on her. Eight swallowed hard, unable to take in a complete breath of fresh air as the attention was suddenly dropped on her with the weight of an entire building. She didn’t dare return any of their glances. Instead, Eight shifted her weight on her right leg and slightly slouched, gesturing a weak wave to those around her.

Clapping and cheering erupted and polluted the Square like a concoction of Splat Bombs going off.

“OH MY COD, THAT’S HER! THAT’S THE HERO!”

“INKOPOLIS’ SAVIOR!”

“PLEASE SIGN MY FACE!”

Eight would be lying if she said this didn’t make her smile.

Courage finally seeped into Eight’s hearts as the cheering pressed on, encouraging the Octoling to look up at her admirers. All kinds of denizens were beaming at her; Inklings, Jellyfish, Shrimp, Shellfish folk. Their eyes were lit up like subway car lights.

Eight then noticed how quickly she was becoming surrounded. Her courage, as suddenly as it came, retreated back into her subconsciousness like a cowardly sea bunny. Eight’s shoulders rose and her arms defensively glued themselves to her sides.

The crowds were closing in fast, now with only a few feet separating them from Eight. Marina said something else on the broadcast that sparked through the Square's speakers, nearly penetrating the noisy group forming around Eight, but the idol’s words were completely lost to the sea of voices.

Eight herself was losing focus. Her eyes met with several different people, heard their voice, saw them say something; but her mind couldn’t process any of it. Instead, Eight stared wordlessly back.

Seconds passed, and eventually Eight accepted that she simply was not equipped to handle this. She needed to get away as soon as possible. The gears in her mind shifted and churned, eyeing for a way away from the Square like a cornered prey. It was her default.

To escape.

Eight’s breathing picked up and her vision hindered around its edges, solely working to focus on anything but the wandering crowds vastly approaching her. She could sense her pupils dilating as the rest of her senses simply failed her. She just needed to get away from here.

Eight’s feet moved on their own, side stepping and desperately trying to slip past several unsuspecting Inklings. When that didn’t work, Eight retreated and tried the same method on another side of the crowd. Another polite budge wasn’t working.

Eight’s chest tightened. She did not want to use force if it wasn’t necessary.

Then, from out of nowhere, a hand collided with Eight’s shoulder and grasped it. It was firm, sturdy enough to make Eight snap her neck around and recoil. Eight almost formed a fist with her hand and swung to warn the perpetrator that she had plenty of fight left in her after saving the entire city.

When Eight faced whoever it was who grabbed her shoulder, she was met with an Inkling.

The Inkling had bright yellow tentacles that were long and loose, stemming from the top of their brightly colored head down to past their neck. Their eyes were a stunningly bright orange, though there was an oddity to their right iris. Eight’s mind raced as she focused on the stranger in front of her, tilting her head as she struggled to process what exactly she was examining.

Their right iris was foggy, about half of it was a disturbingly (and unhealthy) unnatural turquoise color. The other half was the same range of orange mirrored on their left iris.

The most perplexing feature of this Inkling, however, was their right pupil. It wasn’t dark. Instead, it was cloudy, almost appearing like a smudged camera lens.

Eight reflectively flinched and stepped back. Air caught in her throat, almost questioning if this was all some sort of nightmare.

Undoubtedly, Eight knew exactly who this Inkling was.

Why… Why was their eye like that? What happened to their eye? Was it like that yesterday?

Why was it that color?

“Agent… 3?” Eight’s shaky voice came out like a defeated whisper.

Before Eight could question further, Agent 3 stepped forward and latched their hand on Eight’s wrist, gripped it with restrained force, and began pulling Eight towards them.

Eight did nothing but blink, allowing herself to be yanked away from the center of the crowd.

Chapter Text

Agent 3’s grip was tight around Eight’s wrist, a bit uncomfortably so. But Eight found herself unbothered as the two agents slipped further away from the crowds, brushing past confused Inkopolis citizens. Few cried out to Eight, questioning where she was going, or who she was with. Of course, neither Eight nor Agent 3 answered the muddled strangers. They instead continued to pick up the pace, with Agent 3 taking the lead.

Eight and Agent 3 then rounded a corner and entered a rather clean and well shaded alleyway. There, Agent 3 released Eight’s wrist from their grasp and turned, pulling a cap from their pocket and placing it snugly around their head.

Eight’s mind was still going what felt like super critical, reeling from the adrenaline rush. She leaned against the wall to her right, taking in the moment to catch her breath. Of course, Agent 3 was completely silent. Eight heard them shuffle in front of her, air filling their nose and exerting through their beak. It took several moments for Eight to finally pick her head back up and meet their gaze.

Their stare was immediately apparent. It was distant; alien. It caused Eight to hold in a breath, just long enough to make her feel like she was going to suffocate.

Agent 3’s eyes certainly did not look like that yesterday.

This revelation, this confirmation; Eight’s legs grew weak at the sight. It took everything within her to not blurt out questions.

Agent 3 must have noticed Eight’s distress, because their gaze dropped to the ground, and they quickly faced away in the opposite direction. Their tentacles swayed and obeyed to their sudden head turn, the tips of them littered with scars and several typical Inkling rings.

Eight’s hearts dropped, feeling as though her excessive staring had offended her fellow agent.

Not sure what to do, Eight parted her lips and croaked, “Um… Thank you, Agent 3. And I am sorry, I do not mean to stare.”

Eight forced a smile, well aware that Agent 3 wasn’t going to see it. Still, the notion was there.

This seemed to spark some kind of response in Agent 3, as they huffed out air through their nose. The noise caused Eight to raise her eyebrows, instigating her to take a step forward. The agent in front of her did nothing but stand, the back of their head facing Eight.

Eight was wholly aware of how awkward this entire interaction has been, and she’s only been here in this alleyway for not even two full minutes. She wanted to speak again, to see if Agent 3 would respond to her, but what would they discuss? Was it wrong of her to ask about the eye?

Before Eight could settle on something, anything, Agent 3’s arm raised itself and gestured to her to follow them, beginning to make their way further into the alleyway. Eight obliged, not knowing where else to go at this point. It wasn't like she could go back to the Square and wait for Pearl and Marina to finish up their broadcast.

The two agents traversed through the alleyway until they were met with an opening between two buildings. Agent 3 waved Eight to follow yet again and crossed a street, slowing down enough so Eight wasn’t completely alone on the pavement. Once they both were crossed over safely, Agent 3 led the way once more and marched down the adjacent sidewalk. Eight noticed that the entire time they walked together, Agent 3 had been avoiding looking directly at her.

Eight’s mind once again shifted into overdrive. That rotten color in Agent 3’s eye… specifically their right eye. Their over-saturated pupil looked as if it was consumed by some otherworldly entity and forcibly placed back into its original position. How it looked so unusual that it immediately snapped Eight out of her episode earlier in the crowds.

There was only one possible conclusion Eight could think of; one that would plague her thoughts like an infectious disease.

The goo that had controlled their mind. Perhaps Agent 3 was now experiencing the after effects?

Eight glanced at Agent 3 with concern. They were still in front of her, so she couldn’t get a good view of their face. There was no doubt Agent 3 was experiencing something due to their exposure to the unnatural substance. Pain? Eight sensed that pain was probably the most obvious answer and knitted her eyebrows together.

Eight had encountered that goo constantly down in the Deep Sea Metro. It was everywhere down there; it was primarily the substance she had to clash against during the tests. And it hurt. That particular ‘ink’ stung, feeling more akin to acid. But Eight was only externally affected by it. Agent 3, on the other hand, was literally controlled by it. Eight shuddered at the reminder.

Eight remembered what Cap’n Cuttlefish had said last night, and how odd it occurred to Eight that Agent 3 would just disband from the group gathering during dinner, excluding their demeanor. How he mentioned that they “weren’t feeling good”.

There were so many questions Eight wanted to ask.

A good portion of time passed as both agents walked down more sidewalks, crossed more streets, marched down alleyways, passed by more stores than Eight cared to count. Eight’s mind was far too exerted to latch onto the sights like it did earlier this morning. If she had to be honest, if Agent 3 weren’t here with her right now, she’d stop right where she stood and just collapse onto the ground. Eight wished nothing more than to be back in Marina’s apartment, laying in the guest room bed that she had slept in last night.

That specific thought brought Eight back to the present. Where exactly was she going?

Sunlight caused Eight’s eyes to squint as she scanned her surroundings. Wherever Agent 3 was taking her, it was strangely devoid of life. The lack of people passing by made that fact apparent. Eight wasn’t troubled by it, however. She was grateful Agent 3 had been taking detours.

Not even twenty-four hours in Inkopolis, and she’s run away from crowds not once, but twice now.

How embarrassing.

Eight narrowed her eyes as she then examined her fellow agent marching in front of her, desperate to change her focus onto something else. Agent 3 was still as quiet as ever, shoulders high with tension. They were wearing a loosely fitted black hoodie, with matching black cargo pants. Their hands were planted firmly in the pockets of their pants, keeping uncomfortably still instead of swaying. Their vibrant ink color was mostly obstructed now from their cap fitted on top of their head, the visor sat in a way that it would shield the sun from their eyes.

Or to hide their eyes from Eight, perhaps?

Eight stared for a moment longer, wondering again if she should spark a conversation. What could have possibly changed between this morning and last night? Was this a wound developing around their eye, or just simple scarring? Was… was Agent 3 even aware of what caused this in the first place?

Eight, dissatisfied and frustrated with herself, remained silent as she and Agent 3 continued to walk.

Shortly afterward, Eight and Agent 3 traversed around another corner and came into view of a large, barren plaza. It was complete with a few potted trees, streets with crosswalks, and benches to rest upon. Buildings circled around the entire area, the most notable one being an impressively tall green tower placed in the middle. Off to the right, there was a catwalk that spiraled up to what seemed like an abandoned shop. In fact, as the two agents drew closer, it was clear that most of the buildings in this area looked abandoned, and for some time, too.

Two buildings, on opposite sides of the green tower, had statues resting on the tops of them, and beyond that was an overpass that seemed to have vehicles occupying its concrete veins. There was an elevated railway, too, that seemed to circle around this section of the city.

Intrigued, Eight brushed a stray tentacle away from her eyes as she soaked in the sights. This plaza was such an eyesore, especially paired with the clear blue skies and unrelenting sunshine. It wasn’t crowded like the Square was; this was much more open, much more vivid.

Agent 3 slowed their pace as they positioned themselves under one of the potted trees, finally peering back at Eight. They pulled a hand out from their pocket and beckoned Eight over with a wave, their face shadowed thanks to the visor of their cap.

Eight didn’t hesitate, stepping over towards them and stopping right by their side. The shade provided by the tree was refreshing; Eight failed to notice how warm it's gotten outside since she left Marina’s apartment. Beads of sweat formed upon her forehead, dangerously close to creeping down her temple and cheeks. She swiped an arm lazily over her head as a result, almost a little disgusted from just how much moisture she’d accumulated.

Eight then glanced at Agent 3, feeling suddenly very sympathetic. They were probably practically cooking inside that outfit; not that they seemed to care much at all.

Agent 3 caught Eight’s gaze for a moment and dipped their head down, straightening their posture. They crossed their arms and made an audible noise in their throat, as if clearing it. Eight’s ears twitched, effectively directing all of her concentration to her ally. The sound, as simple as it was, almost caused Eight to stand at attention, as if she was about to report to one of her superiors.

Anticipation was the cause, Eight figured. She felt it brewing and sparring within her chest.

Were they finally going to converse? After all this time? After all of this awkward waiting?

The questions simmered in Eight’s mind for only a moment before a voice, coarse and unmistakably underutilized broke the deafening silence.

“You owe me an explanation.”

Eight’s eyebrows shot upward like an Inkjet.

Undoubtedly, that voice belonged to none other than Agent 3. It was lower than Eight expected, a bit gravely and nasally. Their tone was painfully callous, like their request meant both nothing and everything to them at the same time. It puzzled Eight, triggering the Octoling to tilt her head to the side.

“...Pardon?” Was all she could manage before Agent 3 snapped their head upward and met her widened eyes, their discolored, intense gaze stabbing into her own. Their expression hardened, with their thick eyebrows pointed downward and their beak curling into itself.

A wave of sharpness clawed itself into Eight’s abdomen, feeling herself take a step away. Her breath caught itself, only letting out a small gasp as she blinked at the agent standing beside her. She couldn’t help but recognize fear pooling around in her gut, further and further as Agent 3’s scowl continued to judge her.

There was… something about their eyes now that made Eight want to wilt away. Like she had experienced that particular glare somewhere before.

Thankfully, Agent 3, evidently perceptive, softened their features almost immediately. They dropped their head again and brought a hand to the back of their neck, huffing out a sigh through their nose.

“Sorry.” Their voice appeared again, this time faint. They brought their hand back down their torso and stuffed it into their pocket, “I’m not good at this.” Another brief pause, “Talking. I mean.”

Agent 3 then kicked a pebble at the ground, to which Eight reflexively watched it skip across the black concrete not too far away from where the two of them stood. Eight stared at the pebble until it was motionless and facing the skies above.

Eight then refocused her attention back towards the other agent, relief causing her shoulders to relax and droop downward. She drew in a breath and struggled to think of the correct words, brain still scrambled.

“No, no, it is okay.” Eight did her best to sound reassuring. Her hand subconsciously swayed up and waved a gesture, “I am not good at it, too.”

Agent 3 must have sensed Eight’s hesitation, because they shot another glance at her, though this one significantly less hostile than the last. Eight broke into a forced grin as they did this, causing them to simply blink at her.

It was fascinating; Agent 3 seemed so detached now. Their currently lax eyes were contradictory to the expression they had adorned only seconds before, a grimace that had spiked Eight’s anxiety almost as much as the crowds before had done to her earlier. Eight wondered if they were always this fickle, or if it was a possible side effect of the goo?

Eight then glanced away, realizing that she had been staring at them while they were waiting patiently for her to speak. She reflected back on their request. An explanation? What did they mean by that?

Eight bit at her tongue, rubbing a hand over her arm as she opened her beak, “Uh… explanation? For… for what?”

Eight almost didn’t want to see what Agent 3’s expression had formed into this time as she spoke. To her relief, though, they only seemed to deflate in their stature.

“My eye.” Agent 3 plainly stated, subtly lifting their head. They raised their hand again and pointed at their right eye, specifically, and continued, “Cap’n didn’t tell me what happened after I got knocked out.”

Eight’s strength dissipated as Agent 3 verbalized their own inability to recall what had happened. She shut her eyes tight, and again wished to be back in Marina’s apartment. As exciting as it was to be here conversing with Agent 3, Eight would much rather avoid the topic of their time in the Metro together as much as possible, if at all.

When Eight found it in her to reopen her eyes, she was greeted with Agent 3’s stern, yet concerned gaze. Their eyes, the bright oranges contrasting against the diseased turquoise blues was a sight to behold, to put it lightly. As unsettling as it was and probably always will be, Eight couldn’t help but find it increasingly captivating.

Eight breathed in a heavy sigh, frowning as she once again searched for the right words. Her eyes parted from Agent 3’s as she scanned the bark of the potted tree standing tall beside the two agents, admiring its unique patterns and watching as tiny insects crawled up and down its body.

“...Was it that bad?” Agent 3 then asked, impatience edging close in their words, though their tone remained neutral.

Eight met Agent 3’s gaze once more. Their eyes narrowed in response; suspicion, Eight guessed.

“...It was bad.” Eight confirmed, nodding lightly as she leaned her weight onto her right leg. She could sense one of her tentacles beginning to twitch.

Agent 3’s expression hardened again at the news, though they didn’t dare direct it at Eight. Instead, they peered over their shoulder and stared off in the distance.

“What happened?” Agent 3 breathed out, their voice threatening to shake, though whether out of panic or anger, Eight wasn’t sure.

Eight’s stomach dipped hearing Agent 3’s slight distress, causing guilt to surface and climb up to her throat. Agent 3 really had no idea…? What would she tell them? That they almost ended her life right after saving it, as if that would magically make them feel any better?

Eight’s persisting silence did not go unnoticed, as it prompted Agent 3 to glance at her once more. Their eyes were almost pleading now, searching Eight’s eyes and face for an answer, anything at all. Eight felt awful, aware that the news would surely cause them far more distress. But Agent 3 was her hero, and they deserved the truth.

“You saved me. Then you and the Cap’n were… erm.” Eight started, furrowing her brow as she tried to think of the translated words. Eight’s rather thick accent caused Agent 3’s ear to flick as she spoke, “Capture. You were taken. Forced to fight me. Had ink control you.”

As the Octoling finished speaking, Agent 3 slowly turned to face her again, their expression bleak. It was a mixture of pure turmoil, confusion, and revelation. They looked so serious. Eight waited, assuming that they would ask questions. Nothing escaped their lips. Instead, they flicked their eyes between her and the ground, deep and lost in their thoughts.

After several moments of silence, Agent 3 raised an arm and brushed their hand onto the right side of their head. They stood there like that for another second, closing their eyes and frowning as if they were experiencing discomfort.

“That explains the headaches.” Agent 3 sighed, speaking mostly to themself.

That sparked Eight’s curiosity, though she decided to not ask questions just yet.

Agent 3 was taking the news… surprisingly well, Eight noticed, despite their apparent physical ailment. But even if that were true, Eight couldn’t help but still feel concerned. Would Agent 3’s condition worsen overtime because of such an extreme exposure to the toxic ink?

Perhaps this wasn’t the time to think about that.

Eight hummed a response, taking a step closer to her fellow agent. Agent 3 slightly winced at this, their hand stuffing itself back into their cargo pocket at an alarming rate. They peered over at her again, contorting their face into a leer.

“Oh, I am sorry.” Eight quickly apologized, faltering in her step and retreating to where she stood a moment before. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure why she stepped forward.

“It’s cool.” Agent 3 brushed it off quickly, their head whipping around and their tentacles swaying with the movement. They exhaled hard through their nose, “So. You really saved Inkopolis?”

The question caused Eight to perk upward.

“Uh… um.” Eight fumbled with her words, letting out a nervous laugh, “Yes. That was me.”

Eight felt her cheeks warm with pride, remembering her accomplishments. She had been so caught up worrying about Agent 3 that the event of her recognition in the Square minutes earlier had been real, and not some daydream. Even as overwhelming, and maybe even a little traumatic, as the event was, at least it was done and over with now.

Eight reached up and fidgeted with her tentacle again, sneaking another glance at the agent standing beside her.

Agent 3 then did something foreign. More foreign than the strangers in the Square, more foreign than the scarring in their eyes, or the smudged appearance of their right pupil.

They angled their head and faced her. Their lips lifted ever so slightly, motioning the existence of the world’s tiniest smile, and opened their mouth.

“Fresh.” Agent 3 simply stated.

Eight immediately smiled back. A complete, genuine smile invited itself upon her face, giddy from such a basic compliment. Basic, yes, but it meant a lot.

Maybe life in Inkopolis wasn’t officially over, after all.

Chapter Text

The morning sunshine was marginally brighter now. A gradual, dying breeze brushed past the potted tree besides Eight, taking with it a few stray leaves that ultimately dropped to the ground. Sounds of distant vehicles traveling along the overpass off in the distance almost made the stillness between the agents palpable. Almost.

Eight couldn’t help but grow restless in the few minutes of silence since Agent 3 last said anything. She was practically itching to start another conversation. Agent 3 wasn’t exactly the most friendly Inkling as far as she could tell, but they also weren’t outright antagonistic. Not intentionally, anyway. It was a strange balance, one that Eight would need time to grow accustomed to.

Maybe Eight’s mind was far too fried from that mess back in the Square to think clearly, to determine whether or not Agent 3 was really worth knowing. Or was all this overthinking present plainly because she admired Agent 3, and wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt?

Eight swallowed hard as she gripped her jacket’s collar, a wave of impulsiveness forcing her to lean to the side. Words juggled within her mind like a collage of burst bombs. Before she could stop it, her lips split and her own voice spilled out.

“Thank you.” Eight’s words were small, nearly inaudible. She dropped her eyebrows and subconsciously cursed at herself for being so antsy. For a moment, and for whatever reason, she felt the need to repeat herself, fearing that Agent 3 had not initially heard her.

But Agent 3 proved her wrong, as they turned their head and placed their full attention towards her, brows slightly raised. Their expression requested further elaboration, questioning what Eight had meant.

Eight felt silly; there were plenty of things she wished to thank Agent 3 for, though some wouldn’t make sense to share now. Again, Eight insulted herself within her own thoughts.

Instead of blurting out a million responses, Eight contemplated for a moment and continued, “Thank you for helping me. The Square was… overwhelming.” Eight clarified, letting her hand drop away from the collar of her jacket.

Agent 3 stared for a second before dipping their head down, a gesture of confirmation and understanding.

They remained quiet for another brief moment, leaning their head back and drawing their hands out from their pockets. It wasn’t until a moment later they returned their gaze towards Eight, brows still arched, “What happened back there, anyway?”

Eight’s tentacles curled reflectively upon hearing the question, tension barging its way into her chest.

“I was recorded and shown on the news.” Eight flatly stated, slightly cringing at her own heavy accent.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Agent 3 replied dryly, their eyelids weighing downward. They continued, their voice getting low and their tone clearly irked, “Your team shouldn’t have done that.”

Eight agreed to this, peering down at the ground out of embarrassment. No doubt, Agent 3 was right about that. Pearl and Marina were going to have to pull some serious strings to fix whatever mess they’ve created for Eight.

The word ‘team’, though, caused Eight to think to herself for a moment. It was an appropriate way to address Marina and Pearl, at least from Agent 3’s perspective, but Eight knew they were more to her than just a team. Disregarding that, Eight nodded.

“Yes. It was a bad idea on their part.” Eight admitted, an unenthusiastic chuckle escaping her lips.

Agent 3 opened their beak to say something else, but they frowned, and only silence was what followed. They snapped their eyes away and instead diverted their attention out towards the plaza.

Eight narrowed her gaze and followed Agent 3’s line of sight, scanning the empty area that surrounded both of them. It was unchanged; still massive and barren. Fliers with advertisements plastered all over in black, thick ink danced around in the empty streets. Empty cans were littered across the sidewalks. Feathers from birds and leaves dropped down from overhead and were then nudged gently by the wind, skipping across the concrete.

“This is Inkopolis Plaza, by the way.” Agent 3 muttered. Their voice grew softer as they sighed and proceeded to speak, “It used to be a hotspot. It’s where I used to Turf.”

Eight glanced to her side to see Agent 3 pointing at the green tower planted in the middle, motioning towards the entrance.

“And I used to buy my clothes and equipment in those stores.” Agent 3 continued and waved their pointed hand across the various abandoned buildings circling the plaza. A low rumble crawled its way out from their throat as they pointed at an empty spot rested upon one of the building’s walls, resembling something of a growl, “And that’s where the Squid Sisters would announce the stages and perform. The screen’s gone now, though.”

Eight’s eyes grew to the size of suction bombs, and excitement surged through her body. She had no idea she was currently standing in such a historical location. Turf Wars, clothing shops, and the Squid Sisters? All in one location?

That all seemed far too good to be true.

“The Squid Sisters..? ” Eight breathed out in a dreamy sigh, prompting Agent 3 to shoot her a very perplexed glance. Eight reacted quickly and defensively gestured her hands up, “Ah, sorry! They are… important to me. Their music.”

Agent 3 did nothing but stare at her for a full second before simply lowering their eyes and nodding, as if the answer had been obvious.

“They have that effect on people.” Agent 3 responded with the slightest bit of venom in their tone.

Eight’s brow raised, and for a moment as she wondered what they meant by that. Of course, it didn’t take long for her to understand. Eight huffed out an amused breath as she recalled her memories, registering Agent 3’s reference.

Of course, remembering their music also recalled Agent 3’s actions. Of course.

“Yes.” Eight confirmed, feeling somewhat validated to know Agent 3 was seemingly aware of their impact on her life. Seizing the opportunity to thank the other agent further, Eight smirked, “Thank you for that, too.”

That seemed to press Agent 3 more than it did previously. Eight immediately noticed how their posture straightened by the slightest inch after she finished speaking, like the words were new and unheard of. They glimpsed at Eight once more, their overtly peculiar eyes squinting and lowering with hesitation, like a storm was beginning to rage in their thoughts.

The sight caused Eight to drop her smile.

“Is something the wrong?” Eight blurted out, her rounded ears twitching at the sound of her own voice.

Agent 3 seemed to pout as Eight asked the question, lowering their head to allow the visor on their cap to hide their eyes from where she stood.

“No.” Agent 3 began, placing a hand onto one of their scarred tentacles. They fidgeted with the ends of it before letting go and allowing it to flop against their shoulder, “Just not used to hearing that.”

Eight tilted her head at their response, barely refraining herself from questioning what they meant.

Agent 3 must’ve sensed her curiosity, though, as they shifted focus and spoke again. “Nice moves back there, by the way.” The Inkling stated, their gaze still well away from Eight’s, “Saving the world in the video, I mean. I didn’t get to see any of that. Was too busy being unconscious.”

Eight instantly perked up as a grin returned to her face, choosing to ignore her ally’s statement from before. Instead, Eight fixated on Agent 3’s acknowledgement, her hands propping up against her chest.

“You watched?” Eight urged, eagerness apparent in her tone. It was a dumb question, yes, but the idea of Agent 3 observing the recording of her was invigorating.

Agent 3’s ear jerked as Eight’s volume heightened, their head turning slightly. They emitted another sound of affirmation before glancing up at Eight again. “Mhm. Not bad.”

That was all Eight needed to hear to regain that bubbly feeling in her core, reminding her that she was worthy of praise and recognition.

Eight chirped happily to herself, a smile still decorating her face. It was hard to suppress her pride, especially when Agent 3 of all people were expressing their approval. Eight felt one of her tentacles curl with delight as she rubbed one of her hands along her arm.

“Thank you.” Eight merrily replied and bowed her head at her fellow agent, prompting them to blankly stare at her in return. “Again.”

As Eight anchored herself back up, the two agents exchanged a brief look, and Eight caught another good glimpse of Agent 3’s eyes. The darkened portion of their right iris lingered like a stain, signifying that it wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Their pupil was the same, too. It was still cloudy and unnaturally shiny; it almost looked reflective, reminiscent of Agent 3’s own vest Eight had seen them wearing down in the Metro.

A jolt of energy ascended Eight’s back and met the base of her neck. It was difficult to deduce what the feeling was accurately, but Eight figured it wasn’t a positive one. Her smile faded as her eyes instinctively parted from Agent 3’s.

Was this guilt she was feeling? Fear? Or a complex mixture of both?

“...Does it really look that bad?”

Eight tensed as she heard Agent 3 speak again. Their voice had notably dropped, words achingly drawn out like they had suddenly suffered from an injury. It forced Eight to blink and reluctantly drive her gaze back to the other agent.

Eight didn’t know what to say. How could she, to a question like that? She didn’t even know the complete answer herself.

Agent 3’s eyes did, in fact, look bad. Their iris looked infected, torn between two contrasting colors like the insides of their eyes were battlefields. And of course, the reflective pupil didn’t help their case.

“N-No! It look fine!” Eight blatantly lied, reclining into herself as she spoke.

Agent 3’s thick brows dropped in response, fast and calculated. Eight immediately gulped, anxiety prodding at her core.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Agent 3 hissed, though Eight could tell they were holding back on their delivery. They squinted at her, an act of accusation, silently demanding the truth.

Eight slightly panicked. What could she possibly say that will make them feel better? Continue to lie? Clearly being dishonest with Agent 3 wasn’t ideal, Eight knew that. She was smarter than that, and apparently so was Agent 3.

Eight shoulders slumped as she drew in a breath of air and subconsciously stared at the emptied buildings standing around her, as if she’d magically find the answers she searched for. The plaza was deafeningly silent now, so much so that it made Eight’s ears begin to ring.

Why was this so hard to admit? She had already told them how they got it. So why was she so hesitant to tell them how it looked? Because of the memory it carried?

That thought in particular did not settle well. It was a selfish thought, but it was the only reasonable conclusion Eight could make.

“...Your eyes do not look fine. Unhealthy.” Eight finally confessed and exhaled heavily through her beak, her hands rising up and fidgeting with themselves. She continued, “It is upsetting to me.”

Eight couldn’t bring herself to peer over at her ally to see their reaction, suspecting that they were probably not happy about the news. She didn’t want to see that glare of theirs again, especially not after this.

Agent 3 was silent for a moment, eventually huffing out a sharp breath. Eight then heard them shift besides her.

“...Ominous. Cool.” Agent 3’s tone grew undeniably flat, now sounding completely detached.

Eight frowned to herself, her mouth clenching from hearing the other agent’s response. Was her honest answer not enough?

Before Eight could even think about forging a reply, a loud, highly pitched chiptune melody began to echo throughout the plaza. Eight and Agent 3 both flinched from the sudden noise, the latter audibly grunting as they leaned to their side and dove their hand through their back pocket. A moment later, Agent 3 fished out a mobile device, revealing the source of the abrupt music.

Eight immediately recognized that the model Agent 3 held was a bit outdated, certainly older than either Pearl’s or Marina’s. The phone case was thick, though, with some impressive casing that protected it from the elements. The screen wasn’t cracked, so Eight figured the case was doing its job well.

The phone rang further as Agent 3 leaned and angled the screen up to their face, the chiptune ringtone still blaring. It was energetic and catchy, as simplistic as it seemed. Eight almost wanted to tap her foot to the beat, but ultimately decided against it as she watched Agent 3’s expression darken.

Without wasting another moment, Agent 3 pressed their digit against the screen and raised the phone to their pointed ear, suddenly standing stiffly as if they were at attention.

“Cap’n.”

Eight recoiled from hearing the title come out of the agent’s mouth. Of course, the only person with that title was the one and only… Cap’n Cuttlefish.

Eight didn’t have a choice but to listen in on the conversation. She could barely hear the Cap’n on the other end of the call, his voice interrupted briefly by static.

“Mornin’ Agent 3! Ya d-oin’ bet-er today?”

“...I’m fine, sir.” Agent 3 seemed to hesitate as they spoke. They leaned to the side for a second before catching Eight’s gaze, to which they sharply turned away.

Eight almost felt offended from the gesture, but she knew better than to feel personally attacked.

Agent 3 wasn’t fine, afterall. But the Cap’n didn’t know that. Not yet.

“Do ya think you could st--p by the Cabin real q--ck? Need to talk to ya ---ut somethin’ important.”

“I can do that.” Agent 3 hoarsely replied, unbothered by the static.

“Oh, and b--ring the newbie, too! Are ya with ‘er?”

Agent 3 subtly winced at the mention of Eight, peering over at her. Eight tilted her head to the side in response, curious as to what she would be needed for. In that brief moment, though, Eight could recognize the dread pooling inside Agent 3’s eyes. Eight blinked back at her fellow agent, which caused them to whip their head away and face the plaza.

“...Yes. She’s present.” The Inkling reported into the cellular device, their voice clearer now than before.

“Great! Now g--t over here, pronto, squiddo! Me ‘n the ot--r agents will be waitin’!”

Agent 3 didn’t have a proper response to that, instead opting to end the call just after the Cap’n stopped speaking. They stood for a moment, sighing to themself before turning and facing Eight again, their visor shielding their eyes just like before. They skillfully rotated the mobile device within their hand and leaned to place it back into their pocket.

“...Follow me.” Reluctantly, Agent 3 began to retrace the steps they took earlier, directing Eight away from the safety of the desolate area, “It’s not far.”

Eight figured taking a break from the city was probably a good move, even if it meant traveling to wherever the ‘Cabin’ was. But if Agent 3 and Cap’n Cuttlefish were both familiar with it, then it was safe. She had no real reason to worry about this.

Still, even as Eight began to wordlessly follow Agent 3’s lead, she couldn’t help but grow concerned.

Chapter Text

Leading the way just as they had done before, Agent 3 marched ahead with Eight close behind. Eight watched intently as they paced around corners, crossed painted concrete paths, and slid away from nearing populated areas like it was second nature to them. It was more obvious now how well Agent 3 knew their way around this part of the city. Eight was, of course, impressed, but not entirely surprised.

Much of the sights were already familiar to Eight at this point. Buildings, shops, vehicles parked orderly in the streets; though, it was all still fascinating to her.

Agent 3 amped up their speed at some point, forcing Eight to do the same, the soreness in her legs threatening to come back in full swing if she wasn’t careful in her step. She didn’t particularly mind, though. There was no sense in keeping Cap’n Cuttlefish waiting.

Eventually, Eight followed Agent 3 into an alleyway between two vacant looking office complexes, the cracked walls visibly showing their age. Above the two buildings was an overpass, similar to the one back in the Plaza. It acted as a shield against the sun, blanketing the alleyway in cool and much needed shade.

It wasn’t long before the alleyway opened into a clearing as Eight followed Agent 3 behind the buildings. From the shape and material of the infrastructure, the clearing appeared to be a now unused (or rather, damaged) drainage canal, its days of operation now long gone. Its walls were covered in old grime, heavy with implications on what could’ve caused it. Other parts were painted with graffiti, signifying that even this desolate part of the city hadn’t gone unnoticed.

As the two agents stepped closer, Eight noticed the elevation abruptly dropping at a certain point. The lack of handrails caused Eight to perk her brow. Perhaps they were removed from this location and recycled for a newer place of operation? Even if that were true, the lack of handrails here was still dangerous.

Agent 3 halted just by the ledge, peering down into the concrete bowl beneath them. Eight did the same.

“Down?” Eight asked hesitantly, her tentacles dangling as she leaned to inspect the area further.

Agent 3 didn’t respond. Instead, their hand gestured for her to follow just as they crouched and jumped into the canal.

Eight pouted as she then ducked, shifting her legs over and off the ledge, and carefully pushed her weight off the top. With a huff, Eight caught her bearing and gracefully landed into a stance, now standing within the worn down canal.

The two agents have only been walking for a maximum of ten minutes, yet Eight found herself sweating again from the exercise. Not to mention the morning heat was becoming increasingly unbearable. As a result, Eight took the moment to remove the jacket Marina provided her, opting to tie it around her waist. She then patted herself down and fixed her shirt, now satisfied that she didn’t feel as overheated.

Agent 3 didn’t stop to wait for Eight, leaving the Octoling several steps behind. Eight immediately increased her pace and caught up with them only seconds later, now stepping in sync besides them.

Eight seized the opportunity to silently analyze the canal’s infrastructure. The cracks and disrepair on the colorless ground forced her to scan the walls to her right. Several glyphs of graffiti were sporadically painted over the rugged surfaces, captivating her with their intricate and vibrant color choices. When she peered over to the opposite wall, though, she caught Agent 3’s peculiar gaze already staring back.

This didn’t last long, however. Agent 3 immediately jerked their head away, their long tentacles quickly obeying the movement.

Eight’s brow raised at their action, though she didn’t dare voice any concern. Instead, Eight faced the wall nearest to her again and scanned her eyes across the slashes of graffiti planted onto it.

The two agents then approached an open cut into the concrete surfaces to Agent 3’s left, an opening that revealed a rusty pipe jutting out from the metallic surface built into the middle of the walls. Agent 3 began to step closer towards the pipe, prompting Eight to do the same.

Agent 3 stopped just beside the pipe, glancing over at Eight as she eyed the object with confusion.

“Shortcut.” Agent 3’s tenuous voice climbed out from their beak. They pointed a finger at the metallic figure, “It’s gonna be a little uncomfortable… but it works.”

Eight skeptically inspected the pipe, her brows dipping down as her view swapped between it and Agent 3.

“The… hm.” Eight raised a hand and placed it on her chin as she failed to recall the translated word for ‘rust’ in her native tongue. Instead, she blinked and looked at Agent 3 again, “Substance. It is not healthy, yes?”

Agent 3 went silent again and deadpanned at Eight, though the slight twitch of their thick eyebrows communicated enough for Eight to assume that they were puzzled with her statement.

Eight simply pointed her own finger at the apparent rust coating the pipes surface.

“This substance. Not good.”

This time, Agent 3 seemed to understand.

“The rust?” They leaned forward, expression softening by the slightest bit, “It won’t do anything.”

Eight didn’t respond, watching as Agent 3 continued to move and place themselves in front of the pipe’s metal grating. The agent then shifted into their swim form with a comically audible plop. Eight was taken aback from how quickly they squeezed through the grate in this form, and with such cursory.

The scene was a little ridiculous to witness, Eight realized, though again, she chose to not verbalize her thoughts.

A brief second later, Agent 3 spoke again.

“Come on.”

Eight drew in a breath and mirrored Agent 3’s movement, placing herself in front of the metal grating. She transformed into her own swim form and wiggled through the grating with ease, surprised with her own effort.

Eight refocused and peered down the pipe. It was… dark. The walls were somewhat reflective, being made of unpolished and corroded metal. She allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness for a moment, using her tentacles to feel the layout of the pipe.

Agent 3 wasn’t kidding. This was very uncomfortable.

And … cramped.

Eight could sense a ball of anxiety climbing up from her throat. Her eyes squinted, then relaxed, then squinted again, fearing that the darkness beginning to swallow her would reach out and strike her. Not to mention the stuffiness of the pipe, and how rough the walls felt against her tentacles.

But then the sound of Agent 3 grunting in pain caught her attention.

“ Are you injured? ” Eight sputtered out from her oncoming daze, her eyes desperately trying to identify the figure in front of her. She didn’t even register that she had spoken in Octarian until a full second afterward, quickly feeling embarrassed.

“...I’m okay.” Agent 3 weakly groaned, their voice echoing throughout the metallic walls, “Watch out for sharp inclines.”

Eight paused and blinked at the other agent’s response, utterly shocked that they had understood what she asked. Something sparked within the Octoling’s core that vanquished her initial embarrassment, now replacing it with something akin to amusement. Eight couldn’t help but sense a grin forming, even if she was currently in her swim form.

Again, the Inkling continued to do nothing but impress her.

Eight took a mental note of Agent 3’s apparent Octarian knowledge and stored it for later, now refocusing. She readjusted herself, sprawling out her swim form as much as she could to probe her new environment. The darkness certainly wasn’t helping with her situation, but as long as Agent 3 was here with her, Eight figured everything would turn out fine. That particular thought seemed to give her the determination she needed, as Eight finally found the strength to push forward and deeper into the pipeline.

Moments passed before Eight slipped past a jagged piece of metal, sucking in through her beak from the unpleasant feeling. That must have been the incline Agent 3 had warned her about. It jabbed at one of her tentacles, though thankfully not deep enough to break skin. Frustrated, Eight maneuvered past the incline without further injury, using her appendages to traverse the environment.

Another minute passed before Agent 3 spoke again.

“Watch out. There’s a drop here.”

Eight stopped as she then heard the sound of Agent 3 noisily slipping further away, the volume amplified by the metallic walls surrounding her. It went on for a few seconds, but eventually, Agent 3’s pace seemed to slow again.

Sighing to herself, Eight pressed forward, her tentacles cautiously feeling for the drop her fellow agent warned her about. It wasn’t long before she noticed the sudden dip in the pipeline, confirming its presence. With a firm huff, Eight inched herself down and allowed herself to be propelled by the incline, her swim form tense and ready to brace for any kind of impact.

Thankfully, no impact came. Instead, Eight simply slid until the momentum died.

Eight couldn’t hold back the giggle that bubbled out from her lips, finding the moment entertaining. A part of her wanted to do it again. The thought was quickly disregarded, however, when Eight spotted lights ahead of her. Relief spilled from her core like a malfunctioning ink sac.

The Octoling could make out Agent 3’s silhouette approaching the lights, eventually reaching a grate and pushing through, popping out of the pipeline and into the light. From where Eight was, she could see them brush themself down for a moment before leaning and peering into the pipe, their hat slightly crooked and their tentacles dropping from their head.

Eight, feeling obligated to do something, shuffled with her tentacles and squirmed her way towards the grate, exiting the pipe in a timely fashion.

“I am sorry.” Eight unintentionally mumbled out her words as she reverted back into her normal form and patted down her outfit, scanning for any sign of dirt or grime that might have latched onto it, “I am being slow, yes?”

Eight then noticed where she was and reflexively tensed. Instead of seeing daylight or streets, the two were now inside of some sort of complex underground. The lights she had seen moments before were only standard heavy duty floodlights. The walls were decayed and spotted with stains, and there were pillars strategically placed within the middle of the complex. The floor beneath her was rusted metal grating, and below it was nothing but a dark, concrete hole.

“No.” Agent 3 replied, raising an arm to fix their cap, “It’s fine. Let’s-..”

“Where are we?” Eight blurted out, startling herself with her suddenly increased volume.

Even Agent 3 seemed slightly rattled from her reaction, their pointed ears flicking in response.

“This is just a part of the drainage system.” The Inkling’s voice lowered as they gave Eight a precarious glance, though softer than she had seen them do before. They leaned to the side and pointed at another pipe across the room, “We need to go through there next.”

Agent 3’s response wasn’t exactly comforting, but it would suffice. Eight nodded as she sensed her tentacles slowly curling into themselves.

The two agents wasted no time and approached the second pipeline, both entering it without any trouble. Well, physically, anyway. Eight was still battling the uneasiness simmering within her chest as she transformed into her swim form and passed through the grating.

It was a shame. To think; after everything she had gone through, Inkopolis’ hero was afraid of a silly old drainage system. The reasoning? Because it was underground.

Eight clenched her beak at the thought as she settled into the new pipeline.

The surface of the pipe was the same as the one before, though it was far more spacious and sturdy. It also seemed to be at a fixed angle, almost sending both Eight and Agent 3 downward as soon as they entered. For a moment, Eight debated on asking whether or not they should travel by sliding down again, though movement ahead of her answered her question.

In the darkness, Eight could barely make out Agent 3’s swim form beginning a rapid descent, leaving her alone by the pipeline’s entrance. Eight didn’t hesitate to follow. Immediately, the Octoling flung herself further into the pipeline, using her tentacles to create more momentum as she began sliding down. It didn’t take long for her speed to reach an optimal rate, feeling the surface of the pipe brushing past her.

Eight’s speed quickly amped up beyond what she intended. Whatever she was feeling back in the underground complex was now quickly fleeting, replaced with something far better; excitement. Scraps of her already exhausted adrenaline returned as Eight continued to dive into the darkness. Her hearts began to beat, thunderous and echoing within her ears (within her swim form, at least) as her speed then did its best to steady, though she was still incredibly fast.

This went on for quite some time. Eight didn’t bother keeping track of the time.