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Atlas wakes up.
He’s standing on a platform, his senses much sharper than they were before he ended up... wherever he is now.
His head hurts.
The Inkling’s body begins to walk on its own, without any input from Atlas himself. He’s holding a pair of Splat Dualies, stalking towards an Octoling.
Hello? Is what he wants to say, but instead what comes out is a digital and compressed sounding voice that doesn’t feel like it belongs to him. “Target acquired.”
“Destroy.”
Atlas can’t even control his body as he rushes forward, wishing he could just shut his eyes before the inevitable happens.