Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

10,008 minus 150…  

Stations flew by in an instant.

Nine thousand… nine hundred…

No, no the math is all wrong…

The doors in front of him scratched themselves open, revealing merely a glimpse of cracked concrete, leaky tiles, and rusted metal. 

No person boarded, leaving him alone to calculate in complete silence.

Start with 50 minus 8.

At best, it was familiar. Even way back when, the denizens were rarely ones for chatter. Most could communicate with simple bioluminescence, so making noise was something that was rarely ever done. And even for those, like himself, that couldn't glow, it wasn't often many struck up a conversation. 

Thirty—no—forty

But at worst? The silence pooled between the joints of his carapace, snaking its way through his body, entangling him in the metallic and mechanical noise which rattled through the cars.

He longed deeply for the days where he people would just exist on the train. The life each and every one of them brought, and the way the world around them would dye itself to their whims.

The young squire was like that. Coloring the tides around them with such ease.

Perhaps that's why he took a liking towards the young squire. Their silence painted every crack of the walls, filled every rivet with poetry, and every movement with song. Somehow, without ever speaking once, they changed the very world around him.

It was truly a work of art. The way the hues they left would stain his vision for years after, how every melody persisted longer than the words they contained.

Maybe that was just the nature of words, after all. Fickle and fleeting. One second, they were being cried out, but one later they'd vanish into thin air, leaving only the memories of their impressions.

But tragically, the same principle would apply to names as well. Names would always be forgotten. Each one constantly being washed from by the tides of time, where the rocking of the waves would lull them down, deeper and deeper until the water surrounding them darkened to that of midnight.

So many names were lost down here.

His own among them. Long sunken into deep trenches that not even the faintest beams of light could grace. There with the other 10,007 names that were lost. 

Well… at least not all of them. 

His own moniker, Iso Padre, stayed with him. Although he knew it wasn’t his “name” per se, it was more than enough for him. The name was always accompanied by the ancient memory of a young child, gladly walking up to him as if he were their own father.

He made an effort to remember their name in return. It proved simple enough. The child seemed to be a regular along the lines. Every day, they’d amble onto the train, and choose the exact same seat by him. And every day, Iso Padre would talk to them, and entertain whatever wild thoughts they had.

But they always seemed lonely. Their eyes were hazy and downturned, playing with the hems of their clothes, and covering their ears whenever there was a particularly loud screech along the tracks. 

Perhaps they just need a friend with them. Iso Padre thought. And so, he took it upon himself to make one for them.

For as long as the stations were visited, he’d spend every day meticulously checking every stitch and seam, making sure it fit the musical personality of the child he knew so well. A giant pacific octopus. It was by far one of his toughest projects.

It was made up of soft raspberry fabric which he had saved, and was large enough that when he sewed it, he needed to hold it with all six arms.

They’d check in every day, boarding just to sit by him and quietly watch him sew. Humming a melody they made up themself.

Iso Padre could remember the day he finished it exactly. The rush he felt when embroidering their name just so it could be done before their stop. 

But the doors were empty when the train arrived.

He waited the entire day.

Then entire weeks.

And soon enough, entire months.

Years later, and their name was nothing but a mirage. A faint wisp of those who used to be. 

Then one after another. As one left, perhaps ten more would take their place. Each name, stitched into an ever-growing collection of stuffed toys. 

He couldn’t even fit them all in his attaché care anymore.

Nine thousand, eight hundred, fifty eight.

That's the amount of people he's watched board the train. Nine thousand, eight hundred, and fifty eight. 

He never even learned a fraction of their names.

Young squire… Young bard… Young children… you all left too soon…

He felt his breathing hiccupped, and his head collapsed into his hands. 

It’s been far, far too long. 

Exhaustion sunk deep into the joints, encrusting each and every muscle until he felt his entire body crystalize with lethargy.

The doors in front of him slid shut after a moment, and the train car was left just as empty as before. 

He sighed, taking off his glasses to polish them as the train whizzed past the barren concrete walls, crumbling just a bit more with every pass. But he could barely even put forth the effort to pull out the handkerchief from his pocket. Instead, he let the glasses sit by his side, and wait for the inevitable dust to collect on them as well.

But then the doors in front of him opened again.

And six years of silence broke in an instant.

A wayfarer, ambling into the train car, with a small companion by her side.

Nine thousand, eight hundred, fifty nine.

Chapter Text

chippy chirps -  1:17 PM

CLASH_BLASTER > ayo harm when do u think youll land

CLASH_BLASTER > we were thinkin of catching some grub soon

Sid > What did you have in mind?

CLASH_BLASTER > crusty seans duh

δ.orionis > noiji i am so sorry.

δ.orionis > crust bucket closed

CLASH_BLASTER > SAY SIKE RN

δ.orionis > i am so sorry bro

CLASH_BLASTER > WTFFFFF

CLASH_BLASTER > I WAS LOOKING FORWWARD TO SOME SPICY TEMPURRAAAA

CLASH_BLASTER > D:

δ.orionis > i know buddy

Sid > I’ll work on finding some restaurants then.

Sid > Update us on when you land, Harm.

With a small snap, Harmony’s phone folded back up, and she set it back on her crowded lap. Different objects were strewn about; her old DS on her knee, a half eaten bag of chips leaning on her side, her fish, who was nestled into a bandana, and now her phone. All of which laid on top of her weighted blanket. Perhaps the only thing getting her through this wreck of a train ride.

She’d respond later. The entire ordeal was already delayed once from a dust storm on the Splatlandian end of Hammerhead Bridge. The 10:30 am ride ended up being pushed back to 12:45.

At least now she was actually on the train, watching out the window as the cyan waves passed, blurring together against the pallid afternoon sky. If she focused on one spot, she could begin to see the individual pushes of the tide, before it reared back against itself once again.

Harmony was alerted by a buzz from her phone, and she begrudgingly flipped it open again.

chippy chirps - 1:20 PM

Sid > Oh, Harmony, by the way, have you thought about bringing a plus one to the con at all? We haven’t registered many free tickets that Off-Beat Inkopolis offered us.

She hadn’t really thought of it. A friend from work perhaps? Maybe Barry would appreciate it, if he wasn’t already out on his indefinite vacation that is. How about Gnarly Eddy? Sure, the two rarely talked, but hanging out in someone’s place of work for an extended period of time is surely a way to become someone's friend.

Wait… I already left the Splatlands. He’d need to get another train when the con starts… Well, that’s not for a while though… Maybe it’d work out?

Well, what about one’s closer to home? The friends she’s made in Inkadia?

I don’t have a lot of those. Whenever she tried to think about it, usually Clash, Sid, or Orion came up, and those guys already had tickets to the convention anyway. Maybe someone from Squid Squad? They weren’t exactly close but they might appreciate it…

Right. Also back in the Splatlands. Well, most of them, anyway. With that new band. Grunt Roe, was it? Wait… no that isn’t right. Grunt Moe? Front Flow? That sounds right enough. 

It flowed off the tongue well enough that Harmony didn’t question it. Not that it mattered, since anyone from “Front Flow” was likely off the table as well.

chippy chirps - 1:22 PM

Sid > You’re going to want to find out soon. Hotel rooms are starting to fill up.

Sid > I was planning on giving the con tickets to my nieces, since Orion isn’t bringing anyone. They’re really into all this rhythm gaming stuff. 

Sid > Harmony? You there?

CLASH_BLASTER > here i got you

CLASH_BLASTER > @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone 

δ.orionis > please don’t spam her

CLASH_BLASTER > @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone @anonymous-anemone

CLASH_BLASTER > GIRL i can SEE your READ RECEIPTS

CLASH_BLASTER > PUT PIXEL ON THE PHONE

With her free hand, Harmony carefully curved a knuckle and nudged her fish to the side. In return, they blinked open their eyes and weakly flapped their fins.

“Clash wants to talk to you,” She whispered. Pixel let out a bubbling noise which could be nothing less than a groan. It made Harmony smile just a bit, as she watched them flop out of their bandana blanket and towards her phone. 

They navigated the little screen, and Harmony watched as they tapped out their reply.

anonymous-anemone > What do you want

CLASH_BLASTER >  is harmony bringing a plus one???

anonymous-anemone > She’s bringing me.

CLASH_BLASTER > nah offbeat counts symbiotic partnerships count as 1 ticket

anonymous-anemone > Oh that’s cool. IDK if she has a plus one in mind then. 

Harmony decided to take her phone back at that point, and finally tapped out a reply.

anonymous-anemone > i don’t have a plus one

CLASH_BLASTER > OMG WE ACTUALLY GOT HARMONY ON

anonymous-anemone > i already rented a hotel room anyway. 

anonymous-anemone > single bed

anonymous-anemone > no space

δ.orionis > i meeeaaannn

δ.orionis > depending on who youre plus one might beeee

δ.orionis > that wouldn’t be that big of an issuuuee

Sid > Stop bullying the poor girl. Also you used the wrong your.

δ.orionis > :’(

anonymous-anemone > train should get to inkopolis in like 45 mins

anonymous-anemone > might crash at my hotel afterwards

CLASH_BLASTER > rip harm we’re never gonna see her 

CLASH_BLASTER > have fun with sleeping beauty pixel!

She quickly silenced her phone and set it back on her lap. There’d be plenty of time to catch up with them when she got to Inkopolis anyway. 

Harmony turned her attention back out towards the window, settling her gaze towards the series of cars and trucks in the other lanes. It was hard to keep her attention on any one of them; most of them were just the same usual trucks she’d grown used to in the Splatlands. 

Passing time on the train didn’t prove too difficult. It was no different than what she’d do at Hotlantis. Except this time, she didn’t need to hand out catalogs to any “fresh-looking” squid kid that came around (Barry’s words).

So, she took to running her fingers over the stickers that adorned her old, beaten up DS, tracing the outlines of small rainbow colored stars that were scattered along the scuffed plastic. She felt the slight change in texture whenever she’d graze over the stickers, how it changed into a smooth glossy finish of newer stickers, to the more fragile, papery, older ones.

Maybe she should put more stickers along it. Though, she was running out of space at this point. While the front had the cohesive look from the cartoonish-stars, the back was full of larger stickers she’d bought at conventions and won in giveaways. 

But the centerpiece of it all was a first-edition Chirpy Chips sticker, from when the band was finally beginning to see a rise in popularity. 

It was always a nice reminder. Back to when Clash and Orion were just two guys a few grades above her. Who first reached out to her when she was just mixing sounds from old consoles she’d gotten from yard sales. When their only concerns were making silly little music based off of games they played as kids.

A lot has happened since then. She graduated from highschool, went to college, proceeded to drop out of college, ruined and repaired her relationship with Pixel, and now she’s meandering her way through life in her studio apartment in the Splatlands. Clash and Orion had gone on a few of their own musical escapades. Sid turned into an uncle, to which the rest of them made jokes about.

And now she’s on her way to an entire convention based off of video-game music to not only perform with the Chirpy Chips for the first time in years, but also to host panels, and to… just exist with her friends for a bit. 

“Heh… It’s been a while, hasn’t it Pixel-”

“Approaching Inkopolis Square. Please wait for the train to come to a complete stop before exiting. Exit is on the conductor’s left. ”

“Carp, did I space out that long?” Pixel swum up in a kind of nod. “Cod…”

Harmony immediately took to gathering everything up, shoving her DS and phone into her pockets, and crumpling up the empty chip bag (which Pixel definitely ate the entirety of while she wasn’t looking).

As quickly as she could manage, she folded up the weighted blanket, and shoved it haphazardly into her backpack.

Soon enough, the train came to its halt, and Harmony dragged her suitcase out from the overhead bin, slid on her backpack, and climbed out of her seat, making sure not to leave anything behind.

It was slightly awkward, carrying so much, but at least she wasn't too far from her hotel. She just needed to hop onto the subway, hop off a few stops over, find the hotel… check in… unpack, probably shower… text the band…

“One step at a time,” She reminded herself. So she continued on with dragging herself out of the train car and onto the platform, doing her best to push past all the people that were coming off alongside her. Inkopolis Square is still busy, after all…

However, as the moments passed, the amount of people quickly reduced, as many of them went their different ways around the station. Some moved to other platforms, while some were moving up the escalator to the city itself.

Harmony was among the latter group, pushing her suitcase up on the escalator before she went on. She also took the time to slide in a pair of earbuds just in case the square was as loud as she remembered. Pixel nestled in her tentacles, seemingly awaiting the abrasive sounds of the Square.

They were both unsurprised when they stepped off and onto the street. Loud onslaughts of honking cars, kids boasting about their wins (and raging about their losses) in Turf War, the Squid Beatz 2 machine playing loudly, and the blaring sounds of advertisements playing on the bright, assaulting screens.

She scrambled to take out her phone, turning on whatever playlist she was last listening to as loud as her ears could handle. Pixel burrowed deeper into her tentacles until they practically reached her scalp. 

“I know, I know Pixel. It’s a lot compared to the Splatlands. It’s a lot compared to… It’s just a lot.” People hustled and bustled around, weaving around each other in an almost artful fashion.  They moved with a rhythm and pulse, like an ant colony or bees in a hive, and Harmony tried to squeeze in between beats.

If only she could shut her eyes… just to make it a bit easier on herself. But doing that ran the risk of running into people, so she didn’t. Her skin prickled each time someone brushed just a little too close, and she tried her best to shy away anytime someone almost recklessly brushed past her tentacles.

When her tentacles raised unconsciously, she tucked them under her backpack just in case. 

Harmony just squeezed her way through everybody, until she finally reached the stairs of the subway. She practically ran down them, feeling a little startled by the bump each time her suitcase rolled down the steps.

Slowly, but surely, the sound was drowned out by the concrete. The pressure of Pixel pressing against her head lessened, then completely eased a second later, as she saw them swim out in front of her. Harmony took that as a sign that it was safe to pull out her headphones, and pause the Tableturf soundtrack she was listening to.

“Sorry about that, Pixel… I forgot how… loud… and bright Inkopolis could be,” Harmony said, panting slightly as she spoke. Pixel merely swam in a circle in front of her, beckoning her forward. And so, Harmony followed. “You remember which stop we’re on?”

They nodded, swimming even further ahead until they reached the platform.

The first thing Harmony noticed was the overwhelming sting of dust. The second was the large amounts of old litter and graffiti which hadn’t been cleaned up. And the final thing she noticed was how the concrete seemed to almost crack along the edges of the rails.

“Guess they haven’t been maintaining this place. Is it even running anymore?”

“Train will be arriving in two minutes. Please keep track of your belongings at all times, and stay behind the yellow line until the train completely comes to a stop.”

“Guess so.”

Since no one was down on the platform with her, she took the opportunity to sit back down on one of the benches. She hadn’t been walking for long, but with all her luggage, which did include a 15 pound blanket, she couldn’t stand for long either. It wasn’t like she wasn’t going to take her weighted blanket with her, after all. It was practically the only thing that could get her to sleep some nights.

Harmony waited patiently, letting her tentacles float freely, now that there wasn’t the risk of anyone accidentally brushing up against them. 

She took the opportunity to slide her hands in her skirt pockets again to run her hands over the stickers on her DS, tracing the old map she’d made over the years. On the left were the purple stars, which were faded and slightly torn. As her fingers moved to the right, it got to the more recent stickers, with a smooth glossy finish.

For a second, it was practically silent. Nothing but the stray drip of water, or scratching against the tiles which was probably nothing but subway ratfish. 

But, along came a sudden screech of tortured metal, and Harmony’s hands shot to her ears. She could also feel Pixel returning to the burrow they'd made on her scalp.

Despite the deadened sound she could still feel a deep rumble, punctuated with clanging and banging, though her feet. Along with a hot and humid wind blowing through her tentacles as a battered and worn subway train breached the darkness of the tunnel and began to slow to a halt before her.

As it came to a stop the carriages seemed to slump, looking almost as tired as she felt herself. And as she tentatively removed her hands, hoping the sounds had passed, the train released a final hiss of breaks almost as if sighing in relief.

Nothing followed afterwards except the sound of the carriage doors opening and an indistinct tannoy, staticy with age, presumably declaring the station. Not that she could tell.

With her own sigh, Harmony began to pull herself up to her feet and drag herself though the tarnished doors of the subway.

Every seat she could see was empty, making rows upon rows of bare gray metal, barely illuminated by the flickering lights. The leather was worn from years of use, with some of the metal around beginning to rust. She could feel the tingle of salt rusted metal on her tongue, but wasn’t sure if it was really there or just something her tired, travel worn, brain had conjured up. 

Some of the walls were covered with graffiti as well, adding a touch of neon greens, blues, and pinks to the drab grays and silvers of the rest of the train car. 

Harmony took one of the seats against the windows, finally setting down her backpack and suitcase on the seats beside her.

Presently, with a somewhat unpleasant beeping, the doors began to close. Each clanking as they locked. She had to shake off the feeling of the doors locking her away, after all, it was just a short hop to the hotel and bed.

“Four stops, then our hotel is just a block away, right?” She was mostly talking to herself, but Pixel came out from their hiding place and nodded. “Alright.”

She settled back into her seat with a heave as, with a judder that seemed to flow along the carriages like spring, the train began to move once again. The sound of old motors and wheels protesting at being made to move were still present, but at least reduced to a tolerable level by the metal shell around them.

“I really gotta take a nap when we get there… You gonna need anything?” Harmony turned her gaze down, seeing that Pixel had already rested on her lap, closing their eyes. “Nevermind then.”

She pulled the bandana back out from her pocket, and gently lay it over them with a subdued chuckle. “Night night, Pixel”

They quickly nestled themself in the fabric, and Harmony couldn't even try to suppress the tired smile.

Even if she wanted to sleep too, she knew she couldn't. It was up to her to count the stops. Four stops. The doors would open four times. Then that was her stop. 

Wait. Or was it three door-opens, and she'd get out on the fourth? Four stops…

“Oh dear…” Harmony leaned forward with a sigh, gently running her fingers along the length of her tentacles as she muttered. “Three or four? I guess… effort-wise, I guess it'll be easier to get out after the third sign… that'd put us just a few more blocks away… I could walk that far. I think. I think it'd be longer if I were to backtrack…”

She nodded to herself, giving her tentacles a gentle tug for assurance. “Three it is then.”

The train slid to a stop with its apparently customary sounds of squealing metal and clanking joints, and the first round of doors opened with a clatter, revealing a platform even more desolate than the last. Even from Harmony's seat, the salty taste of dust stung her throat, and broken concrete pebbles littered the ground.

“Was it always this run down?” Harmony asked, watching the doors close moments later. She wasn't necessarily expecting an answer; the train seemed quite static, even the sounds of its motion that once seemed so loud were eaten by the solitude. 

Which made it all the more surprising when she received one.

“Not always,” A voice rasped in reply.

Her head whipped around, finding a giant isopod lumbering his way from a different train car. One of his many hands gripped an intricately etched cane, with several stickers along the length of it. 

“This place used to be much brighter…” The steady thump of his cane echoed against the long corridor of the train. In another hand, he carried a briefcase, which seemed to barely be holding itself open. “Six years can change a place.”

“Six years?” Harmony replied. Even though she knows she hasn't used the subway since she lived in Inkopolis… “That’s a long time to go without repairs.”

It would at least explain how worn everything was, as well as the tired atmosphere. She idly wondered how it was even still running. Wouldn’t something as complicated as a subway need repairs pretty regularly?

“It sure is.” The old isopod sighed, setting his case on a seat across from Harmony. “May I sit here?”

“Oh… umm, sure. Go ahead.” She watched as he nudged his case to the side, and shakily settled into the seat across from her. It was a little unclear if his tremors were simply due to the train bouncing along its tracks or the age of the isopod. He pushed his cane under the seat when he was finished, crossing all six arms after.

It was now that Harmony actually got a good look at what he was wearing. An old black suit. It seemed well kept, but on second glance, Harmony could see a bit of fraying at the edges, and a few tears along the seams.

But there also seemed to be a touch of childish whimsy. His carapace seemed to be covered in stickers, not unlike her DS. Similarly, on two of his hands, he seemed to be wearing something akin to slap-bracelets. With another look to the ataché case, Harmony saw a small stuffed hand peeking out.

However, her observations came to a halt when the man spoke again.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

Quite an odd question to ask a girl alone on a train. Especially when Harmony did live in Inkopolis for practically half her life. 

“Uh… I mean. I used to live in Inkopolis.” 

The old man uncrossed one set of arms, and slapped his knee with a wheezing laugh. 

“Was… that funny?” 

The isopod took a moment to steady himself, wheezing out a breath when his laughing ceased.

“Apologies, young wayfarer,” His arms stretched out until he returned them to their crossed position. “I wasn’t talking about Inkopolis.”

The train slowed into a halt once again, and Harmony felt a rush of frigid air waft in, still tinged with salt, as the doors separated.

“Okay then?” Harmony trailed off, returning to gently tugging on the ends of her tentacles as the doors slid shut again. “One more stop…”

The isopod fell silent as well, instead turning his face downwards towards his briefcase. It practically seemed like it would burst at the seams, with the metal sides bulging out in odd spots, and dented in on others. Similar stickers lined the briefcase as well. 

Harmony would be lying to say she wasn’t at least a tad bit curious to see what was inside. 

She was curious about a lot of things about this man, to be honest. For someone who’s presence seemed so imposing, he seemed almost whimsical with the way he carried himself. His fingertips barely grazed the edges of the latches as he pulled it up to his lap. 

A small click sounded, and she silently watched as the case, as expected, burst open, and several plush toys tumbled out, scattering across the isopod’s lap, the floor, and all over the seats.

As opposed to the man’s suit, each stuffed animal seemed to be in pristine condition, each with clean seams, unmarred fabric, and perfectly embroidered patterns. The only sign of age on them seemed to be a slight fading in fabric and the collection of lint.

“Oh dear…” The isopod muttered. He seemed to hunch over, until an unsavory crack sounded as the joints of his exoskeleton pulled apart. 

Each of his arms slowly unfolded from his chest, reaching to gather the several fallen plushies from the seat beside him, and brushing whatever dirt had gotten on them.

“Apologies young ones… I’ll fix you right up.” Once he finished the stuffed animals he had in hand, the isopod gently sat them down in the briefcase. Each movement of his was delicate and precise, as if the plushies were made of the most precious porcelain instead of fabric. 

Harmony didn’t even realize she’d gotten up until she found herself kneeling by the old isopod’s side, gently reaching towards a plush, pale, sea angel that laid on the floor. Warm accents dotted all around the surface of the fabric, reminiscent of a flickering candle.

She gently cradled the plushie in her hand, finding it small enough that it could easily fit in her palm. The fabric seemed to be made of soft fluff. It was fairly squishy as well, reminiscent of the sea angel that it sought to imitate. 

Harmony offered it up to the old isopod. “Here you go.”

He accepted, pulling the plush slug into one of his hands, and dusting it off with another. 

“Thank you, wayfarer,” he started, his voice raspy and thick. “This child will sleep soundly.”

Harmony didn’t pay the sentence any mind, and instead reached for another one. This one took the appearance of a small, partially glowing fish. It seemed to be larger than the sea angel, but only barely. Upon handing it back, the isopod thanked her again. 

“You are too kind. You’ve returned my lantern fish for me,” he had said. It almost seemed as if he was talking to himself, more than Harmony. But she didn’t mention it. By the looks of the train, he’d been alone for some time. Maybe a conversation partner would be a nice change.

“It’s the least I could do…” Harmony replied. She looked around, seeing if there were any more stuffed animals along the floor which she could gather. 

Most of them had been picked up, except for a deep red stuffed octopus, far larger than both the lanternfish and the sea angel. Where those two could fit in her palm, it seemed as if she’d need to pick it up with both arms. It was a little ways away, having tumbled past the row of seats where both of them were.

Harmony pressed herself up onto her feet, and meandered her way towards the octopus, but the ground suddenly shifted below her as the train slid to a halt.

The motion caused the octopus to flop over itself, rolling up against the door when the train finally stopped. Only for it to fall through once they slid open. 

She quickly made her way to the door, and out onto the pale-white concrete where it landed. It only took her a moment to pull the stuffed octopus up into her arms, and to look out at the stop.

Her breath escaped her when she did.

The entirety of the station was blanketed in glimmering, small, white crystals, almost as if it had snowed underground. But unlike snow, the crystals crept up the walls of the station in odd trails, jutting out in sharp, gnarly spires that could rival her own height. Only the faintest trickles of the subway’s managed to filter through, leaving a dim and haunted appearance.

Harmony slid her feet backwards, and her eyes widened.

This… wasn’t right. There was supposed to be concrete, right? Subways have concrete. On the ceiling, on the walls, and the ground. It was supposed to be stable, plain, and flat. Then she’d walk out of the subway, and towards her hotel. That was the plan.

She wasn’t expecting her plans to change. Let alone for the subway itself to be overgrown with aggressive spikes.

Just on the far wall, the crystals darkened as shadows danced along them. Long, and slender shadows which twisted and writhed like sheets. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Her hands felt both stiff and slippery as they dug into the fabric of the plushie. Like she was made of the highest grade steel, held together by rebar, and as static as the scene in front of her. But her iron hands began to slip as if an oil spill had washed over them, making it impossible to hold anything in place.

Something wasn’t right here.

Glimmering scales caught her attention too, weaving through each crystalline blade, only to disappear as soon as Harmony looked at it.

Blood pounded through her ears, and Harmony couldn’t tell why. 

Perhaps a kind metal in her body was beginning to rust as well. It’d make sense. Her knees felt fragile enough that even the slightest disturbance to the statue she’d become could cause them to crumble below her, crumble like the aging walls around her which seemed to buckle and bend under the invasive crystals.

“Young wayfarer, please breathe.” The isopod’s voice sounded much closer than it likely should have been. Did he move without her realizing? “The doors are going to close soon.”

The words seemed to stay flat in her brain, and still, she couldn’t will her body to move. The doors are going to close soon. She repeated to herself. Is that a statement that beckons a response? Or was it just idle? Maybe she should look at him to check. See if she could decipher his facial expressions.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the field in front of her. The shadows danced, creeping ever closer to the door in snake-like streams, leaving paths of their shimmering scales just out of reach.

Every crystal was bright enough that her eyes almost burned. Her throat practically burned at the taste of salt that hung in the air. Were the salt crystals that had broken down the walls now growing in her? Suffocating and bearing down until she too crumbled?

Harmony could not move a muscle as her thoughts whirled and writhed like whatever lurked between the spires.

A black blur swept across her vision, and she suddenly felt slight pressure pushed against her cheek. Harmony jolted back from the sudden sensation. 

The doors practically crashed together as soon as Harmony stepped back, and the shock of it almost knocked her over. A small clack of the locks added a sense of finality, sealing away the writhing tendrils. Her knees knocked together as they tried to find some sort of stability, and her hand clutched desperately on the plush that she honestly forgot she was holding.

“Here…” The isopod said, holding out a hand for her. He eased her down into one of the subway’s seats, where Pixel nestled their way onto Harmony’s shoulder. She still couldn’t stop shaking.

At least sitting down made it easier to bring herself together. She watched as Pixel swam around her in concerned little circles, moving back and forth, up, down, and around until her breathing eased. Harmony didn’t even know she was hyperventilating.

She closed her eyes in a long blink, letting her brain reset to the scenery in front of her.

When Harmony dared to open them again, only one thing came to mind.

“Where am I?”

Chapter Text

The old isopod gazed out the window beside him, the station beginning to blur as the train once again heaved itself forwards. His expression was mostly obscured by his glasses, but from the little people skills Harmony possessed, she could guess that it wasn’t exactly joyous.

“The Deepsea Metro used to travel all across a corporation called Kamabo.” As the view of the window was swallowed by the darkness of the tunnel, his gaze finally returned to Harmony, and he stretched out two of his arms. “I was never privy to the inner workings of the company. I only served as one of their early test subjects.”

“Test subjects?” Was the first question asked. “What did they need test subjects for?”

The isopod seemed to laugh, but it only ever came out as a wheeze. “I wish I could tell you. But alas, my memories have long faded. What little I have is contained within these.”

He dipped his hand into the depths of his suit pocket, and pulled out two tiny shapes. Both of them was decorated in vibrant neon colors, almost looking like children's erasers.

One was of a roly-poly, entirely curled in on itself, revealing nothing but its skeletal plates. The other seemed to be almost a rag doll, beaten up and thrown around. One of the eyes seemed to have fallen out, and stuffing spilled out of the seams.

They seemed almost gummy in texture. Squishy and pliable, like a marshmallow. I wonder what they—

“You seem quite starstruck, young wayfarer. Do any questions come to mind?”

A little impulsively, Harmony replied: “What do they taste like?”

The isopod froze.

“I am unsure… I have never attempted to consume a mem cake.”

“It tastes like cake? ”

“A fish cake, perhaps.” He replied. “But anyway, I digress. Where was I?”

Harmony backtracked a few sentences in her brain, piecing together the conversation before she got distracted by the prospect of eating.

 “Test subject. Kamabo. You were talking about that.”

He slowly nodded, and slid the mem cakes back into his pocket. “Thank you, yes. So, around six, perhaps seven years ago this train was alive with the sights of my kind.”

One set of his fingers delicately pat the top of the stuffed octopus. It was easy to imagine a tall Octoling to match it, standing just by the both of them, and gripping onto the handrails. Involved in their own world, completely detached from whichever world Harmony was traipsing through.  “All our lives revolved around Kamabo, so many of us found ourselves as test subjects.”

“What were the tests?” The Octoling disappeared from her vision as she turned back to him. “Like… exams?”

He shook his head. “Physical tests, they were. Ones of strength, endurance, and agility.” 

Harmony’s brow scrunched, thinking of what they could possibly entail. She’d failed enough of those kinds of tests back in high school already. Making an entire life out it sounded, well like hell, for her at the very least. “Was the pay at least good?”

“We were paid in the promises of a new land.” Several images came to Harmony’s mind, with very few of them being desirable. 

“So… A development company?” Harmony asked. New land? Seems plausible enough. And the subway would serve as a good way to get around. More efficient than cars too. “I don’t know why they’d need test subjects though.”

“Uhm. Perhaps…” He shrugged. “But, trust me, it’s of the least relevance.”

Harmony decided to retreat from her questions, letting the isopod continue with his story.

“But, six years ago… Someone came along. A young squire. They held a light within their eyes that I’ve seen countless times. I was afraid they would disappear as quickly as many others, that they would fade into obscurity as many children did.” His voice began to waver, Harmony noticed. It was slight, but noticeable enough to cause concern.

“Woah. Woah woah,” was all Harmony could bring herself to say for a moment. All she could do was blink as her brain marinated in his statement. “You’re telling me children were test subjects?”

Harmony's head flooded with nauseating disgust when the isopod nodded.

“Far too many, I’m afraid,” His arm raised to point to the stuffed animal pile at his side. “They’re the reason I kept making these. Many were frightened to be taking the train alone… I-I thought they could have used a friend. Only none of them ever came back to receive them. Now they’ve just been piling up…”

Then his voice waver happened again, but this time, it was more prominent. A weak breathy sound that overtook the entire sentence. 

Harmony saw him hunch over, beginning to roll up like the mem cake he had shown her just moments earlier.

Pixel swam up to him first. Harmony followed a step behind.

The closer she stepped, the more she saw about him. There was a slight tremor. A shake in his shoulders, a twitch of his fingers, and a harshness to his breathing. 

Harmony reached her hand towards him, ghosting just above his shoulder. It was the only comfort she could think of, so she softly brought her hand down to rest upon his suit coat.

The age was even more apparent by touch. Silver dust collected on the frayed threads, sticking to her still-clammy fingertips.

Harmony couldn’t often be trusted with words, so she kept silent, gently pressing down on his shoulder as he began to take deeper and deeper breaths.

A moment later, he lifted his head up again, straightening up his back as he did so.

“You are very kind, wayfarer. You and your companion remind me of several of them.” His hand moved up to his face, removing the sunglasses from his eyes to polish them with a rag he fished out of his suitcase. “Sincerest apologies for that, it’s just... Those children were very dear to me.”

Harmony moved to sit by him, on the side not occupied by plushies. She shook her head in response.

“Don’t be sorry for feeling… You can’t really control it.”

“Perhaps I cannot.” He slid the glasses back on, and leaned back with a sigh. His hands quickly found something else to busy themselves with, taking up the octopus plushie which Harmony had retrieved for him. Upon closer inspection, the care that was put into it was evident. The tentacles sprawled about, reaching the ground as he inspected it. Just on the back was a line of embroidery which Harmony swore were words, only in a language she couldn’t understand.

 “I’ve just been waiting years for a response. For some kind of sign that the children were okay. I can only hope they’ve found their own ways home. But, as you saw… the remnants of Kamabo are falling into ruin. Ocean water has slowly seeped into the stations, leaving their salts to crystallize the platforms. I believe some stations have flooded entirely.”

“This place really is falling apart then?”

“Sadly, it is. These train lines have been dwindling in passengers since the fall of Kamabo. No one has boarded these trains for years besides myself and the conductor. It seems that all that’s left of previous passengers is only contained in our memories...” 

Quietude seemed to overtake both of them. The isopod set the octopus back down again, beside the other plushies. Now Harmony understood the melancholy of it all. They all stood in neat little rows, almost like headstones. Each possessing a long forgotten memory of an unlucky child. She imagined the Octoling once more, but this time, rocking back and forth in a youthful nervousness, biting back their own fear just as Harmony was.

A chill ran down Harmony’s spine at the thought. These are only the children he knew about. She understood why he was about to cry. If she knew any more, she might have too. 

The isopod pat her hand with his own, and Harmony took that as a sign to remove it. 

“I must not veer off track. You want to know how to leave, I’m assuming.”

“Oh…” If Harmony was being completely honest, she forgot that her hotel was waiting for her. “Yeah… I kinda got people waiting on me. You’re—uh—a good storyteller though.”

“I appreciate the sentiment. But it’d likely be best for you to get where you’re going. Just as you said, we don’t want to keep your people waiting.” Harmony nodded. “Then I’ll help you out. Let’s go talk to the conductor. I believe they would know best.”

He kicked his cane out from under the seat, and leaned down to grip it. Harmony watched intently as he pulled it up towards himself, and pushed himself up off the seat with a heave. 

“Their train car is this way,” He pointed forward, and Harmony took that as a sign to get up herself. She trailed a few steps behind him, just in case. His steps were slow and shaky, but stable and even enough that it wasn’t a huge concern. Pixel simply swam between the two.

The three of them wordlessly ambled forward, stepping through door after door of empty train cars, watching the dust settle in front of them whenever they stepped.

Soon they approached a train car, which upon first glance, seemed as empty as all the rest. It was positively quiet and still, with absolutely nothing to set it apart despite slightly different graffiti along the walls.

Until a voice sounded from beside them.

“Test subject 150…”

The isopod turned, and Harmony did the same. On one of the seats sat a luminous blue sea cucumber, curled faintly in on themself. Upon their entry, the sea cucumber weakly turned up their head, (or what Harmony assumed was their head) until they were eye to eye with both of them.

Her newfound companion seemed to laugh in reply. “Would it kill you to call me by my name?” 

The sea cucumber rested its head back down on the seat, nudging a discarded conductor’s cap at their side.

“You have none.” The cucumber’s voice was even and cool, in a tone that suggested it was not meant as an insult but merely a fact.

“Neither do you, C.Q” 

“Perhaps so.” C.Q., as he came to be known, unfurled himself, and slowly lifted his hat until it sat on their head. Then, he looked back at both of them. “So, what brings you here, Iso Padre?”

Iso Padre gestured towards Harmony, and she suddenly realized that she was now part of the conversation. 

“This young wayfarer and her companion have lost their way. I was hoping you would assist in returning them to the surface.”

“You know as well as I do, Padre, that I'm bound by duty. I can't reroute the train without consensus from the others.”

C.Q. slinked down the seat until they landed perfectly on the floor beneath them. 

“C.Q., if I may—” Iso Padre started

“I never said I wouldn't help.” They paused for a moment before continuing. “But I am not a miracle worker.”

“I don’t think stopping and starting a train counts as a miracle.” Harmony finally said, and without a thought, she tacked on: “Isn’t there a button for it, or something?”

C.Q. turned to Harmony and dipped their head.

“No, there is no button.” C.Q. brought up his head to gaze at Harmony. “Allow me to explain. To stop and start the train, a request must be made by a CQ-80, and subsequently accepted by a majority of the other C.Q. Cumbers.”

“Aren’t you literally the conductor though? Stopping the train is like seventy percent of the job description. Why do you need to jump through hoops?” She could feel a faint pounding against her brain, steadily growing just a bit more powerful each second she thought.

“It’s Kamabo’s protocol. Conductors do not have the ability to input station requests. Only passengers and corporate management have the ability to do that.”

Iso Padre spoke as well. “It’s to prevent unnecessary stops. Kamabo prides itself on efficiency.”

“That sounds insanely inefficient, but I guess.” She threw up her hands in mock defense, but quickly returned to hanging them limply in front of her. “But this company seems pretty dead to me. Even Padre said so... sorta.”

“Dead may be the incorrect term.” C.Q. responded. “Comatose would be better. Business has definitely slowed, but Kamabo still seems to run. And so, we still run on Kamabo’s infrastructure. As run-down and worn-out as it may seem, it is the only technology at our disposal. To rework it all would take years, if we even could. Years that I doubt any of us have. So we continue with the CQ-80.”

“Okay. Got it.” Harmony sighed. “So what’s a CQ-80?”

“It is a device manufactured by Kamabo with a variety of functions, one of which being able to request stops on the line, among other uses for subjects undergoing testing at Kamabo’s stations.” C.Q. turned to Iso Padre. “Do you still have yours?”

Iso Padre shuffled around, pulling a small remote from his opposite suit pocket. 

“I’m afraid it’s showing its age,” He said, handing it off to C.Q.

“Everything here is, Padre.” Their voice flattened, and they clicked the center button with their side. A large holographic interface came up. But it was faint and distorted. It was hard enough to read the little words that appeared; the screen was practically transparent. And many more words were distorted beyond recognition, flickering in and out of the display.

It reminded her of the particularly bad consoles she had tried to repair. The ones where corrosion, decay, and apathy had rendered all but the most hardy or most basic of components non-functional. She loved and loathed those projects. The feeling of bringing the old hardware back from the brink was awe inspiring. But most of the time, she could only watch as components, in some cases literally, withered away before her eyes.

C.Q. flicked the screen towards a kind of map, still as faint and distorted as the rest of the screen. Some lines seemed to disconnect and reconnect, while others were disjointed and not connected to anything.

“Are these the train lines?” Harmony mumbled, mostly for herself and Pixel. But C.Q. responded anyway.

“What's left of them. The map is barely functional anymore,” and they nudged the CQ-80 back to Iso Padre. “We’re going to need to issue a new CQ-80 for you.”

Iso Padre bent down to pick it up. “But the Commander is no more. How will the wayfarer get one?”

“Perhaps we can source one from other means.”

“How? Aren’t you the only workers of Kamabo anymore?” Iso Padre asked again.

“To our knowledge. We haven’t received any responses when reaching out to other employees.”

“Then who will provide them? And will it even work?”

All the words seemed to race by Harmony within seconds. She was still trying to wrap her head around the concept of traveling through underwater ruins. But the two of them seemed to skip past all of it, in favor of logistics.

She found herself tugging on her tentacles again, gently wrapping them around her fingers as she pulled.

Harmony tried to listen, but everything they said caught in her brain before she could even begin to decipher it. They might as well have been speaking a different language, considering how easy it was for her to disconnect. 

Pixel swam out to nudge her cheek. All she could bring herself was to sigh.

“Listen buddy, I'm trying, alright?” She told them. “Just, gimme a minute”

“Trying what?” Iso Padre replied.

Harmony looked up and blinked slowly.  “Nothing, I'm just being silly.” 

“Now is no time to be silly,” C.Q. said.

“Yeah… I guess, yeah, sorry.” Harmony weakly flapped her hands, as if it would shake out both the silliness and her confusion.

“Your silliness will be forgiven. As for the CQ-80, I do believe there was a repair facility somewhere in Kamabo. We could have her take your CQ-80 there and repair it. Or, perhaps along the way, she can pick up one of her own.”

“I thought the map didn’t work?” Harmony said.

“That’s because it doesn’t,” C.Q. Cumber started. “But I know the train’s pattern. I am simply unable to change it.”

Iso Padre turned back to Harmony. “See, wayfarer, that’s where our issue lies.” He drew a line in the air as he spoke. “The trains here are all automated to run their courses until they reach the end of their lines.”

Harmony nodded, though she was sure her frustration poked through. “Yeah, that's how trains are supposed to work.”

“Yes, but the metro is unique. Until the end of the line is reached, the train makes no stops unless requested.”

“So, the only way to make stops is by requesting them with a CQ-80…” Harmony finished.

“Exactly,” C.Q. Cumber replied. 

“Wait,” Her memory shot back to just a few minutes earlier. “What about those stops earlier? Where the station was salty.”

“Ah, yes. One of the salt stations. Well, there lies a separate problem.” C.Q. Cumber said. “Similar to how some CQ-80s won’t display or request stations… There seems to be one that keeps requesting them.”

“Wait,” Harmony felt her face screw into a confused half scowl as she looked at C.Q. “What? How?”

“We aren’t sure. Perhaps the technology has crumbled with its age.” 

“Uhh… I don’t think that’s how it works?” Harmony replied. Her brain quickly racked through the odds and ends of her memories for whatever it could fix up into a coherent thought.

“Pardon?” C.Q. Cumber said.

“Well, I see it all the time with faulty game consoles. Sometimes they misunderstand requests…” The silence surrounding her became deafening.  “And—uh, well sometimes they’ll lag. Sometimes computing power doesn’t keep up… Like—uh… The old ones. But rarely do they operate by themselves. If ever.”

Her hands quickly returned to tugging on her fingers. “But… I guess it's probably different, and—well, nevermind.”

“Well. you do bring a good point.” Iso Padre nodded. “Perhaps there are more denizens wandering the metro than we expected.” 

“If anything, it proves our efforts to repair the CQ-80 won't be fruitless. But even still, we’re going to need to be careful. Who knows what's even waiting at the end of the line?”

Maybe the statement alone was just so out of pocket, or maybe it was just her way of trying to cope with whatever was happening around her. Either way, a small laugh bubbled up out of Harmony. 

Padre and C.Q. both looked over to her, questioning. Pixel, on the other fin, just rubbed their fin into their face. Her giggles turned a tad nervous before they stopped completely. “Sorry, sorry, no silliness. Just the way you said that made it sound like... something is gonna kill me.” 

“Oh, dear me, no. We’re referring to the end of the train lines.” Padre hesitated, as Harmony still tried to gather herself.

C.Q. chimed in. “Death is not on the agenda.” 

“That's good to know." Pixel nodded in agreement. For a moment there was silence, but C.Q. promptly broke it. 

“It seems out best bet is for you to transfer to a corporate train, and find the repair facility from there. The easiest way for you to transfer without a CQ-80 at your disposal is for you to stay until the end of the line, where we’ll then be taken to the train yard.”

“So I just hop on a train and wait for it to take me somewhere? On a train that never stops?” Her tone still seemed both equally comical and equally dreadful. A combination she never really expected to have before today.

“They don’t.” C.Q. Cumber seemed to do his closest approximation to a shrug. “But, as mentioned before, the trains have been stopping and starting. If we transfer you to a corporate train, navigating your way through Kamabo should be easy if you know what you’re doing.”

Harmony sighed, but the sound itself was closer to a groan. “How about, I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I’ll be on the next train to explain it to you. For now, however, I recommend that you and your companion find something suitable to eat. It's a long journey until the end of the line.”

“Fine, I guess… But uhh… I’m kinda fresh outta my snacks…”

C.Q. paused for a moment, seemingly anticipating Harmony’s next question. “I doubt you'd find our diets of marine snow suitable for your needs. However, we just recieved a request for central station. There's a vending machine there. I'll keep the doors open for you as you collect your sustenance.”

“How much will it cost?”

Iso Padre brought one of his hands up to Harmony’s shoulder. She instinctively squirmed to shake it off. 

“Young wayfarer, just steal it.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Steal it,” C.Q. Cumber continued. “Neither Padre nor I will be using it. The food will likely expire soon anyway.”

“Oh… alright.” Harmony replied.

The train suddenly slid to a halt, and once again, the doors slid open. 

“We’re here. The staff unlock code for the vending machine is 8888, then hold the enter button for eight seconds. You’ll be able to get all you want with that.”

“Oh… alright.” 

She meandered over to the door, seeing the platform in front of her. It wasn’t as overrun as the last one she saw, but salt crystals still climbed up the walls, nestling in the seams between the wall and ceiling. Looking like a white, crystalline mold, as the fractal patterns curved with the walls. Here and there, growths of the crystal had detached from the walls, in the beginning stages of the towering shards of salt she had seen previously.

Much of the paint that once decorated the subway seemed chipped and faded as well. The yellow line marking the threshold between the platform and the train was almost indistinguishable from the normal concrete anymore, only a slight set of bumps in the material making it clear where the platform’s lines used to be.

From the very corners of her periphery, Harmony spotted the dreary glow of a few vending machines. They flittered and flickered every second.

As Harmony crossed the platform, the vending machines grew clearer in her vision. They carried all sorts of off-brand snacks, most with shiny plastic, decorated with cartoonishly bright colors and strange graphics of cartoon sharks and fish. 

None of them were recognizable; the letters were completely different than those she was used to. Or maybe she was just tired. At this point, it could have been either.

“Yo, Pixel. What stuff do you want?”

They swam out, slinking towards the vending machine until their head softly collided with the glass. Harmony looked to see what they had pointed to. 

“I will never understand how you can stand salt and vinegar, buddy.” Pixel almost seemed to bear a hint of a snicker in response, so Harmony merely rolled her eyes and input both the code CQ had given her, and the code for the chips. 

For herself, she went with practically anything. Chocolate candies, sour gummy eels, pretzel sticks, and even a few sodas too. 

Her arms were practically full when she moved to turn around. Well, until Pixel gently nudged her cheek again.

“What now?” She grumbled. They swam back up to the vending machine, and bumped their head against one of the bottled drinks. “Oh my cod… are you seriously trying to make me drink water?”

Pixel swam upwards in a nod. 

“I already got sodas. I have enough drinks.”

They simply stared, staying beside the vending machine as Harmony watched. Their gaze, being as tired as it was, remained unmoving. 

They both winced as from the train began its beeping chime followed by the clatter of doors closing. When she turned to look she saw C.Q. Cumber in front of a panel which seemed to be keeping one of the doors open.

Harmony turned back towards Pixel and tried to meet their eyes. But within a moment, she knew they were right.

“Curse you and your concern for my health.” She punched in the codes for three water bottles, and grabbed them as soon as they tumbled out. “Now are we done?”

Pixel nodded again. 

“Good. Back onto the train then…” She shifted each of the packages in her hands, wrapping her arms around the entirety of the haul before taking slow, methodical steps back to the train car. 

The continuous chiming sounded almost annoyed as she approached, the doors perpetually starting to close before bouncing back open and preventing the train from moving off.

She groaned when the inevitable package collided with the ground. Though, Pixel would quickly swim down and pick it up themself. 

It took a moment, but both of them were able to drag themselves back onto the train car, but once they did, they practically dropped all their snacks onto one of the nearby seats.

As soon as they were clear of the doors they closed with a petulant clack and the train began to move onwards though somehow the already rough ride felt rougher as the train accelerated faster than she was expecting.

Maybe it was upset that she had delayed it? And if nothing else, she was tired enough that the very fact that she was thinking about the feelings of an inanimate object somehow seemed just plausible enough to be true.

“I see you took the side of preparation.” Iso Padre remarked. Harmony simply nodded, sitting down by her pile, beginning to open her backpack to sort it all.

By pushing her scavenged human consoles aside, and pressing down her weighted blanket, she was able to maybe fit two to three chip bags in the back pocket. She shoved the water bottles into the holders, shoving in some of the candy bars beside them as well.

Harmony pressed down more cables down in her front pocket, jamming as many packages in there as she could. Gummies, hard candies, fruit snacks, some granola bars that she got so Pixel wouldn't completely chastise her, and a myriad of others were unceremoniously shoved in her backpack until it practically bulged when she zipped it up.

“How long… um, do you think it’ll take?” 

Iso Padre sighed from across her. “I can't say… Perhaps one day. Perhaps a year… The metro alone sprawls into nothingness. I can only imagine how it must be for Kamabo Proper.” A pause hung between the two of them. “But I believe in you, wayfarer.”

“You do?”

“Of course. You are kind, and resilient. You remind me of others I've seen in my time. And you even have a companion with you.”

Pixel wriggled closer to Iso Padre.

“Yeah… I guess I do.”

Chapter Text

“We are merely a few stations away from the end of the line. I’d recommend at least bringing your backpack along. However, your suitcase can be left in my care.”

“Are you sure? There's a lotta stuff in there…” 

“It is safe with me. I never leave the train car.”

“Alrighty then…” Harmony pushed her suitcase towards C.Q. Cumber, settling it by his side.

With a sigh, Harmony looked out the window, watching the darkness race by. “So, how long until—uh—then?”

C.Q. slinked closer to both her and Padre. “We will arrive in about three more minutes. I'd recommend making one more check of your backpack for things you want to bring. I’ll go retrieve a first aid kit for you as well, just in case.”

“You think I’m going to need a first aid kit?” Harmony tilted her head, and C.Q. nodded in response.

“We’ve lost practically all contact with most other Kamabo facilities. For all we know, an array of anglerfish could await you upon your arrival.”

“You are very brightly colored.” Iso Padre added. “You’d likely catch the eye of many. Or those of us that have eyes, at least.”

“Is… is it really that dangerous?” Harmony moved to scratch her scalp, but hesitated, and ultimately dropped the action before she could.

“Well, wayfarer, we don’t know. The only communication we’ve had is through C.Q. Cumber, and even he knows little.”

To say Harmony wasn’t prepared for this would be an understatement. It was one thing to walk into a room full of salt crystals, but an entire company building facing all sorts of decay?

She shuddered at the thought. And she felt Pixel do the same. Seems that they were not even remotely ready for what lay ahead. 

“Uhmmm… So how hard is this whole thing gonna be?” Harmony asked, but she wasn’t prepared for how pathetic her question would sound. Her voice cracked up high, making her sound no older than a child. 

“No easier than the tests, I’d imagine.” 

“Oh dear.” Guess this makes me an idiot for skipping gym… Desperate to derail that train of thought, her eyes flit up to Pixel, and she flipped open her phone to a communications app, pre-fitted with custom phrases that she and a keyboard function. “Hey, Pix. If you’re up to keep typing, you got any questions for them?”

Pixel flicked their head in a nod and swam down, tapping the small buttons to form a short phrase.

“What should we look out for? ” The phone spoke aloud.

C.Q. Cumber returned, pushing the first aid kit to Harmony’s feet. “Falling debris, angler fish, siphonophores, faulty electricity, flooded rooms… those kinds of things.”

Harmony went to pick up the first aid kit as Pixel continued. 

“This doesn’t seem safe. ”

“It very likely isn’t…” Iso Padre replied.

“Why should we do it? ”

Harmony latched the first aid kit to the outside of her basket. “Because neither of us could find a way out if we tried…” Harmony rubbed her forehead as her voice quieted. “Yeah, I definitely could have said that nicer…”

“It’s alright. But this still sounds dangerous. ”

“Okay, but do you seriously have any other ideas?”

A breath, and then: “C.Q. Cumber could lead the way. ”

“Who would run the train?” C.Q. Cumber asked.

“ so Padre could. ”

“Oh, young adventurer, I think you’ve misunderstood. I’m not a worker for the metro. I’m merely an experienced passenger.” His hand found its way to his whiskers, stroking along the length as he spoke. “But, you raise a good point. I think it’s only fair to accompany you both. Though I must warn you, even my memory is shrouded in mists.”

Pixel swam around in thought, orbiting around Harmony’s head.

“It's better than nothing... As you can see… I'm not the best at not getting lost.” Harmony’s voice seemed to give out at the last second, trailing into a whisper. 

Pixel swam down to type, but before all the buttons were pressed, Iso Padre spoke.

“It’s alright, wayfarer. I'm almost certain this place is designed as a crab trap.” He uncrossed two pairs of arms, letting them hang relaxed at his sides. “I’ve seen it countless times before. One can fall in with remarkable ease. But none of us have even been able to leave until a few years ago.”

“Well, why do you guys stay?”

“To help little kids like you.” He let out a short laugh as Harmony pouted. 

“I’m twenty-one…”

“That’s what I said. Kids.”

“Oh yeah? How old are you? ”

“Forty… Wait… No... That’s a good question.” He fell silent for a few seconds, tapping his head before he snapped loudly enough to startle them. “Somewhere between forty-two and seventy-six!”

“That’s… quite the range.”

“I suppose so… But I’m far from a mathematician. I am simply a passenger on this vast system. Just as you are.”

“Well, I’m no good at math either—”

“Liar. ”

“Well, it’s not lying. I only understand, like, not a whole lot of it.”

“That’s more than me!” Iso Padre laughed. “You’re doing fine, wayfarer.”

“I doubt it. I only barely scraped by algebra…”

“Well, I’ve never taken algebra!” A smile resided on his features. “I was never one to understand numbers. It always seemed so artificial to me… Placing values on the real world like that. It’s very fascinating that you can even begin to make sense of it all.”

“I guess I can see that.” There was something about Padre. He seemed so open for a man Harmony had only known for a short while. A warmth seemed to creep through her body, steadying her shaky hands and settling her bounding heart.

“You guess?”

“Well—”

The train car began to slow, leaving the sounds of points clanging against the train's wheels to ring out into the dark. As the train came to its final stop, the ever-present hum of motors and arcing electricity faded away. First to a dull murmur, then with a sigh, into complete silence, where each breath reverberated and resounded.

For as grating the constant droning was, Harmony thought she might have preferred it to this eerie dead silence. Akin to a plaza or street that should be full of life, sound, and energy but instead found itself lifeless and desolate.

Even the clattering of the doors before them was quickly swallowed up by the dim gloom. A gloom that Harmony realized started to grow closer as the lights in the train began to dim as if settling down to sleep.

Harmony briefly considered whether the amount she personified inanimate objects today was something she should be concerned about as she watched C.Q. Cumber inch towards them.

“We’ve reached the train yard. Three trains to your left, and you’ll reach a Kamabo Corporate train. It’ll take you to the inner workings of the company. There, Iso Padre’s CQ-80 should show you at least some of the way around. Ideally, enough for you to acquire a CQ-80 of your own. Then, you’ll make your way to the repair facility, and it should automatically repair it for you.” He paused.

“Then we come back? ” Pixel asked. C.Q. nodded.

“Once that’s done, you should be able to finally request a station in Inkopolis and find your way home.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Harmony lied. Whilst the concept itself was simplistic, from her singular encounter with entire lances of salt, she knew the process would entail more than the directions.

 “Please be careful. Failure to watch your step could prove fatal if you were to contact a third rail.” C.Q. scrunched up as he spoke and almost seemed to shiver. Faint, but still prevalent. Harmony doubted it was just because of the cold.  

“I guess the danger has really… amped up.” Her delivery was so pathetic that she couldn’t even look at anyone after saying it. But C.Q. Cumber at least straightened out again, losing the shake. Maybe C.Q. has a sense of humor? She prayed.

“Yes, it has. These rails carry 1600 amps at 750 volts.” C.Q. swayed their head towards the open doors. “Please, do be careful.”

Padre pressed himself up off his seat. “It was funny, if not extremely morbid.”

“I’m not proud of it either.” So much for trying to make the best of a bad situation. Harmony slid her backpack off, making sure everything was still in there. Snacks, blanket, first aid kit, her meds, old consoles if she got bored, and repair kits for said consoles. She breathed a sigh of relief when everything seemed to be in place. 

“Are you ready?” Iso Padre asked, straightening out his own cane and briefcase. It was a tad odd, seeing it devoid of its usual stuffed animals, and perhaps even more sad when Harmony gave it a bit more thought.

“I guess…” Harmony stretched her hands out in front of her. “I might as well be if I’m ever gonna go home.”

“Then let’s go.” His fingers ran across the top of his cane, running over the metal etchings. It was a small detail she noticed, how the tips of his fingers tarnished the silver cap. Seeing the small effect of just one movement. Her reverie was broken once Padre hesitantly took his first few steps onto the platform, calling back. “Look after them for me, C.Q. Cumber!” 

“No harm will befall your plush friends. You have my word.”

“I’ll be forever in your debt.”

“Consider it your due payment, Padre. For offering your benevolence all these years.”

Padre stilled for just a moment, turning his head back to him. “I’m delighted that you accepted such. I’ll be back soon.”

“I hope so.”

Padre finally took his first few steps off the train and down onto the walkway. Harmony trailed slowly behind, offering C.Q. Cumber a final wave before her hands found their way to her backpack straps. There, they traced the stray embroidery she'd stitched in years ago.

Among the things Harmony first noticed was the ground. Just beyond the slope of the platform, it had changed from eroded concrete to pure gravel. Time had seemed to chisel into the very foundation, chipping away sharp stones that crunched when she walked upon them. The worn ground was only broken up by the dark shape of rails, the metal almost glimmering in the dark. 

The faint smell of salt still lingered, but it wasn't the astringent assault that she was expecting. Instead it lurked, an underlying smell to the mildewy safety posters and faulty electricity.

However, when she drifted her gaze upwards, the sight stunned her. Just through the gateway, a lavender sky swallowed every corner of her vision. No matter how far up or down her eyes moved, Harmony never caught sight of the horizon. Only the churning, swirling shades of violet. They were adorned with stars, twinkling in the darkness. But these stars moved, stirring themselves into shifting constellations. None that Harmony was familiar with either.

In the distance, there seemed to be islands dangling in the sky by invisible threads. Large masses of dull and rusted metal, sluggishly shedding bits and pieces of scrap into the expanse above. The pieces floated every which way, swimming across the infinite swath of color.

“It could be rain if it weren’t so slow…”

“Rain?” 

Harmony blinked herself out of her wonder again and looked back at Iso Padre, who was standing by another train just a bit away.

“Yeah, doesn’t it kinda look like it could be slow rain?” She raised her hand, pointing at the descending scrap metal. “With the way it’s falling and everything.”

Iso Padre sighed, looking down over the walkway’s edge, watching as the rubble plummeted into the infinite sea of lavender beneath them. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Wait, what?”

He shook his head. “Those phenomena remain a mystery to me, for I have never seen the sky.”

“Then what are we looking at right now?”

“That’s the ocean.” He gestured up towards a bright constellation, just beside the crooked mess of metal. It shifted, from a sword, to a ship, to seas and sails, until finally it completely dissipated, leaving a purple shadow. “Those are bioluminescent plankton."

Suddenly, it clicked in her brain. The patterns that lined the sky were being painted by the crashing of tides above them. Plankton was drifting through the waters, making thousands of shapes as they swam. Looking down, she could see that the light refracted down on her skin in a web-like pattern, ever dancing across the floor.

“Woah…” Harmony turned her hand over, seeing the pattern turn and twist around each knuckle. It played with the pinkish lights on her skin, which bowed and shifted as she moved, splaying out into a spider web of fractal patterns. 

It seemed strange that the lavender sky could create a pink color. Especially when all the lights around them seemed to be their own green-tinged hue. The plankton couldn't either; they were adorned in pure white. Come to think of it, the only pink thing she could really notice was herself…

Wait… As Harmony moved her hand closer, it became clear. Rising the faintest bit above her pale skin were timid rays of pastel pink. They splayed across the ait, fading Harmony gasped.

“Padre, am I glowing?!”

“I was waiting to see if you’d notice.” He let out a chuckle before walking to her side. “You’re an anemone, correct?”

“Last time I checked?” She turned her head up to Pixel. “I’m an anemone, right?”

Pixel made their closest approximation of a shrug and then started typing. “I think your special is ready.”

“You’re a great help. I just hope it’s not Ink Storm. Those are a pain to clean up.” She rolled her eyes before turning back to Padre. “Uh… Bubble-tip… I think. I just know that my last name is derivative of it.”

“Oh, what is it?”

“Acmaea.”

“Oh. Must be one of those old human things.” He shrugged, tapping his cane once against the ground before moving along to the slope of another platform with the slumbering form of another train. 

“That doesn’t explain why I’m glowing, though!” Suddenly, the hard tap of steel crashed against her toes, and Harmony fell forward, barely catching herself with her other leg. Looking down, it was a spare rail cutting through their path. She winced as C.Q. Cumber’s warning briefly flashed through her mind.

“Wayfarer!” She looked up at Iso Padre, quickly racing to her side. “Thank the Commander that the rail wasn’t active.”

It wasn’t hard to pick herself up, considering she never entirely fell. But even the hint of her end was enough to make her already turbulent anxieties rocket. She felt hyper-aware of her surroundings now, the crackling the rain of rubble made, the snapping sound of electrical sparks, the air heavy with the smell of ozone, dust, mold and who knows what else. “I can’t wait to leave.”

 “For your own sake, me too.” The two of them stepped off the rail, continuing their path. This time, being extra careful of anything even remotely electric. Yet, with how strained her senses were at this point, it was all melded together into one sensory mess. 

Harmony followed quickly, somewhat more aware of the ground before her. “I guess I might as well start glowing… Why not?”

Iso Padre walked through the doors of another train car, the dim lighting unsuccessful in chasing away the gloom. “There’s nothing wrong with being pink. I’ve grown fond of the color myself.”

Harmony was able to hop through right after Padre. The faint pink glow dwindled, suffocating under the harsh lights of the subway. “Oh, there it goes…” For as brief as it was, she was saddened to see the glow go.

“It’ll be back when you step off the train.” A familiar voice called. Harmony turned her head towards it, seeing none other than C.Q. Cumber slink towards them. She tilted her head ever so slightly.

“Wait… uh. Ok. Hold on.” She pulled on her tentacles once again as she spoke. “Weren’t you just—”

C.Q. sighed as if this was a regular question he’d been asked. “There’s multiple of us. We’re all a hivemind. I know everything you told the other one.”

“Okay. Well, that answers half of my questions.” She tugged down on her tentacle, feeling it pull on her scalp. “But, uh, why am I glowing?”

“Biofluorescence.” He slinked past them both and stuck his head out the conductor door. C.Q.’s own skin began to shine, with indigo radiating off of him. Then, he flicked his head, and Harmony swore she saw it sparkle. He looked like the sky in the train yard, full of twinkling stars that casted dappling flecks of color. But, he soon dipped back into the train, and the glow was washed out. “Some of our bodies change UV light into visible light. And as the lights keep aging, they emit more and more for us to absorb.”

“You two are always so fascinating,” Padre said as he sank into another seat.  “Sometimes I wish I could glow.”

“I wish I came with armor,” Harmony joked as she sat beside him. “Seems a lot more convenient.”

“Glowing is also convenient in a place as dark as this.”

“Yeah.” Harmony shrugged. “Guess the surface is too bright for me to ever tell.”

Iso Padre picked his glasses off his face, and took his handkerchief out to polish them. His voice hushed, and he slid them both back on. “There are some sights you can never see from so high in the sky.”

What’s that supposed to mean? Harmony was going to ask, but just as the sentence started to form in her brain, the entire train car shuddered as the previously dim lights snapped to brightness. All the gloom in the carriage was quickly replaced with harshly lit grime and wear. If the trains were all asleep before, is this one waking up? Shaking off the gravel and gunk before it marched to wherever the next stop would be.

What was worse was the electrical whine that broke the previous silence, scathing and grating. A mechanical yawn filled the entire train car with echoes of the sound. She couldn’t decide which she preferred, the harsh reality or the hazy gloom.

But that yawn turned into a scream. A piercing scream reverberated between every sheet of steel. Harmony slapped her hands over her ears as her thinking cranked into overdrive as she started to babble. Incoherent strings of words like “Holy Carp…” and “What the shell was that?” If Pixel talked, Harmony was confident they would say the same.

“Do not worry, young ones,” Padre calmly stated. “For all its unnerving sound, that is merely the train’s whistle.” He paused, “I believe that means we’ll be departing soon.”

As if Iso Padre himself were the maestro, the apparent whistle chose that moment to cut off, and the previous whine increased. With a lurch, the train began to move. Slowly at first, but as the carriages exited the depot, with its fractal light and calm glow, the train quickly picked up speed as it entered the maw of the dark tunnels of the subway. 

Her stomach lurched in time, making her gag and choke on the stifling air. Her breath filled her lungs with a gasp before exiting in a wheeze. 

The banging of points and motors straining to move reluctant carriages steadily faded into the background as the train started its long journey into the lonely dark in earnest. 

Harmony noticed none of these, instead still pressing her hands against the sides of her head. Her tentacles, one by one, flared up above her head, bristling up against the skin of her neck and pressing up against the glass. 

A gentle hand slid over her shoulder, and Harmony practically dived away from the feeling, slamming her back against the handlebars in an attempt to leave. She let out a hiss of pain, but it was worth it to hopefully get away.

“Wayfarer? Are you alright?

Despite all of her groans, Harmony managed to croak out a “Y-yeah.”

Padre’s head tilted. “Are you sure?”

“Yup,” Is what she said, but Harmony almost certainly didn't mean it. She at least had the sense to gather all her tentacles in her hands before they made too big of a mess out of things. “Totally fine. Awesome, even.”

She couldn't bring her voice to match the feeling she was trying to show. But it wasn't like she was trying to convince Padre of anything. Instead, she took the moment to even out her breathing.

Padre sighed, and Harmony could feel the vague judgmental stare on him. Well, chances are he didn't have one, but from behind his dark shades, it was hard to tell. 

“If you insist. But I believe it was you, dear wayfarer, who shared that one shouldn't be sorry for how they feel.”

“Heh… I guess…” She started to almost wring out her tentacles, squeezing and pulling them as she let out a sigh. “I’m just… not having the time of my life. If that wasn't already abundantly clear. I just… Auughhhh.”

The words didn’t form the second half of the sentence; Harmony could only find a way to groan. She squeezed her tentacles out of anger but winced at the incoming pain.

“I had a hunch.” He said. “But I’d like to apologize. It was not right of me to assume that you were okay with physical touch. I will be sure to ask in the future.”

Harmony wanted to cry, which honestly confused her even more. She was experiencing a whole mess of emotions, all of which boiled up against the sides of her head in a pounding rhythm. “Really?”

“Of course. I can only imagine what your body and brain are telling you. I should have never assumed what it was saying.”

“Woah…” Her eyes began to water. Not exactly crying, but just about. She released her tentacles, placing them over the shoulder opposite to Padre. Then, she brought up her knees, hugging them tight to her chest, feeling them squish against her body. That evened her breathing enough to where she could reply. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. Is there anything you need?” He asked. 

Whilst she was still wrapped in a thin veil of unease, Harmony couldn’t really think of any one thing that could really be done. 

Instead, she leaned over, bumping the two of their shoulders together. “I’ll be alright.”

She felt, for the first time since she arrived, a bubble of safety. She tuned out the sounds and sights around her as the train continued its lonely vigil into the dark.

HEY EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS ART WAXSUYAAA ON TUMBLR MADE OF THIS CHAPTER HOLY SHIT IM SO HONORED. LOOK AT IT! LOOK AT IT NOW! THANK YOU SO MUCH BRO I'LL TREASURE IT FOREVER 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Chapter Text

 l“...But that’s the thing. We haven’t found out anything about some of those artists!” Harmony practically had to take a breath after spouting out everything. Behind her, the train was moving at it’s normal pace, though no stops had come up for a while

“So someone has the songs, but no one knows who wrote them?” Iso Padre replied, clearly invested in everything she was saying.

“Yeah. And it’s different from just DJ Real Sole. Like we know that they want to stay private. Like, we have anonymous blog posts from them. But we don’t know anything about the person who wrote the songs for the In Memoriam mod.” 

“Do you know who made the mod?”

“I… Okay. So there’s an issue. The mod is entirely in Octarian. And not in the Splatlandian dialect that I’m used to. It's like, traditional old-style Octarian. So it’s completely different.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I think it’d be wrong to call it a dialect. Language in the Splatlands is likely much different than you think.”

“Oh yeah…” She slumped her head into her. “You’re probably right, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Point is: I can’t read anything in that mod. So I thought maybe I’d translate it. So I was able to find an online translator for Octarian. The creators name translated to ‘Musician Very Fresh’ and I was able to get a few other things too.”

“What kind of other things?”

“Well, starting easy, I was able to find out the name basically translates to In Memoriam or a similarly used phrase—”

“I’d hate to interrupt,” Harmony quickly fell silent when she heard C.Q.’s voice. “but it seems that a request just came in from someone’s CQ-80. We will reach a stop in a few stations.”

“Oh… Umm… Ok…” She turned her head to Pixel, refocusing herself. “You ready, buddy?”

They dove back downwards, finishing off the small dish of water that Harmony had laid out on the train seat for him, before returning to her side with a nod.

Harmony slid it back into the front pocket of her backpack, zipping it up as she looked around for anything else she could have left back on her seat. After grabbing a few miscellaneous wrappers, and shoving them back into her backpack, she relaxed her shoulders, and slid it back on.

“I think I’m ready. Padre, how about you?”

He stood up, and his joints gave their signature crack. Harmony watched as his fingers curled around his cane, grazing over the etching once more. But, he kept his other arms crossed around his body. “I believe so. Is your companion prepared as well?”

She turned her gaze back towards them. “You sure about this? I won’t blame you if you wanna back out here.”

They immediately shook their head, eliciting a small chuckle from Harmony. “Alrighty buddy, but you can’t blame me for this one, m’kay?”

Pixel merely seemed to roll their eyes, and nestle closer into Harmony’s head.

“I suppose we’re all ready then,” Iso Padre stated. Just in time for the familiar whine of straining engines and squealing brakes to ring out, twisting Harmony’s stomach with it’s wail. Just beneath their feet, the train began to slow.

By the time the train stopped, the feeling had already grown familiar to Harmony. She barely even had to look to guess when the doors would open. She did, however, have to look, to make sure she didn’t walk into the seats. With a sigh, she took her first step out of the door.

Her eyes were immediately met with her own warm glow, gently illuminating the path where the half-dead lights failed. 

Behind her, she heard a bit of a groan as Iso Padre stepped off the train, hiccuping when his feet hit the ground. Her steps slowed, and she waited just a second for him to reach her side.

“Ah, no need to worry about me, wayfarer. My old legs just aren’t used to carrying me this far.”

Suddenly, Harmony felt the need to worry. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course!” He laughed. “I used to be a strapping young lad myself! I still have some fight left in me!”

“If you say so.” Harmony shrugged, and looked over Padre once more. She noted the twitch in his whiskers, the slight tremor in his hands, but ultimately dropped the subject, and faced forward once again. 

Now, she could take a good look at the station they had gotten off at. It was fairly well kept, at least compared to the other stations. The ground was at least a more stable concrete, only showing partial signs of decay that the others did. Though, the electricity seemed to be a bit finicky, to say the least. 

Exposed wires swam up the walls like eels, sparking once every few seconds in a blaze. They’d be gone within a second, but their impressions burnt colors into her vision. As her gaze trailed along their path, Harmony could see they latched onto hanging lights. Each one was dim, crackling whenever a new set of sparks went off. Almost like the Great Zapfish back home. But where the Zapfish was all dopey smiles and Splatfest lights, the writhing wires snapped and popped, warning her of danger.

She waited a moment for Iso Padre to meet her side. 

“Ah… It seems this whole network is falling into disrepair…” He sighed. There was an ache to his voice as if the words had caught in his throat. “No matter, let us move forward.”

Harmony extended her arm. “Lead the way.”

Padre chuckled, stepping in front of Harmony. “Only if you light it, wayfarer.”

With a roll of her eyes, and a faint twitch of a smile, Harmony let herself walk forward, letting the both of them watch as the rosy hues quietly scrubbed away the dark. Iso Padre took to walking a few steps in front, his gaze swaying all around, studying the scene in front of them.

Behind them, the train chimed as its doors rattled shut, which in turn brought the whine of motors that blended into a howling wind. Stagnant air was forced out of tunnels as the train departed, blowing both a stale smell into her nose and her tentecles into her eyes. They waved in the fading wind, stinging her eyes when she didn't close them in time.

A shake of her head was enough to sort them back into place, and several aggressive blinks were enough to clear her eyes of the sting. Just in time to see the final dregs of the train's tail lights fade away.

Now, in the shade, the old lines of wires began to morph, twisting into dense tangled forests along the walls of the corridors. In the dark, the sparks became even more pronounced, with flashes of arctic blue and white that dazzled her already strained eyes. Even in the thick shadow, there seemed to at least be enough to keep Harmony glowing somewhat as they walked down the long corridor. 

Each step echoed off of the solid walls, and Harmony would be lying if the resonance didn't irk her. The longer they walked, the more the train platform turned into a tunnel, and the more cavernous it became. 

“Do you know where we’re going from here?” Harmony whispered. Why she was whispering, she didn't know.  Anything else seemed almost rude. Like something just beyond them was caught in a slumber and they had to go through every effort not to wake it. 

Iso Padre merely shook his head and whispered back. “Perhaps we can see if the facility's map is in working order.”

Out of his pocket he pulled the dull hunk of plastic, and began pressing a few of the buttons. The holographic screen popped up as it did once before. Still, the projection was damaged, showing little improvement in its appearance on the train. Most of the shapes were still fragmented, as random splashes of color and fritzing static splaying across the walls. Harmony felt conflicted, the colorful display, while a welcome change from the bleak corridor, was dizzying. 

“You could make a sick album cover out of this…” 

“Pardon?” 

“Nothing.” Harmony shook her head, trying to focus on the contents of the CQ-80s projection rather than its saturated colors. It bore some resemblance to the previous map, with its nearly organized shapes and what appeared to be words. But the previous map showed the abstract lines of color representing the various underground train lines. This new display seemed to be a bird’s-eye view of several rooms.

As seemed to be the standard in this place however, Harmony could see clear signs of abandonment and decay. Corridors and doors that lead into blank patches of map, walls shifting and contorting, as well as entire rooms which seemed to move positions.

She turned to Iso Padre who seemed to be studying the map with equal scrutiny, though with his glasses it was hard to tell exactly what he was looking at. As he began to move the cursor between the various rooms, he sighed. 

 “As expected, it seems as if the CQ-80 is having trouble reading this map as well.”

He continued to move the cursor around every error on the map. Every flick of his finger on the trigger compounded the static, dissolving entire areas into masses of glitched text, distorted lines and fuzzy blocks. Only the rooms immediately surrounding them remained stable, their stark lines stubbornly remaining in place.

As they continued to study the map, some form of pop up seemed to display. Nestled away in the corner, away from the glitching mass. Not that it was any more legible to Harmony; its foreign script appeared as a swirling stencil that could have been cursive if not for the miniscule places between the letters. Much different from the blocky script she was used to.

“Hey… uh, Padre?” She pointed to the stencil. “What does that say?”

Iso Padre took a second to adjust his glasses before answering. 

“Hmmm… It’s a little fuzzy, but it seems like a request.” He cleared his throat before answering.

 “‘Error 403 - Server response: Device blocked due to abnormal requests. Please return to—’ well this next word is a bit staticy too ‘— please return to the system administrator and exchange the device for a new Employee Certified CQ-80…’ ” He paused, looking at the map again, “It appears one of the rooms nearby has been highlighted for us…”

Past several glitching boxes, indeed, a stable room was highlighted in white, pulsing to alert them to its presence.

“Employee certification?”

“It must think we're workers.”

Harmony scrunched her face in confusion. “Weird… Not really good on the security policy here if it just assumes we're employees.”

“It is the way of things here. We put our trust in Kamabo, and in return, Kamabo would extend trust to us.” Padre sighed.

“I’m also just gonna guess that Mr. Cumber doesn't usually let people just waltz onto a company train very often.”

He exhaled a bit through his nostrils, humorously acknowledging the statement. “No, and I've been pestering him for years!” He wheezed out another giggle, but the silence came quickly after. “I believe the best will come if we follow it.”

Harmony couldn't laugh back. “You sure this isn't another one of those crab traps?”

Padre’s face fell, and with a sigh, it seemed he lost the final bit of the jolly feeling. “Even if it is, it would be good to supply you with your own CQ-80. Especially with the opportunity for an employee model.”

Ever the master of conversation, Harmony replied. “But…?”

He sighed, and his whiskers twitched again. “But… this entire process still irks me. We're practically marching down the gullet of this beast just to find its stomach.”

Harmony tilted her head. “If it’s that hard for you, I can go on my own.”

He shook his head furiously. It startled Harmony; this was the first time an action of his could even be considered as such. “No… No. I can’t let you, wayfarer. Not again. Not this time.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He nodded, strengthening his grip on the CQ-80. “Besides, someone will need to read the script for you. Now, come along. Let’s see where they’re guiding us.”

She sighed, but ultimately took to Iso Padre’s side once more.

The first few steps were easy, soon falling into the monotony of stepping over wires, and gently pushing aside crates.

Harmony was sure to keep an eye on Padre though. When something felt miniscule to her, she could look over and see him struggling. He hesitated to plant his cane on occasion, lagging behind a few steps as Harmony walked on.

The accessibility of this place leaves much to be desired. She didn’t know what she expected from the ruins, but it still upset her. Kamabo didn’t exactly seem like the pinnacle of workplace accomodation to her so far.

Harmony was careful to take her steps a bit slower after that, pushing aside all the debris she could so he could get some stable footing. 

Pixel seemingly had the same idea, gently pushing away any dangling wires that could hit either Harmony or Iso Padre as they walked. He gave them both a small smile in thanks. 

Soon enough, the hallway led into another room. It seemed akin to a waiting room. Benches lined the walls, with the exception of the wall in front of them. That one was painted a stark white. In the center stood the Kamabo logo, painted in a synthetic aqua. Beneath rested a pair of sliding doors.

But surrounding both of them on either side, four images of Octarians were plastered up on the wall. Standing silently like sentinels, unmoving and unemotive. Their gazes passed straight through Harmony, boring holes into the walls. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at whatever the faces were directed towards, instead studying the posters themselves. 

Each one varied just slightly from the last, showing a kind of transition between each of the soldiers. Just above them, the foreign writing was visible once more.

“Hey, Padre.” Harmony gently tapped on his shoulder. “What does that say?”

He looked up from his CQ-80, taking a pair of hands to adjust his glasses once more. Another hand shakily rose, and pointed towards the first Octarian. On their face, they wore a grimace and over their eyes they donned a visor, lit up in red. 

“That one… it reads ‘See Kamabo.’” His hand drifted to the next. A similar Octarian but this one had their tentacles tied back, revealing their ears. Ear buds were nestled in them, flashing with red lights, just as the visor was. “This one… well, the words are faded, but I think it’s ‘Hear Kamabo.’”

Harmony could guess what the next one said. “Speak Kamabo?”

However, it didn’t appear that way. The Octoling looked identical to the other two, but in their hands, they held a glass filled with a similarly teal liquid. It was raised to their lips. But regardless, Padre responded.

“No, no, no.” Padre shook his head as he spoke, and slid a hand across the seams of his exoskeleton, wicking away beads of sweat that leaked through. “That’s not it. Speak is a much shorter word in this language, and it utilizes completely different sounds. And it isn’t talk—that's the same word here. Your assumption would make sense…”

Iso Padre let out a heave, realizing he'd wandered far from his initial point. “It says accept Kamabo.”

“Oh.” Harmony spoke. She patted down her tentacles preemptively as she listened further. But her imagination worked faster, fitting in all kinds of different meanings to what exactly that meant, and what exactly the next word could mean.

Shifting her gaze to the final painting, Harmony noticed the Octoling appeared completely different. Their skin, rather than the neutral tan they donned in the other two, was completely lime green, their tentacles a cool blue. In their hands, rather than the glass, they wielded what appeared to be a modified Splattershot. Rather than the colorful plastic tubing she'd seen around the city, it was sleek and black, no doubt made of plexiglass and metal instead.

I think those ones do a bit more than splatting…

Maybe what caught them all off guard was their stance. Looking back, the previous soldiers were standing at attention, but each one stood with a difference. 

The first had their head turned up towards the ceiling. Almost like their visor allowed them to look straight through it, and up to the sky. Their hands lay at their side, unnaturally so. Something ticked Harmony, telling her that this soldier was holding back the urge to reach up. To grab the stars between their hands and weave nebulas around their fingers.

The second’s head was turned down, staring at the stained tiles beneath them. Their ears were flicked down, and Harmony could see how their hands lay limply at their side. They didn't break formation, but their hands curled around nothing. 

The third looked worried almost. A slight crease in their eyebrows—Pixel would sometimes do the same when Harmony stayed up too late. And their hands latched onto the cup like a vice. Any more force, and Harmony was convinced the painting would somehow shatter. 

All of which only made the final one the most uncanny. Each of their features was the exact default, not too dissimilar to how Harmony expressed. But the key was in their body. They leaned forward, eyeing Harmony like a predator. At any second they could pounce out of the wall, and paint the entire floor in radioactive sludge. 

Pixel shuddered and shook out their fins.

Padre pointed to the final soldier. “It… It says ‘believe Kamabo.’” 

A bristle raced through her nerves, prickling and poking the skin all over her body.

Iso Padre’s shell clacked again, bringing Harmony’s attention towards him. She watched as his head lowered, rolling in on himself just like the small mem cake he had. 

“This… What happened to them?” His voice faltered, straining over each vowel. Two clatters followed as his cane and his CQ-80 fell to the floor. Each of Padre’s arms wrapped around himself. “What has Kamabo been doing?”

Harmony crouched down, picking up his cane and CQ-80 for him. “Padre?”

He didn’t seem to hear what she said, instead breathing through gritted teeth. 

“I… I need to know…” Harmony offered his cane back, which he gratefully took. He tapped it on the ground, straightening his posture before ambling forward, planting his cane with every step. 

Within moments, he reached the door across from them. Harmony pressed herself back up to stand, before crossing the room to be beside him once again. 

“Hey, Padre?” Her hand found its way down to his shoulder. “Is… are you… alright?”

He shook his head. 

“No, no. I’m not.” A breath fell out of his mouth, and his head dipped a bit lower. “Do you see that final octopus? The one with skin like malachite?”

Harmony let herself look back at the fourth Octoling, letting her gaze fall onto it for a second. Their gaze was still, hidden behind the shades that were placed upon them. But the face they donned was almost… silent. As if they had nothing to say besides the words painted above them. As she looked further she was reminded of a marionette, slack except for the strings, or muscles in this case, holding it up.

She turned back to Padre, unable to shake the foreboding feeling, and nodded.

“I’ve seen ones like them before. A few, perhaps, riding the train cars I frequented…” 

He fell silent. Harmony was merely left to build the rest of the context. Green skin? That didn’t seem that abnormal, at least, not to her. Orion had green skin, after all. But she had to agree that the color on the wall was… unlively. Both vibrant and pale, marbling together in such a way that it never seemed to stay consistent across their skin.

With a sigh, Iso Padre continued. “But the most common place I encountered them were the tests.”

“The tests?”

“Although I completed only a few, I remember many where you had to fight them.” Harmony watched as one of his fists clenched against the fabric of his suit. “Those tests, I washed out on. I couldn’t hurt them. I could never bring myself to. The ways they ruthlessly threw themselves at the trial subjects…”

He trailed off again, but Harmony was able to conjure up the visual. Surrounded by a lavender sky, machinery floating across the air. Watching as Octolings marched towards her, each brandishing weapons that would never be allowed in turf wars. Imagining them dance around her, throwing shot after shot, bomb after bomb with unyielding strength. 

She could only imagine what it was truly like.

“There were many occasions where I dropped my weapon, curling up into a ball instead of fighting back. I remember some of them had the mercy to kick me back into the train car.” Her body shuddered at the thought. “Heh… at least I have my carapace… I’d imagine that… that others could have benefitted from that…”

What little composure he seemed to have fell apart that very moment

Iso Padre let out fractured gasp, which sounded almost like a sob, and curled almost completely in on himself. His legs could barely support him anymore, shaking with every broken breath he inhaled. 

Harmony froze, her hands flopped over in front of her. Seeing him crumble like this… It felt like a grand event. Even if the time they spent together was brief, he just struck her as such a pillar of strength. He was nothing short of a guardian, and watching him fall caused something to crack inside Harmony. Her hands trembled, shaking as if something deep within her core caused them to. 

Pixel swam from her head towards Padre, and Harmony quickly followed. She didn’t think, exactly, and she wasn’t sure Pixel did either. They swam up to his cheek, gently nuzzling beside his whisker-like antennae. 

Harmony was a bit more hesitant, but still closed a bit of distance between them. Her arms moved outwards in an offer that she didn’t even think about making. 

As soon as she realized her own offer, Iso Padre had taken it. Five arms wrapped around her torso, and the last one gently cradled Pixel against his cheek. Harmony returned the gesture, draping her arms over his shoulders.

This time, he truly sobbed, shaking against the two of them as his breath rattled. 

She watched as his antennae twitched with each gasp he made. Pixel would gently nuzzle them every time. 

As the seconds lead on, Padre’s cries seemed to ebb, carefully turning from sobs back into sniffles. Harmony gently traced the stickers that donned the very armor that he wore. It carried the same calming feeling as her own DS did. Feeling the slight change in texture between the worn plates of his exoskeleton and the surface of the stickers.

His antennae twitched one final time before he finally released Harmony and Pixel. 

She took a hesitant step back, giving Padre just a tad bit more space, but keeping one hand loosely on his shoulder. Pixel seemed to do the same, drawing back just between the two of them.

“Thank you two…” His hands reached up to his glasses, pulling them off his face with a slow, practiced motion. “I’m grateful to be with ones as kind as you.”

Harmony merely gave him a small smile. She’s almost certain it came across as weak, but she paid it no mind. 

Padre brought up another hand to wipe at the streaks his tears left. 

“Apologies once again. I know this is all unfamiliar territory for the both of you, but I’m afraid I know this story all too well.” Padre turned his head back towards the mural beside them. “Seeing this made me realize something. The toys I’ve crafted… all for the young ones who’ve wandered onto our fateful train. Well…”

He raised his hand to the final soldier, with their marbled malachite skin.

“I’ve realized… They became those soldiers, didn’t they? Their bright souls and fighting spirits… they…” The hand he used to wipe his tears dropped limply to his side. “Kamabo turned them into phantoms of who they were. I… I thought they ran away… Or maybe they finally found their way home.”

Harmony’s hand squeezed his shoulder, trying to assure him as best as she could manage. “It’s good that you had hope.”

“I suppose… Though it seems almost worthless now… With all of them gone, just like that.” He picked up his cane which he unwittingly dropped earlier, and straightened his back taller than he had before. “But, that’s not so true. After all, had I lost hope, I may have never stayed to help you.”

“Oh…” Was the only thing Harmony could really get out. “Thanks, Padre.”

“Of course.” He smiled, though it was overrun with a sorrowful slack in his posture. “I’m glad my hope wasn’t for nothing, at least.” 

“Well...” She started, bringing a hand up to scratch her neck. “Me too. I think I’d be lost without you right now… So, uh, thanks. A lot.”

Harmony dipped her head in an awkward bow towards him. 

And Padre actually laughed. A nice hearty laugh, warming up the frigid room around them just a bit. He stood up a bit straighter, and spoke once more. “No need for such formalities, child. It’s my responsibility as your elder.”

“I mean… even so, it’s still nice to respect you.” Harmony replied. Even if it was at her expense, it was just nice to hear him laugh. “I just… appreciate you. A lot, actually.”

“I appreciate you too, wayfarer.” He brought up a hand to gently pat at her back. “You’ve brought a light that I haven’t seen in six years.”

“Wait a sec, but… didn’t you say bioluminescence… or something… was common down here?”

“I was referring to your spirit, young one.”

“Oh… Thanks…” Harmony almost dipped down again, but caught herself at the last second. Instead she settled for kind of flashing him a thumbs up.

Iso Padre gave her a smile in response, and mimicked her gesture. To the best of his ability, of course, lacking thumbs and all.

It seemed the two of them shared a mutual smile, though for both of them, it quickly faltered. Padre stood, opening and closing his mouth for several moments, until he finally broke the silence.

“Wayfarer… I’m… not too sure how to say this…”

Harmony tilted her head a bit, slightly confused as to what he’d say. But despite that, she blurted out a response.

“You think you’re going to turn back soon?” She didn’t know why she said it. There was barely even any conscious thought behind the words that fell out of her mouth.

Padre turned his gaze downward when she said that, but nodded nonetheless. “How… how did you…?”

“It wasn’t that hard to really guess.” Harmony quickly followed up. Well, now that she was actually thinking about her own thoughts, she could figure out why she said that. “I can tell these ruins are weighing on you… and not just physically.”

“Yes… that would be the case. After we harvest a staff CQ-80, I believe I may have to turn back…” A pair of hands moved to scratch between the plates of his exoskeleton. Salty crust scraped off in flakes. “Although, I do have to admit, I was under the impression I was being rather subtle about it.”

“Well, you were. But I felt something was off… Over the years, Pixel has taught me a few things.” She shrugged. Pixel swam by her, to which Harmony gave him a small scratch behind his fin. “It’s something we struggled with for a while, still do, if I’m not lying… But anyway. I’ve learned that not all communication is verbal. Just like how Pixel doesn’t talk, you didn’t really need to.”

Padre finally returned his glasses to his face, giving a short, dry laugh as he did. “Symbiosis! How could I forget? You two never cease to amaze me, wayfarer.”

Harmony couldn’t help but flick her head downward, and start the familiar task of tugging at her fingers. “Well, Pixel and I are far from perfect partners… When… Well, when we first met each other, I was kind of—well really neglectful. I had such a hard time understanding anything other than direct instructions, but since, uh, Pixel doesn’t talk, that went downhill almost immediately.”

“But look at how far you two have come since then! You’re quite an effective pair. And look, you’ve both improved! You were able to pick up on my cues immediately, and Pixel is able to help you out in return!”

“Well, not immediately. It still took me a long moment to really... uh...” Looking up to Pixel, Harmony sighed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right…”

Padre gave Harmony a big smile, revealing a few of his teeth. “Never underestimate yourself, wayfarer.”

Before Harmony could really formulate a response, he took one step forward, just to the sliding doors were in reach. He stretched out his top two rows of hands, and pushed the two doors apart with a shocking ease. A kind of ease that made Harmony reconsider either the strength of Padre himself, or the weakness of the door in front of her.

He turned his head towards her. “Will you light the way, wayfarer?”

Harmony couldn’t suppress her giggle at the repetition of the phrase. “Only if you lead it, Padre.”

Chapter Text

Compared to the rooms she’d been walking through the entire time, the hallway the three of them traversed through was completely barren. Ash-gray walls, stained pink by Harmony’s glow. Featureless linoleum floors, coated in a dusty film. 

“You think a facility this big would at least learn how to prevent sprawling…” Harmony chided. “It’s like the suburbs in here.”

A gentle splash came when her foot landed in a puddle. She looked up, hoping it was just a pipe and not the ocean she’d seen in the train depot. But the dark gray of the walls pooled above her, rendering the ceiling impossible to see, even with her glow.

“If I had to guess,” Padre interrupted her staring contest with the ceiling, looking up from the holographic map he was studying. “Hallways were merely an afterthought, when the metro could ferry people between facilities.”

“I mean. I guess…” Harmony shrugged. “How often was it that a CQ-80 needed repair anyway?”

“I was unaware there existed a repair facility until C.Q. Cumber brought it up.” Padre admitted. “We were only ever issued replacements.”

“Sounds kinda wasteful.”

“Oh. It probably was.” He shrugged. “We only seemed to notice once they stopped issuing replacements. Around the same time Eight left.”

“Do… do you think they were related?”

“Everything seems to be related to that Octopus when it comes down to it.” He said. “They’ve gone down in history. At least, in my history.”

“Hm. Must be pretty hard being them.” Harmony idly replied, not really saying it to anyone other than herself. Everything she heard about Agent Eight just made the prospect of them seem almost surreal. One person somehow took down the entire company she was currently stuck in. A company that seemed closer to a state than a mere business. One person. She shuddered at the thought.

“I’d imagine. They were subject to more than most.”

“Glad they got out alright, at least.” It gave Harmony a modicum of hope. She might not be as good of a… well, anything, as Eight seemed to be. But at least it wasn’t impossible.

“Me too. At least there’s one. Perhaps I should go and see them someday.” He remarked. “Oh, we should take the next left.”

Harmony’s face scrunched at the new information. With a sigh, she held out both her hands, forming an L shape with her index fingers and thumbs. 

Iso Padre spared her the effort and took his free left hand, and pointed it outwards. “That way.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

“Of course.” Padre replied. A few seconds later, the three of them took the turn. “Do you often have trouble with that?”

“Every time, pretty much. Pixel usually has to pick up the slack.”

“Have you tried using the hand you write wi-”

“Yes.” Harmony groaned. “I only think of it as my writing hand, not in terms of directions.”

“Oh, well.” Iso Padre shrugged. “Guess I can help you for the time being.”

The two of them fell into silence after that. 

“Ah, cod. Sorry, I just realized how mean I sounded there.” She groaned again, but more to herself this time. “I really need to get better at that.”

“It’s alright.” Iso Padre assured. “It wasn’t as if I asked if the advice would be accepted.”

“I mean, I guess… It still feels mean though.” 

“Well, at least you’re self aware, wayfarer. It’s a great skill.” Iso Padre ducked under a stray wire, carefully reading the map. “Though sometimes, things really are what they seem.”

Harmony felt her eyes roll before she even consciously knew. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to.”

“Augh, you sound like a language teacher.” Stepping over another sparking wire, the both of them came face to face with a pair of sliding doors. “Next you're gonna start asking me for like… textual evidence… or something.”

Iso Padre chuckled as the electricity around them gently whirled. Whilst sluggish, the doors did eventually open on their own, the metal squeaking and squelching over the ground. “I certainly can. Please, provide three examples as to how I am akin to a Language Arts Professor.”

“Mmnngghh…” Harmony gently pulled on her tentacles, idly wrapping them around her hands. “This is why I prefer math.”

Rather than the large barren spaces all of them had grown accustomed to over the past while, this room appeared to be cramped. Filled from nearly edge to edge with long glass containers, only with a narrow space leading straight towards the room. 

It was nearly impossible to tell how large the room itself was, being completely overtaken by the neatly stacked crates. 

Padre’s hand tilted to show Harmony the holographic map. “The room isn’t showing up on our map.” 

Just as Padre said, the small dot signifying their location wasn’t bound by the walls of a room, but instead floating idly in the dark background. They were growing closer to the highlighted room, only separated by the empty space on the map. 

“Oh… Hm,” Harmony idly hummed, “Do you know if there’s a way to like… make it appear?”

“C.Q. didn’t mention any, but surely there has to be.” He popped his head up from the map, scanning the area. “Hmmm… I’m not so sure how though. I barely even know how the metro works…”

Harmony leaned a bit closer to Padre, lightly bumping her shoulder against his own. “Can’t be that hard. We just have to try, right?”

And then Iso Padre laughed his hearty laugh again, and she couldn’t help but offer a smile in return. “I suppose so. We’d best get looking then. Do you know where to start?”

“Well, I’m thinking… Wait, actually show me the map again, Padre.” She looked back on it, seeing the rooms they’d passed through before. Each of which seemed relatively normal on the map. It was only the room they were currently in that wasn’t generating. It was reminiscent of the blotted out station map. “Hm. Okay. So, keep in mind that I’m just guessing here, and I could absolutely be eight hundred percent wrong, but if it's generating other rooms without any hassle, then I think the problem has to do with the room, and not the servers…”

“You could tell that all from a map?”

Harmony simply just shrugged. “Nope. I’m completely guessing.”

“Seems rather succinct for a guess.”

“Okay, well,” Harmony sighed, “technically, it's more than a guess. It just seems really stupid for a company to both generate a map piecemeal and in real time.”

“I’m afraid you've lost me.”

“Uh. It's the…” She paused, rattling her head for an adequate analogy. “Kinda the digital version of taping different pieces of paper together to make a map instead of using one big piece of paper.”

“Oh, I see. That is rather interesting…” He brought up the map on his CQ-80 once more, now looking at the spaces in between glitches. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“3D printed rooms, maybe.” Harmony shrugged. “Like a roguelike.”

“Roguelike? Is this one of those video games you mentioned?” His head tilted. “I at least understand the 3D printing bit..”

“I’ll… uh, try my best to explain as I work.” She took a step through the door, shuddering at how she could feel glass on either side. It squished against her shoulders, leaving little space to move her hands. Her eyes looked around as she prattled on. “So I've been thinking, this whole thing is kinda like a dungeon crawler.” 

Pixel seemed to facepalm at the statement. 

“What? I'm not wrong. What is this place if not a dungeon?” Harmony sighed. 

“A company?” Padre said, still looking through the map. “But if the video game comparisons make it easier, by all means continue.

Harmony had to step over a sparking wire as she talked. A small sting felt on her ankle as she misjudged the distance slightly. “Ow…” She wishes she could flap her hand to dull the pain, but the glass prevented any large movements.

But never one to be deterred from talking about her interests, Harmony continued. “Roguelikes are essentially randomly generated dungeons. So the map changes. Maybe if this place generates things like that, it'd need to constantly update the map.”

“How… How did you explain what I've wondered for years?”

“...Pokémon Mystery Dungeon.”

“Oh, I've actually heard of that one!”

Harmony whipped her head back around. “What? You have?”

Iso Padre nodded, cracking his neck a bit. “I should have the cartridge in my pocket here, somewhere. A child left it on the train before he disappeared.”

“Oh…” Harmony felt the atmosphere in the room fall, as Padre spoke. It was a small thing, but the way he said it… she could tell that this kid never coming back for their game bore heavily on him. She watched as Padre rummaged around in his internal pocket. 

Pivoting her body, she faced forward again, staring head to head with the glass crates. It was long clouded, likely worn down by debris, and brackish water. But some bits still retained their shine, obvious by Harmony's own reflection.

 It looked entirely foreign. Dark circles were painted beneath her eyes, her lips looked far too chapped, and specks of dirt seemed to be making their home along her scalp. And that wasn't the worst of it. Minor scrapes on her hands, at the end of her tentacles, her cheeks almost started to look hollow, the harsh shadows caused by her own glow not helping. She knew she couldn’t have looked good, but this was just… how long had she even been here?

“Ah, found it!” Iso Padre exclaimed, dragging Harmony back to the conversation she was supposed to be having. The sounds of him turning around the cartridge in his palm weren't lost on Harmony as she walked further into the room. Thankfully, Padre didn't quite follow in, giving Harmony ample space to work. 

“Right…” She sighed, running her hands through her scalp, feeling the slight sting in her raw fingertips. “Yeah, ok. So about the maps. That got me thinking about Pokémon in general, and like… PvP.”

“Pv—”

“Player versus player.” Her energy suddenly seemed sapped. Perhaps talking about video games has lost its novelty. Or she was just worn out. Either way, she wasn't appreciative of the sudden bout of self-consciousness. “The consoles need to connect to each other to do that. And when those connections fail, there's only so many places it can go wrong.”

“Like what?” Padre must have picked up something in her tone, because suddenly his own changed. Harmony didn't really have the energy to analyze what that meant, rather focusing on trying to talk herself through her own solution.

“Well, the connection itself can be faulty, but that usually means neither console will connect. That’s a server issue, usually.” 

A moment passed, and Iso Padre responded: “But it can’t be that, because the entire map would be blank.”

Harmony gave a sigh of relief. “You actually understood that…”

“Well, it’s taking a moment to process, video games are far beyond my time, but I’m digesting basically what you’re saying.”

“That is… so weird.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I say things sometimes. Okay, so you get what I’m saying. That’s good. Great, actually.” It almost felt like her shoulders relaxed? Something about them felt a bit more free. Like a knotted string in her back had loosened. Not necessarily come undone, but a bit of slack had been picked up. “Huh. Anyway… So where was I?”

“Problems can happen in many places. Which is a fact of life in and of itself.”

“Yeah. But video games. An issue can also happen in the console itself. When that happens, usually only the console with the problem will disconnect.”

“So, our problem is coming from inside the house?”

Harmony’s hand somehow got its own burst of energy, as she whipped it up to point at Iso Padre. “Exactly!” Then it faltered for a second, but she kept it pointing. “Well, hopefully!”

“You’ve yet to fail me, wayfarer.” He said. “I await to see what you have in store.”

“Thanks.” Her hand dropped finally, and she finally started to scan the room, bringing her tentacles up just a bit to light her way.

Towards the opposite end of the room, the crates seemed to dwindle in number, leaving much more space to work. In fact, it was enough to see a screen embedded into the wall. And more shockingly, it was on. 

It was easy enough to miss at first, the screen was entirely black, save for a dimly lit, staticky still image of the Kamabo logo, painted in the neon cyan which she’d seen countless times around the metro before.

The screen bulged out of the wall just slightly, enough to be noticeable, but not enough to distort the image it was showing. It was easily recognizable as the kind of TV she grew up with. She could easily imagine the large box behind it.

Pixel immediately swam towards the box, flapping their tailfin about. They gesture a fin up towards the TV.

“Pixel what’re you say—Oh my cod there’s electricity.” Pixel swam up in his characteristic nod and Harmony. “The console isn’t broken, it just can’t connect. Ok wait, Pixel, that’s what you’re saying, right?”

Another nod, and Harmony practically shouted: “We need to restart your router!”

“You need to do what?” Padre called out.

Harmony didn’t bother turning around this time, instead looking around for anything she could work with. “The room. It, uh. Okay so the console is on. The room is working, like there’s electricity and stuff. It’s just disconnected from the network.”

“So you want to connect the room to Wi-Fin?”

“Yes yes yes, that’s what I’m saying.” Harmony immediately shed her backpack, opening the pocket with all of her handheld consoles. “Thank cod I was going to a concert before this.”

“A concert?”

“Oh, yeah I’m in a band. I… uh, take a bunch of old video game consoles and kind of uh, okay it’s hard to explain but I take a bunch of sounds and mash ‘em up into new music.”

“That’s fascinating! I’d love to hear it sometime!” He smiled. 

“Oh, uh, really?” Harmony sputtered. “Well, uh. If my phone has any battery left. I’m conserving it mostly for Pixels AAC… but I have a few charging packs in my backpack if you wanna give one a listen. Pixel, that chill with you?”

They nodded almost immediately in response, which was surprising on its own.

“Oh, okay. Um. You can listen while I look around this room, I guess.” She took her phone out of her pocket, flipping it open to her audio files before handing it off. “So, those four are the most popular ones we have. Then there's the two new ones. Just, uh, press the center button and it’ll play.”

After hearing the click of the button, and the subsequent introduction of the familiar chiptune, Harmony took to rummaging around her backpack again for a solid few seconds before pulling out a decently sized leather bag. “I really hope these tools are transferable.”

Her attention fell to the walls around her, looking for any kind of panel or node she could use. The walls were mostly barren, being covered by the glass crates. But on the ceiling, there seemed to be a black plastic node, just above the door where she entered. Almost like a sleek fire alarm.

Hopefully she could climb the glass crates. Maybe if she pushed one of the stray crates up to the door, and hopped on top, she could hypothetically reach it.

She quickly found one lying near the corner, and pulled it out. It was surprisingly light, though that was probably explained by the fact that it was empty. In fact, most of the crates seemed empty. Harmony decided to not dwell on whatever they could have been transporting.

Afterwards she quickly hopped onto it, surprised at how sturdy the glass actually was. Must have been used to transport something heavy. 

As she stretched up her arm, she found that her hand could perfectly latch onto the node. It didn’t necessarily seem to be on, judging by the lack of any lights, whirring noises, or static feeling to it.

“Let’s hope I’m not breaking anything.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. We already let you steal from the vending machines.”

“Heh, I guess.” Surprisingly, with a simple twist, the plastic cover of the node came off, revealing a relatively small motherboard, a few wires, and a green blur which seemed to quickly grow in size, until plop.

A small, thin sheet of metal and plastic landed directly on Harmony’s forehead. 

“Pixel, what is that?” They gently swam up to slide their fin under the sheet, and lifted it up so Harmony could see. “Aaand the RAM stick fell out. Who wants to bet that’s where our problems come from?”

Pixel gently raised their opposite fin.

“I have no clue what kind of ram you’re referring to, but I trust in you, wayfarer.”

“What’s funny—” Harmony took the stick from Pixel, giving it a once over. “Yup, just as expected. Nothing wrong with it. It just wasn’t pressed in all the way.”

“I’m assuming that’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I’ve done it way too many times to count.” She lined up the stick with the slot it fell out of. “It was probably inserted most of the way, but over the years it just fell out. Especially since this node is on the ceiling, it had a whole fight with gravity.”

Harmony gently pressed up, hearing a little click as soon as she was met with resistance, followed by tiny lights beginning to blink as power flowed into the newly repaired device. “Yeah this is why you shouldn’t really have your workers wear headphones all the time.”

“It does seem like a rather obvious oversight. Perhaps Kamabo was worried the subjects would defect.”

“Maybe.” Harmony hopped off of the crate, picking up her toolbag. “Guess I didn’t need any of these.”

Padre stood up by her. “I was meaning to ask, why do you have a tool bag on you?”

“It’s for the concert. Since it pretty much all comes from the consoles, I gotta make sure they’re ship-shape.” She slid the bag back into her backpack, hoisting it back up onto her arms. “Try the CQ-80 now.”

Iso Padre tapped the center button, and up came the screen, but this time, they were enclosed in a room, with a label that Padre translated to “Belly Site Storage Facility.”

“Holy carp, it actually worked.” Right then, the string along her shoulders unknotted itself, and Harmony got a sudden burst of energy. Her fists clenched for just a second before she flapped them both about. “It… It actually worked?”

“I always had faith in you, wayfarer.” He gave her a firm pat on the back, which Harmony merely flapped her hands harder in response.

“Heh… Thanks… Like really.” She swore her hands could have fallen off, but she didn’t care. Well, until she jerked one hand hard enough that it slammed directly into a glass corner of a crate. 

That was enough to cause her to stop her joyous flapping with a hiss.

“Wayfarer, are you alright?” Padre immediately turned back.

She nodded, still seething. “Mhm. Yup. Totally fine.”

“Are you sure?” He held out a pair of hands, to which Harmony showed her own. “Hm. No blood. But that seemed like it hurt.”

“It’s okay.” Harmony turned her head down, remembering the times similar things have happened. “As long as I contain myself, it won’t happen again.”

“Perhaps.” Iso Padre sighed. “But I rather enjoyed seeing you happy.”

“Quiet hands are happy hands.” Harmony simply said back. She didn’t even consciously say it; the action was more of a reflex. 

“If you say so.” Padre sighed. “But maybe you should just give your hands another chance.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harmony rolled her eyes. “Or is this gonna be another one of your riddles?”

“I’ll answer it this time.” From his pocket, he pulled a strip of paper. “Is the quietest part of a storm not right after the thunder?”

“Uhh. Sure.” Harmony wasn’t entirely sure if she actually understood the metaphor here. Let alone if Padre even knew how the weather worked.

“Sometimes your hands can be happiest after thundering.” He peeled the paper apart, revealing a small starry band aid. His hands delicately placed it over the exact place she hit the glass. Even though there was no blood. Seems wasteful. “Perhaps you just need to find the right place to thunder.”

“That…” Well, Harmony wanted to tell him that what he said just made no sense. Usually after thunder, the rain itself starts. And last time Harmony checked, that usually wasn’t quiet. She may live in the desert now but she still knows what rain is. But instead, she just focused on the dark galaxy band aid which was placed over her knuckle. “Thanks…”

“Of course.” He smiled, releasing Harmony’s hands from his own. Glancing at the band aid once more, Harmony swore her hand hurt less. Even though there was no reason it could have worked. She sighed at the thought, before turning both of their attention back to the map.

Iso Padre continued: “Look, you even opened the room that connects to our destination. It’s called the Belly Site. Kind of vague naming.”

“Eh. Developers have named weirder.”

The TV screen just a few feet away cut their conversation off with a weird bit of static, before turning to a new screen. The backdrop was stark white, against it a navy blue text displayed. But directly in the center laid the remnants of the Kamabo logo, burnt into the screen itself.

“Hasn’t this company heard of screensavers?”

“Screensavers?” Iso Padre asked

“Nevermind.” Harmony diverted her attention back to the screen. “What’s it say?”

“Ah, yes.” Padre cleared his throat before continuing. “Subject #150. Please select your purpose. And then it lists ‘Transportation, Sanitization, Inventory, and Reassignment.”

“Should we select transportation?”

“It seems best.”

Iso Padre flicked the joystick on the CQ-80 and clicked on what Harmony assumed to be transportation. 

A new set of words appeared. Iso Padre read them aloud. “Please take a crate, and place it in front of the door. Next, secure yourself and any needed equipment within the crate, then select Proceed.”

Harmony shuddered and Iso Padre’s shell clacked once more. He just about hunched over again, but he stopped himself. 

“We have to… um… get inside them?” She looked back at the crate she’d pulled out. Sure, it was long enough that her head wouldn’t squish or anything, but it barely looked wide enough for Harmony to stretch her arms out halfway.

“Packaged up like commodities…” Padre mumbled. “Are there any lengths Kamabo won’t go to?”

Harmony felt her hands shake just a bit, almost unsure of what to do. Consciously, she knew that her best bet would be to listen to the screen. It was practically her only bet out of here. But just beneath her coherent thoughts, her entire body was practically screaming that no, there is no way in water or on land that she should get in. 

Packed up in a tiny box and shipped off to who knows where? 

Harmony wrapped her hand around her fingers, but the pull wasn’t anywhere what she needed. Instead, she wrapped her tentacles around her wrist, and tugged hard. Something to quiet whatever was screaming inside her. 

Going inside Kamabo was one thing, but to let the damn thing ferry her around like pieces of plastic on an assembly line? And in a box small enough to suffocate in?

Her throat practically closed up at the thought. The muscles just around her voice box clenched hard, and painfully. She yanked her tentacles harder, maybe in a way to quell the pain. 

Someone shouted her name again. Padre. 

Her eyes looked up, as bleary as they may have been, seeing his armored figure in front of her. 

Harmony couldn’t keep her hand from pulling. Each time she felt her pulse, her hand seemed to jerk down. 

Iso Padre’s hand reached towards hers. The one entangles in her own tentacles. 

No… no. He shouldn’t do that. It’s too dangerous. Only Pixel could get that close. His hands were too close. Not just to her, but to her tentacles. Her head whipped violently back and forth, an effort to communicate just whatever she needed to say. 

Glass on either side of her, Iso Padre in front, the door to her back. 

“Wayfarer, what’s wrong?” His hand retracted, but he was still too close. She could feel her tentacles raising just a bit. She needed to be big. Scary. Intimidating. But it wasn’t Iso Padre she was trying to intimidate. Was it? No, no. She can’t intimidate him. Padre wasn't going to hurt her. Kamabo wanted to. The faceless entity Kamabo, who only seemed to become more and more hostile as the seconds ticked by.

Padre didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve her whining and sniveling. Harmony choked out the only word she could. “Venom.”

“Venom? Wayfarer what do you mean?” He asked. She could only hope she could conjure up the next words. 

“I… Don’t touch me.” No, that didn’t make sense. She needed to tell Iso Padre why. Her throat hurt more, as if the very act of breathing was stressing it. Get the words out, Harmony.

The sound of buttons caught her attention, but before she could figure out where it came from, she heard the speakers on her phone begin playing.

“Anemones are known for their venomous stingers on their tentacles.” The words played out, clearly an automated response. Pixel must have played it out. “When a living creature comes in contact with it, they are immediately envenomed on reflex. You may feel a mild stinging or a burning pain when you touch an anemone’s tentacles, however if an anemone is stressed, they may instinctually grasp at an aggressor.”

Harmony looked away. She knew she should have told Padre earlier, but just as everything does, it slipped her mind. Her body began to burn. Whether out of shame, embarrassment, or just plain fear was unknown.

“When this happens, more stingers will activate, potentially leading to more complications. Whilst it should prove no major harm to many creatures of today's era, it remains important to note that the experience is unpleasant for nearly everyone involved. The only people completely resistant to the venom are anemones themselves and their symbi—”

“Young one, turn that off. I’ve heard enough.” Padre said. The audio reel stopped, and only the beating of Harmony’s heart remained. But her body never stilled. 

“I’m sorry.” She eventually choked out. Harmony could only imagine how bad she looked now. With her pink saliva dripping down her chin. 

“Nonsense. I understand completely.” He walked a bit back from her, leaving a space for her to either step closer, or step out of the room. “Please, take a moment to yourself, wayfarer. I’ll be with you whenever you need.”

Her legs, shaky as they were, took a few steps. But she herself wasn't expecting to step closer to Padre. Exhaustion sunk deep into her legs. She was sure she’d collapse any second.

The next words practically fell out of her mouth.

“I… need pressure.” She tugged once again on the hand that her tentacles wrapped around. That’s only half-right Harmony. “No... I want... I want a hug. But it'll hurt.”

Iso Padre stepped closer, and bent one arm backwards, giving his shell a hearty whack. “It’ll all be alright, wayfarer.” 

Harmony practically threw herself at him after that. Her knees buckled just a little as soon as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her forehead against the aged fabric on his shoulder.

He gladly returned the favor, gently wrapping his arms around her.

Pixel wedged himself right by Harmony’s cheek, gently nuzzling her as well.

The pressure seemed to ease some of the shaking she was subject to. And slowly, her tentacles floated back down, laying flat on her back. 

“You’ve had quite the day, haven’t you?” Padre asked, gently patting one of her shoulder blades.

“It feels so much longer. I just. I want to go home.” Her grip tightened for just a moment before exhaustion took hold. “How much longer do you think it’ll take?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” He sighed. “The hours have been escaping me. To me, all these years have just been one everlasting night.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

“That’d be an adequate description, yes.”

“It’s been one for me.” Harmony sighed. “I just feel so stupid. I should have just walked to my hotel.”

“Now, wayfarer. There is no need to blame yourself here.” He patted her back once more. “Would you have blamed everyone else for falling in?”

Harmony hiccuped. “No.”

“So why blame yourself? This place is designed to capture people, even after it’s decayed.” She could feel his antennae twitch against him. “What happened to you is a tragedy. There should be blame on no one but Kamabo itself. We’re all ensnared in its wicked games.”

“I don’t want to be.” The sentiment was childish, but it’s all she could think of. For some reason, everything was spilling out at that exact moment. “It’s so stupid.”

“Yes, it’s very stupid. The keyword there is it. Not you, not Pixel, not whatever desire you two had, but Kamabo.” 

“Muugghh…Bluh.”

“Does making weird noises help you feel better?”

“Mhm.” Harmony sighed. “Hmmnngg… I know that we need to like… get in the box. But it’s just… I really, really don’t want to.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He started. Harmony lifted her head up to look at him, but still didn’t quite let go. “I’m scared too.”

Somehow, that was more tangible to her. His fear had a shape, a weight to it. It was easy to see him once he said it. They way his shoulders bent, his antennae twitched. A small flick of his tailfin. Heh. Pixel does that too. 

Harmony twisted her body just to bump their shoulders again. “Well, I can hold your hand if you want.”

He lightly slapped his knee. “That’d help a lot.”

The both of them let out their awkward half-laughs, before ultimately falling into a silence. They dragged the crate back, standing it upright before unlatching the door and climbing in.

As expected, it was entirely too small fort he both of them. Harmony felt her tentacles raise off her back again.

But just as that happened, she remembered. She held out her hand, latching onto Iso Padre’s as well.

And after that, it all seemed to fall into place. Harmony situated herself, sitting on the bottom of the crate, as Iso Padre stood against the glass itself. He tapped a few buttons, and the doors in front of them slid open.

Chapter Text

The crate moved along the floor as if it were being ferried along by a conveyor belt, filtering through a pitch black passage. Even the glow Harmony had donned for most of their journey were utterly consumed by the darkness, leaving nothing but the sheen of glass, and Padre’s presence behind her.

Harmony let her tentacles rise again, but this time, with the assurance that Padre’s armor would protect him. It felt good, having them wave up, and brush across the glass. Pixel nudged her head, in a way that Harmony could tell meant Not that scary, right?

She rolled her eyes, but she doubted Pixel could see her do it. It's the thought that counts.

Just in the distance, a small, pale blue light shone. The crate steadily marched forward, brightening everything just a bit. Harmony had to squint as the first few rays shone on the silver of Padre’s carapace and glinted off his glasses.

Then they passed into the light.

Above and below them, deep teal water lapped at the walls, dripping down into itself in scattered droplets, like rain.

But once again, scraps of metal, shards of glass, even the smallest flakes of sparkling dust fell down. 

Other crates floated around too, but rather than the orderly, straight fashion their own moved, they crashed.

Into the walls, into each other, and into the murky depths below. Each collision, the crates would shatter, sending fractured fragments to fall slowly into the pool beneath them.

“It’s like rain, is it not?” Padre remarked, watching the crystalline shower pass by.

“Only if it weren’t so slow.” She finished. This was much faster than the scrap shower from earlier, but it still barely crossed the threshold into rain. Perhaps snow would be a more adequate description.

The crate made its way into the center of the dome, and then harshly turned.

“I enjoyed your music, wayfarer.”

Harmony tilted her head in response, accidentally shaking Pixel out of her tentacles. “You did?”

He nodded. “It was very energetic and lively. I enjoyed the unique spin you put on it.”

“Wow, uh. Thanks.” She gently squeezed his hand, watching as the crate pushed through the glass snow. “I’m glad you like it.”

A wall in front of them opened up its jaws, and suddenly, the three of them were swallowed into darkness once again.

The glass snow was no more, as the next room they had been pushed into was the same drab metal and old TV screen. 

This time, Harmony didn’t need Padre to translate it, as the words flashed by in several different languages. 

Welcome to the beginning of your journey! Please go to the terminal in front of you to acquire and register your new CQ-80.

Harmony kicked open the door of the crate, and practically raced forward to the screen, but she was held back by the link of her and Iso Padre’s hand.

“Careful.” He said. “There’s broken glass on the floor.”

Upon further inspection, Harmony could see he was right. Tiny triangles of glass spreading all over the ground. It was a miracle Harmony had not seen it before. She got up a bit more carefully this time, minding the crunch under her sneakers as she walked closer.

The screen flickered and flashed as several black lines would wave through it. If a TV set had legs, this one was surely on its last.

Their hands remained linked as they steadily made their way to the screen. Just beneath it, a strange set of multicolor buttons and joysticks sat on top of a terminal. 

“It’s like an arcade machine.” Harmony plainly stated. “This place is so weird.”

“Very,” Padre said. 

As they drew closer, the bright colored screen painted wispy shadows along the floor. Attached to the walls, and atop the machine itself. Slightly transparent, small, and swaying to and fro. Each painted in a neon pink, or bright blue as the screen shone…

Then the shadows opened their mouths. Harmony shuddered

“Predatory tunicates.” Padre stated, offering her hand a squeeze. Harmony pulled her tentacles for a bit of reassurance.  “We’ll be alright. We’re far too large for them to eat us.”

Pixel, however, quivered in her tentacles, far away from any of the tunicates. 

“I’ll keep you safe.” She promised, as she finally approached the arcade machine. 

The screen, almost sensing her presence, changed to another graphic. This time, a list, filled with different scribbles of thousands of languages. 

Assuming what it was asking, Harmony tapped the joystick down until she reached the blocky letters she was used to.

Surface Inkling (Inkadian Dialect) and directly below it, Surface Inkling (Splatlandian Dialect).

She moved it down, hovering over the Splatlandian dialect, considering that’s what she’s been using recently. Harmony pressed the button she assumed would select it.

“Ah, the Splatlands.” Padre remarked. “I’ve heard about them.”

Harmony shrugged. “Yeah, I moved there cause it isn’t illegal to jailbreak consoles.”

“Oh, interesting.” 

The screen changed once more, and finally in a language she could read herself, it stated: Please place your hand on the center console. 

Her head tilted in confusion for just a moment, until a bright pad, just beneath the joystick lit up. In a pale blue, a handprint took shape.

“That’s rather curious.” Padre stated. “I wonder what it’ll have you do?”

“Only one way to find out,” and Harmony slid her hand over the outline.

The gentle sounds of mechanical whirring arose, and before Harmony could even consider what they were for, she felt a pinprick on each of her fingers.

“Ow!” Her hand rocketed back against herself. Soon enough to see five drops of blood on each fingertip completely coat the once-blue hand print in deep red. Each tunicate began to violently lash around, stretching as close as they could to the puddle, but none of them even came close.

As quickly as the bloody handprint appeared, it vanished, leaving Harmony only with the mental impression, and her still bleeding fingertips.

She let Iso Padre bandage the pinpricks as she watched the arcade screen change.

Words organized themself in front of her very eyes.

Genetic Sample 10,009. 

Most recent identifiable ancestor: Entacmaea quadricolor (Bubble-tip anemone)

Native Region: Tropical Indo-Pacific Ocean

Status: Unsanitized

Harmony didn’t understand a word of the last few lines, other than tropical and ocean. But it didn’t matter, as the words were quickly replaced by a new string of text.

Your ticket to the promised land awaits. Please pick up your Employee CQ-80 in the dispenser below.

The screen was decorated with some kind of neon sunset. One of those techno art pieces that Orion would like. “Vaporwave?”

“Kamabo enjoys the aesthetic.” 

“Seems kinda out of place.” Harmony crouched down, looking at the dispenser of the arcade machine. 

“Perhaps it’s to invoke a sense of tranquility.”

“They’re kinda doing a pretty bad job of it.”

“I believe it worked better when the place was in working order.”

“I guess.” The machine whirred once more, and a sharp clang sounded as the plastic hit the metal of the dispenser. She lifted the small metal flap, and grabbed the CQ-80 inside. “This place sure loves its vending machines.”

“They’re very convenient.” Padre remarked.

Harmony didn’t really look back, instead analyzing the CQ-80 in her hands. It was different from Iso Padre’s. Instead of drab gray plastic, it was made up of an equally soulless blue. 

“There’s a bunch of them above the surface, y’know.”

“Vending machines?” He asked, scrunching his face in confusion.

“Yeah. A bunch of weird ones too.” 

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Some of them dispense like fully cooked food.”

“That’s rather fascinating.” Padre responded. And while some part of Harmony figured that’d be the best place to end the conversation, she racked her brain for more vending machine facts instead.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten hot ramen out of one before, and it wasn’t even that bad! It tasted like normal ramen! Well, one’s that come out of a package, anyway.” For some reason, Harmony couldn’t quite bring herself to stand back up and make eye contact. “It cracked an egg in it and everything. I didn’t even know vending machines could do that before I came to the Splatlands. It’s insanely high tech, what they’re doing-”

“Wayfarer—”

“And ramen isn’t the end of it!” She threw up her hands for emphasis. “I’ve seen ones that allow you to customize an entire pizza! From the crust all the way to toppings. I haven’t tried that one myself but—”

“Wayfarer, please.”

At this point, she knew she should stop. There was no real reason to be talking about vending machines this much. Even for an appliance that was so fascinating. But her brain couldn’t keep up with her mouth. “I even ate bread out of a can once! What I wanna know is if they cook the bread inside the can, or if they cook it first and then-”

Pixel practically bashed themself into her, and that’s when she finally had the sense to shut up. But her gaze remained firmly on the piece of technology in her hands, suddenly finding every single plastic seam immensely interesting.

“Wayfarer, as much as I love listening to your musings,” Iso Padre started. “I must ask, are you attempting to filibuster our time together?”

“Heheh…no,” Harmony started, but she noticed her tone sounded all too insincere. “Okay, well now that you’ve said it…”

Iso Padre crouched down right beside her, and Harmony heard the crack in his knees. “It’s alright, but you and I both know that now—”

The next words spilled out. “But what if something happens and you’re not there?”

Silence followed. Harmony needed to fill it. “This is all so confusing… And so much has already happened. I… just…. what if it gets worse?

“May I pat your back?” He asked. Harmony nodded, letting him. “It can also get better. In fact, you’ve already made it better. Fixing the rooms, navigating the debris, using everything to your advantage. ”

She could barely even comprehend where all these worries were coming from. Maybe they’d been with her the whole time, maybe she was just unearthing them now. Who knows? Least of all her. “But... what if something happens to you and I’m not there?”

“I have my armor, young one. I may be old,” He started, gently patting her with each sentence. “I may not be able to walk much longer, nor remember much from the days before…”

“You’re not helping your case.” 

“Oh.” Iso Padre hummed for a second, using another hand to scratch his chin. “Yes, you’re right. Let me start again. I am old, yes. And weakening. Perhaps the safety of the train is what’s best for me.”

Then it clicked. Harmony gently bonked her shoulder against Padre’s again, to which she saw a faint smile appear on his face. “When you put it like that, it makes sense… But I don’t want to do this without you.”

“But I can’t do it with you. I mean, look at me. There’s salt crystals between my plates. They crack whenever I stand, only to regrow whenever I sit.”

“That might be arthritis…” Harmony cringed as soon as she said it. “Wrong time, wrong time, I get it.”

“Wayfarer. You are strong. You are wise. You have proven yourself capable of tasks I never had the hope of completing. I’ve seen you shift the very tides of this place. Above all, you’ll be alright.”

Her hands trembled, and she felt the idle bristle against her neck of her restless tentacles. But oddly, she couldn’t bring herself to cry. Which was strange. 

“You really mean all of that?” 

“Of course. You’ve been nothing, if not surprising. I fully believe that with the power of you, and your companion, you’ll both be alright.”

Harmony let that settle, letting the sentiment marinate in her brain until she could convince herself that half of it was true. 

And once it did, she practically threw her arms around Padre. “I’m glad I met you.”

“And I as well, Harmony.”

Chapter Text

Holding the circuit together with her hands, the small light blue light of the node flickered on. She had the urge to flap her hands out of joy, but sadly she had to keep them together as Pixel held up the CQ-80.

“Ok…” Harmony turned her head down, as Pixel brought up the map system for her to see. A few more rooms appeared, including the one just beyond their current door. “Seems like we’re connected to another room… Oh, and it’s connected to a lobby! So we just gotta make it through the next room, and then we have a bunch of rooms.”

The facility seemed to power on a bit more as well the longer she held the circuit together. Lights that weren’t broken or burnt out flickered on, and general sounds of machinery filled the air. Almost as if the place was returning to life. The mechanical revving almost caught her off-guard. 

Static filled the air, until suddenly one of the speakers she saw earlier cut in. 

Harmony wasn’t sure what she expected. Perhaps an announcement from an employee? Or maybe even something accusing her of trespassing. But rather, the static was replaced by a steady drum beat, almost as if a parade was going on. Bells rang in time, being distorted by the waterlogged speakers. 

Though Harmony was certain she’d never heard the song before, compositionally, it scratched a certain itch in Harmony’s brain. Maybe she’d just heard the sound samples before, or perhaps it was just a stock track. Seemed fitting for a company like this. 

When the vocals kicked in, that’s when she lost it. This wasn’t just a stock song; she’s heard this artist before. But where?

“Yo…Pixel—”

“ Sounds like that song from Squid Beatz. ” They had typed. 

“ That’s where I heard it!” She tried to adjust her grip on the wires to keep them together with one hand as she fished the electrical tape out of her pocket. “Oh… this must be from one of the mods. Like when people added our old songs into the sequel.”

“ I think it comes from the ‘In Memoriam’ mod. ”

She brought one of her tentacles forward to hold the tape, and pulled out a small strip with her fingers, before tearing it off.

“Did we ever find out who Musician Very Fresh is?” She wrapped the tape around the wires again, holding it in place.

“ I think Orion called them DJ-Hyperfresh once.”

“Sounds familiar… But they weren’t the ones who wrote the songs, right? It was that old… Octarian artist or something”

“ Do you remember their name? ”

“Not at all.” She sighed. “How's the map looking down there?”

They let out a noise similar to a hum, and Harmony could hear the faint clicking of the CQ-80. 

“ Door is to our left. But instead of opening, it’s only giving me a pop up. ”

“Eugh… Probably not authorized to enter.” She released her fingers from the wires when she was sure that they’d been connected, and hopped down from the crate. “How… hard do you think it’d be to jailbreak a CQ-80?”

Pixel paused for a moment before typing out their response. “ Hard enough that finding another solution would be easier. ”

With a bit of a heave, Harmony looked towards where Pixel said the door was, though it was hidden behind by all kinds of equipment. Though, now that some of the lights were on, she could see how they were all haphazardly spilling on top of each other. 

There didn’t even seem to be a rhyme or reason to the equipment in here. Wires piled on top of IV drips, waterlogged speakers serving as a table for broken propellers. It just seemed to be a dumping site for anything broken. 

Flotsam and jetsam would be the best way to describe it. Whether intentional or not, it all piled up. Like a shipwreck. 

She pushed aside a lot of the debris on the ground, finding that they’d all been lying in puddles of thick, muck-like water. When she dragged her foot though it, the liquid was thick enough that it didn’t reform into a puddle immediately. Instead, it gave Harmony a chance to see the bright green stains that lurked underneath. 

By the time the puddle returned to its initial state, Harmony had already taken to pushing aside the debris, instead struggling her way towards the door. 

Two sliding doors, encrusted by salt crystals at the seam. Each door was made entirely of glass, though the edges seemed to be encased in metal, providing some form of stability to the structure. 

But it seemed to be pointless, as upon closer inspection, Harmony saw faint cracks just lining the edges of the glass.

“Hey… Pixel, can you hand me a screwdriver? I think these doors are on their last legs anyway.” They quickly swam towards Harmony, carrying the tool on top of their head with relative ease. “Heh… Thanks man.”

She grabbed the screwdriver, and drove it between the seam of the doors. The dust of the crystals fell to the floor, before quickly dissolving in the puddles below them. It continued as Harmony started dragging the screwdriver down the seam, breaking up the salt that held the doors together.

The further she drove it down, the more the doors seemed to wobble. Eventually, she was able to poke the entire screwdriver through. With a small flick of the wrist, she was able to separate the doors just an inch, enough to wedge her foot between them.

And now, with a twist of her foot, she was able to open the door with relative ease, being able to pull them apart without any struggle. “Guess that was easier than I thought.”

She quickly took hold of a nearby metal pole, which, upon second look, was probably meant to hold an IV bag, and wedged it between the doors. Then, Harmony quickly went back to gather up her tools and backpack, and slid it on her shoulders.

Luckily, the doors didn’t seem to have any intention of closing, instead just staying in the same position with the IV holder wedged in between them. 

“Another one down.” She muttered to herself. She unconsciously held out her hand, and Pixel weakly whacked it with his fin in return. “Heh… Nice.”

With a push to the doors again, she could see that it led down a sloped corridor, and with a hesitant start, she began to walk down. 

As became the norm, it was clearly worn down, though, compared to other rooms, it had experienced more damage from the waters. The puddles that formed just at the door were spilling down the ramp, forming canyons out of the cracks in the concrete. 

The pink glow illuminated how the cracks spread up into the wall, carving its way through corporate posters until the paper peeled and was washed away. 

What was really interesting is that the music continued. But rather than being warbled and staticy from the speakers, it was clear. The snares were clean and crisp, combined with the strained vocals of whoever was singing. 

Harmony couldn’t help but align her steps with the almost march tempo the song instilled. It seemed only natural after all. The drums and the bells provided ample opportunity, without making it hard.

It also had the added effect of distracting Harmony for a moment, instead just focusing on her feet as the cracks passed by. 

“Left…Right…” She muttered, although she had no real clue if she was actually marching with her left or right foot. She didn’t even care to find out, instead just continuing the phrase. 

Left. Right. Left. Right. 

This pattern continued as long as the slope did.

Until two things became apparent. The first was a splash, enough that Harmony focused underfoot, and saw she had stepped knee-deep in water.

The second was the cold, and wet pressure that surrounded her legs. She felt it first on her exposed calves, which wasn’t all bad. But as the seconds passed, the water slowly seeped into the seams of her shoes, and soaked the fabric of her socks.

Without a single hesitation, Harmony immediately jumped back onto the ramp, though, perhaps she should have been a bit more prepared to catch herself, as she slipped, and landed on the ground. 

“Thank cod I’m not an Inkling…” Was all she managed to say before completely ripping the shoes off her feet, and peeling off her socks. 

She shuddered as the cold air hit them, though it was much preferred to the repugnant texture of the soggy socks. Though, she still found herself pulling on her fingers in an attempt to ease the feeling it sparked.

Pixel swam up to her cheek, gently nuzzling her. In return, she gently scratched behind one of his fins and sighed. “Guess we’re going for a wade… Eugh.”

Harmony begrudgingly grabbed her socks and gave them a thorough wring before shoving them into the toes of her shoes. Next, she got up, and grabbed her shoes in one hand. 

Finally, she looked up, finding exactly where her next exit was. 

Almost every light in the room was blown out, though, it seemed as though delicate streamers of white light hang from the ceiling, and just behind them were billowing curtains of black, obscuring a large portion of the room from view.

The room almost seemed to twitch each second. Water would splash unexpectedly, or the blasting music would skip backwards. 

More of a reason to leave as quickly as possible. With a deep breath, Harmony took the plunge, sinking her bare feet into the water.

It was hard to ignore the slimy texture of the ground, and even harder to ignore the visceral reaction Harmony’s body almost had to it, but this was their only route. She wrapped her tentacles around her free hand, and hesitantly took her first step forward.

Nothing happened so far, so she took another, wading through the bare water. 

This time, spindly fibers seemed to attach themself to one of her ankles. Harmony flapped her hand harder, and next her leg, trying to loosen whatever had tangled its way onto her. 

She tried her best to ignore it and take another step forward. But then it scuttled, from one leg to another, leaving a stinging hot trail across her legs. 

Everything in Harmony’s right mind told her to panic. To immediately shake off whatever had decided to crawl its way onto her. 

But on the back of her head, she felt a pressure pressing against her scalp. Pixel was shaking, and hiding deep within the mass of her tentacles.

And suddenly it was put into perspective. To Harmony? These fibers were small, bearable even. But to Pixel? They could very well envelop them entirely, stinging them to paralysis, maybe even worse. 

She couldn’t let that happen. Not just after finally learning to understand them.

So, with whatever courage she managed to scrape up just right then, Harmony trudged forward with another step.

And soon enough, the creature scuttled off. 

One step became another, and slowly, she walked forward.

The streamers came closer into view. They rained down like wispy strands of spider silk, each with a small bead of light attached to it. Each one was only inches away from another, creating almost a garden. 

As she approached closer, Harmony held out a hand to brush them out of her way.

Only then, her hand began to burn. And the wispy threads wrapped around her wrist, furthering the sensation.

Harmony immediately yanked back her hand, though it seemed to only pull the glowing threads closer to herself. Even more began to drift towards her, brushing up against her in a searing sting.

Her fists clenched, though her knees shook. Her eyes darted around, watching as several of the beads converged on her. But right then, she made the mistake of looking upwards.

Looming above her, a spiraling, spindly, creature loomed in a tangle. She could barely make out its body besides two large, pulsing bubbles. But it was clear that each and every one of the threads came from it.

Harmony had the urge to wade backwards, but whatever occurred in her mind, her feet went the opposite direction. Bracing her arms in front of her face, she kept walking.

She let the boiling tears spill from her eyes as she walked through the minefield in front of her. Each step seemed to bring a new sting to the surface of her skin. It tingled as if it was electricity itself that was attacking her.

But her legs kept moving. Even though her knees shook and ankles rolled. Even though her eyes were bleary and her ears began to ring. Even though her feet were being cut by the rough ground. 

She only stopped when she ran into a large object that nearly knocked her over. 

Hesitantly, Harmony removed her hands from her face, and even the simple act of moving her arms felt like it’d tear her skin apart. 

With a quick once around, it appeared the threads were behind her, though by the sinking feeling in her arms, they might as well have never left. Harmony steeled herself, trying her best to at least get through this room.

But, her gaze fell downwards, to the large table she'd bumped into. It too, was completely obscured by the curtains that blocked her view. The thick ribbons that seemed to be made of pure darkness.

Harmony reached out her hand again, parting it in front of her. Thankfully, it didn't hurt, though whether that was how it really felt or her hands were finally going numb, it was still up for debate.

As she parted the curtains, she caught a glimpse of a pale fluorescent green form, sprawled over a table. 

Giving her eyes a second to focus, the picture became clear. The table was a soundboard, complete with turntables, audio channels, even a computer monitor at it's side.

But hunched over, Harmony could make out the basic form of a person. Their skin; a pale shade of fluorescent green. They laid flat across the table, clawed arm cradling their head, whilst the other dangled over the side of the table and into the water itself. The only thing seeming to hold them up was the table.

Harmony crouched down to get a better look at them. 

Their face was pressed up against the soundboard. On their head, they wore a white baseball cap, which obscured their face in shadow. A blood red visor laid askew over their features, revealing just a sliver of pitch-black eyes, almost as if the person lacked any to begin with.

Cradling her face, where her tentacles, starting with a dusky blue hue, and fading out to a red.

“An Octoling…” Harmony remarked. “You can't survive in water.”

The body remained still.

Harmony looked down towards their arms. It was practically submerged up to the elbow. And with a quick glance over, it was easy to see the water rose just above the Octoling’s knees.

A lethal amount of water for any Inkling or Octoling, yet this one remained perfectly preserved.

The curtains parted further, revealing a green pad just under the Octoling’s feet. The pad’s erratic pulsing and diming casting the room in ghostly patterns. 

A spawn point. She remembered when Clash was talking about Turf War. They reformed Inklings and Octolings after they've been splatted.

So they weren't dead. Or at least not splatted.

Harmony reached out her hands, gently placing two fingers on the side of their neck. 

The skin was roughened, and cold enough to compete with the water she was standing in. But it was still. No pulse drummed. 

“Oh…” She gently removed her hand. 

Then their head turned, raising ever so slightly off of the soundboard. The visor slid off their face, landing on the metal with a clack. 

The Octoling’s eyes were wide open. Completely black, almost making her eyes seem hollow, though a singular cyan ring glowed, showing some semblance of an iris.

A groan sounded, rumbling low between the two of them. 

“Su-S…” Their voice was roughened, crackling and grating with each sound. The water between them splashed, and slowly, a completely blackened arm arose. Gangly and clawed, it reached outwards. “Sun… rise…”

Then they fumbled, and the little strength the Octoling had crashed down. Harmony could only catch their hand before it collided with the water.

“It’s… dawn…” Their hand clutched around Harmony’s. It sent a chill down her being, and the hand itself was slimy and jagged. But with a closer look, the black almost seemed crystalline in nature. For a second, Harmony could see the glossy gel of the Octoling’s hand almost capture her soft pink glow, refracting it in dazzling blues, reds, and greens. “It’s… you’re… sunrise?”

The grip they had tightened, squeezing the already painful welts Harmony had been given. She had to brace herself for the pain. “What do you mean?”

The Octoling brought up their other arm from under their head. This one didn’t share the others black shade, remaining the same marbled green color. An IV bag hung off their elbow, secured by a piece of peeling tape. Again, they reached towards Harmony. “You’re… the dawn…”

And once again, their hand came crashing down for Harmony to catch. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. The pain was starting to get to her just a bit. As they clutched down on her arms, blistering hot pain shot down to her muscles. Harmony closed her eyes for a second in a wince, but as soon as they went dark, she heard the thunk of the Octoling’s head hitting the soundboard.

“Shit…” Harmony said. She tried to squeeze their hands, though her grip was weak. “You still with me?”

The panic in her own voice surprised her.

All that was given in return was an even weaker response. The Octoling could barely manage to even squeeze both hands, instead just applying a bit more pressure on their fingertips before ultimately hanging limp again.

“Okay… Okay, Okay…” Harmony took a deep breath, and relaxed her shoulders. The pain seemed to ebb for a second, long enough for her to take more of the Octoling’s weight on her. “I’ll get you out of here.”

No response.

Harmony looked up, and saw that the closest exit was right behind the Octoling. A ramp, whilst steep, certainly led to the lobby. 

She made her way around the table, being careful not to let go of at least one of the Octoling’s hands. 

As Harmony made her way around, Pixel carefully swam out of her tentacles, snatching the visor that had fallen off their face, carrying them gently up the ramp. 

“Heh… Thanks…” She called back to Pixel. When Harmony finally stood beside them, the issue arose. She had to remove her hand from the Octolings, and instead shift to carrying it. Turning her attention to them, she asked: “Can you walk?”

The silence was only permeated by the sloshing of water, and the crackling of the speakers. 

Harmony tried to guide them off of the soundboard, slotting her arms under theirs. But even with one simple tug, her arms started to boil, and she had to release her grip on them on instinct. She nearly fell into the water itself, only barely sparing all the technology in her backpack.

With each attempt, she noticed how it started to weigh on her. The burning in her arms became a tremble in her knees, an ache in her back, and pounding in her head. Weakness seemed to sink deep into every fiber of her being, making it impossible to pull them up.

Every part of her wanted to collapse right then. Just sink into the cold water and let it freeze her. But if she did, everything in her backpack, pockets, and hands would be subjected to the same kind of damage. This Octoling shouldn’t have even been in water in the first place, and certainly Harmony making them both collapse into it would end horribly for both of them.

Another heave, and the Octoling barely moved. 

Another pull, and the sticky tears pooled in her eyes. 

“I… I can’t…” She clinged tighter. “I can’t just leave you behind.”

Her entire body rippled with waves of pain, and she swore her legs were going to freeze off. 

“Someone…” She choked out. “Please… Help…”

The abyssal curtains above her began to raise, swirling up above her. 

Glancing up again, they dragged along the air like thick, black ribbons, twirling just above their heads. And in the midst of the long fabric, the bell of a jellyfish peeked through. 

Harmony took the only chance she had. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t leave this one behind…”

Her voice cracked, and finally gave out by the final word. Harmony could do nothing but stand and look sympathetic, just in the hope that Iso Padre was right. 

The ribbons descended, and Harmony watched as they wrapped around the Octoling’s body, consuming them once again, in the darkness.

Four ribbons cradled them, and the bell of the jellyfish swam down to meet Harmony’s face. 

It had no eyes, but she could tell they were staring. Only with it in such proximity, could Harmony see how massive it truly was. The length across the bell was just over half her height, and Harmony could only guess how long its tentacles were.

And then the jellyfish pulsed, and Harmony felt a bit of the weight easing off of her. Then it pulsed again, and the pain subsided a tad bit more. 

Suddenly, the rhythm stopped. But the staring continued, etching it’s sightless gaze deep into Harmony. Something about it felt almost familiar. Like the phantom jellyfish was trying to send a message.

Prove it.

“You’re just like Pixel…” She remarked. If she wasn’t in so much pain, she would have laughed, but instead she just grimaced.

With the weight eased, Harmony could actually begin guiding the Octoling back towards the exit. 

“Hold on just a little bit longer…” Harmony said, but whether she was saying that to the Octoling, the jellyfish, or just for herself, she didn’t know. 

Her legs stumbled each step backwards, and her head would spin a little bit harder.

The darkness of the room was soon replaced with white spots, but she kept walking. Even if she couldn’t feel her legs, she took each step. 

She knew it was almost over when the crushing pressure on her legs eased. Walking up the ramp was even harder, but somehow, she managed to stay conscious enough just to get her and the Octoling up to a stable level. The ground was still concrete, but no water flooded in.

Harmony used her last bit of effort to gently ease the Octoling down on the ground with the jellyfish, and then remove her backpack.

But after that?

She sank to the floor before she even had the choice.

EVERYONE!!!! LOOK AT WAXSUYAAA'S WORK RIGHT FUCKING NOW HOLY FUCK I LOVE THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH IM ETERNALLY GREATFUL! there's also a cool as fuck time lapse on their tumblr with it! check it out! please! THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THIS DOES FOR MY MOTIVATION!!!!!

Chapter Text

There was a common belief that humans were incapable of dying in their dreams. 

Or that if they did, that nothing would await them when they awoke.

Dreams were a fascinating thing to humans. It permeated every part of their beings, their lives, their spirits. Yet, up until their final moments, they would never make sense of them.

But, I’ve seen deep within each of you. I know the dreams that await each and every one of you. 

No dreams of death. None of pain, nor fear, struggle, strife. The barriers that divide us will fall away, uniting us all in the promised land.

Sweet dreams, my worthy subjects.

So they dreamt.

Their dreams would weave themselves through time, creating strings of melodies within themselves. 

They'd craft them as the dreams came and went. 

But soon, they started to slow.

Dreams fell away just before they could capture them, or rather, would drag on so long, that any attempt to capture it would just prove worthless in the greater scheme.

Their rest proved restless, as the dreams all seemed to run from them.

Every attempt to chase them down proved fruitless. Everytime, barely being able to wrap their fingers around them before it fell apart. 

So they slept. 

Their eyes left wide open, they still slept.

Fheiry arms flooding and filled with sediment, they still slept.

Their body falling forward, crashing on whatever laid in front of them, she still slept.

They slept until they found their dreams. They slept until they could wrap their hands around the wisps of what used to be.

They slept until the sun came for them.

Pallid rays of rosy light, cascading down on them. The warmth of the dawn, clutching their hands, carrying them away. 

Carrying them away into a new dream. 

A dream of daybreak. A dream of the sun.

A daydream, if you will.

But when their eyes finally focused, once they blinked away the haze that laid dormant in her eyes for so long, they found nothing but a vast swath of grayed stone. Darkened by shadow.

After all, it was only a dream. 

Chapter Text

Their body felt heavy. 

Pressed up against the ground, each joint cradled by nothing but a layer of fabric and the hard concrete beneath. Not too far in texture from their own clothes, but it seemed thicker. Enough that it was harder to feel the ground.

As the moments passed, more sensations came to them. Their dress was damp and sticky, clinging to her skin. Their socks, much of the same. Shadow surrounded them, darkening everything except the concrete ceiling above.

However, the most puzzling sensation that came was a wispy wind. But rather than feeling it, she heard it. Short, quiet, gusts that sounded in a slow rhythm. The sound only fell on only one side of them. Perhaps a vent? Though, on second thought, vents didn’t have a pulse, a rhythm, like this. 

Their pondering proved useless, so they decided to turn their head towards it.

Just that simple movement, but it took a long time to perform. Her neck might as well have been cemented in place. Exhaustion permeated the very muscles she was using. Her head practically fell onto its side, hitting cushioned fabric beneath her.
 
Right beside them, sitting upright against the wall, an anemone dozed. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, as she leaned against them. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest was in tandem with the rushing of the wind. Perhaps it had something to do with her? A kind of symbiosis she had with the air around her?

 …

She was just breathing.

Odd. 

Perhaps this one was new. She was unique, to say the least. Pink tentacles cascading down the length of her back. 

Her feet were bare as well. Now they were certain she was new. Her choice of clothes would never meet regulation. Far too bright. Could attract deep-sea creatures if she wasn’t careful. But, it wasn’t as if they were one to care. Their own outfit barely met regulation itself. The steel toe boots, noise canceling headphones, and shades pushed them just past the edge.

As they pondered, they noticed one thing in particular about the girl. Whilst her tentacles idly swayed, a few rustled around, tangling around each other until a small black fish poked through. 

It swam around the anemone’s head, flapping its tailfin in the air as it moved. Their movements fluid, moving through the air around them like water.

The small fish rubbed up against the anemone for a few seconds, before swimming back to her head.

But their head tilted at the last moment, and their gaze locked onto their own. Gently, they swam a bit closer to her, reaching a small fin out towards her face.

All they did in response was blink. But that seemed to be enough, as the small fish immediately swam back to the anemone girl, and headbut her cheek.

She awoke a few seconds later, groaning and wiping the stray drool from her mouth. “Eugh… Pixel? What is it man?”

Pixel swam towards them again, and the anemone’s eyes followed, locking onto them as well.

“Oh, you're awake. Uh… Hi.” The anemone gave a small wave. 

They tried to return, but the suffocating weight prevented them from even lifting their hand off the cold ground. 

“M' names Harmony. Uh… sorry for the bad bandage job… I was half conscious and Pixel doesn't have arms.”

Bandages? That's strange. They’re certain she would have felt bandages on her. 

Focusing again, they focused on the sensations of their own body. But neither the sticky adhesive or scratchy fabric of bandages could be felt. 

“Uh… Are you… uh… with me?”

They snapped out of their daze and glanced back at Harmony, jerking their head in a slight nod.

“Oh, okay…” Harmony said. “Can you… Uh, okay. There's no way to not be rude here… but can you talk? Like. No pressure if you can't or anything. I just uh… yeaah.”

Their lips parted, letting in a small fraction of the bitter air permeate their lungs. They expanded, pressing up against the muscle of her chest.

For just a second, they held their breath, letting it remain stagnant in their throat.

Then, they breathed it out.

“I… believe…” They were shocked at how quiet their voices were. Most of the sound merely came from the air brushing past her lips. Almost as if the chords stayed stagnant in their throat. “I believe I can.”

Even doing that, they could feel the muscles in their throat sink back under the weight. As expected, at least. 

“Oh, okay. What’s your name?” Harmony asked.

They inhaled again, letting their throat get used to the usage. “Test subject… 812… Primary employee of… Kamabo’s…” No matter how much they talked, the chords couldn’t move. “Of Kamabo’s auditory division.”

Subject 812 breathed out the final bits of air from their body, letting the exhaustion collapse their lungs. 

“Nice to, uh… meet you, Subject 812. I’m Harmony… wait I already said that. Uh, and this is Pixel.” She gestured towards her fish. “They don’t really talk a whole lot, or at all, but sometimes they’ll use my phone when they feel like it.”

Pixel rolled their eyes and weakly waved his fin. 

Subject 812 merely lifted a finger off the ground to wave back. They had enough movement for the day. But they sighed, taking in one final breath before going completely silent.

“Ohh… You're probably still adjusting… Okay, so,” Harmony grabbed a hold of a bright red pack of fabric. Out she pulled a roll of white cloth, and seemingly some tape. “I’m going to check the dressings I put on, 812. You had an IV drip that fell out, and I don’t want it to get infected.”

“D-dead…” They tried to cough out.

They could feel the pressure of Harmony lifting up an arm of hers, but nothing else. “What was that?”

“You can call me Dead…fish…”

“Deadfish? Like. A fish that’s dead?” A chill came off one of their arms, likely from the bandages coming off. Warmth followed.

Subject 812 nodded in response, but they received none from Harmony. Instead, they only felt her warm hands wrapping another layer of cloth just around their forearm.

“I do not know how to medically diagnose this.” Harmony muttered to herself, but her attention quickly focused back. “Just asking… How would you, like, spell that?”

“Uhh…” Their voice was growing weaker by the second, only able to say so many more letters before it would give out completely. It was worth a try, especially since signing the letter was already out of the question; the hand not being tended to was practically bound to the floor.

They tried to clear her throat, to little avail. “D…E-D…” Another breath, hopefully the last. “F-1…S-H.” The last letters came out more breathy and hoarse, almost devoid of any actual voice within them. 

“That’s you?” Harmony said, which actually caught Dedf1sh off guard. “You wrote those songs right? Like… Oh like the ones with the numbers. Number 14 blush?”

“Crush…” Dedf1sh whispered back. 

“Ohh, right. Your music is super fresh, by the way. I liked hearing it on my way here.”

“You did?” It was hard to convey the disbelief when her voice was shot, but Ded1sh tried her best.

“Yeah! I’ve heard thirsty, crush, and party before, but never the one that was playing in the halls. It was cool! The march tempo and the reversed vocals were something that really scratched like… a musical itch I didn’t know I had. Maybe I should talk to the band about that…”

“You… Test subject?”

“Hm? Tests? Oh, like what Padre was talking about. No, not a test subject. I’m just lost…heh.” 

“But… my music?”

“Oh, ok.” Harmony set down Dedf1sh’s hand, and shuffled around to the other. “Well, there’s a Squid Beatz mod called ‘In Memoriam’ that Marina made—Wait, you’re alive?!”

Oh. Harmony really was new here. 

“I probably should have said that earlier but like. I just realized Marina made that mod in your memory because like. She thought you were dead or something. But now you’re not! So yay.” She waved her hands in a kind of flourish. “Hooray!”

Correcting Harmony would probably take too much energy compared to anything else she could do. So they let it slide.

“Sorry, you… probably already knew that. Do you want to sit up? I doubt laying down there is very comfortable.”

It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. Dedf1sh had long been over concerning themself with things such as that. But laying down did seem a little stifling. Her field of view wasn’t as large as they would like. So they nodded.

Their eyes followed Harmony’s hands as they slid beneath their back, and gently lifted them up off the ground. Dedf1sh had to engage their core muscles to an unanticipated degree, enough to cause a dull ache. 

The room around them was familiar, if not a little decayed from her last time there. It was the hallway just outside her audio room. If they went through the effort of focusing her eyes, they could see the bits of an elevator just around the corner.

“So, how are you feeling?” Harmony had moved to their side, putting the roll of bandages away into the first aid kit. 

Dedf1sh looked down at their body. They were greeted with the same sickly green skin they were expecting. 

But then their gaze drifted down their legs, and suddenly that changed. Just around their knees, the sickly green had faded to a complete blackening which crept all the way down to their red toes. 

Small flecks of muted greens, dancing blues, and deep reds etched themselves in the black backdrop. Glancing over, she could see her left arm was similarly afflicted, with the same black crawling up to her elbow. 

It reminded them of gangrene, but Dedf1sh immediately dismissed the idea. Gangrene required their tissues to be living in the first place. 

“Substandard,” Dedf1sh finally replied. Despite gangrene being ruled out, that only left more questions as to what exactly afflicted them. Very few things affected them anymore. Not bacteria, virus, nor parasite. 

Anything organic would have been purged immediately, so their options were limited.

“Are you in any pain?” Harmony asked. Dedf1sh shook their head immediately. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head again, but before Harmony could ask another question, Dedf1sh whispered one of her own, finding it to be easier than speaking outright. “Where are my shoes?”

“Oh, they’re just over here!” Harmony turned around, and pushed forward a pile of her boots, her shades, her hat, and her CQ-80. “Sorry, I took them off cause I didn’t want you to get a fungal infection or like, that thing… that everyone apparently got in the Great Turf War..”

“Trench foot?” Dedf1sh asked, looking back down at their blackened legs. It was a good theory, considering the condition was one that didn't require much in the way of biological catalysts.

“Ok. So your sound room? Flooded,” Harmony started. “But the only reason you didn't splat was because of that spawn point you stood on.”

Perhaps it was trench foot, but that wouldn't really explain how shiny their legs appeared. Or the multicolored flecks which seemed to shift in the light.

“See, I have no clue what that really is, but it looks cool!” They noticed that Harmony took to packing up a few of her own things. “Like one of those fancy jewels.”

Dedf1sh almost asked what she meant, but decided against it once she realized they’d need to take another breath to ask the question. Instead hey simply took to observing what it was as Harmony messed around with her belongings. 

She brought out a CQ-80, an employee model, Dedf1sh noted. If she wasn’t a test subject, she must have just been an unsanitized employee? Or she somehow took one from another employee. 

Lost, is what she described it as. Not a very descriptive term.

Dedf1sh watched as Harmony’s hands flicked the joystick. Hers were marred as well. Not with the darkness like her own, but instead dappled with deep red streaks, puffy from inflammation. One hand moved to clutch her forehead, as her eyes squeezed shut for a brief moment. Her breath turned shaky, and Pixel swam by her side, nuzzling her forehead. 

It was interesting. Foreign and unpredictable. There didn’t seem to be a forecast of her movements like other employees had. Almost as if her movements were unintentional. It was a sight to observe. 

Harmony’s eyes eventually opened once more, and she sighed, giving Pixel a small scratch behind their fins. “Oh, Dedf1sh, there was an IV in your green arm. It kinda fell out as I dragged you here, but Pixel picked it up. Was it important or anything?”

Her eyes fell to her right arm, finding that Harmony was right. Rather than the tube of ink, Dedf1sh was met with the bandages Harmony wrapped around her earlier. The IV laid at her side, completely empty except for microscopic dregs of sanitized ooze.

Dedf1sh shook her head before whispering once more. “Supplementary sanitization treatment. As long as I can receive more, I believe all will be well.”

“Huh. Okay. Well, that's cool.” Harmony’s hand drifted once more to her forehead, rubbing idle circles in her temple as she thought. “Guess we should get you some of that while we trek around.”

“Destination?”

“Oh, um. We're heading over to the CQ-80 repair facility.” She clicked her device, bringing up the map. Only much more jittery than Dedf1sh remembered it being. “Yeah, I gotta fix it up. It can't request stops on the subway. And there's no nodes that I can really fix on a train.”

Harmony scrolled across the map, and even from the angle she was at, Dedf1sh saw the large amounts of glitched out shapes, and garbled text. Her ears twitched when Harmony let out a rather sudden groan. “Augh, this is going to take forever.”

If her memory didn’t fail her, the repair center was simply an off-shoot of the production facility. Closer to the center of the corporation then. It’d be easiest to arrive by corporate train, but apparently that wasn’t an option for Harmony. 

What's worse, is Harmony was scrolling back and forth on the maps, constantly rereading, and rechecking the few boxes that were left intact. 

But, Dedf1sh flicked their gaze towards the corner once more, eyeing the elevator. Their hand gently inched up, fighting against the smothering weight of gravity. The skin shifted in the light, making the flecks of color dance around their skin as they brought their arm up, and pointed just down the corner. 

“The doors.” Was all Dedf1sh really cared to say. 

“Hm?” Harmony turned where she was sitting, looking where she had pointed. “What about them?”

“It should take you there.” 

“Oh neat.” Harmony simply said. She sat back against the wall, and Dedf1sh’s arm collapsed down onto their lap. 

But Harmony didn't make any motion to move, instead staying right where she was. She pulled a knee up to her chest and laid her forehead upon it.

If they could spare the effort, Dedf1sh would question it. But even whispers required breathing, and just that was too much for little pay off.

So they watched instead. Anything really. 

But most things around we're static.

So Dedf1sh watched Harmony. Her short breaths, twitchy movements, and timid vocalizations. She moved around a fair bit, jostling Pixel every other time. 

Until the two of them laid eerily still, and Dedf1sh realized the both of them had fallen back asleep.

It was rather odd. Somehow every peculiar movement Harmony and Pixel had made suddenly stopped, left with a simple rise and fall of their bodies. 

Strange, how they could fall asleep so easily. 

Very strange indeed.

Chapter Text

Once Harmony awoke again, then they truly began getting ready. Dedf1sh watched as she shoved item after item into her backpack.

Snacks were brought out only to be devoured within minutes. For Pixel, it was more like seconds. They'd swim into a bag of salt and vinegar chips, and would come out precisely 34 seconds later, having eaten every single one of them. Dedf1sh could tell because after Harmony crumpled up the bag, there was no crunch of leftovers, only the crinkle of cellophane.

Harmony offered Dedf1sh a couple pretzels, but they simply refused. A drink of water was met with the same denial.

Soon enough, wrappers were shoved into pockets, and shoes were laced back on.

Well, Harmony's shoes were. Dedf1sh was trying desperately to delicately tie each of the laces around each other with their newly trembling hands. For some reason, their blackened arm could only faintly feel each lace it gripped, but the other could barely grip at all, fumbling with the aglet as it fell between the spaces of their fingers. It was a struggle, crossing laces across each other limply, but soon enough, they were tied in a satisfactory manner. Thus began a new challenge: getting up.

At first, Dedf1sh attempted to press themself up with their feet, which worked for a second, up until their body hovered just above the ground. Then, the hinges of their knees decided to slam them back down onto Harmony's weighted blanket. So then Dedf1sh pressed their hands down on the ground to aid their legs. The attempt was met with similar results, of Dedf1sh falling back down into their sitting position.

Something akin to a tingle ran along their back, but disappeared almost as soon as they noticed.

As Dedf1sh moved to attempt their third trial, they noticed two arms, outstretched in front of them. Harmony's arms. Up close, Dedf1sh could see just how rough they looked. Red bumps arranged in branching patterns, going all the way up to her biceps. 

“Grab on, I’ll help you up,” She said. Dedf1sh placed their hands in Harmony’s, and Harmony gently pulled them up. “And up you go.”

It still took effort on Dedf1sh’s part to adjust their center of gravity and stand up completely straight.

The tingles in their back returned, strangely insistent on staying this time. Harmony hissed at the same time, as if pulling Dedf1sh up hurt them. So Dedf1sh quickly let go of Harmony’s hands, instead focusing on standing on their own two legs. It was easier than getting up, but still offered a fair bit of a challenge. The tingles, which could only be likened to TV static, consumed their entire back, and parts of their legs. Well, the parts they could feel, anyway.

Harmony, recovering quickly from the pain, ducked down to pack up her weighted blanket, before picking up Dedf1sh’s visor and CQ-80 for them. They took them, and quickly donned the visor. Well, they meant to.

Instead, Dedf1sh’s hand hovered just in front of their face. Their left hand, they noted. The faint glow of the HUD in the glasses seemed to resonate in their head, similar to a dissonant chord. 

“You sure you wanna wear sunglasses in here? It’s already pretty dark.”

Perhaps Harmony was right. The lights here were already dim. Certainly abandoning regulation for the sake of visibility wouldn’t be completely prohibited. 

“Unless it's like a comfort thing, then I totally get it.” 

Dedf1sh shook their head, finding their hand had already shut the arms of the shades, and hooked them on the collar of their dress for storage.

“You ready then?” Harmony asked. Dedf1sh nodded. “Heh. Lead the way… And I’ll uh, light it.”

Dedf1sh decided to take their first step. Which they found much harder than getting up. There seemed to be little input on where exactly their feet were, other than the all consuming static, which seemed to only buzz higher in intensity whenever their foot met the ground. The front half of their body slumped forward, just to make up for the effort.

The second step was more of the same, a burning static that they felt deep within their muscles. They dragged a hand along the side of the wall, just to feel a semblance of stability in their gait.

Steps slowly turned into walks, however much it stung, and Harmony trailed not far behind. Dedf1sh watched as the concrete took on a more pinkish hue from the light. They turned the corner, reaching the sliding doors. Only two more burning steps, and they reached the control panel. 

Their claws scraped against the surface of her CQ-80 as they linked it to the door. When it finally flashed its confirmation message, Dedf1sh input the room code that ingrained itself within their mind. They’ve filed enough CQ-80 reports themself to warrant it.

Then, they tapped the enter button, and stepped back to watch the doors open. But instead, the small screen on the panel flashed a bright red, and simply stated:

Error: 503. Requested location cannot be accessed. Please redirect your request to different server, or try again later.

“That’s not a happy program…”

As Dedf1sh found themself doing to a lot of Harmony's inane statements, they let it be, and instead shifted the subject. “I will try and send us to the closest lobby then.” 

That required a bit of searching on their CQ-80 map. Which was remarkably empty. 

“Yeah, It’s a little wonky. I’ve been fixing what I can. But I'm not the best.” 

Scrolling through the remnants of the map, they eventually found some kind of lobby. Not too far from where they were, but just far enough that the Commander wouldn’t make a fuss about the time to distance ratio.

Once Dedf1sh entered the code for it, the small screen blinked with a green light instead, reading: Request accepted. Trolley incoming. Destination: Room #314M3 - Recruitment Facility.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a long, dark railway, and directly in front of them, a hand-trolley, covered with a thin glass dome to keep out surrounding water. However, what differed from protocol were the congregations of carnation coral sprawled over the dome.

“This isn’t an elevator…” Harmony remarked. “Wait, Cumber, is that you?” Harmony nearly jumped onto the cart, greeting the two sea cucumbers.

“Hm. They usually send an automated one,” Dedf1sh said as they stepped on.

Harmony was already talking to the C.Q. Cumber which was manning the hand-trolley. 

“I didn’t know you were out here!” 

“Well, every cart needs a conductor!” It replied, and Harmony giggled a little bit in response. 

“It’s good to see you. Can you… uh…say hi to Iso Padre for me?”

That name caused a wave of deja vu to rush through Dedf1sh. Perhaps it was something they had written a track about before. But the name eluded them. Regret didn’t match it, nor did frisk. 

Perhaps a track that was rejected then. #3 seemed like a good contender. 

“Of course Harmony! And you’ve seemed to pick up Subject #812 along your way.”

Suddenly, their decision to recover their voice fell through, as they found themself asking: “Shouldn’t we get moving?”

“I was just catching up…” Harmony said. “But yeah, sorry to run you all off schedule.” 

“It’s no issue.” C.Q. Cumber responded.

The dome had finally sealed, enclosing each of them in the trolley. C.Q. Cumber extended two long limbs from its body and began pulling on the lever to propel the cart. Dedf1sh took to leaning against the glass. It eased the everpresent tingle that plagued her legs. 

Harmony however, seemed to shake the slightest bit as the cart began to rumble. Parts of her body moved around with no clear purpose. Her hands flapped about, with one grabbing a set of tentacles that flew high in the air. 

“Are your muscles weak?” Dedf1sh asked. 

“What?”

“Your body is trembling.” 

“Oh, uh…” Dedf1sh watched as Harmony added another tentacle to the bundle in her hand, before pulling them down. “I guess so?”

“Perhaps you should sit down.” They cocked their head to a nearby crate, sitting just on the corner of the trolley. Under normal circumstances, they would have just told her to sit down on it, but limiting their word count seemed to be for the best.

Harmony took the hint, and crossed the edge of the trolley to the crate. The lid was slightly askew, but rather than fitting it back on properly, Harmony seemed to push it further to the sides. “Are these… Coraloids?”

She picked up two of the objects, holding them up to see. In one hand, a black handheld camera, in the other, a small pack of film in the other. 

“We use them for tests.” C.Q. Cumber responded, and Harmony immediately turned back towards them. 

“Oh right. Vaporwave. You guys love that here…” Harmony paused, staring at C.Q. Cumber. “Also— um— have you uh… always been able to do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“The… arm thing?” 

“Yes.” C.Q. Cumber responded matter-of-factly.

“Oh, okay. Got it.” The weakness Harmony exhibited seemed to quell just the tiniest bit. Whilst still trembling, Dedf1sh noted that she stood up a tad straighter, and her body seemed a bit looser, and flowed a bit more as she began stuffing the Coraloid and the film into her bag.

“You’re not going to sit down?” Ded1sh asked, to which Harmony blinked. Then, a few long seconds later, Harmony shook her head out, flailng her tentacles around. C.Q. flattened itself against the ground to avoid them.

“Oh, I didn’t hit you, did I?” She asked.

“No,” CQ responded. “150 had already told us of your abilities, but it’s rather convenient, since we are unable to feel pain.”

“Oh neat. Wish I could do that.” 

“Kamabo can do that for you.”

“It can?” Harmony asked. “How does it do that?” 

“Well it’s a simple process really—”

“We’re here.” C.Q. Cumber said. Which was odd, because it said that several seconds before they had actually arrived. But perhaps it was simply just a calculation error. But eventually the cart gently slowed and halted completely. Much less sudden than the start, making Dedf1sh’s muscles lack the intense ripples.

Dedf1sh stumbled out first, uneasy from the sensation of her own rippling flesh. 

“You alright?” Harmony asked. 

“In due time.” Luckily, the recruitment area was near some sanitization facilities. It wouldn’t be long until she should be able to administer treatment once again. They still leaned their shoulder against the wall whenever she could. Harmony quickly followed behind, telling C.Q. Cumber to tell Padre I’m doing alright, before meeting Dedf1sh at their side.

The name once again felt familiar, but they simply filed it under track #3 , and left it at that. Perhaps, if time ever allowed, they’d remake it and see if Kamabo would accept a new composition. That is, if Kamabo was even accepting compositions. 

Harmony moved to take out her CQ-80, when a booming voice cut her off. Dedf1sh recognized it as the Commanders.

“Greetings, subject Numbers 812, and 10,009. Welcome to the gates of the promised land. Please, state where your task brings you.”

“Uhh… We’re headed to the,” Dedf1sh watched as Harmony fumbled with her words. “The CQ-80 repair center? I think that’s what it’s called.”

They waited for a moment. The static of the intercom never cut out, instead leaving the three of them in silent waiting until it blasted out the words: “ Error: 404. Please restate your request, using official room codes.”

Surely the Commander of all people would understand the precarious position their voice was in. But, they complied nonetheless. “Room Code: L135.”

“ Error 503. The requested location cannot be accessed. Please redirect your request, or move down your task list to a new location.”

“Task list? You all still have those?”

Dedf1sh simply nodded, and brought up their own to show Harmony. 

Current task - Live mix track #20 - Splattack!

“Oh, I’ve heard that one!”

Recalling what Harmony had said earlier, “Squid Beatz?”

Harmony nodded as Dedf1sh scrolled down their task list.

Current task - Reconfigure treatment.

Harmony brought up her own, which appeared in a familiar language, though not one she’s had practice reading in the past few years.

“Huh. Mine just says ‘Configure treatment.’” Harmony noted. “Isn’t that the stuff you were talking about earlier?”

Dedf1sh nodded, before whispering: “Yes. Sanitization treatment. But it seems we have greater matters at hand.”

“Yup.” Harmony shrugged and trudged through the lobby, leaving Dedf1sh to follow behind. Many of the chairs were tipped over, and a few puddles had gathered along the floor, evaporating slowly, and leaving trace amounts of salty white powder in their wake. “So, F1sh… wait, can I call you that?”

No ordinary employee would call her that. Few employees even called them Dedf1sh when Subject #812 was much more precise. But, if it got the point across in a shorter amount of syllables, then fine. They gave Harmony a nod.

“Cool, so F1sh. Got any ideas where we’re supposed to head? You’re kinda my only lead here.”

Racking their own memory proved hazy, so they let their legs carry them instead. Surely, their faith in Commander Tartar would guide their way.

Towards a processing terminal for employees, apparently. The both of them were met with an arcade-machine terminal, and went through the process of linking their CQ-80 to it, and laying their left palm flat on the sensor, waiting for the incoming pinprick. 

And it came. 

And Dedf1sh was left with a sharp sting in their fingertips, making their body yank away their arm before they even had the right to consider otherwise. 

“Yeouch, that stuff hurts. You need a band-aid for that?” Harmony asked, shuffling to grab the first aid kit. 

Hurt? The pricks left a sting on each of their fingers, sharp enough that they might as well have gone all the way through. But Dedf1sh never felt the needle itself, only the sharp impression of its presence. This had never happened before.

They felt the urge to tear the entire hand off, surely that would get rid of the hurt. But, if they did do that, their work would be seriously impaired. Maybe Harmony's suggestion of a bandage on them wouldn’t hurt. 

Dedf1sh panned their hand over to Harmony, who placed the sticky fabric over their fingers, absorbing the flecks of cyan blood, which almost seemed to glow against their opalescent skin.