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Action
The first time an Octarian slinks from a nearby kettle to see him, Octavio crosses his arms. “Well?”
The Octoling bows. “My hypnoshades are being watched by Elites Brine, Wasabi, and Rice. What you say to me will be relayed to them.”
The head of Splatlandian Intelligence—which really translates to surface intelligence, since they don't have any agents in Inkopolis—his second in command, and the minister of education, who directs Octarians on their paths in life. “That is more than acceptable. What do you have to tell me?”
“Despite our best efforts, only one member of the New Squidbeak Splatoon has been equipped with hypnoshades, but she's adapting well,” he says. “We have a variety of pieces of information, including what you transferred on your prison's conditions. She has now simultaneously convinced Agent Two that she's the only one in charge of keeping you imprisoned, and yet believes Agent Two is responsible for you.”
Octavio laughs loud and long. “Excellent. Is there a plan for getting me out of here?”
“No, Great DJ. We seek your advice on that. Getting all that's needed here, and in a way that won't raise suspicion, will take some doing.”
At this, the DJ smiles. “Our Agent One is an actress. Here's what you need to do...”
Weeks passed quickly then, as his Octarians crept up every day, feeding him traditional food and keeping him updated on Agent One's control. He kept them advised on One and Two's real names, the whereabouts of Cuttlefish and Agent Three, until the morning two splatoons of Octolings come to the surface.
Not even a minute later, Agent One squids through and is immediately approached by one of his octolings, leading her away to sit at a chair. He pokes gently at her face, adding to the immersion, while two other octolings stand near by, fiddling with their laptop, adjusting what she sees in the shades to match what she feels . He smiles and turns away when they present her outfit. “It's a variation on the Octarian Armor that has the added bonus of no armor and tracking devices installed,” says one of his Octarians.
Octavio turns to the one speaking and smiles properly at last. “Brine.”
“DJ.” She bobs into octoform to bow, then returns to walk form and straightens. “To minimize the odds of damage to you, she's going to hit your prison in three different locations. I'm going to put an umbrella through the food hole for you; you can use it to block the glass that will shower on the third hit.”
Octavio nods. The umbrella is small, small enough to fit in the slot and as she closes it on her side it opens on his. Octavio opens it; he won't be able to fully shield, but it will protect his eyes and tentacles.
That will have to be enough.
With that, Agent One comes over, grabs the large surface roller, and poses. “On your mark, DJ.”
Octavio barks a laugh. “Action!”