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“Agent Three, come’n help me with this...!” Callie whisper-shouted, calling out.
Quirina rushed over from the other side to help Callie block the metal gate with the dumpster. They tried to push, but didn't seem to contribute much.
It was the very early morning of June 2nd—or it could've been June 1st, ME 2016, just a little after midnight. There were no lamps on the streets, but the darkness was lit up slightly by a purple glow.
They were all wearing the uniforms—the black, silky sweaters, turf shorts, the high-tech sneakers, the scarf thing. Quirina’s uniform was oversized for them.
Callie let out a recuperating breath. “Thanks, Three. That'll hold for enough, come on.”
Quirina ran back to the two dark-grey duffel bags they dropped by the stone wall of the empty, buildingside parking lot. With a little hurry, they flipped their Hero Shot sling over to their lower back. They fitted both of their nylon handles up over their opposite, right shoulder. They got snagged on the special-limiter tight on Quirina’s wrist for a moment. They were heavy.
Inside were the hastily-formed trio’s construction worker vests, ditched as a rule in night-time action as their cover fell apart. Miscellaneous equipment—binoculars, spare bandage rolls and walkie-talkies, maps.
And a brown envelope for a CD.
Quirina dashed from one end of the lot to the other and with a running start, super-jumped up to the ladder, but didn’t reach it. They hit the uneven asphalt hard. The contents of their duffel bags spilled out on the ground.
“Agent Three, what the fuck are you doing?” came out on their waistside radio, from the distinct voice of Marie.
“Three, you alright?” Callie interjected.
“Can you walk?”
They scraped their knees. Dirt. It hurt. And already green blood was running down it.
They pushed down on the radio, “I’m fine.”
“Then get up. Did you damage the disc?”
Quirina opened the unsealed envelope. “Calamari Inkantation”, LIVE BACKING TRACK 4:24 was written in a printed font. Everything else was scribbled out by a black marker. New song? What'd they need a backing track so badly for?
It seemed to be intact, in the darkness at least. They radioed in, “It seems okay.”
“It better be. Hurry up here. And don't fall again.”
They gathered up all their things, and zipped up the bags this time.
They moved backwards from the building as they pulled back out their Hero Shot and inked the wall next to the ladder. Swimming up, they jumped backwards and grabbed onto the rail as they transitioned out of squid form.
They began climbing up. Slowly. Rung by rung. These bags were heavy.
Ting. Clank, clank. Ting. Clank, clank.
There were no cicada sounds as expected from the young summer. Instead, the barely-audible, ambient, industrial hum worked without a stop to keep the whole network of domes functioning.
The only other sounds were Callie and Marie’s climbing, far above their head. They only stared forward at the featureless, concrete wall. They let their mind wander.
...Quirina had never murdered anybody before. Not really. They had thought about it—God, they had thought about it. And they've come close to doing it, too, but they've never gone through with extinguishing the color in somebody's eyes.
Well, no—they didn’t... If you... if you stretched it, right?
Quirina's grip on the steps loosened.
The morning of May 30th, 2016. Day 3, Quirina thought at least. They weren’t good at keeping track of time in general, even when they weren’t swimming around dodging ink all day.
Octarians mornings were strange. The gradual charge of the artificial ‘sun’ and the perfect gradients on the displays outlining the edges of the domes created the impression of a golden dawn. Yet it only hung straight above, static like a lightbulb, casting a harsh shadow down.
One by one, they all fell to the Agent 3’s Hero Shot.
‘Takozones’, Captain Cuttlefish called them, from the word in their language. Elite footsoldiers of the Octarian Army, guarding a batch of little Zapfish. In my way.
They smashed the glass—with their padded elbow, they learned their lesson the first time. Ones they splatted would respawn, they splatted them again.
Just one Zapfish was left. As they shot another one above their eye. Instead of exploding into a splash of ink, the body fell down intact, organs seeping out. They had seen this happen before. Quirina didn’t like to look at the organs. Though they didn’t feel too bad about it—after all, it was them or it. They would’ve done the same. Right.
What Quirina assumed to be the enemy commanding officer yelled out something in Octarian, and they all scattered, retreating. They chased them down as they all super-jumped away.
Except for one.
As they dashed towards one particular one, one that seemed to be just standing paralyzed, it shouted at them, in clear Inkadian.
“WAIT! Wait! I surrender, please!” it threw away its Octoshot and raised its hands, moving them between several surrender positions, unconfidently, “I speak... uh, um, Teuthid language, yes?” The crimson color in their tentacles disappeared like it was nothing, revealing a dull, light blue-green.
The sound of the last of the rest of the Takozones jumping away echoed.
“‘Teuthid language’? Do you mean Inkadian?” Quirina inquired, still holding it at gunpoint.
“Y-yes! I listen to ‘Inkadian’ music and I watch Inkadian shows. I never wanted to fight, they forced me. I never shot at you once, if you... If— If you see the gun, I... It's full. Please don't kill me...” the octoling sniffled, breaking down into tears.
Sure enough, it didn't look like a single pellet of ink was discharged from the Octoshot. Quirina carefully picked it up and held it away by the pinch. They lowered their own gun.
“I don't want to die... Please, I have p—parents which I love...”
Quirina didn’t know what to do, and something about them tickled their insides. “Um, hey, hey, I believe you, calm down. I'm not going to kill you. It's, um, it's fine.” Quirina hesitantly reached out and wiped a tear off her left cheek.
The octoling sniffled again, “Th-thank you. You are good. I never wanted war, only peace.”
God damn it.
“Yeah, um, that's, uh, a good thing to want. I think.” Quirina looked away as they scratched the back of their neck. “I’m Quirina, what's your name?” they blurted out about as quickly as they thought about it.
“M-my name? I'm, um, Isa Kai.” she spelled out as if it weren’t her own.
After a beat, Quirina darted away and bit the top of their index finger.
Their captain radioed in.“Agent 3, what’s the hold up? All you have to do is rescue the last Zapfish, just like last time. You can do it.”
“Yeah, Three, get it and let’s ‘get!” Callie also chimed in.
“Um, I ran into an issue. Can you come over here, Cap’n?”
“Sure, kiddo, whatever you need.” the Cap’n responded.
After a beat, Quirina darted away and bit the top of their index finger.
“Hey, look, so, my captain and my... um, coworker are gonna get over here and we’re gonna sort everything out, okay?”
“Yes, okay, good.”
The scene went silent except for the ambient humming as they both idled. Isa’s legs were still shaking.
“Can I take off my goggles, they’re... uncomfortable...?”
“Mm, okay, I guess.”
Quirina had never seen a Takozone’s eyes before. Isa’s eyes were a brown, and their pupils were shaped like upside down eights, though they only stared at them for a millisecond before looking away.
Quirina sighed. “So...” they started—
“WATCH OUT THREE!” Callie yelled as she rolled down the depot with her roller.
Quirina rushed in front of Isa and held back Callie mid-swing. The green ink landed on them.
“Three, what the hell are you doing! There’s a Takozone right behind you!”
“She surrendered, she has no weapon, she’s harmless.”
“Is this a joke? There are no ‘harmless’ Octarians. Step aside!”
“No!”
Callie and Quirina struggled for a bit, before Cap’n Cuttlefish shouted out: “Agents, cease! Immediately!”
Callie kicked Quirina off.
“Agent 3, why is this Octarian here with you?”
“She’s not a threat, look at her! She didn’t even fire her weapon once—”
“Agent, I thought I stated clearly: All Octarians are the enemy. Without exception. Or are you just out to disappoint me?”
They hung their head down. They felt like throwing up from those words.
“Quirina...?” Isa, quiet up till this point, asked them.
“And you told it your name?”
“I...”
“Agent 1, a moment with you, please,” the Cap’n ushered Callie off for who knew what.
Isa spoke up, shivering in her voice, “...W-what was that...?”
...
Quirina suddenly turned around and desperately grabbed Isa by the arms. They were ice cold. “Heyyy, don’t panic! Don’t! It’s nothing! You’re gonna be fine! You believe me, don’t you?” They let go. Quirina lit up their signature slight smile, “It's okay!”
Quick stomps behind them, and in a blink, Callie shoved a handgun to her head and—
Quirina fell down the ladder several steps before instinctively catching onto one with their arms.
Click, “Agent 3, what the hell is with you? Are you dehydrated?”
They were stunned by the shock. Tears were flowing down Quirina’s face. They whispered to themselves, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”
“Three?”
“Octarians are the enemy, Three.” Callie stated.
As Quirina reached the final step, they were helped up by Callie, who immediately pulled them over to the side of a rooftop generator, where Marie was also huddled.
From here they saw the whole of Dome-01. ‘Octo City’, the capital of it all. And a crowded skyline that lived up to the name. It had without a doubt been the prettiest and most intact dome out of all they’ve seen. Lamps pointed upwards from the ground provided the dome with even columns of light. The screens—no, screen had covered the dome whole in a giant, perfect half-circle. There was no artificial sun at the top—did the screen itself provide sunlight?
“Took you long enough. It was clearly a mistake to make you carry both bags. Agent 1, take one.”
They passed one of them over to Callie. “Y’know, coulda contributed anythin’ at all, Vicecaptain. Just sayin’.” Callie said to Marie.
“Oh, sorry, I was just coordinating this whole thing so we don’t get turned into milkshakes by the whole force of the OKJG.” Marie looked back at her.
Callie hissed.
Quirina hated their constant arguments. They just wanted them to stop fighting.
Straight in front of them from the rooftop, at the edge of the dome and about less than half a dome away, and covered in Octoseekers and Octocopters was a giant, angular, multilayered structure distinguished from the rest. Quirina didn’t know anything about architecture to label it, but it looked cube-y. Kind of artsy.
“Unit 1, call in.” sounded on Marie’s radio.
“‘Inkadian National Intelligence Service ‘New Squidbeak’ Splatoon’, present, waiting.”
“Movement is a’go. Stay fresh.” The voice coincided with a bazooka attack on one of the ‘copters orbiting the complex, sending it to crash straight into it.
“Let’s go.” the Vicecaptain ordered.