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Chapter Text

H4CK3R ducked a flaming ball of pure lime-green light, and it hit the white wall behind him. The Chosen One - or NO ONE, now, he mentally corrected himself with renewed satisfaction - tried his best to lean as far away as possible, but, since he was tied to a chair, that was not very much. H4CK3R hoped he was fearing for his life as Mitsi had probably been as he'd ended her. He deserved this. He more than deserved this.

The orange hollow-headed kid in front of him growled in fury as he realized he had missed again.

H4CK3R forced a grin onto his face. "I'm afraid you're going to have to try harder than that if you want to rescue your dear little friends," he called out, baiting his younger brother.

He growled again. "Touch them and I'll fucking destroy you!"

The only reason H4CK3R was doing this, risking his life, was to test the kid's incredible power. Not only was it severely destructive, but it could also bring people back from the dead, or so The Dark Lord had told him. She'd told him a lot of things, actually, but that was the only thing that had stuck.

The only reason he was doing this was for Mitsi.

Lost in his thoughts, he was almost too late to notice that his foe had risen into the air, his head grazing the ceiling of the Box, his eyes glowing even brighter as lasers shot out from them both towards him.

Almost.

He thrust both his hands out, blue lasers of his own shooting outwards to meet the green ones. A white ball of light appeared at the point where they met, and H4CK3R snarled, the force of the green lasers pushing him back slightly. 

The kid was strong, no doubt about it, but he had to be stronger.

Failure was not an option.

Not when he was so close.

The light between them grew, adopting a turquoise tint. He heard Agent's voice from outside the Box, but both the thick walls and the unnatural sound of the lasers swallowed the words whole.

The white walls of the Box suddenly flashed red, almost making H4CK3R lose focus. The mistake cost him a few more inches.

That can't happen again.

The kid let loose a roar of fury, and his bright lasers increased in thickness.

The turquoise-white light grew and grew, until H4CK3R could make out nothing else. He fell to his knees with the effort of holding his own, the power gradually draining.

No...

No!

Need more power!

A world of white consumed everything, forcing H4CK3R's eyes closed.

Chapter Text

Who was he?

He didn't know.

The only things he knew were the pounding in his head and the impenetrable darkness that he was currently trapped in.

You have to get up.

He heard nothing, so the words were probably just his thoughts, but he felt incapable of stirring. The darkness was nice. Peaceful. Surely a few more minutes wouldn't hurt...

Get up.

The thought was louder this time. A small crack appeared in the dark, casting light over him. He could make out a bright blue sky, could see the clouds drifting lazily without a care in the world, could hear the muffled sound of traffic and music. It seemed so loud out there...

GET UP.

Chosen opened his eyes, gasping. Where was he now? Was he still bound to that chair? Was Victim about to beat him to a pulp again?

He sat up, his fight or flight reflex screaming at him. And right now, flight was winning.

Deep breaths.

That bright sky probably meant he wasn't in that Box anymore, but that didn't make sense.

And yet, the sweet, fresh air on his face suggested otherwise.

Deep breaths.

Chosen looked down. He noticed that he was lying on dark grey tarmac, a circle of three white arrows painted around him. Were they meant to be a target? Was this some sort of sick joke?

Deep breaths.

He looked around. He was surrounded by tall, light grey blocks of flats, washing lines that sagged slightly under the weight of colourful clothes strung up between a few of them. Train tracks - which hung in the sky, he realized with shock - curved gently off to the right and out of view. Even as he watched, a long train bearing an assortment of stickers and graffiti tags sped across them.

He was also surrounded by people -

He frowned.

He didn't know what they were, but they weren't people. A few of them had masks connecting their eyes, while others bore white circles sticking out of their moist-looking hair.

His frown deepened.

That was not hair. They looked more like... tentacles?

Fear swelled within him.

What were they?

One with green tentacles approached him tentatively.

"Hey, uh, you okay?"

There was something off about their voice, and Chosen quickly scurried backwards, as far away from them as possible, until his back met a solid wall.

He leapt to his feet and took off running instead.

"Wait! Where are you going?!"

He didn't look back, just kept going.

These... these creatures were so abundant, and as he sped past, many shouted after him, all asking if he was okay.

Only when he was sure he was alone, Chosen stopped and leaned against the nearest wall, chest heaving. It was a positive that he wasn't in the Box anymore. But in its place were strange creatures that resembled sea creatures.

Just great, he thought.

He brushed his dreads out of his face -

Wait. Why did they feel slimy?

No, no, no, no, no.

He pinched one between two fingers, the slick texture making him cringe, and studied it. Curiously, it was white on the inside, but the outside was black, fading to red at the bottom. It also had the white circles he'd saw earlier.

Shit.

Why was he one of them? Was this some sort of simulation that Victim had forced him into?

No.... that's preposterous.

The fresh air felt too real, the sound too loud, the texture of his tentacles too wet. So, where was he?

A loud, musical sound suddenly echoed across the city, spooking Chosen and making him want to run again.

Instead, he found himself following it as it transitioned into upbeat music until he saw the colossal screen on the tallest tower in the city. It showed a black and white circle, the background splashed with bright yellow, dark blue and pale grey.

Two words flashed across the screen: ANARCHY SPLATCAST.

Like a news broadcast? he thought.

The background vanished, revealing three people, a bright yellow-tentacled girl without circles, a dark blue one with them, and a pale grey and white manta ray.

Explains the colours.

"Listen up, it's going down," began the blue one, tapping her white fan against the wooden box in front of her. "Repping the Splatlands, we are DEEP CUT!"

"Anarchy Splatcast, we're live!" exclaimed the yellow one, throwing her fists into the air.

The other swung her fan to the left. "You lip-synch, we drip ink..."

The manta ray spoke for the first time. "Ay-ay-ay!" The subtitles read, 'Shiver, Frye and Big Man!'

"Ay-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay!"

'Breaking news, this just in!"

"Oh? Got something good for us, Big Man?" asked the blue one. Two pictures appeared on the screen, replacing the reporters. One was of the tower with a huge blue catfish-looking thing curled around it, whereas the other was just the tower, how it looked now.

"Ay-ay-ay-ay! Ay-ay-ay-ay-ay!"

'It's a disaster! The Great Zapfish is missing!'

"What?! Again?!" the yellow one - Frye - yelled incredulously.

"Well, there goes our power source," the blue one - Shiver - replied disappointedly.

Power source?

"Ay-ay-ay-ay!"

'Once again, call us if you find the Zapfish!'

Shiver stood up, tapping her fan against the wooden box. "And that's all the time we've got. From Splatsville, that's a wrap."

Frye stood up too, and they swung their hands in front of them, three fingers extended on each hand. "Catch ya later!"

The screen went black.

Power source...

Chosen thought he knew who could've taken it, but it was based off a heavy load of speculation.

If he was here, in this strange new world full of strange new creatures, was it a possibility that the others would be here too?

Dark, Second...

Victim.

He was the one who was the most obsessed with power that Chosen knew. If he was here too, then it was most likely that he had made off with this ginormous city's power source.

Not that he understood how a catfish could power a single mobile phone, let alone a city of this size, but if it did, and Victim had it, these people were going to suffer.

If he stood by and let that happen, he'd be no better than the catfish thief.

But we've only just escaped, a small voice complained inside his head. We can't be expected to save a whole city!

But didn't we promise to be better? another argued. Would you have us break that promise?

"Fuck," he muttered, running a hand through his tentacles.

He agreed with them both - on one hand, he was so, so tired, but on the other, he had to help.

He couldn't explain it, he just had to.

But where would he begin?

Chapter Text

Marie held the two cups of scalding hot coffee with as few fingers as she could manage, because her black gloves were not thick enough to protect against the heat.

One was for Gramps, and she'd thought she might as well pick herself one up while she was there.

Because a dehydrated floating squid casually purchasing coffee would raise more than its fair share of awkward questions, and she did not feel like dealing with that today.

"God knows why that stupid overweight bear had to dehydrate him in order to launch a rocket to space. And of course the Great Zapfish is missing again," she muttered to herself.

After all, DJ Octavio has our trust for helping take Mr Grizz out. Of course he'd take advantage of that. We were fools to not have anticipated this.

She started heading back towards the grate that would lead back down into Alterna.

But something made her pause.

Perhaps it was the unfamiliar Octoling that stood in the middle of the square, staring up at the now black screen that had hosted the Anarchy Splatcast mere moments ago. His tentacles were a dark onyx black, highlighted with red. His chin was in his hand, and he was seemingly lost in thought.

Was it possible that he knew where the Zapfish was?

Don't be stupid, she thought. He was clearly new to this turf. Probably had never even heard of DJ Octavio.

Those deep crimson eyes met hers, slightly wide with fear. She waved with an awkward grimace before transforming and hopping down into Alterna.

                                                - - - - -

Where was she going?

To Chosen, that woman seemed older, more mature, more serious than any of the young-looking people hanging around the square.

She looked important, with her white coat with the green slits, the black, fingerless gloves, the black boots, the short white tentacles. The tired looking eyes.

She looked like she'd be able to help him search for his older brother.

She lifted one of her hands and waved as he stared at her, then she...

Chosen rubbed his eyes, suddenly sure that he was dreaming.

Her body collapsed, ink sloshing around her, to form as a small white squid on the ground.

How in the actual FUCK did she do that?!

The squid slipped down through the orange-rimmed grate and out of view. Chosen hurried over, testing it with his foot.

He had to talk to her. Which meant he had to get down there.

As that last thought finished forming, his legs suddenly gave way like jelly, and he yelled with shock as he became smaller, thinner. His chest and legs were suddenly much more sensitive to every loose rock on the ground.

Huh.

Guess I can do that, too.

While it was new, and scary, and felt uncomfortably weird, it was also cool to know that he could become smaller at will. It must be one of the perks of being one of the strange people that lived here. If only he'd had this ability back home, he could've-

Then, Chosen was falling.

The diamond-shaped holes of the grate tickled his moist form as he fell through. He was in free fall, and as he instinctively tried to use his fire, his human form returned.

His fire didn't work

Why didn't his fire work?!

His scream was smothered by a face full of snow. It didn't taste like snow, though - oddly enough, it tasted lukewarm, not cold, and salty instead of watery. He spat it out and pushed himself up off the ground, brushing his tentacles out of his face.

That was going to be a pain in the-

"What's the matter, kid? Never slipped through a grate before?" a sarcastic voice called out.

He looked around for the source, noticing four figures up ahead. One was the white-clad woman he was following, one was a floating orange-brown squid, and the other two were the same species as the first, unfamiliar to him. The squid and the first woman both held a yellow cup of coffee; Chosen was surprised to learn that those thin strips of flesh hanging from the squid could hold anything.

He stood up, brushing the snow off his body, and walked over. "You could say that, yeah. That was my first time transforming at all."

She spat out her coffee, which didn't soak into the snow like it would normally. "Shut up."

"I'm serious. I didn't even know we could do that until I saw you do it." He stopped in front of the quartet. "But enough about that. I know who stole your Great Catfish or whatever, and I need help looking for him."

The squid spoke in a high-pitched voice. "Yeah, we know who stole it: that rascal DJ Octavio! He's stolen it twice - twice! - before! Last time, admittedly, was not him, but this time, oh yes, you can bet all your food tickets it was him."

The white one rolled her eyes at his undoubtedly confused expression. "Basically, some octopus chump stole our Zapfish after gaining our trust by saving the world."

"That's not what I'm confused about. You see, before I came here, I was fighting this guy who is kind of obsessed with power. He's teamed up with someone who is also obsessed with power. If anyone stole it, I bet it was them. And I'll help you find them."

The one on the left, with long black tentacles tipped with yellow, clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh my cod, another agent already! So exciting!!!"

Chosen shook his head. "No, I don't want to be one of your agents, I need to find -"

"Well, unfortunately, we gave Agent 3 our last uniform," the squid interrupted.

"And our last Hero Shot," the white said.

"What's a -" he began.

"Oh wait, don't we have that Splatana?" the black asked.

Chosen didn't bother asking this time.

"Good point, Callie, hold on. Gramps, hold this." The squid took her coffee as she ran into the tall orange building behind them.

He cast about for something to say. "Who are you all, anyway?"

"I'm Callie," replied the black one. "This is the Captain." The one sat down to her right raised their hand in a peace sign. They wore a blue cap and yellow rags bearing different coloured patches. "That's Gramps - but you can call him Cuttlefish."

"Or Craig," suggested the squid.

"And that was my cousin Marie," she finished. "We're the NEW New Squidbeak Splatoon."

"Right," Chosen replied. He was completely lost, but didn't know where to begin.

Marie reappeared, carrying a thin, black long thing. The handle was round, with a limb extending out to the side, upward and then back again to be directly above it. Attached to that limb was a white, paintbrush-looking material. "Know what this is?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I thought so. It's a Splatana Wiper. Know how to use it?"

He shook his head again.

"God fucking damn it, do you know anything?! No, don't answer that. Just give it a swing."

She handed over the Wiper. It was so light, he thought. It balanced perfectly in his hand. He flipped it so the white part - which black had seeped over to cover - was facing the ground.

"Well, at least you know how to hold it," Marie admitted.

"Well done!" said Callie.

He swung it, and a horizontal curve of black ink shot out in front of him before dissolving.

"You can swing vertically too."

He did so, charging forward and slashing upwards. This time the ink was vertical. He grinned. He was starting to get the hang of this.

He'd been holding it for a few seconds and yet he already loved the Wiper. Perhaps it was the lightweight feel of it, or maybe how it quickly cut through the air. Whatever it was, he was glad this had been his introduction into this kind of warfare.

"You hit someone with a fully charged shot with that and-" Callie flared her hands, mimicking an explosion.

"Where should I start searching?" asked Chosen. "I'm not familiar with these parts. Knowing Victim, he probably set up his operation in an ordinary building, hiding in plain sight. I doubt he's down here."

"Hmm. Maybe try searching the suburbs?" Marie suggested.

"You'll have to put that away, though," added her cousin. "It's illegal to carry a weapon around casually."

"Of course it is," he muttered.

Marie grinned. "Good luck with your search, Agent 5."

Chapter Text

An involuntary groan left Second as he opened his eyes, causing the pounding in his head to intensify. At least there was no bright light his eyes had to adjust to.

Bright light...

He remembered that light. That bright teal light that had formed between him and Victim.

He remembered the fight. Somehow activating his powers after being told that his friends were in danger.

But they hadn't been. They'd broken in to save him, and he remembered losing focus as he'd watched them with gratitude.

And then... there was nothing.

He sat up, eyes adjusting to his dark surroundings. Ahead of him was a line of broken-down ticket barriers, and black wires hung loosely from the ceiling. Around him, Red, Yellow, Green, Blue and Purple were laid on the ground, unconscious.

But... they looked different.

They had black masks connecting their eyes, and their hair looked slick with moisture. It was white on the inside, coloured on the outside, with lighter spots at the bottom.

Second's confusion transitioned into fear. What were they?

There was something about this place that made goosebumps crawl along his arms. Something seemed... off about it.

He got the impression that bad things happened here, and he didn't like it. Where even were they, anyway? Some kind of underground train station?

"Ugh... What happened...?"

He looked back around and noticed that Red was sat up, hand on his head. The others were starting to stir as well, sitting up, looking around in confusion.

Second's shoulders slumped with relief. They weren't dead.

"Hey, guys," he said.

Yellow's eyes narrowed and he adjusted his glasses, as if someone was off. "Sec?!"

"Yes...?"

"Sorry, you just look... um..."

"Different?" Red supplied.

"Definitely," Blue agreed.

He touched a hand to his face.

"No, your hair," Green whispered, touching his own before pulling it away in confusion. "What the hell?!"

Second felt his own. It was wet and... lumpy.

"Guys... Something tells me we're not at home anymore," said Purple.

"Yeah, why is our hair wet?" exclaimed Red.

"What are we?" muttered Yellow, looking down at his hands.

"Don't worry about that. For now I think we should just focus on getting out of here," Second replied. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Agreed," they agreed.

Second approached the line of ticket barriers, pushing on the metal bars. They didn't budge. Then he noticed the one on the far left was open. 

As they passed through it, a large domed ceiling took the place of the low tiled ceiling of the first area. They seemed to have arrived on some sort of huge train platform.

"Woah," Red murmured, seemingly in awe at the sheer size of it.

"Wait, what's that?" Yellow pointed at a tall pile of smashed glass and black plastic ahead of them, at the other end of the platform. It looked like the remnants of some great machine.

They hurried off towards it, their fascination with machinery no doubt overtaking, and the others followed, leaving Second to run after them.

He didn't like the idea of being separated from them down here. 

The wreckage seemed to have four major components: a thick, black disc, a four-pronged blade, a glass container of some sort, and a black base with a dial sticking out from it. Yellow twisted the dial and, when nothing happened, twisted it the other way. Still, nothing happened.

"Looks like some sort of massive blender," Blue commented. 

Yellow tilted their head, studying it curiously. "I think you're right, you know."

Second noticed a smaller, white device beside the pile, with a red control stick and a singular button. "What's this?"

Red knelt beside it, reaching for it.

"Oh no you don't," said Green, grabbing his friend's arm. "Remember what happened last time you touched a strange device?"

"Oh, c'mon Green, that was ages ago!" he whined.

Yellow snatched it up, and almost dropped it in surprise as a huge blue square appeared in front of them, colourful lines marked with different stations curving under and over each other in an intricate pattern that Second couldn't understand. In the top corner, an option said: RESET MAP?

Yellow fumbled with the control stick and selected it. The device reset itself, and by the time it was done, the map only had one line, the yellow one. It told them they were at Central Station.

Second patted Yellow on the back. "Nice job, Yel."

They pushed the stick up again, and it switched from "The promised land awaits!" Central Station" to "Looks like the real thing..." Fake Plastic Station".

"Fake Plastic Station?" asked Green. Yellow shrugged their shoulders and selected the new station.

Nothing happened.

"Um, is a train supposed to appear or something?" Red leaned over the edge of the platform, peering down the dark tunnel to their left.

A train whistle echoed up from those dark depths, and Green barely pulled Red back in time as a train sped towards them before slowing to a stop with an awful sound.

"For God's sake, Red."

"What?! I was just checking!"

"You nearly died!"

Their arguing was interrupted by the loud sound of the trains's doors sliding open."

"Welcome to the Deepsea Metro," a high-pitched voice sounded from inside the train. Second peered in, confused. He saw no one.

A sigh. "Down here."

Second looked down and realized that he was stood on a small, dark blue piece of jelly wearing a conductor's hat. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Clearly. All aboard."

The six of them exchanged cautious glances before boarding the train.

As they all sat down, he asked, "Where are we? And, uh, what - who are you?"

The blue blob looked at up him with what he imagined would be frustration if it had eyes. "My name is CQ-Cumber. And you are in the Deepsea Metro. I take it you don't know how you got here, or what to do next?"

"We just woke up down here." Purple crossed her arms defensively.

"Just like the last one," CQ-Cumber muttered to itself. "It's quite a surprise to see a group of Inklings down here, however."

"Inklings?" asked Yellow, frowning.

"Yes. Usually we just see your kind down here - that is, Octolings." It directed that comment to Second.

"Oh, that's why you look different to us," exclaimed Blue. "You're a different species, by the sound of it. Am I right?"

"Indeed. Well, in that case, you'll be wanting to head to the surface, correct?"

The surface! They'd probably reunite with Chosen if they made it up there.

"Yes," Second replied, his voice firm.

"Then your mission will be to complete the tests at the different stations, as they will lead you to the elevator that shall take you there. I believe our destination now is-"

The train began to slow down with an ear-splitting screech, until it stopped completely. The doors slid open.

"- Station A05, Fake Plastic Station," Cumber finished. "After you."

The group hopped off the train.

"What now?" asked Red.

"Now you must select one of you to do the test, as only one is allowed in, and receive a weapon from the equipper in front of you."

"What kind of weapon?" asked Blue excitedly. "I hope it's a bow!"

"What's a bow?"

Her jaw dropped.

"No, the only available weapon for this test is the Splattershot, a rapid-fire shot-class gun, paired with the Splat Bomb subweapon."

"I'm sorry," began Red, "but what the actual hell are those?"

CQ-Cumber was definitely getting pissed now. "Just use the damn equipper."

"Right, who wants to do the test?" asked Green. Everyone shook their heads.

"I think Blue should do it because she has the most experience out of all of us at shooting things," said Red.

"What - no! Red should do it! He's the bravest out of all of us!"

"I'm not, Green should do it!"

The sound of them arguing made Second want to bang his head as hard as he could against the metal side of the train. "Oh my God - I'll do it, since you lot won't decide." As he stepped onto the raised circle in front of him, a tube shot up from the ground, enclosing him.

An image of the Splattershot appeared on the screen, and he selected it. It dispensed the weapon into his hands and disappeared, leaving him stood there, confused.

He held up the weapon -

"You're holding it backwards," said Cumber. "Have you even held a Splattershot before?"

He adjusted his grip. "No...?"

"Then I'm assuming you don't know that you can transform into a mini octopus to refill your ink?"

Second's jaw dropped this time. "No! How do I do that, then?!"

"I don't know! I don't have that ability."

Second tested the weapon. It shot out a glob of orange ink. It had decent range, too.

And as he was wondering how to 'transform', his body suddenly collapsed and he found himself surrounded by a world of orange.

"I guess that's how," quipped Purple.

Second was terrified. How had he done that? And how did he go back?

He stood up, his human form returned.

Huh.

"Just step through the gate to begin the test." Cumber sounded like it couldn't wait to be rid of Second.

"Good luck, Sec," called Green as he approached the gate in question.

He took a deep breath and stepped through.

Chapter Text

The gate launched Second forward, the momentum forcing him into a roll.

The station seemed to be set in a foggy forest, but the trees looked too shiny, too bouncy to be real.

"That explains the name," he muttered to himself.

He moved forward cautiously, Splattershot raised, finger on the trigger. The atmosphere out here was even more wrong than that of the platform.

He wondered if he'd encounter any more 'Inklings' or 'Octolings'.

The brick walls, coated in a thick layer of glass, were mossy and covered in stickers, crumbling in places. This place was losing its shine, no doubt about that.

An eerie laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up, seeing a tall pillar built out of the same bricks. And atop that pillar was a figure.

They had pale, mint-green skin, dark blue tentacles highlighted with bright turquoise, and black sunglasses that had a red glow about them.

"Target sighted."

As he watched, they leapt from the top of the pillar, performed a series of front flips and landed in front of him.

He stumbled backwards in shock, pointing his weapon at them, but something stopped him from pulling the trigger. 

Perhaps it was the fact that they were another living being. He'd watched the Dark Lord murder his friends right in front of him, and he couldn't put someone else through the terror he'd felt.

His older siblings might be able to kill without guilt, but Second wasn't like them. That had become clear long ago.

They used the curved end of their own weapon to knock his out of his hands, and he backed away, his hands raised.

His back met the smooth trunk of a tree.

They pulled the trigger, their ink stinging his face, and suddenly Second was back at the start, Splattershot back in his hands.

"What... What just happened?"

"You respawned," called out Cumber. "Don't let your enemy corner you this time."

"So what, you want me to just shoot them?!" he retorted angrily.

"Yes." It sounded exasperated. "You won't be able to pass the test unless you defeat them."

"Try and find another way around!" suggested Yellow.

Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.

He moved forward, this time sprinting around the brick pillar. As he passed it, a huge pair of metal double doors came into view, adorned with bars and the heads of bolts.

He threw his full weight against them, but they wouldn't budge. He turned around and saw his enemy inking a turquoise path towards him.

He frantically grabbed one of the bars, pulling himself up off the ground, and began climbing. Shots of ink bounced off the metal around him, and a few hit his legs, but he didn't stop until he reached the top.

A triangular bomb landed beside him.

Nope!

He tried to scurry away, and ended up slipping over the edge of the doors.

He landed on his back on the other side. Hard.

But at least he hadn't had to take their life.

Second sighed with relief, then noticed two figures identical to the one he'd just escaped, carrying weapons he didn't recognize.

They both aimed at him, and he quickly got to his feet. He barely got out of the way in time.

Through the fog, he could make out an identical pair of doors, and a pile of crates to their left.

Ducking and dodging as he went, he pushed the crates in front of the doors and began to stack them in a straight, vertical line.

His foes began shooting the crates.

"No! Don't!" he shouted foolishly, waving his arms. His stack of crates wobbled precariously.

Shit, shit, SHIT!

He didn't want to have to fight them.

He bent down and, with as much power as he could manage, jumped upwards. 

His fingers barely reached the top, but they did, and he pulled himself up, chest heaving.

Too close.

He hopped down, expecting more enemies, but instead, all he saw was a strange, floating, metal rod that glowed light blue. "Umm... what now?"

"Shoot it," replied Cumber.

He did so, and as he touched it, he found himself suddenly back on the train. His weapon was gone, too.

"You did it!" Blue smothered him in a hug.

"Well done," said Cumber, "but you can't avoid your enemies. In some of these tests, it is impossible to move forward without splatting them. Some are timed, and you fail without shooting them."

"Well then we'll just have to get someone else to do those ones," Green replied angrily. "We're just kids - of course we're not gonna want to kill people!"

Cumber sighed. "Very well."

Yellow pulled out the device that had the map. The line has extended, to include a new station on either side of the one Second had just cleared.

"Hey, talking sea slug, what's a Baller?" they asked. The objective of station A04 was to "get to the goal in the Baller before time runs out".

"A Baller is an example of a special weapon. It is an inflatable ball that you run around in, with the option to explode in a huge blast of ink."

"Sounds cool!" said Red, rubbing his hands together.

"Guess we're going there then," replied Yellow, selecting the Roll Out Station.

The train started moving again.

Chapter Text

Victim didn't have his powers in this strange new city. That had soon become apparent after he had woken up.

Dark has also been stripped of her powers, much to her own wrath. At least she has those Burst Bomb things to fuck around with to keep her distracted.

Victim had, too, been angry at the instant removal of his newfound power, and if he had kept it, stealing the Great Zapfish would have been much, much easier.

Now, he watched as the Octoling soldiers secured the Zapfish into a machine that he'd ordered them to build in a pit in the ground, resting against the metal railing.

It had been quite easy to hack into the mind-controlling shades they wore, and change their orders so that they served him instead of whoever they had previously.

Strangely, the Great Zapfish offered no resistance. In fact, the only signs of life it showed were to breathe and to blink. He found this slightly perplexing - after all, it had been kidnapped by a strange person and was being forced into a strange contraption.

Not that he was complaining. If, at any point during its retrieval, it had chosen to weaponize the vast amount of electricity that pumped through its body, his mission would have been much more difficult.

Soon after he'd woken up, he had noticed that he was also an Octoling - not that he had known what they were called at the time - and was mostly just confused.

Where was he, why did he look different, and where were his captives?

But after Dark had woken up, they'd... asked for more information from a random person in the street.

Dark hadn't taken the news of their evident world-hopping very well.

He felt a slight smile creep along his face at the memory of that green splat mark on the ground.

Three knocks echoed around the vast chamber, and Victim stood up straight, turning. "Enter."

Agent Smith strode through the door. Being an Inkling suited him. His usual full head of brown hair was now a half-shaved head of grey tentacles, tipped with a blue-grey, that were barely chin-length.

The others, who were also Inklings, followed, but it was Smith who spoke.

"I have news for you, sir."

Victim nodded and motioned for him to come closer. He did so, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few pieces of paper. "What is it, Agent?"

"We received this proof today from the Octoling troops that The Chosen One, the orange kid and his friends are all here as well." He held out the pieces of paper, and Victim took them. Two were of The Chosen One, running down a street, and three were of the others on a train, a strange device in the orange one's hand.

Shit.

This was bad.

If they were running free, then there was an almost certain possibility that they would be searching for him. They'd probably want to return the Great Zapfish too, after the broadcast that stated that they needed it back.

And he had not been strong enough to survive the ordeal his Creator had put him through, suffer the loss of Mitsi, and now been forced to adapt to this strange new world and climbed that tall tower to take their power source just to fail.

Life had been cruel to him, and he had come out on the other side. He would not let that go to waste.

Then again... Maybe it was a good thing. Now that he thought about it, he needed his brothers for the execution of his plan...

"Thank you for letting me know. Now, I have another task for you."

"Sir?"

"I want you to bring them all to me. I don't care in what condition, as long as they're alive."

Agent saluted. "Yes, sir."

Then they departed, leaving Victim alone with his thoughts.

He was surprised that he had agreed. After all, they no longer had access to their toolbars, nor their individual abilities. It must be at least a little unsettling, despite how skilled they were.

But he wasn't one to question their loyalty.