"Ehhh, I don't know what'cer talkin about." The old man chuckled lightly.

Marina buried her head deeper into her hands as a soldier beat his fist against the blast cage.

"We're going to find that little slug sooner than you think you old bastard! Your people are getting sloppy, two different signals led us right to him!"

"People? Kid, I dunno what to keep tellin' ya but we were a solo act. I told my boy to stay outta the domes, but I ain't really there to reign him in anymore, am I?"

She could practically hear the rage seeping out of the soldier, like the shriek of an over-pressurized kettle. "You shut your rusted mouth, inkling." He spat the last word out of his mouth like it was poisonous. "You have no RIGHT to talk--"

"Hey, That's a good idea! I ain't gonna talk to ya till ya clean up yer language. No chance Octavio'd approve it and I don't either."

There was an exhaustingly tense pause, before the soldier slammed his fist into the blast shield so hard it left a dent. One of many just like it. "DAMN IT YOU OLD BASTARD!" He stormed out of the room, leaving nothing behind but a string of curses.

The other soldier sighed deeply. "Same protocol, Head Engineer. If he says anything important, report it to us immediately," He followed the first soldier out of the room, closing the door behind him.

She kept her head down to try and stop the world from spinning. The soldier's slam against the shield still echoed in her brain, making her head hurt worse than what had become usual. Again and again the soldiers would arrive at her door unannounced, barge their way inside, and get absolutely nowhere trying to get information out of the Squidbeak Splatoon's captain. After a month of unrelenting attempts, they had gained virtually no information from him. The soldiers were run in circles by the senile old bastard every single time without fail. Does no one else see the pattern? Am I really the only one who's noticed?

The Head Engineer must be diligent in directing her focus to her work, as it is crucial for the betterment of life within the domes.

DJ Octavio himself had given her a task to work on, even after her catastrophic failure a over month ago. She had been given a chance to redeem herself, and she could barely make herself grasp it. If her head didn't hurt so much it blocked out her vision; If she could keep herself together long enough to finish it, their glorious leader himself would solve their inkling infestation for good.

"Phew! Those fellas sure are relentless, ain't they Miss Ida?"

There was just one problem. Even without the soldiers invading her lab, the prisoner was plenty talkative.

Marina raised her head. The movement alone was enough to send stars flying around the edges of her vision, but she didn't let it show. "I mean no disrespect, Captain, but if you would just tell them what they want to know, they'd back off."

Cuttlefish tisked and shook his head. "You kids and yer formalities, I swear... I got a name you know!" He turned away and muttered, "Get promoted ta captain one time and suddenly no one knows yer name. How many times do I haveta say it?" He shook his head again before looking back to Marina. "No disrespect of course, Ms. Ida. I know my opinions ain't exactly common. Like I've been sayin, if ya would, please just call me Craig, or Mr. Cuttlefish if ya absolutely have ta be formal about it. It's not exactly like I got anyone ta order around down here anyway. Bein the captain ain't gonna do me any good, ya know what I mean? It's nothin but trouble, Ms. Ida! Nothin but trouble! All kinda problems ya never knew existed suddenly jump ya the moment..."

Marina just watched him as he ranted. Captain Cuttlefish was truly a bizarre man. Putting aside the fact that he was an inkling, he was spirited about everything. There was no topic he couldn't talk to himself about for an hour, and mixing that with his accent made for an experience like no other. He spoke octarian completely fluently, complete with the slow draw of formal octarian she'd expect from someone of his age. But there was something strange about it. He spoke the language with the confidence of someone who'd mastered it, yet despite that, the way he slung his words together wasn't normal. There was an... unknown aspect to it. A foreign-ness to it that she'd never heard before.

A sudden throbbing in her head pulled her unwillingly back to the real world. She needed him to be quiet. With grit teeth, she put on the best smile she could. "No disrespect, Mr. Cuttlefish, but if you could just tell them what they want to know, then they'd stop bothering both of us."

Cuttlefish stopped his train of thought mid sentence. "Like I said on day one Miss Ida, I don't know nothin' about what's goin on up there on the surface."

The Head Engineer's behavior should model that of the ideal soldier. Her presence should encourage others to live up to that standard.

And just like that, Marina's patience reached its limit. "Then just tell them something! ANYTHING!"

He gave her a side glance which lasted a few moments before sighing. "Can't do that. Not fer moral lesson reasons, yer a smart girl I think ya know lyin' is wrong. I gotta watch my own backside, see? I can't be sure what yer companions'll do when they find out I was tellin' lies."

"Tell them the truth then!"

"I told ya already, I don't know anythin--"

The Head Engineer has an image she must maintain, as she is a role model for all others to look towards.

Marina felt her claws digging into the side of her head as her hands pushed inwards. She didn't care. "TELL THEM WHY YOU SMASHED THE EQUIPMENT IN THE CAVE! HOW IN RUSTED HELL YOU MANAGE TO KEEP SNEAKING INSIDE!! ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR AGENT!! JUST TELL THEM SOMETHING THAT'LL GET THEM TO LEAVE ME ALONE!!"

He regarded her with a blank face. With a grunt of effort, he picked himself up and hobbled over to the small window that had been cut out of the blast shield to pass him food. When he next spoke, his words were a lit more deliberate, like he was trying to bury his strange accent. "Now, Ms. Ida, I can't go betrayin' my Agent like that. I'm sorry 'bout the situation, I truly am. I truly do wish I could be somewhere else."

The old bastard being stuck in her lab was the worst twist of irony. As a prisoner, Cuttlefish needed someone to keep a constant eye on him, but the generals didn't want to spare a single soldier for an old man who couldn't snap a slate-pen. He needed to be close to the heart of the military for questioning. Then Octavio explicitly ordered he be kept within High Command, which sealed her fate. Her lab was one of the handful of places within the building that even had a space closed in enough to act as a cell at all. With the locations narrowed down, it only made sense in the end to put him in with the diligent and loyal Head Engineer. She could watch over him and continue her work, like the perfect soldier she was.

The Head Engineer is not above the laws of the domes. She is beholden to the same rules as every other soldier.

It has to be a test of some kind. There's no other reason Octavio would insist he be kept here. He's trying to make me prove my loyalty and capability.

Jerk.

"I do mean that apology ya know." Cuttlefish eyed her from within his cell. "Ms. Ida, I'll leave ya alone if ya'd answer one last question for me. Promise."

"Sure," Marina answered without hesitation. Anything to get some quiet. Marina rubbed her temples, trying her hardest to keep the world still. I would like that more than anything. Please, just shut the hell up so I can--

"Why're ya doin this to yerself?"

She froze. "What?"

"All this—" The Captain vaguely gestured towards her— "Why're ya pushing yerself so far?"

"I h--" Marina stuttered. Ice cold shot down her back as her world unbalanced.

The Head Engineer should speak with confidence about the good her work has and will bring to the people of the domes.

"It's-it's my duty. It's my role, it's what I have to do."

"Why'da have to do it?"

"Improving the lives of the soldiers is a truly noble cause that pushes the domes towards a brighter future." The automatic answer slid out of her mouth without a thought. Marina physically stumbled. She hadn't realized she was moving. Desperately, she flailed her arms for a workbench to brace herself on, which she thankfully found.

"But why you? Why not someone else, or a team of other engineers? Why you, Marina?"

The Head Engineer should take pride in her work, as it has revolutionized life in the domes.

Marina blanched at the question. Stars swam at the edges of her vision. Her stomach screamed at her, threatening to expel its contents at a moment's notice. "I-- It-- Engineering is a difficult field. It takes time and effort to develop solutions--"

"Bah!" From his cell, the Captain waved his hands, dismissing her words. "Fishpaste. Any old engineer could do that. Why is it you, Marina? Why is it just you?"

"I'm the only one!" Her hands hurt from how tightly she was gripping the countertop. Her legs shook, aching so bad they threatened to fall out from below her if she let go. "It has to be me because no one else can do it!"

"But why are ya doin this?"

"No one else can!!" She desperately gasped out. Her chest hurt. Her chest hurt so bad.

"That's why they want ya to do it. Why are you doin it?"

The Head Engineer has an image she must maintain, as she is a role model for all others to look towards.

"It won't get done if I'm not doing it!" She couldn't think her head hurt so bad. Forcing even a single thought forward made her brain feel like it was splitting in half.

Cuttlefish went silent for a moment. "Maybe it shouldn't get done then."

Marina didn't realize she was moving until she was pressing her side against the blast shield. "IT HAS TO!"

"Bullsquid! People lived a hundred years down here before you stepped in. Why are ya alright with hurtin' yerself like this Marina? Why did you stop fighting?"

The Head Engineer should be capable of doing what must be done for the domes.

Pain flared across her entire body as her muscles tensed. She saw red. "You can't say that," She pleaded. "You don't know a thing about me!"

"Ya've given up Marina! Yer gonna lose yerself to this abuse if ya don't do something about it!" The Captain reached through the hole and grabbed her arm.

She thrashed weakly. Everything hurt. "No!! You don't know anything!! I'm not— I have to—"

He pulled on her arm, forcing her attention towards him until their eyes met. His words came slowly, like he was deliberately sounding each syllable out for her explicitly. "Marina, this life is going to kill you if you don't change something."

The Head Engineer must be willing to sacrifice everything she has for the domes. The position is, after all, a blessing.

She took desperate gulps of air. The world spun and everything hurt. "That's not true! I— I—"

Her knees suddenly buckled, sending her crashing into the blast shield as she fell down. The fall hurt. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. Everything hurt so much. She was dying as she laid on the ground. Desperately, she gasped for breath, entire body shaking as she tried to understand what was happening. No tears fell from her eyes as she cried.

And then there was a touch on her side. A bony hand grasped her arm, the grip gentle, but firm. "Marina, ya can't keep doin this to yerself. It ain't right."

She could barely see. Colors spiraled across her vision. Everything hurt so badly.

There was shifting, and suddenly Marina found herself held in a tight hug. "Ya have to stop."

The Head Engineer must be willing to sacrifice everything she has for the domes. The position is, after all, a blessing.

Her chest heaved with dry sobs. But that's why I'm here... No sound came out when she tried to speak.

Cuttlefish sighed melancholically, rubbing slow circles into her back, quieting her screaming muscles there. Marina melted into the touch, relishing in the first lasting contact she had made with someone since Ahato saved her life. Darkness slowly crept across her vision as her eyes closed.

Marina wasn't afraid of losing consciousness. Cuttlefish's presence was comforting in a way she only had vague, distant memories of. She felt safe, she felt like things might be alright.

With a voice tender, and quiet he whispered one final message, before she fell asleep. "Maybe ya shouldn't be here, Marina."

What a nice thought.

Craig sighed as he looked down at the octoling sleeping in his lap. It twisted his hearts in ways he didn't know was possible, looking down at her. Over the last five weeks and two days exactly, they had become some form of accustomed to one another. He got to watch as she worked, and worked, and worked on something, refusing to stop until sleep literally forced her head down.

He was still rubbing the small circles into her back. He could tell based on that alone how close to the edge she was. Hard points of cartilage were plainly outlined in her dark skin. Skin that was so dry his hands were catching on it in places. She needed food and water. She needed sleep, and exercise, and socialization; she needed to leave. No matter what he wanted or wished, the only thing he could do for now was stare down at her gaunt face.

Soldiers routinely brought food twice a day. Marina's meals were larger than his, which wasn't surprising. That was either an attempt at breaking his spirit, or a power play from one of those hot headed soldiers trying to get back at him despite Octavio's orders. Regardless of the connotations, food was food, and survival was the goal.

He counted every single meal Marina skipped. Forty-three. Out of the seventy-four meals that had been brought to them, she'd skipped well over half. He watched her go entire days without eating— not doing anything but working on those blueprints on the desk in front of her.

And now she had to face the consequences of that.

Her life was not a sustainable one. The obvious misery of it alone was enough to make it unbearable, to say nothing of her passive suicide attempts. Truly, Craig wanted what was best for her. She didn't deserve this. No one deserved to live like this.

Logistically, he knew that Marina was his enemy, and a monumental one at that. Based on the stuff he'd been able to see, there was no doubt in his mind she was the one who created that infernal stomper machine that nearly squished Agent Three for good. The pragmatic part of his mind, the one that would never let him forget that night in the Assembly Hall, told him that their chances would be better with her out of the picture. It would stem the flow of weaponry that she seemed capable of making, and deal a monumental blow to the morale of the populace, which already seemed low if the soldiers were any indication.

But Craig was not that person, if you could even call them that, for what person could hold a starving child in their arms and kill them? The situation may place them on opposing ends, but Craig would never do something so horrific, no matter what the circumstances may be. This war needed to end to put a stop to situations like this, and he had but this one chance to make a move.

Slowly, he worked his way out from below Marina, propping her up against the side of the nearest counter. The immediate frown and distressed fidgeting were extra knives in his hearts, but he couldn't stay here and comfort the poor girl. He could only hope she heard his message.

He gingerly worked his way up to his full height, using the nearest countertop as a brace to help keep his balance. Now properly out of his cage for the first time, Craig scoured the room for anything that stuck out.

The entire room was filled with clutter. Disassembled weapons, bombs, tanks, and armor covered one set of countertops. That was the kinda thing he expected from a weapons gallary, but it was the other stuff that had him raising his eyebrows. Some kinda strange propeller device, several jars of dirt, a couple dozen pages of numbers— most likely computer machine code if his memory served— several electrical components around a zapfish battery, more blueprints than he could count, and many other things he couldn't identify.

Strangely, a small pile of medical equipment was shoved against one of the counters. Several braces, gauze, and— well look at that, a cane! Craig used the countertop to help him get over to it. It sat a bit taller than he was used to, but it'd save him a load of effort with what was to come.

As much as there was to look at on these counters, that's not where his attention was needed. He worked his way to the front of the room, where Marina's desk was. He'd seen Marina scrambling over the blueprints for over a month, stopping for nothing but bathroom breaks and sleep. Exactly two things ever broke her routine, both of which rested on the desk in front of him, sitting amongst the blueprints.

The first was a pair of sunglasses not unlike the experimental pairs he'd been watching for, though these were a lot more... mechanical in design. Incredibly intricate wiring wrapped around computer chips and into screens on either side of the lenses. At least once a day, Marina would hold them in her hands like she was about to put them on, and just sit for an unsure amount of time, before silently shaking her head, and turning back to the blueprints she was hellbent on finishing.

The second thing was a pair of sleek, silver headphones with a large antenna on the side. It had taken him longer to realize that Marina was staring at them, because they didn't seem to be something she focused on deliberately. Her gaze would shift up from the blueprints in front of her, and through her slowing pencil movements Craig could literally watch as her thoughts trailed off. She did that far more often, compared to the glasses, though never for as long. He regarded the two items for a few moments, trying to figure out why exactly they mattered. Not for long, though, he only had so much freedom to play with, and he needed to get information.

He quickly set about sorting through the stack of blueprints Marina had been working on. Each one he looked at focused on a specific system within some kind of larger mechanism, and each one made his stomach drop a little more. Missiles? Sonic lasers? Ink propelled FISTS?? As he looked through the blueprints, a complete picture of the machine formed in his mind. All of these weapons were built into a chassis fitted with a whole slew of antigravity technology, enough to make its maneuverability entirely unmatched. The entire underside of the machine acted as a housing space for a great zapfish, with enough capacitors to harness almost all the power one could give off. Built on top of all that was a stage. Lighting, speakers, and most notably, a turntable sat under a large spherical dome. If this thing was loosed on the surface...

Oh, Tavi, what are you trying to do?

The capabilities of such a machine were obvious, but why the stage? It was clearly meant to be a successor to that stomper machine. Was Octavio going to pilot it himself? He is a showman, through and through...

Oh no.

Craig cast another quick glance around the room, scanning for anything else that he'd need to know. When he saw nothing, he drew in a deep breath, and made his way towards the door to the lab. He'd only seen the hallways outside briefly, while he was being carried into the cell, but it was enough to give him an idea of where to go.

As he rested his hand on the door handle, he looked back towards Marina one final time. It wouldn't be the last he saw her, but after he left this room, there'd be no going back to how things were. I hope you heard my message, because I know you're not going to listen to me again.

With a silent nod, he turned towards the door, and slipped out of the lab.