Ahato grit her teeth as she waded through the small crowd of people. Every time one of them bumped her shoulder, it sent a flare of pain rocketing down her entire arm, but she didn't let herself reach up to massage it here. There wasn't enough space for her to do that without elbowing somebody in the head, and that would cause more problems than simply dealing with the pain. Would it kill these rusted morons to stand still?

She was trying to get her name on the day's performance listing. The shows in the Hollows weren't... disallowed by the military, but the dubious nature of the ring meant that planning anything long term was generally not a feasible option. With that in mind, every morning a large slate was set up with common time slots for each of the four 'stages' one could perform at. Maybe one day I'll hit the big stage.

The Hollows were nestled into the edge of an abandoned dome, right along a slot that had four dead end caves incredibly close to a crack in the side. Each cave was progressively larger than the last, with the biggest, the A stage, able to hold four entire splatoons of people. The most popular performers basically owned that stage, with the B-grade performers on the B stage, and so on. And that leaves the rest of us in the dirt.

Ahato herself was part of the vast rotating cast at the bottom. Any artist who broke away from the military's bureaucratic shrimpshit, or who didn't fit into their 'promoted' styles of music wound up on the D stage. It made for a very diverse scene with a good mix of artists and styled, but it also made a very competitive scene. Most of them will wash out in a week though.

The signups were based on the stages, with the A stage leading everything. That's how she found herself smashed into a crowd with the rest of the people on her stage. The schedule was strict, 24 slots at 45 minutes each, though it was incredibly common for artists to 'duo' and split the time slot between them. Ahato herself had two slots she had her eyes on: the prime slot was, obviously, the best time she could get. Biggest crowd, most eyes, best chance for word of her shows to spread. She had a full 45 minute set entirely of more popular, generic music that'd hopefully help her stay relevant in their minds. The other slot was one of the two twilight slots. Late in the night when the crowd had thinned but was by no means gone, that was when she performed her music. The songs she had made after the night where something new managed its way underground for her to hear. The only good thing to come out of the recent months.

Everything was based around reputation and respect in the Hollows. Upward movement was only possible after making a name for yourself, but it was never as simple as just 'being promoted' to the next stage. Occasionally, the upper stages would have an unclaimed slot, intended to let an artist from a lower stage 'test the waters' so to say. Technically, anyone could put their name into these slots. It'd be career suicide to just slot your name into the top though, that's not how things worked here. Best case scenario there is just getting kicked out.

She'd been down there over a month at this point, which was more than enough time to establish her name as a performer among the lower stage. There was enough clout to her name that she could sparingly perform at the C stage in its off hours and get a good reception. Otherwise, she just had her typical two sets in a day to keep up with. Honestly? Not that bad of a life. Performing is fun.

When the upper stage crowds finally cleared, Ahato was surged towards the signup boards by the crowd behind her. Before she got close, she pulled a slatepen off her ear so she didn't have to fight to use one of the few provided. She charged it with her ink, which was blue because she didn't have to shift it down here, and handily secured her two preferred slots. She was about to escape the crowd when she stopped, noticing something. There was a twilight slot on the C stage marked deliberately open. This could be my chance!

Pen at the ready, she lurched forward to write her name before anyone else could take the spot. This was her chance to field her twilight set before a bigger crowd. Her popular set wasn't ever supposed to be what she rode to the top; it was a purely functional thing to establish herself as competent and able to hold her own, and nothing else. The schedule works perfectly too. I have a prime set to warm up with, and then I just run the twilight set twice, once on each stage.

With her spot now secured, Ahato broke from the crowd. She wasn't afraid of anyone erasing her name, being caught doing that, even to a D stage performer, would get someone kicked out within the hour. With a newfound goal in her near future, she steadied herself to go back and prepare for the day. I haven't done an equipment check in a few weeks, can't have my instruments dying on me mid performance.

Only, as she escaped the noise of the crowd, into the dim, isolated caves and dome corridors of the early morning Hollows, doubt returned to plague her mind as it always seemed to. She reached over and massaged her aching shoulder in an attempt to drive the pain, and the thoughts, away. It hadn't stopped hurting since that day. She pushed it too far trying to save... her... life. Even the medics had basically shrugged and apologized. Stupid.

Her pager felt like a brick in her pocket. Ahato had seen the messages. She'd stared at them for hours, fighting with herself and the emotions she felt, before ultimately deciding it wasn't worth it. The only thing the little machine did now was tell her when she had another system to install. Honestly, I don't know if the silence that followed her messages is better or worse.

At least she's alive.

No more of that. Suffering the memories of the past didn't help her any now. What had happened finally gave her the resolve to give up on the "proper" way of doing things. The military wanted nothing to do with her if it didn't involve plugging in a computer, so she elected not to give them anything. Down here people actually respected her and the songs she crafted. There wasn't anything for her outside of the hollows anymore. Except for the meal halls, I guess, but that's just being pedantic.

As she stepped into the shadowy dome, she couldn't help but look up at the sky. Half of it was pitch black, all of the screens rendered dead. There was practically a line drawn straight down the middle of the dome, blotting out the sky and suffocating the clouds that passed over it. The dead screens cast the entirety of the Hollows into nearly pitch darkness. There was only because the crazy bastards who broke from the military to make the place tapped directly into the dome's powerline. Normally, any extra draw could cause problems with the basic functions of the dome, but with half the screens dead there was enough power for them to set up operations within the caves. I like the darkness, it's grown on me this last month.

Despite the dubious nature of the operation, the Hollows were a popular place with many octolings, both soldiers and not. They'd come down in their off hours to listen to the music, but they always left when the big shows were over. That was a good thing, overall, as there wasn't enough infrastructure down here to support a massive band of people. However, there was enough to sustain a modest size collection of performers, provided they all did their part to help with the upkeep. When it came to the maintenance, neither popularity or stage mattered; you did what you could to keep things working. That was where the respect came from. Good music could take you a fair ways, but without the community's backing your progress in the hollows would always be limited. I'm just glad they understand that I can't do things with my right arm. Unlike some people.

Small lights along the ground dimly illuminated the path to the small communal section of the Hollows, guiding her way to a cluster of buildings. They were all short, only a single story tall and almost exclusively residential rooms Unfortunately, most of the contents had been stripped from them by the military's salvage operations, so the only things inside were what the other performers had managed to find over the years. It was nearly identical to her apartment; very similar bed, wardrobe, and desk, with the only real difference being a second desk she used for equipment repairs. There's probably a metaphor there or something, I don't really care. I'm just glad Imari won't look for me down here.

As she finally walked inside, she pushed the door to as she trudged inside and sat on her bed. She had a long day coming up, but the actually busy part didn't start for a few hours still. Plenty of time to slouch.

She looked towards her desk, piled high with music equipment, some new, some old. A surprising number of people down here didn't know how to keep up with their equipment. That's how she pitched into the community. In just her first week, she had already become the de facto repairwoman. She wasn't able to fix everything, of course, some things were too broken, others were beyond her capabilities, but in general, everyone's equipment saw new life since she took up residence. Thank the stars a bunch of people had old junk equipment they could give me to scrap for parts. Made a lot more repairs possible.

With a sigh, she turned away and laid down on her bed. An involuntary grunt of relief escaped as her shoulder nestled into the cold of her pillow. Maybe she'd take it easy for a while after today. Her shoulder was getting worse, like it was remembering every individual pull and twitch of the muscle and forcing her to pay for each one ten times over. She thoughtlessly brought her other hand over and massaged the knot, prodding at the angry muscle with far more delicacy that she should need too. Stars, this hurts, but... ohhh... there, now that feels better.

With that, the world faded away. She relished in the rare occasion where she managed to pinch the nerves just right, and make most of the pain fade away. Her lips curled into a small smile as she almost immediately fell into a light sleep. Just gonna... charge my batteries.

After some time, she was awoken by a voice. "Miss Ahato!?" someone shouted from her doorway.

The sound washed over her, spilling consciousness back into her mind. "I told you not to call me that!" She shouted towards the door before even opening her eyes. "Makes me feel old." She admitted with a huff as she worked her way into a sitting position. The pain in her shoulder was back, most likely from flexing the muscle in her sleep. It was nice while it lasted, at least.

The voice at the door was Paul, one of her neighbors and a fellow performer. He was also the second once-in-a-generation prodigy she'd somehow managed to meet. More than that, though, he was young, a trait which was only further emphasized as he rounded the corner to greet her. He's a cute little thing, for sure.

He bounded into the room with more energy than she felt in a week, all wrapped up in one adorable little package. Paul didn't even have his adult form yet he was so young. His little magenta blobby body barely came up to her hips, and he didn't even have fingers yet. Despite this, he hadn't ever let that stop him. The kid was already moonlighting on the A stage for clam's sake. No one else in the Domes could mix things like he could. The way he took samples and twisted and changed them into something unrecognizably new gave his every song a distinct, unmatched flavor. And despite that, he still wants to see me for some reason.

Ahato didn't hide the smile pulling at her lips. "Hey kid, what'dya want?"

"I just wanted to see you!" Paul clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward slightly, before unclasping them and putting his hands by his side. They didn't stay there for long, as they soon came back out, held in front of him again but not in the same way. He tended to fidget very aggressively when he wasn't working on something, not that Ahato minded any. It kind of reminds me of how... she... used to be. Anyway.

"You just wanted to say hi?" She gave him a playful look and tilted her head.

"Yeah!"

She stared at him for a handful of seconds. "Hi."

That got a giggle. "Hi!"

"Well, ok then!" Ahato smirked and started to lay back down.

"Wait! Wait wait wait!" Paul threw his arms up to catch her attention. "Maybe... there is something else... but you have to come see it!"

"I knew it!" She made a show of pointing at him. "I can't believe you'd lie to me like that."

"Ah, no! I wasn't lying I promise!! It's a surprise!"

She paused, tapping a claw to her chin before nodding. "I suppose that's acceptable. Now, you said a surprise?

He laughed again, before suddenly running out of the door. Ahato scoffed as she stood to follow him. She wouldn't lie, she did enjoy interactions like this. Not just with Paul, but with everybody, really. It was so nice to actually have a community again, after years of being forced to fly nearly solo. But it was also weird. Doubts plagued her constantly about if she was doing the right thing. Was it really alright that she just waltzed in and took a room? Were there really no problems with her muscling her way onto the stages? Should she be something like Paul's older sister, or was that pushing her own wants back onto him? I guess I'll go until someone stops me.

Really, Ahato wasn't sure she was used to being around people, yet. She didn't really talk to anyone but... her... and the coordinators she'd meet on the job sites, and they didn't count because they had to talk to her. Loneliness was a feeling she had gotten quite comfortable with over time, and to have it suddenly not the most prevalent thing on her mind was really tripping her up. In a good way though. It's kind of... freeing?

Paul led her away from her building to the one right next to it. It was essentially identical, with the only difference being subtle blue highlights in the decor compared to the green of her own building. He was practically hopping in place while she approached.

"Alright you little inkstain, what exactly do you have planned?" She gave him a shifty look as he laughed again and pulled the door to his room open.

The inside was about as barren as her room, though there were step stools near the utilities here. There was also another musician inside. Oh, I didn't expect to see him here.

"Warabi, what's got him so excited?" She asked, nodding towards Paul.

"Nono, I wanna show her!" Paul shouted.

He put up his hands and offered her a smile. "Sorry, you heard the man." Even sitting down, he was a tall and spindly octoling like her, though his tentacles didn't cover his eye, or go nearly as far down his neck. His songs were a lot more punchy and aggressive than her own, and he had probably the lamest stage name she knew of: Mashup. I really hope Paul doesn't take after him when he finally rebrands.

Ahato rolled her eyes again, but turned her attention to Paul, who was holding something behind his back. Without any warning, he shoved something onto his head, before turning to her with a smile.

"A beanie? How did you even get that, I thought they were ruled material inefficient."

"We made it!"

"I made it." Warabi corrected, wiggling his fingers. "But he found the yarn."

"Look, looklooklook!" Paul grabbed a corner of the beanie and pulled it forward to show her. It was a small patch attached to the front, with a replica of the logo on her own cap. Oh...

Warmth flooded her hearts. "Hey, I recognize that!"

"Yeah!!" He let the fabric snap back to his head. "I know we've only been hanging out for a little bit, but you've been really cool... and I think the face is funny."

It took everything she had not to 'awww!!' all her feelings out. She had an image to maintain after all. "Is that where my hat disappeared to the other day?" She gave him a playful glare.

"Maybe!" Paul gave her a smirk brimming with the confidence of being eight years old. Before she could follow up, he gasped, and ran for the door without a word.

"Who knows?" Warabi over-exaggeratedly shrugged. "Anyway, how you been, A?"

"Not bad, not bad." Ahato looked around for a chair, but settled for sitting on the bed when she didn't find one. "There's a twilight opening on the C stage that I managed to nab, so I got a big night tonight!"

"Ohh, really?" Warabi smirked and leaned forward. "Nice catch. You deserve to be at least on the B stage girl, you've got some killer stuff."

"Not the A stage?"

"Nah, you've still got some room to improve." His words had a bit of an edge, but the easy smile on his face betrayed his true intentions. "Hope everything goes well for ya, then you can join me on the C stage properly!"

"Stars, yeah. I'm ready to be past the fist fights to get a decent time slot. I know the C stage isn't much better, but at least it's not full of wash outs."

"True, true. I think you'll hit it no problem. Then maybe we can duo, make somethin new, right?"

"If we do things right we can Trio with the kid."

"That'd be the ticket, wouldn't it? Maybe wait until we're all up a stage then so he can get us onto the A stage."

She nodded. "That'd be smartest, but honestly I don't know if we can keep him from initiating the collab for that long."

"Hmm. That is true. Say what you will, but Paul is eager to a fault."

The conversation drifted for a while. Warabi didn't have anything interesting going on save for a few potential duos. There was some drama on the B stage regarding someone swapping time slots. The military was still losing zapfish at a comedic rate. So on and so forth. The displeasure with the military is drawing a bigger crowd. Now might really be the best time for me to start moving up.

Eventually, Paul wandered back in from wherever he ran off too, and the conversation turned back towards music, but even that didn't last much longer. They all had things they needed to do. It was good catching up.

"Good luck with your shows tonight Ahato, not that you need it." Warabi called to her as he walked outside.

"Thanks man, enjoy yours too." He gave her a nod as he walked away. "What about you?"

"Someone managed to crack open a new human place somewhere!" Paul looked at her with stars in his eyes. "I don't know where, but they're supposed to recycle anything they don't think is valuable, so I'm gonna go try and get some new samples off the recordings they toss!"

"Sounds busy. Don't get in trouble, alright?" She gave him a good natured scowl, as she stood up.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Good." Ahato walked to the door, but paused before leaving. "...Paul, thanks for the beanie thing... It made me happy. I hope it's comfy."

"It's great!!"

"Glad to hear it, good luck with your stuff."

"Thanks! You too!"

With that, Ahato started the walk back to her room. Maybe... we can give the set one final once over. Just to be sure.

The Octobot King was nearly perfect. Unrestricted mobility. More ink capacity than two hundred soldiers combined. Weapons that could be used both with and without ink. A sound system more powerful than anything underground. The strongest broadcasting and wireless systems the domes had ever seen. With General Octavio himself piloting, the surface could be overrun in a matter of days. No attacks would be able to hit him as he rained hell down from above. It was a testament to the capabilities of the Octavians as a people.

It was a testament to what the Head Engineer could truly do when not held back.

She stared down at the nearly-complete blueprints. Construction had begun a month ago, assembly of all the disjointed pieces would begin tomorrow. Things had to move fast now. Morale and confidence were in decline. Zapfish were vanishing faster than they could use them to complete projects. Tensions were rising in every corner of the domes as more and more eyes turned to High Command and General Octavio for their response.

Her response. In the form of a weapon.

The only thing she hadn't finished was the kinetic weapon system. A pair of momentum based, pressurized air and ink propelled fists designed to be fired with enough force to splat whatever was underneath. A taut cord would pull the fist back, allowing it to be fired again after just a moment to reseat itself in the launcher.

Her design was entirely unique, unlike anything ever seen before.

The sound system was designed with DJ Octavio's musical proclivities in mind, ensuring the performance he put on would be remembered for generations, not just by the Octavians, but by everyone as he broke onto the surface and began his attack. Radio transmitters strong enough to hijack any and all frequencies in a three thousand mile radius would hear his message.

All possible because of her work on wireless transponders, years ago.

Even the propulsion was something new. It was an upgraded version of the floater tech that enabled this war in the first place. The old stuff was slow, only able to propel in a single direction, and quite slowly at that. Using it as a basis, she developed an upgrade that enabled a single floater to move omnidirectionally while still keeping the user above the ground. With a Great Zapfish powering the machine, power constraints were not a concern, so dozens of these floaters lined the device, working in tandem to zip it through the air faster than anything before it.

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

No other engineer understood this machine. Not in the way she did. A handful of them understood individual components, but no one else could see and understand the full picture like she could. No one else could see the literal millions of problems and inefficiencies that plagued the design. No one else understood the amount of work she had to put in to make this a mere hypothetical, much less a fully functional, combat ready machine. If things progressed as they should, no one else ever would.

"All this, why're ya pushing yourself so far."

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

A sharp, involuntary gasp broke her from her thoughts. No, no. I have to. It's what... It's why... Panting, she looked back to Cuttlefish's cell. He was inside, laid out on his cot, asleep. The sight of him made her eyes burn. She hadn't spoken a word to him in the hours after his escape. A tiny part of her reveled in the pain she'd seen in his eyes., knowing he felt even a fraction of the pain he did. Most of her wanted to feel his arms around her again. A hand on her shoulder, a slap to the face. She wanted to feel someone again.

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

"Marina, ya can't keep doin this to yerself. It ain't right."

Her eyes trembled as she forcefully broke her gaze from the cell. She needed to look at something else. Anything else. She wasn't a role model. She shouldn't be looked up to. She couldn't even keep her mind on the most important task she had ever been given. She was a failure, through and through.

The counters on either side of her lab held numerous testaments to that. Her eyes scraped over each one, memories of the dead end projects barely a better distraction than the spiral she was trying to avoid. Autonomous combat drone; couldn't keep the size small enough for viable production. Energizing dirt to promote larger crop yield; inconclusive results, and not enough resources to create a larger study. Double-coil based zapfish battery; promising, but we no longer have zapfish to spare for testing. On and on she went. Her eyes swept over countless failed revolutions. Transport, mechanical efficiency, computational speed, processing power, food preservation, crop growth, cleanliness and hygiene items, none of it was good enough to come from the Head Engineer.

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

"Bullsquid! People lived a hundred years down here before you stepped in."

She gripped the side of her head as her mind returned to war with itself. The thought of even touching a single one of her failed designs made her ache down to her soul. The hours, the months spent working on all of them, and it wasn't good enough. It wouldn't ever be good enough. Her eyes felt heavier than lead as she looked down at the blueprints on her desk.

They needed more work. They always needed more work. It wasn't enough to design countless original concepts from the ground up, there needed to be more. It wasn't enough to upgrade every technology in the domes, there needed to be more. There needed to be more. She had to work for literal weeks straight, but there needed to be more. There had to be more. She starved herself, but there needed to be more. She worked through states of delirium before her body gave out and made her rest, but there needed to be more. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't ever enough. They needed more work. They always needed more work.

"Maybe it shouldn't get done then."

"Ya have to stop."

In a moment of weakness, she snatched Ahato's headphones from the edge of her desk. The cold of the metal grounded her, bringing her back to reality. She missed her friend. She missed her life before all of this started. She missed living. She wanted to go back to how things were. She wanted to find her friend and make everything right.

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.

But things didn't work like that.

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

She couldn't just leave.

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

There was more work to be done.

The Head Engineer should use every resource at her disposal to ensure the betterment of the domes.

If she couldn't do this anymore, than something had to change. She had to change. The Head Engineer numbly set the headphones on the desk in front of her. She reached to the other end of her desk and pulled something to the front, which were set beside the headphones. A deep, quivering breath left her as she looked down at the item before her.

A dark pair of shades, covered in computer chips and wiring.

It only took two encounters with a flickering light for her to determine that flashing colors had a deterministic effect on the brain. So long as conditions were identical, the same color would always have the same effect. These flashes of color could be chained together to manipulate the brain, but the process was so incredibly delicate and complicated it was nearly impossible to get anything but a splitting headache and vertigo.

But not impossible. After months of miserable work, she had made the first semi-viable prototype. A pair of shades with two layers of specially made screens capable of flashing thousands of tiny lights a second. It was hard to overstate how much easier it was to suppress thoughts rather than create new ones. After a week of splitting headaches and testing, she had created the first pair of behavior correcting shades within the domes. The suppression of all distractions, internal or external, by simply donning a pair of sunglasses.

She created the first version of cloaking technology from scratch that day.

Immediately after, when the work was done and she was capable of thinking about taking the shades off, she scrapped the project. The sheer amount of pain she had been in had left her out of commission for nearly a month.

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

The shades were configured to ignore that as well. As long as she never took them off, she would never have to face the consequences of using them. She could be the Head Engineer the domes needed. The one everyone expected her to be. The unending source of genius and revolution that would change the world on a monthly basis. The perfect engineer. The perfect role model. The perfect soldier.

The only thing she had to do, as accept that Marina wasn't a person who mattered.

"All this, why're you pushing yerself so far?"

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

"But WHY are ya doin this?"

" WHY DID YA GIVE UP?"

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

"Marina, ya can't keep doin this to yerself. It ain't right."

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

"That's why THEY want ya to do it. Why are YOU doing it?"

Yer going to let this life KILL YOU before you do a damn thing about it!"

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

"Marina, yer going to DIE if you don't change something!"

"Maybe it shouldn't get done then."

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

"Ya have to stop."

She stared down at the two items. Ahato's silver headphones, and The Head Engineers Shades. Minutes passed as she stared down at the items, unmoving, except for the shaky breaths she drew in.

Marina reached out, and made her choice.

Ahato drew a deep breath. She wasn't nervous. Nervous is what day one down here was. Waltzing in with barely any equipment and worming my way onto the sets. This isn't nervous, this is just... shit. Nerves, I guess.

She sighed, once again massaging her shoulder as she waited for the clock to tick over. She'd already done her checks and tests— that's what the 15 minutes between each performance was for— so the only thing she could do right now was wait. Wait and worry, though that doesn't help anybody.

With nothing else to do, her mind again wandered back to those scant few seconds she'd heard that night. Just a fraction of a song, not even half a minute's worth, but it still might change everything for her. That moment had been the impetus that let her get her life back together after that day, and while the memory and pains may haunt her, ultimately, she'd ended up in a much better place than she could have ever hoped for. I think everything's going to be alright. I think I'll make it.

The piercing red glow of the clock ticked to the top of a new hour, and Ahato walked onto the stage to a surprisingly loud chorus of cheers. A smile pulled at her mouth as she recognized faces in the crowd. Warabi and Paul were in there, as well as a handful of other musicians she knew. Beside them, though, were about two dozen faces she recognized from her other twilight shows on the smaller stage, all cheering her on with excitement. Oh my cod, I actually have fans.

The feeling was empowering. Doubts fled from her mind as the confidence and joy of the crowd bled into her. She could do this. Let's put on a show, then, shall we?"

Ahato tapped her laptop to queue the first song, and set her fingers on the turntable before her, ready to make the most of her chance. Let's do this.

And then she spotted Marina on the edge of the crowd, staring up at her, and wearing her headphones.