A collective gasp from the soldiers broke the silence as he landed. Quinn tried his best to ignore the tens of thousands of people watching him, instead focusing on the arena he stood in.

The space was quite simple, just a large, rectangular collection of floating platforms, though he couldn't see the zapfish powering them anywhere. It was just large enough that a short superjump could cover the distance edge to edge. Off of the center was a thin, long, and winding path of more platforms that branched off of the stage that led up to a ramp. It was far enough away that he couldn't cover the gap with a superjump.

Slightly more disturbing was the countless massive mechanical tentacles writhing up out of the darkness. Red speakers glowed along each edge, silent at the moment.

"This is spooky... why is everyone so quiet?" Callie whispered in his ear.

"It's the start of the show..." Marie mumbled. "What's up with that weird platform trail? Does that ramp even lead anywhere?"

"I don't think so..." Quinn kept the Hero Shot ready, just in case something tried to get the jump on him.

"It's probably best to avoid that pathway if you can help it." The sound of Callie's claws drumming against the plastic table they were using echoed through the mic.

Marie sighed, trying desperately to relieve stress. "I don't like this. I feel like we--" She cut off with a sharp inhale, as though she'd seen a ghost.

Quinn's attention snapped to the only thing moving in his peripheral vision. A single, small platform was rising out of the darkness below. On it was a familiar figure, tied to a chair.

"GRAMPS!" Callie cried.

Quinn watched the platform rise, rooted to the spot. It stopped slightly to the side of the ramp at the end of the pathway.

"STAY BACK AGENT 3! IT'S A TRAP!!" The Captain screamed at him over the gap, the desperation carrying his voice across the dome.

Ice gripped Quinn's hearts. He nearly lurched forward, intent to save The Captain, when a single low note began to echo through the air. Soon, a second note was added. Then a third, and a forth, and a fifth, creating a haunting harmony that swelled in volume as something started to rise from the darkness. Cheering erupted from the crowd, adding to the hellish swell of noise.

Louder and louder the cheers grew, until they reached a fever pitch as a massive machine shot out of the void below. It spun, swooped, and dived through the air, clearly flaunting its own capabilities. The fact that something so big, bigger than a two story building, could move so freely, so effortlessly was horribly intimidating on its own. It was essentially a massive sphere, with a quarter cut out to be the "stage" with all the buttons, switches, turntables, and... wasabi sticks? Lights hung from the racks above him, highlighting the massive color-changing screen behind him.

On the side of the machine were two massive cannons, but instead of an opening for a projectile, two massive, gold-colored fists were jammed into them instead. Between them, in the space below the "stage" was what looked like a row of speakers. He wasn't sure if that's what they actually were, because they looked quite different from the ones that lined the sides of the structure, above the fist canon. Along the bottom were some strange coiled devices, presumably how the thing flew if he had to guess.

DJ Octavio himself was not at all like Quinn was expecting. Rather than a crinkly old man like The Captain, an extraordinarily large octarian in swim form was in the pilot's seat. It was impossible to see all of his limbs, but of the pairs he could see, one was holding wasabi sticks on the turntables, and another was folded across his chest, proudly displaying a neon green scar across one of the arms. Bulging, angry green eyes bent up at the corners as he smiled at the soldiers. He was wearing some kind of robes, and a large ornate golden headpiece.

He flew around the tentacle speakers with a concerning level of precision. Flashing lights of all colors shined from every angle of the stage as the DJ showboated for the crowd.

The rising harmony reached its climax, before cutting out and letting laughter echo in its place. "GYAHAHAHA! DJ Octavio in the house!!"

The cheering of the soldiers literally shook the air itself as they screamed support for their leader. Things were so loud that Quinn couldn't make out what his companions were saying in his headset.

"My soldiers! I gather you all here to witness history! For too long, we've been forced underground! TRAPPED under an artificial sky and deprived of the resources we needed to thrive! Harassed by forces from the outside in the homes we were forced into!" He took a moment to bask in the frantic cheering before suddenly slamming a fist down on the console and leaning forward. An orchestral hit blared, shocking the crowd into silence and adding weight to his words.

The pit deepened in Quinn's stomach as he watched Octavio effortlessly rile up every soul underground. This wasn't a show, this was a rally. They were expecting the DJ to just show off the machine and get the crowds back on his side. But no, the rhetoric was far too ignited and the passion from the soldiers proved they were eager to listen. It felt like all the ink in his body froze as he watched. There was so much more here than they anticipated— just how badly did they misjudge this fight?

"NO MORE!" DJ Octavio roared. "Today marks a day of great change for the Octavian Empire! Today, we will strike the surface, and make the first moves into our future!!! I present to you all, the Octobot King!!"

Fireworks shot out of the side of the machine as he flew it around at dizzying speeds, obviously relishing just how maneuverable it was. Lights of every color flashed in celebration as all the screens showed different angles of the DJ's gleeful expression. If the crowd had been deafening before, there were no words he could use to describe them now. The cheering was so powerful it nearly knocked him off balance it made the world shake so hard.

Octavio took time to relish in the cheers, before suddenly turning the Octobot King towards the inactive sky. "IT IS TIME FOR A NEW AGE!" He cried, as both fists began to rotate in their bays. Before anyone could process what was happening, they launched towards the roof of the dome with tremendous speed, slamming into the top, and piercing their way right through, revealing the cave on the other side.

Two long cords attached to the fists suddenly went taught as they were pulled back into their bays. "OUR CONFINEMENT SHALL LAST NO LONGER!" The right fist started spinning again, before launching at another section of the screens. "MY PEOPLE SHALL WALK ON THE SURFACE AGAIN!" He shot the left fist as the right one pulled back in. He continued, throwing alternating punches through the ceiling of the dome, until there was a hole big enough for the Octobot King to fit through. "THE OCTAVIAN EMPIRE SHALL RISE FROM THE GRAVE WE WERE FORCED INTO, AND RECLAIM WHAT'S OURS!"

"BUT FIRST!!" Another orchestra hit, this one much louder, blared through the arena, putting all the attention back on the DJ. "I believe there's a small pest problem that needs taken care of!" A second orchestra sting blared, before a thumping drum beat and some kind of warbling synth sound started playing.

For one, horrible, unending second, every pair of eyes on the domes were locked on him. Quinn could only stare back at the DJ, until he suddenly vanished as he swung the Octobot King around. He started to circle the platform as more and more synths piled into the soundtrack.

Quinn started circling back. Tactically, he was in a really poor position. From his place on the ground, Octavio was well outside the range of the Hero Shot, and it was horribly unlikely he'd stay still long enough for Quinn to superjump a bomb up to him. The only thing he could do was evade attacks for now, and hope Octavio screwed up and gave him an opening. Somehow.

"Hang in there Quinn!" Callie cheered for him over the radio.

"Did he say attack on the surface!?" Marie shouted in horror.

"Y'all ready for this!?" The DJ cackled as a new wave of cheering erupted from the crowd.

"Look out!" Callie cried, but Quinn was already jumping out of the way. The Octobot King had gone still in the air, as one of the fists began to rapidly spin in its chamber, before it suddenly shot out at him faster than something that size had the right to move. He barely managed to dive out of the way before the platform's surface crunched under the impact. The lights on the impacted platforms, and many of the ones around it began to flicker and shake as the taunt cord connected to the fist suddenly tightened. The lights died completely as the fist was pulled back, slotting back into its bay with a loud metallic clang.

Quinn watched in horror as the affected platforms lost power and fell down into the darkness below.

"RUN!!!" someone shouted through his headset, kicking Quinn into motion just before a volley of missiles hit the ground where he stood, each one exploding in a burst of magenta ink as they made impact. A few of the splashes hit him, but the Hero Suit absorbed the ink, keeping him safe for now.

"GYHAHAHAHA!! BETTER MOVE LITTLE INKLING! YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF GROUND!" The other fist launched towards him, striking more platforms he'd been standing on a moment ago. Quinn watched as those platforms too lost power, but more concerningly, how several of the nearby platforms also lost power when the ones they were touching fell. The entire stage was unstable, there wasn't a choice.

He weaved through another volley of missiles, taking a few small bursts of ink in the process, and superjumped to the first thin platform just as a fist began to rotate. Another crunch told the fate of another section of stage. Quinn ran as fast as he could across the platform. He didn't know where any of the weak points were, the only safe option was to get across it as soon as possible, so Octavio couldn't knock it out from under him.

"What's wrong little guy? Can't handle my spicy wasabi beats? Octavio mocked him as a massive barrage of missiles, twice the size of the previous ones launched at him. Quinn swung the Hero Shot in a downwards arc in front of himself, coating the ground in blue ink he used to escape the attack.

"JUMP!" Marie screamed in his ear.

Trusting her call, Quinn abandoned his ink-coverage plan and superjumped across the gap to the next platform, skipping the corner all together. His momentum nearly carried him over the edge as he landed, but he managed to hold on by throwing his weight to the side and recovering from the stumble. A loud crunch signaled the end of the platform he'd been on.

"Quinn you neED TO MOVE. YOU NEED TO MOVE GO GO GO GO!!!!" Callie shrieked, the fear in her voice unlike anything he'd ever heard from her before . At the same time, a piercing high pitched sound started in the distance. Quinn sprinted forward with everything he could, abandoning any semblance of caution in favor of speed.

A beam of pure sonic sound ripped through the ground less than two steps behind him. Any contact with a regular killer wail would result in an immediate splat, and this was something far more powerful than that. He could taste iron in his mouth as he desperately stumbled forward, barely keeping just ahead of the beam. Blood trailed from his ears as the sheer force of sonic energy shook every sensitive organ in his body.

Quinn barely managed to hurl himself across the next corner, where he landed hard on his chest. Luckily, the beam continued in a straight line, sparing him from its destructive power. Still, Quinn frantically crawled his way forward before he could pick himself up and keep his balance. The ringing in his ears only left the impression of the crowd's roaring through.

He could hear the sound of Callie and Marie's voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying, nor did he have the time to try and figure it out. More missiles were flying towards him, the biggest volley yet. He could see the turn to the next platform just a few seconds ahead. The next platform was surprisingly short, enough that he could skip it entirely with a superjump. Quinn managed to land safely two platforms ahead just as the missiles hit the ground.

"BRACE YOURSELF!" cried Sheldon's muffled voice, just before the platform he was on shook so violently it knocked him to his knees. Just a few steps ahead of him, a giant golden fist was embedded in the platform. He tried desperately to regain his footing, but the platform rattled in the air as the fist dislodged, just as several missiles exploded in the space around him. Flames of pain lit up around his body as magenta ink began to seep through the Hero Suit. Despite this, Quinn managed to drag himself a few steps forward as the lights on the edge of the platform flickered.

The world slowed to a crawl as they blinked out, and the platform began to fall. Seconds felt like hours as he pulled himself to his feet using the imprint of the fist as an aid. He clumsily sprinted down the length of the platform. Each step felt like he was pushing through a well of enemy ink. There was no other choice but to make another desperate superjump to reach the final ramp.

The cheers of the crowd reached a fever pitch and the music swelled as he flew upwards through the air. Quinn just barely crested the edge of the ramp, pulling himself up just as Octavio launched another volley of missiles. He could just barely hear the DJ's echoing laughter as he pushed himself forward, avoiding contact, but taking splash after splash of ink. The piercing shriek of a charging killer wail forced Quinn to throw himself to the side just before it fired, where he landed on the platform that had come out of the dark. He immediately tried to pick himself up, but his haggard breath and shaking arms made that an impossible task.

"Agent 3!" The worried voice of The Captain Pierced through the fog in his mind. "Get up lad! You need to get out of here!!"

Looking up revealed the worried face of The Captain hovering over him. The rope that had held him to the chair was on the ground, still tied.

"Get up kid! Please!!"

Painstakingly, he tried to get up again. His body was so sore. He struggled, taking horrible, desperate gasps of air as he tried to force sense back into his body.

"QUINN!! SHELDON GET US THROUGH NOW!" Marie screamed over the headset.

"NO QUINN! Just a second longer, please we're almost there!" Callie yelled back as she ran from the mic.

"OCTAVIO!!" The Captain roared, louder than Quinn had ever heard. "STOP THIS!"

Quinn kept trying to fight his way to his feet. He'd burnt through everything he had, and taken too much ink. He could feel it seeping through the Jacket, burning against his skin as his muscles cried in protest.

"GYAHAHA! Bit late for that now Captain! Coming into MY turf and picking fights will only end poorly for you!"

"THIS AIN'T HOW IT HAS TA GO!! OCTAVIO!!"

"Sorry old friend. This is the best--"

Octavio cut off as Quinn staggered to his feet. Despite his body screaming in protest. He took a single, protective step in front of his grandfather, and raised the Hero Shot in defiance.

The crowd screamed in disapproval. Even Octavio himself missed the cue for the next instrument. He recovered quickly, spinning the missed cue into a weird, off-beat version of itself as the tension again started to climb to a climax.

"Not had enough Agent 3?" The music continued to rise, as one of the fists began to spin. "Then, let's D-D-D-D DROP THE SEA BASS!!"

As the fist flew towards him, an ache tore through Quinn's hearts. After everything he'd done, this was it?

No.

A searing fire shot through his veins. This was not the end he would accept kindly. Not while he could still fight.
Not while he was protecting his grandfather.
Not while his sisters were waiting for him.

Not while he still had a home.

As a final act of defiance, he slapped off the limiter on the back of his tank, pulled the Hero Shot's trigger in and rolled his palm across the handle. The tentacles on his head erupted in a blue-white glow as a primal scream forced its way from his mouth. Quinn steadied the Hero Shot with both hands, and fired at the fist.

A literal beam of ink escaped the weapon, clashing directly with the metal appendage. Its gold-plated knuckles forced its way forward, but the momentum was noticeably slowing.

In five seconds, his ink tank was nearly empty. In eight, it was gone. He felt his strength begin to falter as he relied solely on his own ink production to sustain the attack.

Suddenly, there was a pressure against his back. The Captain had braced himself against Quinn, giving him the stability he needed to maintain his aim. The burning against his body began to sooth as blue ink seeped through the Hero Suit where The Captain held him, washing out the magenta that had been clinging to his skin.

The music blared, artificially held at the peak of its drop as the fist hung in midair, its own propulsion balanced to the power of the attack. Emboldened by his grandfather, Quinn took a single step forward, giving his ink a surge of momentum.

The music glitched, before cutting out into a sea of static.

For one terrible, everlasting second, nothing happened. And then the fist budged. Things happened in an instant. One moment Quinn stared his death in the eyes; the next the fist was rocketing back towards Octavio, knuckles first.

Punchy synths blared to life from every speaker in the domes. Every screen in the dome cut away from the fight as the Calamari Inkantation echoed through the air. Quinn could only watch, stunned as the fist rocketed backwards, directly into DJ Octavio.