Today was a very bad day for Arai. Starting the day extra early to herd a bunch of fucking nobodies from some underground club had been awful enough. Listening to her unit mates fall over themselves apologizing for doing it was even more annoying.

Being forced to sit in the stands was a soured blessing. One one claw, it was nice to not have to work, or train, or any of the other shrimpshit like that. On another, it meant she was stuck sitting with her entire squad, with nothing to distract them but conversation.

Conversation. With her squad. For multiple hours.

And reefs below, she could not catch a break with these fucking people. All anyone did was talk talk talk, yell yell yell, scream scream scream. There were so many soldiers in the dome that it was becoming increasingly necessary to rip your throat out just to be heard, which only made everyone get louder and louder and louder. All of her squad mates yelling was pushing limits Arai didn't know she even had, her typical thresholds passed hours ago. Worse than anything else though was, unsurprisingly, Alibi and Ramona. They dealt with the wait just as poorly as she did, in the complete opposite way.

They. Just. Could. Not. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.

A stray comment about how the seating sucked became a twelve minute routine where the two lovefish incessantly pestered the other to 'sit on my lap, no YOU sit on MY lap. A complaint about the lighting had them sucking face for minutes on end to 'shield their eyes' from them. When someone complained about the heat, they damn near stripped each other right there in the stands. The endless flirting, squeaky chittering laughs, confident purrs, for hours and hours in the least comfortable place in the entire underground had to be the worst experience of her life.

Imari wasn't there to do any regulating, and the few times Arai had tried to get them to stop she wasn't even sure her voice could be heard in the unbearable wall of sound. All she could do was kind of... shut down. Everything built up so much, pushed her limits to such an extreme that the only thing she could do was just, sit and take it. Let the sensory information was over here and just move past it, unthinking, unfeeling. It was either that, or have a complete breakdown in front of literally everybody in the domes.

Even Agent 3's appearance at the entrance wasn't enough to force her back into herself. The relief at it finally being quiet was the only thing her mind could remotely focus on. Arai barely watched as he jumped to the middle of the arena, and started yelling something as the old captain rose out of the darkness.

And then the music started. She could only sit along, helplessly as the noise reached a deafening new pitch and fervor. The crowd screamed like they were being boiled alive as the General spoke about the surface and freedom. Arai couldn't process a single word of it, and things only got worse as the music swelled and the DJ turned to attack Agent 3.

Watching with dead eyes, Arai felt nothing as the DJ chased Agent 3 around, toying with his life as he jumped from platform to platform. The killer wail didn't do a thing to help the pounding inside her head, or the tears welling in her eyes. Finally, the DJ cornered him, right next to the captain.

And despite it all, despite the spanning disconnect between herself and the world around her, a ribbon of rage still shot though her hearts as Agent 3 defiantly staggered his way to his feet. The atmosphere palpably changed at that moment. Even through the spanning haze she'd been trapped in, Arai could feel that same feeling, that same feeling of dread that she knew meant everything was about to change.

Agent 3 turned the fist back at Octavio. With a single attack, he sent the entire underground world into a spiral.

Chaos broke out in the stands. The cheering turned to shrill screams as soldiers started to panic. People jumped out of their seats; all soldiers trained to act but currently lacking any weapons, or means to actually do anything. Even her unit had budged, uncertainty and fear twinging their cries as they tried to understand what was happening, or what they should do.

Not Arai. She didn't so much as twitch when the fist made contact with Octavio. The entire world bled out as the entire concept of sound was overwritten by the surrounding soldiers. Arai simply refused to process the information in front of her. She couldn't. Not here. Not like this. All she did was sit, unmoving, as she stared down at Agent 3.

"Quinn! Are ya ok lad?"

His ears still rang and his world was only just barely starting to balance out. The Calamari incantation echoed through the domes as The Octobot King spun out in the air. Quinn could only stare, rooted to the spot, completely overwhelmed with what was happening. An huge burst of motion filled the span of his vision as half of the soldiers in the domes started to panic. Cheers turned to screams of fear and rage as everyone was left floundering for what to do.

He'd actually done it. He warded off Octavio's attack and protected The Captain.

"Hey, speak ta me son, are ya there?" The Captain stepped beside him, gently, but firmly grabbing his shoulder and shaking it.

"Y-yeah. That was just... a lot."

"That was damn crazy is what it was! Yer incredible! All three of ya! Stealin his spotlight is fantastic plannin!"

"Yeah... we..." Quinn trailed off as he watched the Octobot King drift aimlessly through the air. The DJ hadn't completely lost control of the thing, but it was obvious that he was losing altitude with every sluggish attempt to keep from crashing into the stands. It was hard to miss the damage the fist had done, with half the controls and most of the DJing equipment crushed beyond recognition.

"This isn't over." Quinn quietly declared.

The Captain looked at him, unsure, but not disapproving. He supported himself with a cane that Quinn hadn't seen him get.

In the background, the Squid Sisters continued to perform, taking the chance between their verses to call out carefully worded messages to the occupants, encouraging them to break free from Octavio's rule.

"He still has the Great Zapfish. If we don't get it back now, we'll have to do this again."

The Captain visibly hesitated. "Are ya sure ya can still fight? Ya look pretty worn after that stunt."

In an almost haze-like state, Quinn took stock of his supplies. Bombs were still full, eight on each shoulder. His armor was pretty thoroughly penetrated, though The Captain's ink had removed the immediate danger it posed. Still, a few places along his torso and arms stung with little patches of enemy ink. In a broader sense, he was quite fatigued, physically, mentally, and ink production wise. Using his special had burnt most of his body's energy reserves, and his own ink production had slowed dramatically as a result. He only had was still in the Hero Shot, which was at least practically full with residual ink from the attack.

Quinn's eyes traced along the area, taking note of what was still in the air. There was a decent sized chunk of platforms from the initial stage, and two sections of the pathway still floating; the short one he'd skipped, and the one he'd jumped off of to do that. He traced the Octobot King through the air as the haphazard scraps of a plan threw themselves together in his head.

"Yeah," he said, kneeling down and turning his back towards the Captain. "Could you fill my tank? I don't have it in me to make more right now."

Wordlessly, The Captain unsealed the top of the tank and hung his hands inside of it. Quinn couldn't see the old man's face, but he could feel the reluctance in the actions all the same. Because they were filling the tank from the top rather than the side, it meant they couldn't pressurize the ink to fill it completely, so he only ended up with about a standard turf war's tank of ink.

"Are ya sure about this lad?" The Captain asked after sealing the top of the tank.

"I am. We don't get a better shot at things than this, it's got to be done--"

Quinn cut out as The Captain wrapped his arms around him. "I'm so proud of you, son. You've done fantastic work. Please, be careful." His words were reverent and gentle, and the hug tighter than anyone his age should have been capable of.

When The Captain finally stepped back, Quinn gave him a smile. "I will, Gramps. I'll be back in a moment." With that, he turned, and started running down the ramp. His legs were shaky, but seemed to be holding him up well enough. It was time to end this.

Drawing about a quarter of the ink from his tank, Quinn superjumped to the short platform. He didn't wait there for long, for the moment the Octobot King floated into range, Quinn launched himself at the machine with another quarter of his tank and a second super jump.

He slightly miscalculated the jump, and rather than landing square in the imprint of the fist like he was aiming for, he ended up slamming feet first into the stage wall above Octavio. The entire structure buckled in the air, but Quinn stayed close, dropping down onto the sides of the machine.

The unstable Octobot King did not make balancing easy, but Quinn managed to find his balance well enough to draw a bomb from his shoulder. Tapping it to the Hero Shot, he stepped forward and swung it directly at Octavio. Unfortunately, one of Octavio's tentacles shot out and caught his arm before he could deliver the finishing blow.

Quinn didn't let that slow him. "Land this thing Octavio! I can't let you keep the Great Zapfish!"

"You idiot! You have no idea what you've done! I spend DECADES of planning and maneuvering to whittle it down to this! Do you even know what's at stake here!?"

Quinn twisted his arm sharply at the same time he deliberately kicked a functional-looking series of control levers. A torrent of sound effects played as the Octobot King lurched in the air, giving him the chance he needed to wrench himself free. "I'm not letting you have your war!!"

"GRYH!" The DJ lashed outwards, swerving the Octobot King to throw off Quinn's balance.

Rather than tumble into the void, Quinn let the momentum slide him against the edge wall, avoiding the attack. He aimlessly chucked the bomb in his hands towards Octavio, before jumping off the Octobot King just before Octavio could swerve it again.

He landed on the starting platform's remains, but he only stayed there for a moment. Drawing the last of the ink from his tank, Quinn launched himself back towards the DJ, preparing a pair of bombs as he landed.

"I SAID LAND THIS MACHINE!"

"You little pest! This wasn't about war! It was about preventing it!" The DJ swiped at him again, but Quinn threw one of the bombs at his feet, using the spray of blue ink to shield himself.

"Last chance." Quinn met the DJ's eyes, but he couldn't read anything behind them.

"I won't betray--" Octavio started, but Quinn cut him off by throwing the second bomb near him. The burst of blue ink forced the large octarian back, giving Quinn enough room to make a leap for the controls.

Unfortunately, right as he landed in the cockpit, his feet hit some kind of pedals, which immediately caused the Octobot King to spin out. Panicked, Quinn grabbed a lever and pulled trying in vain to regain some semblance of control. In response, the Octobot King stopped floating all together, plummeting straight downwards.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU MORON!?" Octavio forced him to the side and desperately grabbed at the controls.

Five of the DJs tentacles lashed outwards, gripping levers and pressing pedals to try to regain control. There was a horrifying second where Octavio hissed something he couldn't understand, and flinched. There were two pedals the DJ was reaching for, but his tentacles refused to move.

Quinn didn't think, he just lunged towards them, pressing his own feet against them and pushing them downwards. The Octobot King whirred to life, all the lights on board flashing in some kind of startup sequence. At the same time the DJ slammed all his pedals down and pulled multiple levers. Quinn followed suit, flooring the two he controlled. The world itself seemed to slam into Quinn's chest as the Octobot King's propulsion immediately worked to counter the fall.

It wasn't going to be enough. Even in the darkness, he could see the ground approaching far faster than they were slowing. Unsure what else to do, Quinn frantically looked around for somewhere he could jump, but froze when he realized there wasn't any ink left in the tank for him to draw.

Moments before they hit the ground, Quinn felt tentacles wrap around him and pull him back. He landed to the slimy feeling of another person's swim form, and 5 tentacles wrapping themselves around him. Before Quinn could figure out what was happening, there was a sudden explosion of noise as the Octobot King slammed into the ground.

Everything hurt.

That was the first cognizant thought Quinn managed after waking up. The world spun, his ears rang as a dull thud echoed somewhere, and his body hurt.

He tried moving. He could make his arms and legs move but he couldn't seem to find any traction on the slimy material below him. What...

The memories crashed into him with the force of an inkzooka. HE WAS ALIVE.

Quinn forced himself to move again, pushing against the side of whatever he was on and pulling himself. There were... arms wrapped around him that he had to wriggle out of before he managed to roll his way to solid ground. Finally, Quinn forced his eyes open, and nearly choked in shock when he saw the unconscious form of an old man sprawled out next to him.

Wrinkled skin and thin limbs indicated he was around The Captain's age. Long, magenta tentacles ran down the back of his head, curling around brown skinned shoulders. A large mustache hung over his lips, while obvious bags clung to the space around his eyes. Decorative robes with a careful, intricate pattern barely lay overtop his body, and a large, ornate golden headpiece lay nearby.

This was Octavio?

It was strange, seeing his enemy, this almost... mythologized figure, on the ground in front of him, so frail. This was the man responsible for keeping everybody trapped underground, for orchestrating this entire attack, and for kidnapping his grandfather.

And he had... protected Quinn. Slowly, Quinn looked at the place he'd been just before Octavio had pulled him away. A massive metal rod had pierced through the metal of the stage, occupying the space he'd been in moments before the crash. Quinn slowly looked back down at the old man. He looked beaten and bruised, but he was breathing.

The world spun as Quinn tried to pull himself to his feet. He needed to move. He needed to get out of here. There had to be dozens, if not hundreds of soldiers running down the very ramps he took before the fight to get to their leader. He reached the ledge of the stage, and had to drop down about a foot to reach the ground. Immediately, his legs buckled, forcing him to use the side of the machine to steady himself lest he fall over.

The only thing he found was a vast, empty concrete field. Even getting to one of the walls would likely take an hour at the minimum in his current state. He'd be found long before he could get up the ramps, much less through the crowds and out of the dome.

What did he even do here?

Light still poured out of the Octobot King's screens, multi-colored lasers cutting through the darkness that engulfed him. The Squid Sisters’ music echoed down to him, distant and distorted by the sheer scale of the space he was trapped in. Quinn clutched his side and stumbled away from the wreckage, trying his best to ignore the burning protest from his body. He only made it a few steps before staggering backwards, his tank hitting the side of the wreckage with a dull thunk. Toppling to the ground, he only barely managed to avoid splaying on the ground by bracing his shoulder against the wall. There he sat, taking deep, desperate breaths while his vision darkened around the edges.

Was there anything he even could do?

He didn't even need to see his tentacles to know his body was basically void of ink. He could feel the dullness of his senses and lethargy pulling him to the ground, which was only compounded by his injuries. Tears burned in his eyes as he realized he didn't even have the Hero Shot with him.

There wasn't anything he could do here.

The tears fell unbidden, and Quinn couldn't even muster up the strength to wipe them from his eyes. It was over. He won the battle, but lost the war. The Octobot King would be repaired and in the air within a month. He failed.

That only left one single, final option. One last chance to end this, here and now. The Octobot King was a terrifyingly powerful weapon in its own right, but half of it's strength came from the ideology behind it. The pilot. The driver. The showman. Quinn might not be able to stop the machine, but he could stop the show.

He could kill Octavio.

It was objectively the best move. Kill the leader. Leave the military headless and scrambling to keep things together. Whoever they stick in the pilot seat couldn't possibly measure up to Octavio. This was a war. This is what needed to happen. If this was where his mission ended— and it most likely was— then he should do all he could. There wasn't much time before soldiers came down to save their leader, and Quinn couldn't escape in his current condition. He couldn't fight either, not without ink, and he was well away from the respawner he'd synched with at this point.

But you didn't need ink to kill someone.

Why couldn't he make himself move?

Why couldn't he do that? Ice gripped his body as he started to shake. An unsteady hand reached up to hold his face as his breathing grew erratic.

Why did he have to try and be a hero? Why did he need to push himself like this? Why did he need to keep fighting, even when his body had already given out on him? Why did he need to fight to begin with? Why did he have to run away at all?

This was all a mistake. He shouldn't have left his father. At least then he wouldn't have met The Captain, or Callie and Marie. At least then, when he died it wouldn't feel like he was losing anything. At least then he wouldn't mourn the apartment he'd never return to, or the affection he wouldn't get from The Captain. At least then, he wouldn't be tortured by faces he'd never see again. At least then, when he died, no one but him would mourn.

He hurt so bad. Every muscle wanted nothing but to stop. The place under his eye, dormant for so long recently, burned like it was trying to immolate him. "I... don't want to die..." Quinn whispered, his voice barely audible. He couldn't finish his mission. He couldn't save the people on the surface. He couldn't save himself. How could anyone decide to love him, if all he was going to do was die anyway?

Quinn pressed his head against his knees, and surrendered.

Until a small jolt tickled against his leg. With dead eyes, Quinn looked up, prepared to face his death if it was looming, but there was nothing there. Another small jolt tickled his knee, and he looked down at the ground. A small, glowing line of electricity jumped merrily along the ground, before striking his knee, causing the same feeling again. What...

THE GREAT ZAPFISH!

More small jolts of electricity bounded their way onto his leg as Quinn forced his mind back into order. The Great Zapfish was still alive! With shaky legs, Quinn pulled himself to his feet, having to lean on the wreckage to keep himself up. Slowly, he stumbled his way around the structure, wincing as his legs protested carrying the weight of the world. He cradled his side still, trying in vain to lessen the striking pain he felt there.

About a third of the way around, he found a gash in the side, ripped open by an internal support beam that was now jutting out over his head. A singular, bright yellow whisker poked out of the hole, laid close to the ground, letting off tiny jolts of electricity that danced along the edge of the wreckage. As Quinn approached, the whisker retreated, replaced by a singular, large beady eye, clearly analyzing him. He stared at the Great Zapfish, the one stolen from Inkopolis all those months ago, and it stared back.

Gathering his strength, Quinn asked, "Are you ok?" Immediately, his cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. What was he doing, talking to the Great Zapfish like that?

Only, the Great Zapfish nodded back.

Quinn blinked. "You can hear me."

Another nod.

"Do you have any way to get out?"

There was a pause, before a loud crashing sound echoed as the Great Zapfish slammed its tail into one of the wall panels. Quinn could see the panel it hit budge, but it wasn't knocked loose.

He traced the sheet of metal up and down. The back of the Octobot King was made of several vertical metal panels, all of which were held in place by a series of clips that ran along the top and bottom. How they managed to wrangle the Great Zapfish inside was lost on him, but they clearly attached this cover after the fact to keep it there. Unfortunately, he couldn't get to the clips at the bottom due to how it landed, but the two at the top were exposed.

Looking inside the gap again, it was clear why the Great Zapfish had chosen that panel. The material that lined the inside of the space was the same metal that lined the inside of its enclosure on the surface, designed to capture the power the Great Zapfish passively emitted. Unfortunately, it seemed that it was built in a lattice structure that held the panels in place. All but that middle panel, which was only covered with basic insulation. He'd seen it budge, so if he could just somehow unhook the two clips at the top, the Great Zapfish might be able to bend the panel down and escape.

It was only a few feet above him, but climbing was out of the question. There was nothing for him to grab onto, not that he had the strength to begin with. It was a pretty easy distance to superjump, but his body was still refusing to cooperate and his tank was just as dry. He'd used what, three bombs earlier? The Hero shot should still—

THE HERO SHOT! The haphazard scraps of a plan began to take shape in his mind. "I have to go get something, but I'll be right back." He explained, before starting his way back around the wreckage.

His stomach did flips when he recognized his own bloody footprints on the ground. Was that why he felt so weak? Tentatively, he pulled his hand off of his side, and blanched when he noticed his hand was also covered in blood. Thankfully, it was mostly dried, and with a bit of careful prodding, it seems like the wound had mostly sealed itself for the time being.

Quinn sucked down a gulp of air, and pulled himself back onto the stage. Stars filled his vision and he fell to his knees, but he didn't pass out or fall off. Octavio was still here, unconscious at the remains of his turntable. Quinn crawled forward on his knees, not trusting himself to stand at the moment. He found the Hero Shot not far from where he'd woken up, partially obscured by a cluster of stage lights that had fallen down. His stomach dropped as he realized that the bottom tank had been smashed open, but immediately felt relieved when he felt the slosh of ink in the top of the weapon.

Without wasting a moment, he carefully propped himself against the remains of the turntable, and set the Hero Shot up on the ground beside him. Every drop of ink counted here, and he didn't intend to lose any to shaky limbs. Once it was set, he opened the lid on the top tank, and dipped his fingers into the ink. It was rare to intake ink anywhere but the legs in the adult form, so things felt a little odd at first. The feeling of relief quickly overpowered it, as his body celebrated having even a tiny bit of ink inside of it. The Hero Shot's top tank held roughly the same amount as a third of a standard turf tank, so he was able to replenish a fair amount of ink with it.

With slowly mounting confidence, Quinn unsteadily got to his feet, and froze. The Hero Shot weighed heavy in his hands as he stared at the unconscious form of DJ Octavio. There were no thoughts as Quinn aimed the weapon, but his finger did not move towards the trigger. He could do it. He should do it.

But he didn't.

Without making a sound, Quinn holstered the empty Hero Shot, and bumbled his way to the ledge. There, he inelegantly carefully lowered one leg down, until it was flat on the ground. The impact nearly floored him the first time, it wasn't worth repeating that mistake if he could help it. Again, using the machine as an aid, he worked his way around the back until he was eyes to eye with the Great Zapfish again.

"The panel is held in place by clips, which I'm going to go up and pull back. When I do that, you need to push against the panel as hard as you can, to try and bend it, since we can't get to the clips at the bottom."

Again, the massive creature nodded, and retreated from the small tear in the side. Quinn stepped back, careful not to lose his balance, and he measured the distance to the top of the machine with his eyes. It crashed at an angle, so the actual 'lifting the clips' part was going to be tricky, but this was a one problem at a time solution. He only had a little bit of ink, and as such very few chances to get this right.

Gathering his courage, Quinn swapped forms, ignoring the instinctual warbled grunt he made in the process, and jumped. He landed before switched forms, unceremoniously plopping onto the top of the machine. He took a second to get his bearings, trying his best to ignore the spike in lethargy as his body again lacked ink.

"Ok, I'm at the top. I'll shout before I pull the clips up, but it might take me a moment to get in position." He had no way of knowing whether or not the Great Zapfish had heard him, so Quinn took a moment to steady himself. The clips were down at an angle, but not that steep of an angle. If he does things right, he should be able to brace his legs on the clips to the side of the ones he was targeting, and as long as he was out of the way of the panel they were trying to knock loose, he should be good.

With no time to waste, Quinn did just that. Sliding down the side, he easily found purchase on top of the clips extra, and placed one hand on each one they needed to pop open. Quinn gave each one a tentative squeeze, wincing at how much resistance they gave, and the effort this was going to take, but he didn't have a choice.

"I'm in position. I'm going to count down from three. On zero, I'm going to push down on the clips, and that's when you need to push."

There was a soft thunk against the panel. The Great Zapfish was ready.

Quinn let out a huff, and got his hands into position, making sure he cleared the panel they were about to shove out.

"Ok!"
"Three!"
"Two!'
"One!"

Quinn pressed down on the clips, letting out a strangled cry as he squeezed the things as tightly as he could. Not a moment later, the panel jerked forward as the Great Zapfish slammed into it. He immediately let go of the clips before the metal could bend back up, and immediately hugged the wall next to him so he didn't fall off as he panted from the effort. Things were still for a moment, giving him the chance to jump down into the ink puddle his superjump had left behind. He recovered as much ink from it as he could, before reforming on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

A slam echoed through the space as the metal panel jolted forward, making him jump as the panel bent forward enough that it wouldn't ever touch the clips again. The Great Zapfish struck at the panel repeatedly, each hit bending it further and further from its kin. When it was folded about halfway down, the ramming stopped. Quinn watched with bated breath. Was something wrong? Did the Great Zapfish get injured? He tried to stand up, but his legs refused to play along, leaving him stuck on the ground.

Suddenly, out of the gap, the truly massive form of the Great Zapfish broke free, effortlessly speeding through the air, electricity dancing through the space around it. It did several fast loops of the entire complex, clearly relishing in its freedom.

Quinn watched it fly around, and smiled. Without the Great Zapfish, there'd be no way for the Octavians to ever power the Octobot King. The creature seemed quite smart, so he had no doubt it'd be able to find its way outside, and then he could only hope back to Inkopolis.

With a gentle sigh, Quinn pushed himself off his knees and onto his side. Octavio was defeated, and the Great Zapfish was free. He'd done it. His body groaned in relief as he finally let it rest, his eyes drooping shut as he reassured himself of that fact.

He didn't even get time to rest before he felt a familiar tickling sensation against his knee. Quinn hesitantly opened an eye, only to find the Great Zapfish had landed on the ground beside him. What was it doing?

"Go..." he forced out. "Get out of here. Go back to the surface."

The Great Zapfish looked at him, shook its head no, and wriggled closer towards him.

Quinn squinted at the massive figure. He didn't know how far arguing with it would get him with the creature, but before he could test that limit, it again wriggled closer, almost like it was presenting a portion of its back to him.

"Do... you want me to ride you?"

The Great Zapfish nodded.

Quinn stared at the creature's back. He wanted to argue and protest; every second wasted down here was one closer to the soldiers arriving, but it didn't seem like the Zapfish was going to take no for an answer. He'd have to show it why it needs to go. Using the creature's side to stabilize himself, he somehow managed to get on his feet again. It wasn't even pain that flooded him, but pure, unfettered exhaustion. Every muscle twitch demanded more from him than he could give, but Quinn stumbled forward anyway.

His balance faltered and he practically fell against the Great Zapfish's back. His hands groped along the smooth, almost glossy surface, feeling for a handhold, or really anything he could grab at all. "I... there's nowhere for me to hold." He breathlessly explained. "Even if I could, I couldn't... I'm not strong enough to hold on. Not like this."

The Great Zapfish didn't react to his words. Quinn remained where he was, primarily out of exhaustion more than anything. He took a moment, gathering his strength, before pushing himself off of it's side. His hearts were touched, knowing that it wanted to save him, but it wasn't--

Quinn's mind blanked as he bumped against something solid behind him. Slowly, he turned to look, and was met by a glowing yellow shield around him, the same kind that zapfish would put around themselves for protection. A gasp escaped his lips as he put the pieces together. He wasn't riding the Great Zapfish out, it was going to carry him.

An involuntary sense of Awe filled him as the Great Zapfish took to the air. The shield around him pressed gently yet unrelentingly inwards, pushing him against the Great Zapfish's side, keeping him firmly pressed there, suspended above the ground. He'd superjumped through the air before, but simply being in the air like this was unlike anything he'd ever done before.

"Get us out of here!" He cried, a request the Great Zapfish seemed more than happy to oblige as it shot up into the air, out of the void. Quinn's spirit began to soar as they quickly flew up towards the mass of lights and sound. The panicked cries of the crowd seemed to multiply as they emerged from the dark. The frenzy seemed to triple, every soldier running in a different direction, completely lost at what to do.

The Great Zapfish circled around the arena, moving fast and seeking the exit. At the same time, Quinn located the man he was looking for amidst all the chaos. "Hey! Hey wait!" He called up to the Great Zapfish, hoping it could hear him. "We need to get The Captain! He's just down there, on the platform, and he'll be trapped otherwise!"

Quinn's stomachs turned as they suddenly changed course, dipping towards the platform at a concerning speed. "CAPTAIN!" He screamed as they circled overhead. "STAND NEAR ITS SIDE, IT'LL HOLD YOU AND FLY US OUT OF HERE."

If the Captain shouted something back, Quinn couldn't hear it over the deafening roar that emerged from the crowd nearby. The Great Zapfish lowered itself, unfortunately presenting the side opposite to Quinn for The Captain. A few seconds pass, and the Great Zapfish takes to the air again. The crowds let one final roar of sound as the trio flew up and through the hole in the dome that Octavio made at the start of the fight, and into the caves.

For a brief moment, the Great Zapfish stopped, suspending itself in the air. Sparks of electricity danced off of it in all directions, snaking its way across all the cave walls, and into the several tunnels connecting it to others in the system. Just as abruptly as they stopped, the started again. Whatever it did, the Great Zapfish seemed to understand the layouts of the cave, as it moved through the narrow tunnels far faster than it could possibly be reacting to them. It was too dark to see anything, and Quinn was disoriented completely three turns in; it was purely on the Great Zapfish to get them out now.

After several minutes of near-collisions with cave walls, light suddenly flooded in from somewhere ahead. Their speed did not slow as they escaped the caves and took to the skies. Dark orange light pooled around the valley walls, cast by the setting sun and cut by shadows. The chill of the almost-winter air outside was a shock, especially against the heat of the domes. The spanning, sun-soaked scene paled in comparison to anything that could ever be put on the screens.

As they flew, the soothing purples of night bled across the landscape, drowning everything in the comfort of gentle darkness, easing the world into its time of rest. At the same time, the marvelous glow of Inkopolis lit up the distance, bright and inviting all too busy for a break into its streets. He marveled at the ground below him as they crossed into the city, speeding over the endless sea of outskirts and suburbs that surrounded the city. As the buildings steadily grew in height, so too did the Great Zapfish's need to evade them. Soon, rather than in a straight line, they were drifting left and right, past one building, past five, ten, twenty. There was no stopping for anything as they flew closer and closer to the heart of the city.

Finally, they approached the place where everything began: Inkopolis Plaza. Finally, the Great Zapfish seemed to slow, taking more deliberate, slow motions through the air as it slowly circled Inkopolis tower. Its breadth was wide, flying overtop of the entire space, before slowly closing in and approaching the tower. It slowed again as it neared, like it was making a show about landing on the tower itself. As it few overtop of the Squid Sisters’ recording studio, it slowed again, and turned off the shield that was holding Quinn to its side.

The drop wasn't big, but to Quinn's tired body, it still hurt, causing him to groan. For the moment, he wanted nothing more than to lay there and watch the Great Zapfish pass overhead. Despite that, he forced himself to sit up as the Zapfish finally came to a rest, curling around Inkopolis Tower.

He stared up at it with wide, tired eyes. To think they had saved each other was a wonderful thing. Quinn didn't raise a hand, or mouth a word, or do anything else other than look, but somehow, he knew his sentiment was shared. Thank you.

"Quinn!" The sudden raspy cry startled him out of the moment, his hearts immediately racing as his muscles tensed, preparing for something that never came. Instead, he felt two bony arms wrap themselves around his torso as The Captain pulled him into a tight hug.

The old man shook with emotion as he pulled Quinn closer, like he was determined to never let go. "Mother of the Oceans, kid, I thought I lost you."

There wasn't an exact moment that everything finally hit him. The events of the day washed over him slowly, each one its own wave of feelings and memories. Quinn returned his grandfather's hug with as much force as he could in his weakened state. Tears poured from his eyes as the last vestiges of adrenaline holding his emotions at bay wore off. He was alive.

He didn't know how long they sat there, but eventually the tears did dry. The Captain slowly climbed to his feet, using the cane he had as support. "C'mon son, we need to get outta sight before people start lookin at the zapfish."

Quinn spared one final glance up at the Great Zapfish. Curled around the tower, it seemed happy with where it was and how things had gone. Ultimately, Quinn supposed he shared that feeling. He let The Captain help him to his feet, where they both then slowly made their way to the door on the far end of the rooftop. Guilt prickled at his mind for making the old man support him as they walked, but any attempt he made to alleviate his burden was met with a stern, but caring, glare.

The Captain smirked as he somehow pulled a mass of keys out from his pocket.

"Didn't they part you down?" Quinn asked, utterly confused.

"Oh-ho, they did, but no one wanted ta be the bastard that ripped a poor old man's last reminder of his kids away." The Captain gave him a wink, before slotting a key into the door, and leading him inside. They took a few moment's respite inside, the journey across the rooftop having taken a significant effort. He was just so damn tired but Quinn knew this wasn't the place to rest.

Before long, The Captain was leading him out the back door, and down the narrow outer staircase. They were forced to wait a few moments on the side street as a helicopter swept into the area, shining a spotlight onto the Great Zapfish. When it had maneuvered itself away, both Quinn and The Captain made a mad hobble towards the sewer grate that started everything, jumping into it without hesitation.

Quinn was content to just ride the inkflow until they had to turn off and make their way back up to the cabin. He barely made it out of the grate on the other side when he suddenly heard shouting.

"MARIE!!! MARIE THEY'RE DOWN HERE!!!" Callie shouted, surprisingly worried. She dropped past the ladder less than two seconds later. He hadn't even changed out of swim form yet, but his struggle must have been evident as Callie gently cupped her hands around him and lifted him into the air.

"Are you ok!? Are you hurt anywhere!? Oh, we should have been watching closer and helping you out! I don't—" Quinn gently raised one of his tentacles and set it on her shoulder, calming her. With his other tentacle, he gestured towards the grate, where The Captain was just emerging.

Marie dropped down at the same time, and sucked in a sharp breath as she saw what was before her. "Gramps!!" She shouted, rushing forward and catching the old man in a hug.

"Ough! Heya Squiddo, it's been a minute, eh?"

Callie muscled her way in beside her, holding Quinn right in the middle of the three of them as she pulled them into a tearful hug. "Oh my cod you're ok!! We didn't know what was happening, and you were gone and—"
Marie evidently felt the same way. "We were so scared! You just vanished and we weren't there to help and I—"

"Easy kids, let's get into tha Cabin before we talk it out. These old bones are gettin tired."

Both Callie and Marie startled, realizing just where they were, and how the newcomers must be feeling. The bid quick apologies before turning to exit even faster. Callie carried Quinn up the ladder and into the cabin, with Marie not far behind carrying The Captain.

They were both set on the couch, before the Squid Sisters quickly vacated the room, probably embarrassed over their reactions. Quinn worked up the energy to finally change forms again, and almost fell asleep right there.

"Ah! Wait, just a second longer, Quinn." Marie chided him as she strode back into the room.

"Shut up and let me sleep." He snarked back, but his voice was too tired to but any bite into the words.

"Good to see you too." She smirked, before handing him a few pills and a glass of water. "Pain killers. You're gonna want them, trust me. Some of our worst missions left us sore for days, and that... was a lot more than what we did."

He slowly worked the pills into his mouth, before tipping the cup towards his mouth. He surprised himself by greedily drinking the entire thing down in a matter of seconds. Marie took the cup away from him as his arm lazily fell back to the couch.

Callie emerged a moment later with similar amenities for The Captain, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. Quinn let the trio of warm voices wash over him as Callie and Marie fussed over the old man's health. His eyes fluttered shut as a small smile played across his lips. He was home.