Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Apartment 224, 724 N Cutlery Avenue, Inkopolis, Splatbay.

It was a single, unassuming address, the type of innocuous drivel that wouldn’t be out of place on a grubby package or scribbled out on a napkin, and yet, Three still had felt lightheaded as she read it over. It was absurd, almost. But, this one slip of information unraveled the whole mystery they had pondered over for so long now. So much meaning in one line of text, it held an emotional weight heavier than lead.

The message had come out of nowhere while she was out downtown for some late supper, a night to escape the stresses of the whole human debacle. But, in truth, it was also for her to do something spontaneous and fun, a little bit of actual, wholesome excitement compared to the other kind of ‘excitement’ her job held. Little wonder then that halfway through her meal, her phone blew up with calls and messages from practically every contact she had (read, the NSS).

All of them, of course, boiled down to one, triumphant, horrifying phrase that Four sent her. A quick message that truly, truly represented the absolute squitshow this had all devolved into.

“WE FOUND HIM, GET ON CALL”

Suffice to say, it put a damper on her plans for the evening. Which, in actuality meant she was out the door right after the first few messages, meal half uneaten and coins still rattling on the table as she ducked out onto the street. It was all a blur as she hurried back to her apartment, her mind mulling over everything again and again as it all sunk in, doubly so as she got the chance to go through the NSS chatlogs on the subway train back.

And with those messages, everything clicked into place.

The human that had broken her leg, this ‘Haido’, hadn’t been living in any sort of squalor, in an alleyway or the sewers. He wasn’t even living in the forests like the cryptid he was.

No, instead, this terror was living quietly in a low-end apartment, working the night shift at some Mako Mart store. At least, that was according to what Rebecca had shared in the chat. 

How many people had unknowingly interacted with this Metro-tainted Monstrosity!?

Oh, have some empathy Three!

Those naysayers may have been nothing more than the compassionate side of her, the one that tried to see the best in everyone (Yes, she did have a heart, believe it or not), but no, screw that! He caused untold collateral damage at that Dome, killed at least one person (that they knew of, who knew what he had been up to since then), and broke her leg! He was too unstable to just be left alone, never mind the very real threat he represented as a human who had been touched by whatever remained of Kamabo.

He had been in the Metro for a reason, and seeing that Kamabo was involved and already making moves, he had to be connected to it! And, she didn’t want to see what the results of his end plans were.

The more she thought about it, the more insidious his plot felt.

He must have known he could use that poor, lost girl Sally to buy himself some breathing room. Yeah, bring her back to the surface, get in good with the dad, and then get shuffled through the church through pipelines that were meant for actual victims of the Octarian regime.

The New Squidbeak Splatoon’s investigation may have hit a brick wall at the Church of Madai, but now it was blazing forward at an intense pace.

By the time Three made it back to her apartment, Marina had already dug up practically everything about him. While an address led to an apartment, that apartment would lead to the renters information, specifically a name, one easily torn from a database by Marina. And from that name and social security, his official (forged) government ID was found.

It was over, the chase was done. They had him dead to rights. 

And yes, the picture Off the Hook took earlier of him was a dead ringer. When he wasn’t being a societal, violent menace, he looked surprisingly normal, human-offness notwithstanding.

And all of this, this massive revelation was spread out over forty-five minutes of a chatlog, laid bare for all to see. Weeks of effort spent trying to track him down, all to be trumped in a few hours by a string of lucky breaks and the impressive skills one Marina Ida held with technology.

But beyond all that, the final link in that chain was Rebecca of all people; the happenstance made her head spin. It did make it all feel more like karma than anything else, though. He had displaced her from her old life, funneled her through the main channel for Octarian refugees, and soon after, he had gone down that same stream. It was only fitting one of the direct consequences of his rampage unwound his whole charade.

Happenstance to eventuality, she supposed. What went around came around.

Leaving Rebecca at the apartment after the dome crisis had been more of a mercy than anything tactical, but she had repaid that kindness back in the best way possible. And by cod did Rebecca deliver. She had sent text after text about his strange behavior, all the odd things he had bought and how the truth of it all cast his actions in a much more sinister light. The night shift, his tenuous friendship with the other tenants, all the strange purchases, it was all endlessly intriguing in the same way a murder mystery was.

An online meeting had been scrambled after Rebecca’s panicked texting (she herself was fine, just holed up in her apartment), though Three wasn’t listening too much in on it. While Marie and Four were bickering on what was to be done, with Callie and Cuttlefish trying to moderate the two, Three was half-listening with one earbud in, already slipping into her NSS gear and preparing her shooter and ink tank. She knew in her heart what plan of action would be reached, and figured there wasn’t any point in waiting for the confirmation.

Besides, even if the rest of the NSS didn’t want to do anything, she certainly would.

There was no point to dawdling. And as the sun set over the city, a consensus was reached, and it looked as if they had a human to hunt this night.

Three was glad she had grabbed the coffee, as it was going to be a long night.

…

With all the information the NSS had accrued, there was nothing left to do but hit the pavement. And under a waning moon, they hit it hard. One way or another, this nasty business with the human from the Metro would end tonight.

The Splatbay area itself was a crowded, lower-class residential district not too far away from the city’s piers, and while the city never had a big problem with crime, the area was still a bit shifty. It made it the perfect district for the Church of Madai to operate in, and no doubt that was why this human had gone to ground here. Odder things had happened than a ‘strange looking inkling’ living a quiet life, and let it not be said that Inkopolis wasn’t diverse.

To that end, when an inconspicuous blue van parked itself away from the streetlights about a block away from the human’s apartment building, it wouldn’t be seen as too suspicious. The van itself wasn’t the real danger, after all, but the passengers it contained.

And within it, under soft, internal lights of the vehicle, the agents stirred to action.

Time to get to work.

Stretching her limbs, Three extradited herself from the backseat and into the night air, carefully maneuvering her shooter and ink tank out soon after. Even with an economy sized van, transporting four people plus all their equipment and bulky weaponry was a tight fit, but they would need every little bit of it for what was to come. The van itself was another ‘project’ by Sheldon, their little ‘NSS-Mobile’ he had whipped up in the space of a few hours after he got the call about the human.

How he got a van so quickly, she would never know, but the respawner and zapfish tank he had screwed into the back trunk were sorely needed. Considering what this ‘Haido’ had done in the past with physical strength alone, it was best to not take any chances, especially to avoid taking any chances on the public respawning system. Those things were far too sparse and unreliable to be relied upon.

Regardless, the van was a definite upgrade compared to their last car, the one they had taken to the country to rescue Rebecca from that other human, the woman. The human threat was immense, but they were adapting to it, slowly but surely. Three took a small bit of pride in that, though equally, it was also a decent coping mechanism for this whole situation.

While Callie, Marie and Four got out as well, she massaged her shoulders before strapping her ink tank to her back, the extra weight still throwing her off slightly. They hadn’t gotten much of a chance to use the ink boiler systems Sheldon had developed way back when the Metro was still a concern, but for tonight, they were about to come in handy.

Virtually everything was about to come in handy tonight. Marie fished out the Neo Electromagnetic Round Flinger from the back of the van, where it had been lain over the glowing, pulsating respawner pad, and Four and Callie grabbed an ink shooter and roller respectively. Hopefully the use of Sheldon’s inventions would brighten up his day, considering it was his drone that had been seized by the police. Poor guy was holed up in his shop, having a minor mental breakdown over the threat of the authorities tracing it back to him, especially since his devices were rather… distinctive. Certainly, he was more of a goody two shoes than the rest of the NSS combined, and Three couldn’t blame him for being worried.

But, he had already done his part, and it was time for them to do theirs.

“Everyone ready?” Marie asked quietly, receiving a chorus of head nods. She would be taking command during this mission, if not for her cool head, then for the fact that she was wielding their ace in the hole. If boiling ink and physical force wouldn’t work, then a high-velocity metal slug shot from another apartment’s roof would.

The little quartet took off down the street, cradling their military grade weapons with no care for looking inconspicuous. They were already wearing hi-vis equipment, and Marina had disabled every security camera she could find on the street. Even then, they were lucky this district was a working-class residential section, rather than some studio apartment complex downtown; it was better to have no one out compared to the thriving night life closer to the inner city and plazas.

She swore they still felt too conspicuous out here, regardless. One of these days, she was going to pester Sheldon and Cuttlefish about that, get something in matte-black. Perhaps a bit too reminiscent of her goth phase, but sometimes functionality and pragmaticism were worth it, at least for these night missions. The way it was right now, she still felt too exposed out here, there was a reason they didn’t tend to do this type of thing.

The hi-vis schtick tended to work better as camouflage within the bright ink colors, rather than these night ops.

It was an unavoidable fact that this whole operation was risky, and ordinarily, they wouldn’t be so reckless when it came to an operation within the city, doubly so in a location with so many people. But, this human was unpredictable and dangerous, and at this moment, they had the unequivocal element of surprise on their side; if they could break in, overwhelm him before he even knew what was happening and detain him, they win.

It hadn’t been an easy decision to do this, essentially breaking into someone’s apartment to kidnap them, no one here was unaware of the risks and ethical issues involved, but really, what else could be done?

What else was there to be done? That persistent, damned phrase again; Three would be happy once this grey situation was done with.

None of them spoke, for there wasn’t anything to speak about. The night was cold, and it felt surreal to be out in this desolate street in these twilight hours before the morning.

This silence persisted, even after Marie had split away to scale up to the opposing building’s roof. Callie split off too, positioning herself in the alleyway under his apartment window while Three and Four entered the little antechamber to the apartment complex, crowded in the small room with their weapons tightly pressed against themselves. Normally, they would have needed a resident key card to get in, but thankfully they had someone on the inside, both literally and figuratively. And that person was on the other side of the door in the apartment lobby, shivering in her pajama bottoms, tennis shoes, pale blue coat, and a backpack slung over her shoulders.

Rebecca let them into the lobby without a sound, only giving a muttered ‘thank you’ as she shuffled past them, and then walking down the street to the parked van. Best to get her out of here before things got ugly, and she had already played her part in all of this.

Potentially, she had been the most important part in all of this. Rebecca had been a surprising font of information about the human and his ‘habits’. Namely, she rarely saw him as he was working the night shift somewhere (tonight was one of his nights off though, and she had confirmed he was still in his apartment), and whenever she saw him during the day, it was either on the roof talking to one of his friends, one ‘Vista’, or him just going out at odd afternoon hours.

Though, ‘Vista’, wasn’t that a major coincidence? Out of everywhere Three had expected Eight to vanish to, she never would have expected it to be a place like this.

They had removed Eight from their more secure group chats a little while back due to security concerns, and it looks like that precaution may have paid off. Still, why would Eight be hanging out here with a human? Or, no, not just hanging out with, actively colluding with!

Or, that assumed this was actually Eight, and not some other Octoling named Vista, but these coincidences were piling up too high. If Rebecca had been the human’s neighbor, what was stopping their Vista from doing the same?

Hopefully they wouldn’t need to find out. To that end, while Four stayed in the lobby in the event he tried to run off, they ascended the gruffy stairwell of the apartment building, and found his apartment’s door. The net was laid, there was no way he could get out without them at least spotting them.

  …

But, it was when they had trouble with his apartment door that Three began to realize this mission may not be so simple after all.

It was straightforward enough to snag a managerial keyring from the Apartment’s back-office (With technical support from Marina to disable any electronic security systems), and while the master key did indeed work on Haido’s door, it still refused to budge an inch, not even providing a large enough gap to slip through. He must have put a deadbolt system or two of his own in place; annoying, but not entirely unexpected.

She hoped his preparations ended there, though somehow, she doubted that.

Still, a deadbolt did provide a bit of an issue; they were on the second floor, so slipping through a window would be more trouble than it was worth. The door itself was rather flimsy, but breaking it down would create too much noise, and this was supposed to be a quiet operation. She had hoped the door crack may have been large enough to slip under in her swim form, much like any other secured door in this city, a plastic stopper had been laid under it.

This was all starting to vex her. She had only broken into Domes in the past, not apartment buildings, give her a break!

She needed to try another angle. The vents, perhaps? They would be smaller in a building like this, but still doable with enough effort. Doors could be locked, but ventilation had to stay open, though as she gave it more thought, she realized that too was infeasible. This building was old, but it did look to be up to regulation, and regulations required the vent systems be unable to be traversed by Inklings in their swim form; Too many fatalities and incidents from some daredevils and younger kids falling into them.

“What’s the holdup?” her earpiece crackled, Marie’s voice holding an edge of annoyance, “You said you would be in by now.”

Three let out a short growl, whispering angrily into her headpiece, “Working on it, the door is too reinforced, and I doubt the vents will be any help. Any ideas?”

She could hear Marie muttering to herself over the line for a minute, new ideas discarded as quickly as they came up. Eventually, a tinny sigh came over the comms, “Maybe we’re asking the wrong questions? If you were him, how would you defend yourself? And what would you overlook?”

Right, sniper. A good deal of a charger user’s job was this sort of thing, baiting and predicting their enemies, ambushing them at just the right time and laying out killzones.

They were facing a human, not oceanic life, they needed to think like him. Or more importantly, what he wouldn’t think to anticipate.

…

Three found herself outside the front of his apartment, right under his window. Second story it was, but with a few rapid fire globs of ink from her weapon, a path was painted up the wall right to the window. This wouldn’t have worked on a newer building with proper ink-proofing, but she supposed such things were a low priority for whoever owned this building. Not that she was complaining, of course.

Though, it did highlight just how hot the ink from her ink boiler tank really was, however. Steam was rising off the wall, the ink itself becoming viscous and off color as it quickly cooled in the night air.

“You really think that’s safe?” Callie asked, leaning against her roller, “Hopefully it doesn’t burn you on your way up.”

“I’ll just… give it a minute.”

While she tried to play it off, it was a legitimate concern, especially if they needed to use it against the human. It hadn’t entirely occurred to her before just now, but Callie was right. She just couldn’t put down a fine coat and then immediately dive into it, which might be a genuine issue if she had to face the human. Experience told her that speed and distance would be key here, especially if he couldn’t be incapacitated immediately.

Then again, they were going to be fighting in a cramped apartment, one much like her old one when she had first arrived in Inkopolis. That got a small laugh out of her, thinking back to those simpler times.

The point being, the ink boiler was rather crude, but it would do for what they needed, and it looked like the ink trail she had left had cooled off enough.

Three dove in, swimming up the surface. Even after having time to cool off, the ink was still uncomfortably warm, like an overheated hot tub filled with molasses. Regardless, she was right up to the window, where she perched on its little ledge. The room on the other end was dark, but thankfully, the window was actually slid open, the only thing keeping her out being a fine mesh meant to keep out the insects. An odd smell was wafting out, however, and she could hear the constant hum of a fan from within.

Three slipped easily through the mesh in her swim form, and as soon as her eyes adjusted to the darker conditions, she finally got a good luck of the interior.

The place was a small apartment, modest, yet was quite decent for a single person. It was clean, for one, shockingly so, with swept, hardwood floors, but barely any furniture at all. A dining table was set against one wall with two chairs, the table strewn with a variety of materials and tools Three couldn’t make any sense of. And yet, it was far from barren.

There were other materials stacked up haphazardly against the wall, and a plastic sheet lain on the ground around the kitchen and living room area. More tools, fertilizers, pipes, and a number of other things were laid around neatly, sorted quite well. She spotted the fan she had heard, a heavy device that was pushing the fumes out of the window.

It utterly stumped her, just what was he up to here? It felt more like a laboratory than anything else, but what did he need this stuff for? Gardening? Why else would he have all that fertilizer and other gardening implements and tools?

Putting that out of mind for now, she walked over to the other end of the room, where the entrance to the apartment was. Despite there being a very nice mat with ‘Welcome!’ embroidered on it, the several deadbolts screwed into the door ran quite contrary. She undid each one with more than a little venom. For such small bits of metal, they had caused her more than their fair share of grief.

“Get up here Four,” she whispered into her earpiece, “I got the door.”

…

“Maybe he has some recording gig?” Four whispered with a nervous chuckle, but it was devoid of any sort of humor. Regardless, Three slashed a finger across her throat, shushing her. She needed backup as she swept through the rest of the place, not to have Four’s blabbering give them away.

Though, that may not be much of an issue considering the walls. They had been covered in soundproofing foam, specifically against the walls adjacent to the neighbor’s apartment and the outer hallway. She had no idea why he would even bother with them, but it would make their job easier if they didn’t need to worry as much about the neighbors.

The kitchen wasn’t much better, with barely any plates or cutlery at all, just a lot of cleaning supplies under the sink and a surprising amount of frozen food in the freezer. It was all very utilitarian, all things concerned.

“Oh, that’s just sad,” Four whispered, the ghost of a joke in her voice. It didn’t really land though, especially since the freezer contents were shockingly similar to her own.

And, depressing, almost. Three didn’t quite know, but part of her had been hoping to see what an average human home looked like. A massive threat he was, but by all metrics he seemed to have been laying low, maybe a part of her had been hoping she wouldn’t find something like… this. Some of it, like the kitchen, were quite familiar to her, but then not even five feet away was all the other equipment and the soundproofing; it was achingly relatable in some aspects, but she couldn’t ignore the obvious signs that he was a threat waiting to explode.

Sure, she hated him due to everything he had done back at the dome, but she had at least hoped that one of their forebearers would have been a bit more peaceful.

The bathroom wasn’t much better; sure, it was clean, but she found a large kitchen knife of all things taped to the shower ceiling. Nothing in the toilet reservoir thankfully, though was an alarming amount of toiletries, makeup, and a very small little paring knife and scissors on the sink. Probably some sort of disguise kit, if she had to guess. Scissors could have been used on hair, perhaps? Was the knife in the shower also used for hair?

So what if she didn’t quite know? The only hair she had ever seen was on Judd, and she had no idea how he stayed groomed.

Her earpiece came to life once more, Marie’s voice coming through, “A window opened, I think it was the one in his bedroom, but I don’t know. I couldn’t tell if it was him. Proceed cautiously.”

Oh shoot.

While Three felt that familiar spike of apprehension surge through her, Four signaled her over to a flimsy door opposite of the bathroom.

“Bedroom,” Four mouthed, miming opening the door. He was only a scant few feet away. Tersely, Three nodded, bringing her own weapon into position. The quiet hum of the boiler was surprisingly comforting. It was time, they were really doing this, weren’t they?

This all ended tonight, and she didn’t care how.

…

The knob turned silently, far too easily as the door swung into the darkened room.

And just like that, Three and Four stormed in, shooters raised and triggers caressed. It was a moment of adrenaline, the two scoping out the room in an instant. But, they only reached one conclusion.

Nothing.

Their flashlights illuminated the small space easily, but, no human.

Confused, they lowered their weapons, looking around confused as the adrenaline high wore off. Just… focus, use your eyes.

It was definitely a bedroom, something Three would have called the ‘peak male living space’. At least some things remained consistent between cultures. For being such a space though, it was tidy like everything else in this apartment.

Three fumbled for a light switch on the wall, and the little bulb illuminated the room in a weak light.

The mattress was off to one side, wedged into a corner, while a number of plastic bins and cardboard boxes were piled in another corner, filled with clothing, tools, and lots of miscellaneous materials. Some of it looked a bit pricy too, how could he afford that on a grocer’s wage? Not that she was one to talk, considering her own skills with balancing the old checkbook, but that was irrelevant to this all.

The mattress though, it was a mess of blankets and pillows all tangled and thrown together. A quick handover revealed it to still be quite warm, too warm for an inkling, as if someone had been laying there recently. Good to know, good to know…

Doubly so, as the room itself was rather chilly, seeing that the other apartment window was open, just like Marie had said. She stuck her head out the window, which led to the empty street.

“Confirmed,” she breathed into her microphone, “His window’s opened, but he isn’t anywhere here. Did you see him leave?”

“Negative, he has to still be in the apartment.”

But, where? She couldn’t see anywhere else to where he could have gone; it was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Three messaged one of her temples, another groan of apprehension escaping her. This nightmare was never going to end…

While Three left to check over the apartment again, Four remained in the bedroom, poking around some of the boxes.

She was far from a fashionista, but this human could have a far better wardrobe; virtually everything had to be from a thrift store. Or bought on clearance, she really couldn’t tell. Maybe it was a minor thing to take notice of, considering the amount of power tools and rolls of plastics and foams, but it couldn’t help but soften his image slightly, at least in her eyes.

Monster he may have been, but seeing this all reminded her that there was more to him than just that. It was a stark reminder that he was sapient, that he thought, had some likes, dislikes, and if nothing else, was able to function in wider society enough to purchase all this stuff, and that he could work a job to get that money. Shell, even with Rebecca having reported him, she hadn’t really had much bad to say about being his next door neighbor. At worst, he had just been a bit shifty and maybe a bit too quiet.

If it wasn’t for that freak stealing her groceries all that time ago, she’d probably be more sympathetic. But, such was the nature of this work; there weren’t any true black and whites, only greys.

Well, a grey only a few shades away from black, at least. It was surprising how easy it had been to justify breaking and entering to herself.

Or, maybe not so much, actually. She still remembered meeting him in the flesh, way down in the Metro while Sally had been lost. Sure, he had been an absolute ass, but for someone who was dangerous, she… honestly wasn’t quite sure. The teenager seemed to trust him, if nothing else, and even now, was doing shockingly well considering the circumstances she had been through. Not quite back in school, but still in therapy and not an utter wreck, at least according to Cuttlefish. He was still checking in from time to time, and everything regarding her was very promising.

But, that was unrelated to this mission.

She could hear Three digging around the kitchen, muttering nothings to herself amongst clinkering cutlery.. Must have been some interesting stuff to keep her attention like that, or maybe disturbing? Four got up to see what was up, but as she turned to the door, she caught a glimmer of dull wood.

It was a closed, second door next to the bedroom entrance, more of a utility door than a proper closet. It blended in quite well, painted the same color as the wall, little wonder they missed it earlier.

Four could feel the pit of her stomach drop at seeing the knob, an intense aura of danger emanating from the frame. Was it her imagination, or something actually tangible?

She had to know. What were the odds, right? If he was in there, he would have already ambushed her, right?

With great trepidation, Four gently opened the door-

-And it pushed against her as the door opened, her having no time to comprehend as she was forced back as the human emerged from the closet, far too suddenly and smoothly for a mortal creature. In stark bright of the light, his face was a demonic mask, twisted by a vicious mixture of emotions. His mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.

Anger and fear, like water and oil. When words finally did come out, they were a ghost of a whisper.

“Just leave, please. Don’t make me do this.” Pleading, yet furious. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything else. She couldn’t quite believe it.

But then, she saw what he was holding, pointed straight at her head. Four, in recent times, had become very familiar with the hallmarks of human weaponry, and the compact little number in his hands certainly met the criteria.

That realization was enough to break her out of her paralysis.

She screamed, and then burned like the brightest star.

Padded as the walls were, Three was still able to hear a muffled scream, quickly cut off by a muted snap. There had been a delirious, disconnected moment where she was confused, but her eyes widened as she realized exactly what had just happened. Her head shot up, weapon already raised as she looked apprehensively down the hallway.

The human in the bedroom with the gun, that was the cause.

“Four? Four!” Callie had spoken over the earpiece, “You there?”

The response was near immediate.

“Bedroom, bedroom,” Four gurgled, as if she were choking on ink. Likely she had just reformed in the respawner, “Get him!”

Three nodded to herself, cautiously approaching the entrance, the ink tank on her back near scalding. But, she paused as Callie shot up to the apartment, crawling through the window. Without any hesitation, she charged down the hallway, roller held aloft, a rare anger animating her form.

It was enough to galvanize Three into action, following behind Callie to provide backup. The bedroom was a few steps away, and Three got a clear view into the once quiet room, now thrown into chaos.

What remained of Four was spread out over the floor. Three knew that she was already reforming in the respawner, but the idea of what could have happened without it was a distinctly terrifying one.

More terrifying, however, was Callie.

She had charged forward into the bedroom, but had forgotten several things in her raw zeal. Primarily, her roller had lodged itself into the doorframe, having been unable to fit through the cramped doorframe, but that wasn’t enough to deter Callie. A rare display of hotheaded rage had overcome her, and through the jammed door, Three watched it all unfold in growing horror. Callie was strong, yes, but this was the same human who just reduced Four to a paste, even if he did look out of it.

It was the first real look she had gotten of him since the Dome, but in the madness of the fight, she only caught sight of his pale face and unkempt hair. And then, Callie was on him.

In that instant, the two connected, and Callie threw the first punch, her other fist clutching a burst bomb. The first hit connected squarely with his jaw, staggering him as Callie chucked the burst bomb straight into his chest. He had already been dazed, and that was enough to slam him against the bedroom wall, cracking the drywall some. Between Callie’s athletic career as an idol and her use of a roller, she was actually quite strong for her size, and Three was happy she wasn’t at the other end of that combination.

A quick sense of hope overcame her previous doubts, were they about to get him down?

“Shoot him!” Callie yelled, ducking out of the way as she did so. But, that was where everything started going wrong. Between her still being within the line of fire due to the weapon spread and her angles being cut off by the roller lodged in the door, Three wasn’t able to fire in time. By the time she wretched her shooter around the roller to get a proper angle, the human had shaken himself out of his stupor.

For a brief moment, time froze as she finally got a decent look at the human. He was a lanky thing, almost ghoulish in the stark light. It only accentuated his wrongness as he looked at her incredulously, an oblong pistol in his hands. For Three, however, the surrealness of it all brought back some very unpleasant memories. The last time she had seen him in the flesh, she had condemned him to the Metro, though at the time she had been shooting to kill.

Death via bullet or the Metro, what was the difference at the end of the day?

He loomed over Callie, who was still getting back to her feet after her impromptu roll. Far faster than he had any right to, he threw a sloppy, if brutal punch of his own at her head. She was able to redirect it at the last moment, but it left her open to a vicious kick to her leg, which took her down. Another firm kick to her stomach, and Callie was stuck wheezing for breath on the floor as Haido turned to address the rest of them.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he sputtered after a moment, incredulous, as if he was chastising her for taking the wrong turn down a hallway. As if he wasn’t covered in the ink that had been Four, and with Callie at his feet.

The sheer audacity stupefied her. But, he was human, was she really expecting civility?

He took a step forward, eying her with an odd, pleading contempt, little crude pistol still pointed squarely at her chest, “Just go, please.”

Three, for her part, gnashed her teeth as she pointed her own shooter at him. Her answer was swift, a rapid fire blast of boiling ink from her weapon aimed squarely at his torso. No niceties or talk, just straight to the point. So much could have been averted had she and Four had just decided to shoot first, and if he wasn’t going to, then by cod, she would.

Much to her initial delight, the ink struck home, the scalding fluid hitting him in the chest and arms. Said delight morphed into something a bit more sour as his eyes widened, and he let out a short yelp as it splashed a bit onto his face… which wasn’t nearly screaming enough considering that he should have been on the floor, writhing in pain.

…A small part of her mind did realize that yes, the weapon she was using was truly horrific. It was a small seed of guilt, but one that she suppressed easily enough. Once again, the ends justified the means; an incapacitated human was who knew how many lives saved. Still though, ethics aside, those screams shouldn’t have been enough for someone covered in boiling liquid. Three had seen burn victims back in the hospital when her leg had been broken, and some of those had been rather brutal.

“The fuck!?” he yelled, batting at the orange, steaming ink on his clothing. He sounded pained, but not ‘third degree burns on most of his body’ pained. How was he still standing!? He should have been in hysterics, rolling on the ground in agony!

It was only then she finally deciphered what exactly he was wearing. It was patchy and scuffed, but the grey of that strange suit he had always worn was unmistakable, that same ink proof and presumably heat resistant equipment which made him a menace back at the dome.

Squit.

Out of everything, however, it didn’t seem to blunt the kinetic force behind each shot of ink, as it had been enough to push him back to the bedroom, dangerously close to the window. Marie had her target, and her weapon actually could do something more than just paint him teal.

Though that was a bad analogy. Marie’s shooter could paint him a deep crimson, and she was ready to pick up her brush.

“Firing!” her earpiece roared, and a muted ‘snap!’ tore the air.

Even at a lower velocity to account for penetration (an issue that Marie kept running into during the weapon’s testing), the shot hit its mark near immediately. Or, at least Three thought it did, as the human jerked forward like a shook puppet, a brief gasp of pain escaping him. Even with the slug propelled via weak magnetic force, it should have been more than enough to kill him, so why was he still standing?

He had ducked out of sight of the window and nursed his shoulder with the opposite hand, those pain-filled, confused eyes of his were locked on the wall behind Three. She couldn’t help but follow his gaze, everything slowing down for a moment as reality sunk back in.

A nasty puncture had been punched through the drywall, revealing the brick behind. Said bricks were cracked, a small sliver of metal firmly embedded into the masonry. He definitely was not getting his security deposit back.

From her position just by the doorframe, Three had a perfect view of the shock and genuine fear that was slathered over his face, a sort of mortal understanding that he was truly vulnerable. Then, his eyes locked onto hers, the previous rage gone, replaced with animalistic, adrenaline-fueled madness.

This wasn’t some cruel, angry human anymore, one intent on slaughtering who he could. Now, that person had been replaced by a fearful animal, one willing to do anything to stave off its inevitable death.

Three could barely parse that thought before the human lunged at her, the white of his eyes falling over her as she was tackled into the hallway. He was a flailing mess of limbs, stumbling like a drunk as he tried to dislodge himself from her and get back to his feet. Even then, Three was able to grab onto his injured shoulder, jamming her fingers into the tear that the shot had left there. Judging by his yowl of pain, even if it had only nicked him, it had still left quite the mark.

An errant fist struck her face, a sudden, blooming pain that had her seeing stars. The weight pinning her quickly dissipated, but Three blindly clawed after him, grasping his retreating leg. He stumbled, and for that brief moment Three felt a spike of victory.

“Get off me!”

To match her face, pain erupted across her arms as he kicked at her legs with his free foot, but, it wouldn’t be enough to stop Three. One way or another, this ended tonight, and at this point, she didn’t care about the pain she would have to go through.

Even then, he was still quite stronger than her. While she persistently held on, he dragged himself further down the hallway, but then into the bathroom. He was close to the shower, trying to reach the ceiling above the spigot. She was fumbling with her shooter, trying to get it to the right angle to fire through the dazing pain, another spike hit her cheek.

His boot, she realized dully. It had been enough to dislodge her grip on him, and she fell back onto the hallway. Instinctually, she shimmied back a little further into the hallway, trying to blink the spots out of her eyes. Through it, she could see the human looming above her, a glittering knife held up in the half-light of the hallway. But, Three was able to finally bring her shooter to bear and fired off another rapid salvo aimed right at his face. Haido had enough sense to cover his face with both arms, ducking under the torrent as he blindly tried to shove his way past her prone form.

Right to the living room, she realized with a bit of horror. If he was able to slip past her, she had no doubt that he would be able to get past Four and Callie too, and from there, slip into another dark corner in the city. The stars had aligned for them to even find him here, and she had a feeling lightning wouldn’t strike the same spot twice.

It would only take her a moment to recover, but he would be gone in a moment. She gnashed her teeth, but then the unexpected happened.

Haido let out a string of curses, then another grunt of pain as he crashed to the floor. Another two pairs of footfalls thudded around him.

“Forget about us?” Callie asked, another rare, biting tone infesting her speech, “You really shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, you tell him!” Four bleated, her own boiler shooter pointed straight at his head, “You’re surrounded Haido, give up.”

He sat up, catching his breath and nursing a bloody forehead. Three, meanwhile, was able to get back to her feet, a bit unsteady, but on her feet nonetheless. She joined her fellow agents, holding Haido at gunpoint alongside Four and Callie.

For his part, he fell back slightly, back pinned against his short little couch. Curiously, he laughed a little.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got me,” he rasped, voice far too quiet, “Have to say, didn’t expect you all to come by so soon, thought I had more time…”

A hand had fallen limp to his side, but then went under the couch.

“…But, did you really have to barge into my home like this? You could have just knocked.”

Three glared him down, him cringing slightly at her expression.

“Like you gave us a choice,” she spat, “We know what you want to do.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-“

Far quicker than he had any right to, his arm flung out from under the couch, chucking something right at Three. It was a heavy little cylinder, one that knocked the wind out of her chest and then fell to the floor with a ‘clunk’.

For a brief moment, all three of them stared incredulously at it as it sat on the ground. Haido ducked to the ground, eyes shut and hands over his ears.

And then, her world exploded.

Even with the slapdash construction of the flashbang, and even with having covered his ears, Haido’s eardrums still hummed in protest from the blast. It had been far too long since he had actually been hit by a flashbang, and this one had gone off near his head. He was getting soft, but he at least knew what to have expected.

That said, the effect on someone wholly unsuspecting it was far worse, as evidenced by the three home intruders who were now strewn out across the floor, clutching their ears and convulsing on his carpet. Out of all three of them, however, Three was already staggering back to her feet, one hand on her ear and the other on her shooter, still blinking her eyes like she had gotten a fistful of dust caught in them.

Of course, she would be the least affected… it was only fitting that his ‘nemesis’ was still up.

Still, ‘up’ in the sense that she was on her feet and not writhing on the floor like the others. It was easy enough to shove her back down, but she was already recovering from the flashbang, as were her comrades.

Hopping over the two bodies on the floor, he quietly strode to a blank patch of drywall, no different than any other. Checking over his shoulder one last time, he saw that Three was already on her feet, even if her shooter was still shaking far too much to be stable. That, he knew, would not be the case in a few precious moments.

It was now or never. She was screaming, he was screaming.

And he punched into the drywall, an incredibly thin façade concealing his last ditch plan. While it splintered and cracked around his hands, he grasped the long, thin item on the other end and pulled. The rest of the façade shattered to the ground as he wretched it out.

And not a moment too soon. Three had recovered her aim, and that terrifying ‘rat-a-tat’ of (definitely illegal) boiling ink was already flying his way. The first few shots hit his torso as he dove out of the way, one almost hitting him clear in the face. He winced at that; he could feel the heat of the liquid through the ERA, and it wouldn’t be long before the heat got through and cooked him through.

With that dive though, he had brought the thin device to the crook of his shoulder, finger sliding into the trigger well and tensing as he dove into. The barrel was pointed squarely at his three guests, and a moment was all he needed.

Bang!

The pipe shotgun thrummed unsteadily, falling out of his grasp as he finished his dive into the kitchen. He was dazed for a moment, the unyielding tile having done little to cushion his fall. His ears were still ringing from the sharp blast of gunpowder, but everything had fallen silent.

Peering over the kitchen table, he saw the ink that had been the three agents, their gear and bodies missing. It had been a rushed, hurried shot with a low powered shell full of rubber bits, but it seemed enough to do them in. Even then, his couch and wall were now shredded, though there didn’t look to be any excessive penetration, a small silver lining to all of this.

Limbs numb, he got up and closed the window, thumbing the lock shut with bone-deep weariness.

…

As the adrenaline wore down, several things became apparent to him.

For one, he was aching all over and suppressing a headache, something that kept his eyes from completely focusing. His apartment was shredded apart from the fighting, and turning on the light in the main room only confirmed that.

Most importantly, however, he realized he was completely, irrevocably fucked.

And not just the regular, run of the mill ‘fucked’. He was Fucked with a capital ‘F’, the type of Fucked a bankrupt gambler may be, or Great Uncle when several Three Letter Agencies had begun sniffing around his business.

And this was an apartment, not a house! He had neighbors! And he had just had a loud scuffle in this apartment. They had been stomping and screaming and banging around. He had been forced to use his impromptu ‘Shinzo Abe Special’ to get the drop on that agent who opened the closet, then his flashbang and jury-rigged pipe shotgun, and those things were the opposite of quiet!

It may have only lasted a minute or two, but those were cats that couldn’t be put back into the bag.

He needed to get away, get away and regroup with his Plan D. The apartment was compromised now, and there was nothing to do but fall back.

He popped back the breach of his pipe shotgun, ejecting the empty shell and loading a fresh one. It was a comforting action, but one that did little to soothe him. Rebecca must have gotten them the address after all. She had sworn she hadn’t given him up to Vista, but that apparently hadn’t been the case.

Still, he couldn’t find it in his heart to hold it against her. The agents, though…?

He looked at what remained of the agent girl, a patch of pink ink on his nice hardwood floor, which was now heavily scuffed and pock-marked. He had kept the gunpowder minimal and was utilizing cut up rubber ‘balls’ to avoid total penetration of whatever he shot at, but he wasn’t expecting it to be enough to actually kill her.

Or, sorry, ‘splat’ her, as the kids liked to say. That helped assuage his guilt some, doubly so considering that they probably had a respawner around here somewhere. He doubted even those agents would be stupid enough to try and raid him without one.

They knew what he was capable of, and he took a fair bit of pride in that. Said pride, of course, evaporated far too quickly compared to the intrinsic guilt he felt from blowing them away, even if he knew that logically, they had just been sent back to some respawner. 

He stormed out the door, shotgun under his arm and a coat slung over his shoulder, a few shells in the coat pocket. His phone was in his hand as he typed out a text message furiously.

Ultimately, this whole situation was untenable, and even if he wanted to stay and defend the apartment, there wasn’t any point.

He could keep the agents at bay, but with their respawner, they would just keep coming, and he only had so much energy. Already, he was feeling shaky, and the agents still had a lot more to give, plus their numbers advantage. Holding the apartment itself was going to be impossible, so it would be better to retreat for now.

Nevermind the whole noise and ‘this being a populated apartment building’ issue. He had at most three minutes before anyone would really come out in force, and he had already spent more than a little of that time standing around like an idiot.

The agents may have had reserves, but he had allies too, ones beyond Vista. And, this was ultimately his fight, not hers. He needed to get out of here first and foremost, there wasn’t enough time to get her involved.

Of course, he had planned for this scenario, and he was marching resolutely towards the edge of the hall, where the fire escape was. Inkling city codes were quite strange, and in this particular case, fire escapes were more of a suggestion rather than anything properly regulated. In this case, for a cheap apartment building that was also acting as a hideout, there was only one main fire escape located on each floor.

From a safety standpoint, it was atrocious, and for his purpose of escape, it was an easy chokepoint for the agents to cut him off. That, of course, was assuming they knew of it in the first place. They were amateurs at this whole thing, he could tell. They were unbelievably sloppy, to where he had been able to get away from them despite being caught off guard.

Slip out of the fire escape, vanish into the city, and execute plan D. This was all going to go hot now, and he would need to improvise. But hey, he had been doing that ever since he woke from his crypt, this wasn’t new.

…

Well, he would need to improvise a bit more, it seemed, as his text hadn’t gone through. His wireless signal was gone, as was his wi-fi connection; they had to have someone playing telecom interference for them. Probably that one Octoling Vista had told him about, the same one who had gotten his picture.

He wrenched open the small fire escape door, barely registering the cool night air as his heart rate picked up. His small bit of respite was over now, and it was time for another sprint, hopefully to safety.

Keeping the pipe shotgun to his side, he began heading along the small catwalk, right to where the ladder to the alleyway ground stood. It was wound up tight and secured, and so he got to working the old mechanism.

It was a stubborn old beast, and it was costing him too much time, especially as he saw a silhouette enter the alleyway. Their hi-vis equipment and LED lighting certainly made them easy to spot out, and that looked an awful lot like Three. His heart rate spiked as he worked with the mechanism much faster. She would see him in a moment, and the apartment building wasn’t an option anymore.

Briefly, he considered just jumping off the escape to the ground, but it was still too far of a drop to safely do. If he hurt his ankle and couldn’t run, it was game over for him.

“C’mon, c’mon…” he whispered, begging the mechanism to just give up the ladder and let it drop. He was already envisioning his next moves as soon as he got down; shoot the agent and run, improvise from there.

But, he was already out of time. That LED outlined head glanced up to him, and he felt her gaze sweep over him like a cold breeze. That same shooter rose up, steam curling from the barrel as Three shouted something to the effect of ‘stay still!’

He yelped, jumping out of the way as Three sprayed boiling ink up at him, the power behind the shooter enough to lob it up at him. He backpedaled rapidly, the corrugated fire escape offering no cover from the liquid. He fumbled to bring his pipe shotgun to bear, trying to get the best angle through the slats. She was on him far too close, forcing him onto the backfoot.

He was running out of time, so he fired blindly through the foot slats, the barrel nearly jammed through it. It may have been an inaccurate shot, but Three fell back, a surprised screech escaping her from the sudden assault. She had briefly disappeared into her quickly cooling ink, the rubber balls in the shotgun bouncing obscenely through the alleyway as they lost their killing kinetic energy.

The breach of his shotgun snapped open, letting him quickly load a fresh shell. It snapped shut with a satisfying click, and he dove back to the ladder working the mechanism. The damn thing was stuck, and for a moment, he considered shooting the mechanism. But, he held back, moreso because he knew the shells weren’t nearly strong enough to actually break it open.

His head whipped back up, checking the alley. It remained bare, but the dumpster in the alleyway would have been the perfect (and only) cover in the place.

As if to confirm his suspicions, Three’s voice rang out from behind it, “Drop the gun and give it up, Haido.”

Even after all of this, she was still trying to get him to surrender? Not a chance.

“You know that’s not an option for me,” he called back, keeping an eye on that dumpster. His hands were starting to ache from trying to get the latch dislodged, even through his gloves, “This is something I can’t afford.”

A small silence stretched out, but she called out once more soon after, an odd note in her voice, “Hey, Haido?”

He looked up from the stubborn device.

“Yeah?”

“You won’t see it coming.”

Haido swore he saw a bit of movement on the roof of another building, and a brief, reflective wink of light. It briefly gave him pause, which unknowingly saved his life.

The slug that would have taken his head off instead flew mere centimeters past his ear. He swore it grazed his hair, but that was only after he heard the shot impact somewhere behind him.

He felt his heart leap into his throat, instinctively diving for whatever darkened, meager cover he could find.

But, there was nowhere to hide while he was so exposed on the fire escape. He flattened himself against the wall, kneeling down.

He flinched as another round flew far too close to comfort in the dark. Now they were taking potshots, great. They were trying to flush him out, and he had no doubt that whoever the NSS had hired was a decent enough marksman (markswoman?), especially in this hyper-militarized society they called a sport. And they thought HE was crazy…

Cursing to himself, he ducked into the little antechamber between the fire escape and the apartment hallway, taking a moment to catch his breath.

The fire escape itself was a bust, and his time was up now. He could hear shuffling from the inner hallway, no doubt some of the residents having been woken up by the scuffle.

He sighed, bracing himself as he went back into the hallway, shotgun flattened against his side to try and conceal it. With one last gasp of steadying air, he plunged back in, walking with pained purpose.

A number of crustaceans, Inklings, and even a narwhal were milling around outside the apartment, chattering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Seeing so many folks in their nightwear out here at this hour, it still felt more normal than the events of the past fifteen minutes.

He caught a few eyes as he stormed past them, not that he cared. He only cared about finding one particular Octoling, and he spotted her just exiting her apartment, splattershot in hand and still wearing her pajamas.

Their eyes briefly met, a hidden understanding passing between them as they came face to face.

“Morning Vista,” he greeted as cheerfully as he could, his voice pained, “hopefully I didn’t make too much noise?”

Vista herself had always struck Haido as a rather stoic individual, but even she was off-balance, an eyebrow raised at him as he approached. Already anticipating her question, he opened his apartment door so she could have a good look.

“I-… you-“ she peeked past him into the open apartment, and the messed up, battered kitchen, hole in the wall, and ink everywhere, “Did they-?”

“Yeah, I had some unexpected houseguests,” he sighed, the dark keeping anyone from getting a good enough look at his equipment. For now, he was incognito, “My microwave malfunctioned and exploded, so I hope that bang didn’t wake anyone up.”

She was still staring at the utter chaos his apartment had been thrown into, somewhat transfixed.

He sighed to himself, cutting straight to the point, “Have you called the police?”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to, my phone has no signal, and the internet isn’t working. Marina’s running interference, I bet.”

He continually found himself flummoxed by the support this seemingly small militia operation had, but he had no choice but to roll with it. Still, he could work with this.

“Stay inside then, I’m ending this.”

“And by that, you mean?”

“I don’t know anymore, Vista. I just want this done with.”

In truth, it was something he hadn’t really considered. His preparations for an apartment raid had been more borne out of paranoia than anything else, and he hadn’t really planned much else out beyond the initial expulsion, with a lot of it more focused on amassing supplies for an eventual trip back to Polaris. What was he supposed to do now? They had respawners, and even if they didn’t, he really, really, really didn’t want to kill anyone, both for moral and practical reasons.

He had hoped it would never come to this.

It was… just shit. They knew where he lived now, and from there, it would be laughably easy for them to get all of his personal information now. And past that, it was over for him. Considering their connections to people in high places and his own fragile position, they would only need to leak his existence to the world, and there went everything he was working for.

He couldn’t just hack and slash his way out of this problem, and he was all out of options to escape now. One way or another, it really would end here for him. Were negotiations even possible at this point? There wasn’t any doubt in his mind a ‘surrender’ would be horrible for him here. If this was Great Uncle’s group, they would just cap him right after he put down the gun.

But, what choice did he have here?

She hummed, a look of introspection on her face, “Well, the way I see it, you’re caught. Haido, maybe it’s time you just tried to parley with them?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

It wasn’t that Haido hated the idea of peace and not continuing this slugfest of a night, but again, what choice did he have? There was no hope of sitting down and singing Kumbaya; they held most of the power here, and there was no way they were going to play nice with him.

But, he really didn’t want to have to start over again either.

“I’m not,” Vista said, growing a bit more serious, “Look, I get it, the NSS can really be a pack of asses from time to time, believe me, I left for a reason. But, they’re not these evil boogeymen, and quite frankly, it’s the only option we have left. Maybe it’s a bit too late, but we need to at least try.”

“You mean I need to try.”

Vista sighed again, “No, in this case, we. It’s about time I stopped running too. I’ve been putting this off for too long, and considering the circumstances, I need to get this done with too.”