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Fall came as it always does, gentle and slow, like the first leaf falling on a warm day. August's warmth passed along to September's hesitant chill, as the leaves shuddered and curled. Autumn was Alice's favourite season—it represented change, the precipice of potential and new beginnings. The air always smelt of cinnamon sugar and pumpkin spice, and the sweet crunch of leaves walked with her as she made her way through campus each morning.
Today, though, the leaves accompanied her feet to a different haunt: the Cuttlefish Cabin.
It'd been a long while since she'd last been at the Cabin. Alice, Agent Four of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, was nothing but a reserve Agent. She had been since she'd joined, to focus on her education and furthering her career. Operations simply weren't active or demanding enough to require more than three active agents and their captain at a time, anyway. Even after the former Agent Three became the new Captain.
So, along with the crunching leaves, a different thing accompanied her: worry.
Mr. Cuttlefish had assured her that she'd only been called if there was dire need for it. An Emergency. Something that could end Inkadian society as they know it—something that went beyond the Octarian Menace. Truthfully, knowing Mr. Cuttlefish, that could have been him-speak for "we're never calling on you". Which was fine by Alice, really. She shuddered to think about what could have been worse, to him, than his beloved Octarian Menace.
The new Captain, Captain Sango, was quite different though, she supposed. After the whole "Deepsea Metro" incident, the older Agent's perspective on Octarians as a whole was forcibly moulded. Not all at once, contrary to one might assume, but slowly. Slowly, like the way the leaves shift colours from summer to fall. Nowadays, "worse than the Octarian Menace" could mean anything, the bar was just so low.
Still, that did very little to assuage Alice's worry.
The cabin door opened with a fond croning creak, as Alice stepped in. She shucked her shoes at the genkan and slotted them in the fourth shoe slot. She sat her bag just under it and straightened her back as she stepped inside the cabin proper. Agents 1 and 2 were already there, sat by a black kotatsu with little green and pink squid decals. Agent Four didn't see the Captain anywhere.
"Welcome back, Agent Four!!" Callie shouted gleefully. She sprung up and tackled Four into a hug, twirling the younger girl around before she set her down. She not-so-subtly checked over Four as she continued, "It's been so long! Oh my cod, how have you been?"
"We texted earlier…" Four mumbled shyly. Her face heated, just a little bit. Callie was a spitfire, a tempered ball of energy. She was definitely a little calmer now, but that wasn't really saying much. There was always an adjustment period when it came to meeting her in person, regardless of how many times you've met her before. Four didn't mind, though. Callie was a good friend, a sturdy anchor in a tumultuous sea.
Another anchor was her cousin, Marie. Unlike her, though, Marie did not shoot up to greet Four. Imperceptibly, she straightened her back and waved cooly. Then, she turned away to take a long, pointed, sip of her macha tea.
Four grinned and waved back. "Good morning, Sensei!"
Marie pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. "Good morning, Agent Four. I told you not to call me that."
Oh I know, Four thought mischievously. She dare not say it when she's clearly within bass-beating range, though. Instead, she let Callie lead her to their kotatsu and took a cup of tea Marie had already brewed for her. Her seasonal favourite; pumpkin spice chai.
It wasn't long after that, when the Captain came into the room.
They looked about the same as they always did, of course; tired. Very tired, in fact, with a slight limp and a permanent scowl etched on their freckled face. They still wrapped themself in the old Cap'n's poncho, even wore the same t-shirt he once did. The scar on their face etched deep wrinkles along the right side of their face, where the eye itself looked in a wholly different direction than the other.
Four's heart fluttered as a helpless smile peeled over their face. "How's it goin' Kaori!"
Their scowl relaxed, somewhat. Their version of a smile, Four was pretty sure. They sat down with a grunt. "Hi Alice. Did you get here safe?"
"No, I actually tripped and fell off the cliff while walking here," Four joked. While the Captain merely rolled their eye in response, Four could see the barest hint of a smile play on their lips.
“I'm glad you made it safe, then,” they said sincerely. Marie cleared her throat.
“When you two love fish are done, we have a mission briefing that might need attention,” Marie interrupted, with a pointed look at the two inkfish. Four fought the urge to stick her tongue out at her senior. Besides, maybe she should be thankful; her interruption got the Captain flustered again. Cute.
“R-right,” they cleared their throat. They straightened their shoulders as their expression snapped to something serious. “For the past few months, we've been following a series of attacks that have occurred in Inkopolis and Splatlands, since the Octarian integration.”
Since the Octarian Integration? But that was 8 years ago now…
“It started off slow, maybe one incident every other year, but for the past few months it's been getting far more common, and more deadly to boot,” quietly, they pulled out a manilla folder from a satchel Four hadn't seen and laid it carefully onto the kotatsu. In it, dozens of photographs and files spilled outside. Pictures of various sites. News reports, interviews. Obituaries. They continued, “nobody knows who did it, why or to what means, and the case has been cold with little leads since it started. The government has given up, but I think we have the means to figure this out.”
“I love your confidence in us, but…” Four chewed the inside of her cheek. Cold for 8 years… she shivered at the thought. How did the Captain suppose they had more means than the government did? She looked at the Captain's expression, determination forged with steel, and steeled herself. “No, I trust you. You wouldn't say that unless you were confident.”
The Captain smiled. The first one Four had seen for a little while. Cute. “I gathered as much information as I could find, thanks to Sheldon, Marie and Marina, we were able to make quite the dossier.”
“Even Obituaries?”
“Knowing who was killed, what they're like, who they're related to and what their loved ones think about them, is very important,” The Captain pointed out, “this kind of information could tell you if the attacks are targeted or if they're just senseless. Marie, would you like to summarise?”
That, of course, was Captain speak for “my throat hurts super bad please speak for me” but Four was graceful enough not to comment. Marie, however, did shoot the Captain a knowing smile.
“From what we gathered, it almost seems random. While there's more Octoling victims—even some Octarian victims--the number is almost even with Inkling victims,” Marie summarised, “but, we noticed that the Octo victims either don't have immediate family, aren't employed, or are struggling financially or with some kind of mental illness. Inkling victims typically do have families. The youngest victim is high-school aged.”
“How many victims are there?”
“Not as many as one might think, actually,” Marie answered, “about 20 victims, with 11 being Octolings and 9 being Inklings.”
Four hummed thoughtfully. Twenty was still a pretty high number—really, so was one, when it came to the untimely death of others—but over such a long course of operation, it certainly wasn't that large. If whatever group was behind this was trying to make a statement, they weren't doing the best job about it. But, that left a new question.
“How do we know these attacks are related? With such long spaces between the attacks, and the low count, how can we tell?” Four wondered. Callie shifted in her seat, her face drawn into a cringe.
"Well, while we can't say for sure," Marie answered, with a slight drawl, "we can say that there have been patterns. Agent One noticed that there was a dead eel pinned to the wall, either on-site or nearby. Sometimes multiple."
"a…dead…eel?" Four echoed dumbly.
"A dead skinned eel, actually," the Captain added helpfully. "The skin job is always super precise, not a single scale on it. They're also usually covered in ink, but the colour varies enough that I don't necessarily think that's important."
"Also…" Callie cringed, "it usually correlates with how many inkfish were…killed."
Oh.
"Well, okay, that's…wow, I hate my job," was all Four could muster. Turns out her gut was always right. Whoever they were dealing with was absolutely insane, downright sadistic. But, something didn't quite sit right. "Wait, but most public areas have re-spawn points connected. If they splat someone, can't they just come back?"
The Captain shook their head. "Before each attack, there's always an area-wide shortage of the respawn points."
"W-why aren't the authorities dealing with this?" Four couldn't help but ask. The respawners shutting down can't be a coincidence. They must have some kind of access to the energy grids—respawners don't just Shut Down.
“Yes, they don't. It's why I have reason to believe that their options run very deep,” The Captain agreed solemnly. They continued to sign, “the fact that these attacks have been getting more deadly and still not making waves is also another red flag to me. It's why…we need to take this into our own hands.”
Whatever residual fear left in Four melted away, to leave room for determination. She nodded sharply, beak tugged into a frown. Then, something else came to mind. A
"I'm ready for the mission, an allat, but where's Agent Three in all this?" Admittedly, Four was hoping to meet the young girl. She'd heard a lot from the Captain.
"That's part of the reason I called you here," the Captain admitted, after a moment. Their hands gestured vaguely for a moment, before they continued, "She's on vacation. Her friends won some kind of tournament, and they got a free month-long trip to Amerinka, or something like that. She deserves a break, but this can't wait."
Four nodded sharply. She leaned toward the Captain and grinned mischievously, “then I'm at your service, Captain.”
Even on active duty, the Captain was easily flustered. They turned away and coughed, as Callie burst into raucous laughter, which only made their face burn a deeper blue.
“A-anyway… Four, I want to send you on a recon mission. We have reason to believe that their next place of attack might be around Wall-eye Warehouse.”
“Oh! Marie and I had a part-time job there, like, sooo long ago,” Callie exclaimed, “but, I don't get it, why? That's such a random spot…”
Four frowned. “It used to be a stage, a couple of years ago. I guess it still is, but it's not as used as it used to be. It was one of the first stages released in the new wave of turf wars back in May of 2015—but, why—”
“Well, it's also a pretty essential workplace, I can see an attack on it being disruptive, if that's their goal. Their little organisation has been hitting old stages recently—Saltspray Rig, Piranha Pit—It seemed like the next option,” the Captain explained. They fiddled with their poncho idly. “This is a shot in the dark, but my gut tells me that I might be onto something. Which is why I'm only sending you, Agent Four. Be sneaky, there's a sewer system underneath the warehouse you can use to get inside without being noticed—which is vital. They're still in working hours.”
Four nodded sharply. Simple plan, then. Sneak in, stake out the warehouse for a few hours, get out. Jobs like this were beyond tedious and boring, she wasn't surprised that the Captain allocated something like this to her. Callie simply didn't have the patience, and she was sure Marie had better things to do.
Four shot up and grinned sharply. “Will do, Captain!”
“If you see any suspicious activity, page me, okay? You should have the pager in your pack. I'm sure Sheldon could provide you with whatever charger you'd like.”
Perfect. Chargers were one of Four's strong points. She was incredibly versatile by default, but certain weapons felt nicer than others.
“Oh, but only use it when absolutely necessary, okay?” the Captain started. They shifted nervously and added, “be careful Agent Four…please.”
Four gave the older squid a mock salute. “Of course, y'know I'm the most careful squid you'll ever meet!”
This was gonna be a breeze, really. How likely was it that the organisation they knew nothing about was actually going to attack today?