Boy from Nowhere

Interlude

Three grunted as he ducked behind a barrier, flinching as bombs detonated around him in the darkness. His clothes were heavy and dripping with enemy ink, his muscles wooden with fatigue. Somewhere out of sight, he could hear the whirring motors and garbled snarls of Octarians, prowling, waiting for him to show his face.

Hearing his ink tank ping, the agent whipped out a bomb and hurled it back over the barrier. The enemy forces snarled, and he pulled himself up, weapon ready to splat the enemy. He was met with silence and emptiness, the patchwork floors stretching out into the darkness.

Three swiveled, jerking the muzzle from side to side as he searched for his targets, but there was nothing. A pair of bright yellow lights suddenly flickered to life in front of him, forcing the boy to shield his eyes. Squinting at the offender, he could see dark pinpricks in the center of the two lights glaring down at him. Eyes.

Dozens of yellow sclera revealed themselves around him as Octarians opened their eyes, their machinery sputtering back to life. The Octostomp's pistons hissed as it rose on its stubby legs, a growl building up within its depths. It let out an angry shriek and lowered its body, charging at him.

— — —

Nemesis shot up with a hand outstretched as if to shoot, yelping in pain as a cut on his arm twinged. His hearts were racing as though he'd just finished a training course with the captain, his muscles stiff and sore even after days of rest. He was sitting on the bench right outside the Captain's shack, his old jacket on his lap. The sun had already risen into the sky, painting everything a cheerful, bright blue.

The Inkling looked down at his bandaged hands, gently flexing his fingers. The bandages shifted, constricting as he tried to spread them further apart. He could still hear the Octostomp's roars echoing in the back of his mind, angry and vengeful. Shuddering, the boy slowly rose from his resting place, plodding over to the restroom.

Nemesis undid the bandages carefully, gently cupping water with his hands and splashing his face. The cold liquid was soothing, driving the sleep from his mind and clearing up his head. Patting his face dry with his shirt, the boy began to wrap the strips of cloth back around his hands. The familiar tapping of a cane alerted him to another presence.

"Oh, you're awake, lad. Good to see."

"Captain." He turned around, snapping a weak salute. The older Inkling was dressed in clothing he'd never seen before, an olive cargo jacket and a pair of blue trousers, both clearly worn by time. His cap sat on his head, the gold insignia glinting in the light.

"I'm going to run some errands down in Inkopolis. D'ya want to come? Yer legs don't look like they can hold ya up too well right now." Nemesis shook his legs out a little, trying to loosen them up. Still stiff, but he wasn't about to tell the captain that.

"I think they'll hold up. Do I need to bring my weapon?"

"Not a bad idea, we might be able to get it tuned up." Nemesis turned to go find his weapon but was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. "Take this before I forget. You fought well, you deserve it. Plus, we don't get groceries often, so if you want something, today's the day." Cuttlefish held out a small pouch, placing it into the agent's palm with a muted clinking. Coins? "Alright, get going, bucko. We should get going before the plaza fills up."

— — —

Nemesis shot into the air, switching forms and landing awkwardly on the concrete. The plaza was much more active than the last time he'd been there, with Inklings laughing, some carrying bags and others food. The metal grate creaked as the captain gently pushed it up, and the boy turned to help the older Inkling out of the drain.