Boy from Nowhere

Octoling Assault!

Three pulled the door open, letting another boy exit before sliding into the shop. The door clicked shut behind him. "Sheldon, it's Three."

"Ah, yes!" The shell of the horseshoe crab disappeared behind the counter. "I've been meaning to speak with you, it's about my grandpappy's weapon."

"Yeah?" A blue scroll was tossed up into the air, which the Inkling snatched and unrolled. Sheldon appeared himself a moment later, clutching a wrapped package.

"First and foremost, your new grip. Won't slip, comfortable, barely weighs a thing. Ten eggs should do the trick, it wasn't too hard to make something like this." His Splattershot clattered gently onto the counter as he took the package, pulling out the new part. The dark rubber clung to his hand, a pleasant upgrade from the hard, slippery plastic grip Sheldon had given him before.

While you get that on, let's discuss the blueprints I've drafted up. First on the list of upgrades is going to be a pressurizer."

"What for?" Three asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"More forceful shots, higher fire rate, increased capacity, longer range, stuff like that."

"How much would something like that cost?" The shopkeeper tapped a finger against his chin, humming in thought.

"I'm not sure yet. It's going to take a lot of work to tune the pressurizer to work as well as the core, not to mention scaling it down to a size that would even fit the gun... it's hard to know just how much it's going to take to get this to work, so you don't have to worry about that for now."

"Alright, we'll cross that bridge when we get there, then." Three set down the new grip, picking up his weapon to unscrew the unwieldy attachment on its front end. He was glad to finally be rid of it.

"In the meantime, I think I'll get to work on improving the pressure chamber, reserve tank, get this thing working like a real gun. You should start seeing those parts come around soon, don't you worry." The horseshoe crab clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly.

"Sorry to interrupt, Sheldon, but I've got something else for you to-" Three was cut off by a frantic voice bursting through his earpiece.

"Three, I need you back at base now!" The Inkling winced at the volume.

"What's going on, Captain?"

"Something's moving out here!" The blood flowing through his veins ran cold. The agent finished screwing in his new grip, tossing the bag of eggs and the goggles onto the counter.

"Hold onto that for me, Sheldon. Feel free to mess with the goggles." His fingers fumbled for a switch. "Hide, captain. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Wait, what? What's going on?" The crab asked, picking up the headgear.

"We've got movement in the Valley. I'll be back later."

— — —

Three burst out of the grate, Splattershot leveled and ready to fire. "Captain?" He called nervously. No ink, nothing broken, everything looked clear... "Captain? It's Three!"

"Lad, there you are!" The old Inkling emerged from the shack, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

"What's going on? Where are they?"

"Second sector, I could hear 'em clangin' around from here! They can't be up to any good."

"I'll get on it, Captain." The agent grabbed his ink tank, slinging it over his shoulder with a single fluid motion and connecting his weapon to it. Was his knife in his pocket? Okay, there it was, good. He changed forms, squeezing his ink sac as hard as he could. The pressure bubbled in his gut, his muscles rippling as he struggled to contain the liquid within himself. Just a little more... and bang, off he went. The air rushed around him, followed moments later by the heavy impact of the ground.