Aftershock

Orange Lanterns

"Attention: an active criminal has been spotted on the run in this area. If you see an Inkling with short, green hair wearing a large, grey coat, please report them and keep yourselves safe from any unidentified infiltrators."

"Jeez, another one? What is that—the third time this week?"

"I think so. Let's just get this over with and get outta here. This section of the city has always been crawling with lowlifes."

"You're so judgemental! It's not their fault everything's gone to—"

"Loretta, focus."

"He's right. This isn't the time to talk about the reasons behind everything."

"Oh my cod, you two are starting to sound so much alike. I can see why you decided to train him in the first place, Xiun."

"...Right. Anyway...Etian, if you have any issues, call us in."

"Yeah, I'll be keeping an eye out at base for an hour before I head out too. Good luck today—over and out."

Etian switched his headset off with a sigh as the voices of his mentors cut out. He leaned back against one of the street lights lining the sidewalk—squinting and pushing his singular, large purple tentacle out of his eyes as a gust of wind kicked up some of the sand from the desert. Just when he was about to pull down his Pilot Goggles over his eyes, the sand died down and merely blew towards his feet.

"No wonder this side of the city's so sketchy," He thought to himself while the wind died down. Other bystanders walking about either ran behind the wall of a building or shielded their eyes with their hats and sleeves. "It's the perfect distraction."

Etian glanced at the large gate from afar whose hinges creaked with old age—only allowing more sand to come into the streets. With how many sandstorms per year, it was a surprise that there were still small-businesses up and running in the area. Shaking his head free from pitiful thoughts, Etian turned his back to the wide gate and began walking along the sidewalk to his destination.

"1499, 1499, 1499..." He repeated the address inside his head as he kept his hands in the pockets of his yellow-and-black jacket. Thankfully, it was a small task that hardly required any stealth due to how obscure the area already was. Still, Etian tried not to fiddle with the tiny, packer bottle in his right pocket as more people walked past him. He kept his hood down to avoid suspicion—making his way past run-down houses and apartment buildings while trying not to stare at the numbered address for too long.

1456...1459...1463...

After another five minutes of kicking up loose pebbles with his Slamgerine Slip-ons, the address came into view. It was about as shabby as he'd expected with its rusted, metal roof, dirt-stained sides, and even the small, green sign with white numbers imprinted on it was losing its color. Etian pushed the once-polished, green-metal gate aside as he made his way across scattered slabs of stone and dead grass up to the doorway. His finger hovered over the doorbell for a split second before forming a fist and knocking on the rough, wooden surface of the door itself.

One second.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

He tried again.

One...

Five...

Ten...

The door opened to a hunched-over Inkling whose long, yellow hair was slowly beginning to form dry tips at the ends. With half-lidded eyes, he did his best to muster a smile and ushered Eitan inside. Etian nodded in understanding, making sure to lock the door behind him before taking in the sight of the house. He peeked between the closed, faded-orange curtains just above a drawer sitting by the door frame while the man who greeted him stood a distance away—waiting.