Octo #201

Driftwood. That's what the others called him. He had a habit of floating through the bioluminescent undercurrents, always showing up at the most opportune times with information no one else could gather. Panacea district was his haunt, a sanctuary of neon glows and ephemeral data. Tonight, he sluiced his way through the algae-lit thoroughfares, delivering a message that could turn the tide in the Vanguards' favor. Yet, even as the data chip changed tentacles, everyone knew better than to probe too deep into how Driftwood always seemed to stay one step ahead—his cryptic smiles were all the answer they'd ever get.

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OCTOPUS BOYZ

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