Saturation poco a poco

They were hardly five steps out of the elevator when Eight noticed it: a puddle of murky ink on a platform nearly identical to the one they stood on. The arena was dead quiet, yet she swore she could hear the subtle sounds of something—*someone*—within the ink. And not even a second after that, a figure emerged from within.It all happened so fast. Their limbs moved like a puppet on a string, somehow moving with both a clunky awkwardness and the fluidity of an Octarian solider. It soon became apparent why: she would watch as this figure finally freed its hand from the ink at their feet, reeling back to indicate this took great strength to achieve. It held a splattershot high in the air, a weapon identical to the one which appeared in her own hands.And then, silence. Her pounding hearts came to a sudden stop, waiting with great anticipation while the figure's head fell forward.While the *inkling's* head fell forward.