The analyst floated silently in the neon-blue currents, his tentacles deftly scrolling through layers of holographic data. Even amidst the chaos of a potential Chromajelly raid, his expression remained a mask of unwavering calm, each blink precisely timed. There had been whispers—codes—of an impending attack decoded from rogue signals intercepted last night. He knew the Cyctopi's fragile peace depended on this information reaching Regina. But as he swam towards the High Council chambers, a sudden EMP burst darkened the waters, cutting off network access and communication links. With a quirky smirk, he pulled out a hidden analog drive—an obsolete tech, yet now crucial. In a world dominated by digital prowess, who would've thought vintage could be a game-changer?