Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Double-Edged

by DommyMcDoodle, LukerUpgradez, PaperCutz

Summary:

Two worlds, one story — and standing on the ash left by both are prodigal engineer Mathew Walker and teenage amnesiac Joey Johdaile. What starts as an innocuous trash-cleaning job doubling as their initiation into a mysterious organization rapidly spirals into something greater…and soon, they and their friends find themselves deciding the fate of both worlds.

Chapter 1: The Light

Book I: The Scourge of Kalmwa'er

---

Prologue: The Light

Oh, how Mathew missed when the street lights would illuminate his yard. He tried to fix them himself, but the harvesters always worked faster. Now, the only thing exposing the looters in his yard was the glow of the moon.

He peered down at the two. Mathew didn’t have to know who they were to know what they were here for. How pathetic…but also, how dreadful. That feeling was what kept him there, unmoving, watching.

The mechanical parts of his home’s defender whirred and stirred outside, and just as swiftly as the marauders had arrived, they vanished into the night. Buttons made sure no cowards like them would ever step foot in his house. Watching the titan of a machine succeed brought a wave of euphoria. Victory.

It didn’t last long.

The moment Mathew threw himself back into bed, he knew sleep was far off. He tossed and turned, but no comfort came. It never would. Many months had passed since this room, now nearly barren besides the bed and a lone dresser, had given him comfort.

His own mind was not much better. Every pursuit of peace of mind was drowned out by his many turmoils and regrets. The flood was unending.

He turned his exhausted body to face the other side of his room. There was nothing there… Big mistake. He was already welling up with tears. Damnit. Now he needed something to drown it all out.

Careful not to wake anyone else, he tiptoed to the kitchen. There was plenty of food lying around that he could munch on to fill in the empty space where sleep should go. Or perhaps he could drink the night away. That’d be easy. Nice, even. Slowly, he reached for the refrigerator door and—

Mathew turned around only to find himself blinded by a giant ball of searing heat and energy right in front of him. “Greetings,” a voice boomed in his head.

The light was so overwhelming. “What the hell…” His back slid against the door until he was sitting on the wooden floor. In the blink of an eye, he had reached into into a drawer and pulled a knife on the light. “Get back! I-I’m not ready to go!”

The gleam of the ball dimmed, as if to quell his panic. “Do not fear, for I have not come to bring harm to you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

He understood what this was now. Rather than suppress them with gluttonous coping methods, his brain had decided to counter his overwhelming feelings with an equally overwhelming dosage of lunacy. Maybe the looters had gotten in and tampered with the air? No, this had to be something else. “Let me guess,” he said, dropping the weapon. “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

The floating ball of energy shook around as though it had a visible head. “I can assure you, I am no Grim Reaper. Rather, I am speaking to you from another dimension. Have you, by any chance, heard of Pokémon?”

Mathew squinted at the light. “That’s...a question. I’ve played a few games before, yeah. What about them?”

“In my world, pokémon are real, living creatures.”

He stared at him for several seconds. Then, he burst into laughter. “Hah! Really? I’ve dreamed up a magic light preaching to me about alternate dimensions where creatures a corporation made up live? I really didn’t think I’d gone this crazy yet.”

The voice in his head sighed. “Still don’t believe I’m real? Take this.”

A thick, three-ring bright blue binder slapped Mathew square in the face. He stared at the gift in his lap in awe. He certainly wasn’t dead or a loon… What did that make him now?

“In this binder,” the voice explained as he studied it, “are blueprints. These blueprints are for a portal generation device designed to allow you to create a rip in this universe and jump into another. This rip will allow to venture into my world: Solceus.”

Inside, various papers filled its rings, showing every angle inside and out of this seven-foot, circular device. No easy project, that’s for sure. “And you expect me to make this how, exactly?”

“There is no need to play coy,” the light told him. “I know very well about your talents. At the time of your youth, the possibility of crafting such a thing may have once held doubt. But this is twenty sixty four! Your skills and funds, combined with these blueprints, are all you will need to assemble the right parts.”

Mathew couldn’t deny any of the praise he gave. For a brief moment, that gave him confidence, and he considered that maybe this light coming into his life wasn’t so bad. Still, he remained skeptical. “Okay, but what’s in it for me?” he asked. “I’ve already got clients bleeding me dry here.”

“Don’t you see the world you’re living in? How miserable it is?”

He slouched against the cold refrigerator door, chilling his spine. “Yeah. It’s twenty sixty four,” he mocked. “You’re screwed, I’m screwed, the planet’s screwed, it’s the goddamn apocalypse. What about it?”

“You can use this gateway into my world to escape. Start again. And in return, all we will ask for is your presence and assistance.”

We… Mathew still had doubts about this miraculous encounter, but this idea gave him a warm but foreign feeling he could no longer deny. Was this...hope? He wanted it to be hope. “Well, it’s worth a try, at least,” he conceded.

“Excellent!” The light was enthused, as if this was a bigger occasion for him than it was for Mathew. “Now, before I part, I should mention that going to this dimension will turn you into a pokémon as well, but I’m sure you can live with that, can’t you?”

“Wait, hang on. What should I do about my s—?”

“Good,” the voice interrupted. “Until we meet again.” With that, the ball of light slowly shrunk into nothing, leaving him to rub his eyes and adjust back into the night. No longer blinded, Mathew got a long look at what the blueprints had to say. At the bottom of each diagram, essay, and graph, the page was signed with a pair of initials written in white: D.E.

Satisfied, he closed the binder and made for another room. He was going to sound insane, but he had to tell him the good news.

---

Eight months. Eight long, grueling months were what it had taken to construct this mechanical masterwork. It looked miserable, barely matching the blueprints’ design and hardly fitting in his workshop, but it was done. He hoped.

Mathew spent a solid two minutes praying for it to work. He was desperate now. Ever since that chance meeting, he had wanted nothing more than to meet the light and whoever this D.E. was and finally free himself from this nightmare.

After he finished bargaining his soul, he decided it was time. Slowly, he pressed the button on the side. Tiny streaks of sparks danced across the ends of the circular machine. He stepped away, fearing an explosion.

There was no explosion, however. Instead, the very air began to tear away. In his past attempts, the black rip would shrink into nothing, but here, it kept growing until it met with the portal’s frame. It was stable enough that he could simply walk through it now.

“Yes!” Mathew shouted in blissful joy. It was done! He could finally leave this awful Earth! With that out of the way, he could begin preparations. First order of business: change into a business suit, complete with a burgundy polka-dotted tie. Although he’d been given numbers to punch in, he didn’t know where they led. He’d rather arrive looking too formal than too casual.

Next, he searched his house up and down, making sure he had everything he wanted for his potentially permanent vacation. The unfinished Wormhole Wristlet? Take! An emergency lunch? Take! That scrapbook on the shelf? Uh…well…he’d regret it later if he didn’t take it. And how could he leave behind his computer?! Thank God that his backpack could store it all.

Huh. I wonder what Solceans worship? he thought.. Don’t they have, what’s his name...Arceus? He shrugged it off for now. He’d get those answers soon enough.

Throwing the backpack into the corner for the moment, Mathew went over his plans one last time. He had all that he could want, except…except for…

No, no. He couldn’t think about that. It was an awful loss — the hardest part of these eight months — but there was nothing he could do about it now. Well, nothing other than finishing their task.

He grabbed his backpack, rubbed his chin for a moment — this might be the last time he’d have a beard — and then stepped into the rip.

Chapter 2: The Man and the Boy

Chapter 1: The Man and the Boy

Water is an essential part of human survival. Whole civilizations have built their foundations on rivers and coastlines, tying their fates together. Even in the distant lands of the western frontier, desert-trotters with brimmed hats, roped lassos, and bold horses would survive on canteens and waterholes. So, when water sources are endangered from ignorance, overuse, and abuse, it’s only natural that next to go is—

CRASH!

The boy was slammed by a wrathful wave. He tumbled across the damp sand, scraping his arms, his legs, and his whatever-that-was. Bitter salt water filled his odd-feeling throat, making him cough and spit as he fumbled his way onto his feet.

He whipped his head around, trying to get his bearings. Why had he been drifting off this close to the ocean? The tide must have come up and tried to pull him in. Shouldn’t he know better than to test the Earth’s lifeline?

On that subject, why was he alone at a beach in the first place? And a beach this dirty, too. There were bags, boxes, cans, shards of plastic, and loose paper prints with unfamiliar logos on them strewn around everywhere. He could only imagine what hid beneath that layer of bright blue going out endlessly until it met with the sky. Beautiful as it was, it surely concealed all sorts of its own pollution that put marine life in danger and how the heck do I know all this?

The boy took a step away from the shoreline and turned inwards. Now that he thought about it, he had no recollection of where he had learned all these things about water. He just…knew it. He was staring at a list of facts with nothing to attach them to.

What did he remember, then?

My name is Joey Johdaile.

Okay… What else?

I am sixteen years old.

Good. What was he doing before he woke up?

…

Where does he live? What school does he go to? What are the names of his friends?

…

Where were his parents?

…

Who were his parents?

…

…Well, ain’t that a problem.

Joey began heaving as nerves set in. He was alone, an amnesiac, stranded on a beach with no person or ship in sight, and what the heck was wrong with his face? He thought it was just dizziness from the saltwater at first, but this was something else entirely. The puffing of his mouth was so far away from his eyes, and the air in his nose felt like it was moving sideways? And what was that when he tried crossing his eyes? It was way too long to be a nose…and blue. His hands, if that’s what you’d call such thick, nubby things, were that same light shade of blue. Wiggling his digits felt natural, but so off, as if he was—

Wait.

Joey slowly opened his mouth. The thing in his crossed peripheral raised.

That’s not a mouth. That’s a maw. A crocodilian maw!

Now Joey was on a whole new level of dread. On top of it all, he couldn’t even call himself human now! That was the last straw. He needed to figure out what exactly was going here.

Grumble…

…and he needed to do it fast.

With his little legs, Joey hustled through large stalks of grass, approaching a forest that was sadly devoid of palm trees. A sea of trees. Maybe he could see some people around if he was higher up?

But before he could get any closer, Joey’s foot struck a green cowboy hat with a white knitted brim. It wasn’t buried into the sand like the rest of the garbage — this got here recently. Curious, Joey picked it up, holding the inside to his eyes. Awaiting him was a note.

Don’t forget.

JJ and MW

“JJ”. Was this hat…his? Joey carefully fitted it on, letting the rope strap wrapping under his maw keep it in place above his eyes. Even if a crocodile didn’t have skin to burn, protecting his eyes from the late-morning sun was a good bonus — if it wasn’t his before, it was now.

Joey pressed on, trudging through the dense brush as best he could. He got to the top and…huh?

He gawked at the sight. Was that another animal, sprawled out in front of him? He raced to their side, trying to get a look at them. This brown reptile didn’t resemble any animal Joey could think of. Over their head was a skull mask with a nasty, exposing crack on its right side. From his steady breathing, Joey could conclude that they were alive — from the burgundy tie on their neck and the gold ring on his ‘thumb’, sapient. Next to them was a long, slender bone club, one end blunt, the other sharp. What was this fellow doing wearing and carrying bones?

There wasn’t another soul in sight. This animal was all that Joey had to go off of. He bent down and began shaking them. “Uh, mister?” he guessed. “Are you okay? Mister?!”

---

Shaking. He was shaking. Something was on top of him. He was going to die. He was going to get eaten. Fight. Fight fight fight—

“Get off!” Mathew reached around for something to grab and, once he found something, started smacking the blue beast with it.

“Woah! Ow, ow, ow!” The hat-wearing pokémon, which he recognized as a totodile, stumbled backwards.

Mathew rose up to run — and he fell. He stood again, walked — tripped. His vision was slightly limited by...a snout? A helmet? What was that?

“Where the heck are you going?!” the totodile exclaimed behind him.

“Away from y—shit!” This time, he fell straight into the side of a tree, smacking his hip against the bark. A few leaves gently glided down and landed on him.

“Mister!” Before he knew it, the totodile’s shadow was overtop of his aching body. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to get you more spooked than a girl at a graveyard.” A blue hand lowered down to him. “Are you okay?”

“Does it look like it…?” Mathew groaned, seizing his arm and pulling himself up. The totodile pulled him to his feet, giving him a moment to get accustomed to this off-kilter feeling. He glanced around, finding an empty forest on his right and an empty beach on his left.

“You ain’t got any reason to be scared of me, you know.” The totodile smiled at him. “I was just trying to wake you up.”

Mathew felt weary at the sight of his maw, loaded up with sharp teeth, but he supposed that this pokémon probably couldn’t help how those looked. “Okay, well that’s good. I thought you were gonna eat me alive or something!” he gave a lighthearted chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“Mister, I need you to ask you some questions. But before that…” The totodile picked something up off of the ground and put it in his hands. “You dropped this when you fell. This is yours, right?”

“Uh…” He looked down at the object. It was a—

a—

“Absolutely not.” He tossed the slender bone club into the woods. It hurled through the air a lot farther than he anticipated.

The totodile stepped away in surprise. “But it was right next to you! And it’s bone, like your mask!”

“Mask?” Mathew finally realized that he was no longer the man — he was the cubone. He rubbed his hands around his body, feeling out the damage. His burgundy tie was still around his neck, and his ring had somehow gotten onto his weird thumb-thing, but the rest of his clothes were gone, leaving only this new mask. He found a crack in it where his scaly skin was exposed on the right side. “What kind of sick joke is this? Cubone. Of course I’m a—huh?”

He felt something graze against his leg. It was the bone club again. It came back…? He tested it again, throwing it out as far as he could. After a few seconds, it rolled through the bushes and over the roots, until finally stopping at his clawed feet.

“Woah…” Joey watched this supernatural feat in awe.

Mathew just tried to shrug it off. Pokémon were magic, anyway — what more was a magic bone? Things were probably going to be weird like that here. He’d get used to it…hopefully. It was the least this world could do to compensate taking away his stylish suit, his well-treated pants, and oh god where was his backpack?

Instantly, he leapt for the ground, pushing his way through the flora with the same energy as his bone club had given before. There were too many things in that backpack for it to just have disappeared! If the powers that be had let him keep his tie, surely they’d have let him keep his essential belongings! Please, at least let him keep his scrapbook—

Behind him, Mathew heard the totodile chuckle. “You’re hounding that ground closer than a dog playing fetch!” He paused, mulling over that remark. “Well, you do have a bone…”

As demeaning as it might’ve been to get compared to a dog, Mathew laughed a little too. This totodile’s comments were weirdly nostalgic. It was good to remember that he wasn’t alone in these woods. “Hey, I brought a backpack with me. Brown, leather, has a dozen pockets… There’s some really important stuff in there. Like food. Can you help me look?”

“You have food?!” Already, the totodile was squatting down, seeming confident. “Alright. I reckon that, with two of us looking, we’ll find it real quick!”

They did not find it real quick. Minutes passed with only the sound of the rushing waves and the blowing wind to accompany them. The two exhausted every inch of the area with careful eyes. When the forest proved no results, they went out onto the beach. Turned out there was all sorts of trash out there to rummage through… Still, nothing turned up that even resembled his belongings.

When the two of them regrouped where he had woken up, Mathew collapsed in defeat. “Damnit… Couldn’t they have dropped me somewhere other than the middle of nowhere?”

The totodile looked down at him curiously. “Dropped you?”

“Oh.” It hit Mathew that this stranger had wanted to ask him questions and he’d just spent the past fifteen minutes blowing him off. “Sorry. I should really explain myself.” He turned himself over into a sitting position. “Name’s Mathew. Mathew Walker. I’m an engineer for all sorts of things, and I’m good at selling them to an audience, too. To make a really long story short, I was given the instructions to build something that would…send me here. But they didn’t tell me what ‘here’ actually was.” He gave a sweeping look around. “I thought it’d be, like, their headquarters or something.”

“So a machine brought you here?” The totodile sat down next to Mathew. “Is that what happened to me…?”

“You don’t know?”

“No. I woke up on the beach over there a bit ago as this weird crocodile-man.” He pointed at his belly. “I can’t remember anything before that besides my name, my age, and some other things. I could tell you two plus two is four, but you ain’t gonna get the name of my kindergarten teacher out of me…”

So he was another former human with some kind of amnesia, then? Mathew suddenly felt a lot more sympathy for this stranger. “Damn, that’s awful! I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you remembered who you were.”

“I dunno know about that. This is about as fun as a sabertooth tiger tearing you a new one!”

Mathew couldn’t keep himself from laughing at that one, too. It reminded him of slightly better days, back when his friend’s son would come to visit. It was like he’d come back to him in the form of a totodile. “Well, I appreciate you putting that on hold to help me out! Makes me a feel a little less, uh, bonely.” He spun the club between his mitt-like hands.

The totodile squinted at him. “You can do better than that,” he graveled. “I know it.”

“Hey, I’m working with new material here!” Mathew retorted. “I gotta stretch the puncles out. I’m a cubone, you’re a totodile… What’s your name, by the way? I need to find a good pun to make of it.”

He leaned back, looking comfortable. “It’s Joey!”

All comedy Mathew had been planning stopped dead in its tracks. “...What?”

“Joey,” he repeated, looked to him nervously. “Did I say something wr—”

“Give me your hat.” He thrust a hand forward. “I need to look at it for a minute.”

“Okay?” Joey slowly, awkwardly pulled it off his head and handed it to him. Mathew turned it over.

Don’t forget.

JJ and MW

When Mathew thought Joey had come back to him, that was supposed to be metaphorical. Evidently, it was literal. “Joey Johdaile,” he mumbled in amazement. “What the hell are you doing here…?”

“How do you know my last name?!” When the realization hit Joey, he gawked at Mathew. “Oh. You know me. From when I was human.”

Mathew rose, handing Joey his hat to put back on. “It’s been more than a year since…” He was reminded of the last place he had seen Joey and had a horrible realization. “Shit, if you’re here, then where the hell are Greg and Cathy?!” He began pacing around. “Did they get visited too? But there’s no way they could build a portal on their own! But they’re not here, Joey is, but Joey doesn’t have his memories, and—”

“Mathew.” Joey rested a shoulder on him, and that took him out of his panic. “What’s going on here? I don’t remember a thing about who I am. Can you fill me in?”

“Well, your parents are named Greg and Catherine. They’re family friends, and…” Mathew felt his throat constrict. The only way he could tell Joey about himself is if Mathew told him the full story. That meant he’d have to tell him about that, and about that, and about that.

He couldn’t do this. Not now. He just couldn’t.

“That’s…all…I can tell you.”

“Can?” Joey said. “You mean you know more? Why the heck did you stop?”

Mathew desperately racked his brain for a way to explain this lightly to Joey. “Have you ever ripped off a bandage really slowly?”

The totodile looked at Mathew as if he was a dunce. “If I have, I ain’t remembering that anytime soon.”

“Ah, right.” Mathew sighed, backing away from Joey. “Listen, Joey, I do want to tell you, but I just…” Despite it being a warm morning, he felt himself shiver. “Besides, we shouldn’t do this while we’re in the middle of nowhere, and I need to find the people who brought me here, and it was already hard enough when—”

“Well, we ain’t doing anything but sitting around right now, are we?” Joey pointed out, raising his voice. “These all sound like some real thin excuses to me. Could you at least tell me why you can’t tell me?”

“No! That defeats the whole point!” Mathew snapped back. He immediately regretted it when he saw Joey falter for a moment, taken aback by Mathew’s volume. “…Sorry.”

The totodile seemed even more miffed. He whirled around, taking his gaze away from Mathew. “You’ve got the memories. I already tried to help you you with your problem today. If you’re really sorry, then you should go ahead and just—” As he looked upwards, he went silent, and the anger in his tone dissipated. “Hey. I found your backpack.”

“What?” Mathew pointed his snout to the sky, and… “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. What is it doing up there?!”

Joey was right. All along, the backpack had been high over their heads, dangling from some high-reaching branches in a nearby tree. The layer of leaves made it hard to see at a glance, but Mathew could see the straps blowing in the wind and the strain it was putting on the branches. How could it have ended up there if Mathew had awoken on the ground? Had he fallen from the sky or something?

Joey played with the brim of his hat before straightening his stance. “Well, how about I give you a good reason to talk. You wanna know a fun fact about crocodiles, Mathew?” Before he could answer, Joey stomped up to the base of his backpack’s holder. “They can climb trees!” He leapt towards it and grasped the bark, clinging on tight.

“Wait, what?!” Mathew’s agitation gave way to panic. He ran up to the tree as Joey shimmied his way up. “Slow down! If you drop the backpack from that high up, you could break something in it!”

“Figure something out, then!” Joey called back, not slowing down. “You said you’re an engineer! I reckon you can think of something quick!”

“I could make a cushion or something, but I’d need actual parts for it!”

“Well get sear—”

Splat.

A ball of water, like a water balloon with no balloon, burst against Joey. He cried out as he was knocked away.

“Joey!”

He hit the ground right on his back. Mathew could hear the sharp gasp of breath when Joey’s maw opened wide.

Some droplets from the ball landed on his arm. He winced in pain, his scaly skin stinging at the point of contact. This wasn’t normal water — the shoreline hadn’t done this to his legs.

Someone was responsible for hurting Joey. “Who did that?!”

Answering his call, two birds leapt from a nest in the tree and glided down towards them. Both were white with blue highlights on their wings and tail feathers. A “Screeeeeeeeeeee!” emanated from their orange bills tipped by black.

Mathew was intimately familiar with the species — they were a huge nuisance in the beach areas of the McDonald’s crossover. Wingull.

“This is our tree, so buzz off!” one called.

“Yeah! You loud-mouths buzz off! Screeeeeeeee!” said the other. Both of their words were as shrill as their squawks.

Mathew slowly approached the prone totodile as the wingull flew around in wide circles, weaving through the trees like they were nothing. “You assholes… All Joey wanted is that leather thing that’s in your tree! All you have to do it let us take it back and we’d leave you alone.”

“That thing is also ours!” one of them exclaimed. “Screeeeeeeee!”

The audacity… Mathew was new to this world, so he was willing to give these birds one last chance. Only one. “You can’t just claim something that fell out of the sky is yours because it landed in your tree,” he said firmly. “It belongs to me.”

One of the wingull looked down upon him. “Fell? Fell? Screeeeeeeeee!”

“It was a gift and you can’t have it!” the other said. “So can it, bonehead!”

“Bonehead! Bonehead!” they both cried, cackling to themselves.

The cubone clenched his teeth. They were sticking to their guns, then. That made them thieves.

He felt his grip around the club — his club — twitch.

“Listen here you little shits!” he yelled, swinging it out. “If you don’t give me my stuff back, I will knock you out of the air, pluck every feather out of your sorry asses, and sell them back to you at an inflated price!”

“Screeee, screeee! Those are some fighting words for a bonehead!” one wingull said.

“Yeah! Let’s see if he can back those up!” The other wingull turned and dived down. His wingtips glowed, leaving a trail as he headed straight for Joey’s body.

“Damnit!” Mathew ran over and blocked Joey’s body using his own. Like a scene straight from an Alfred Hitchcock movie, the birds slashed and cut at his back using empowered wings. Mathew was amazed he couldn’t feel any blood in those wounds.

One of them fired another splash grenade directly at Mathew’s back. Mathew howled in pain at the splatter. It was like a furious acid was burning away his scales. His knees trembled, but he couldn’t afford to fall. Joey was only now catching his breath again. His eyes expressed something between horrified and apologetic.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mathew saw one preparing a third. He was aiming at his mask-helmed head, which hardly protected Joey. He threw himself forward in a dive, nearly smashing the snout of his mask into the dirt. Direct hit, this time closer to his hip. That was almost enough to make him pass out. He couldn’t even stand anymore, collapsing atop Joey.

Joey, reanimated after having the wind kicked out of him, pulled himself out of the pile and charged. But then, something sizzled through the air, and one of the wingull yelped. Mathew picked up the scent of that wingull’s singed feathers. Then, in his fading vision, he saw something reach out for his hand. Joey? No, that wasn’t him. This hand was darker. Sleeker. Fluffier?

It wasn’t a hand at all. It was a wing.

Mathew grasped the wing, and with a logic-defyingly strong grip, it brought him out of the dirt. Another wing reached around and held him steady. The cubone was met with a pair of red eyes. This wasn’t a species he recognized. Its coat of feathers was a dark blue, almost navy, highlighted with red on the insides of the wings and the tips of its broom-like tail. Atop its head was a large, hat-like thing. A raven, maybe?

“C-Can you stand…?” She seemed to immediately regret asking the obvious, shaking her head and chastising herself under her breath. Without waiting for an answer, she offered him a blue fruit with a spotty texture. An oran berry, if he remembered right. “Eat this and…let us h-handle it, okay?” she gently ordered.

Mathew immediately bit down on it. In seconds, he felt rejuvenated, and the pain from the slashes and the splashes began to fade. He pushed away from her, eagerly downing the rest of the fruit as he walked.

The tide of the fight had taken a turn. The wingull’s cocky tones were replaced by panicked screeches, weaving through branches and leaves to keep cover on themselves. Both of them were carefully trying to avoid the electric shocks of their other rescuer — a pikachu wearing brown goggles over his eyes and a pink bandana with a pattern of white flowers over his head. Despite having the birds on the ropes, he seemed more disgruntled than anything.

“Seriously, what do they get out of plopping the new recruits out here?” he mumbled to himself as his next strike blackened the bark of one of the trees. “We could’ve just had them jump on the job right away, but nooooo, let’s make them fight wingull first instead…”

“Screeeee! This isn’t your fight, rat—” one of the wingull could hardly belt out a retort before the raven leapt up into the air and tackled him to the ground. The pair broke out into a heated scuffle, slashing at one another as if their glowing wings were blades. The wingull fought with reckless abandon, lunging at weak points any time he saw them. The raven, however, moved with near-perfect precision, teasing openings, dodging, and then sucker punching him every time he fell for it.

Mathew was mesmerized by the raven. He didn’t have to know much about swordplay — wingplay? — to see her mastery. It looked like it was effortless for her, too. Her soft gaze was now flat and expressionless, as if she wasn’t even present in the moment.

“I reckon you should be all steady now.”

Mathew turned away from the fight at the sound of Joey’s voice. The totodile was some distance away from the fight, crouching down and propping up…something. It was green spherical object with a wheel at its bottom, a single arm that looked straight from a claw machine at its side, and an antenna with a red ball at its top. This didn’t look like any pokémon he knew. Was this some kind of robot?

“Thank you.” The robot’s voice, coming from within, was monotone and artificial. As he rolled away from Joey, Mathew could hear whirring, and the ball began to glow. “Unlike some others, I’m not one for theatrics. Allow me to get straight to the point.”

In an instant, a ray of light, sparkling like a gem, blasted from the robot’s ball, shooting straight past Mathew and into the wingull the raven was fighting. The laser blasted him into a nearby tree, knocking him out instantly. The raven leapt back in surprise.

“That’s revenge for knocking me over. And for screeching.”

The other wingull wailed. With a burst of wind, he soared through the air straight towards the robot, abandoning all cover. That was a mistake — the pikachu shot him out of the sky with a ball of electricity. He crashed to the ground right at Mathew’s feet.

He was still conscious. The fried bird’s eyes were still open, slowly rising to meet Mathew’s eyes. “S… Scrrrreeeeee—”

Wham. Mathew shut the wingull up with his club. He splayed out, unconscious.

The thieves were done. They wouldn’t cause him or Joey anymore harm, and they’d gotten harmed in return. The thought of that satisfied him.

Karmic justice.

When the pikachu turned to Mathew and Joey, his disgruntlement faded, and he met them with a wide grin. “Whew! Sorry for being late to the party. If we knew you were battling birds, we’d have hurried up to come flip them for you.” He beckoned Mathew to approach. “I’m Jermy. You must be Mathew, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” The cubone stepped over the singed wingull as he came up to him. “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

“It’s Jermy.”

Mathew snickered a bit. When he was met with silence, regret followed. “…Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks for coming to save us!” Joey exclaimed. “Y’all made it look real easy.”

“I w-wouldn’t say we’re all that great, but...we did get the job done,” the raven said. “M-My name’s Demurke. I’m a…murkrow, in case you didn’t know! It’s nice to m-meet you both.”

Murkrow. A crow? One step below a raven, Mathew supposed. “What about you?” he asked the robot.

“I made him a couple years ago,” Jermy explained. “His name is—”

“I can introduce myself,” he interrupted. “I am the Observational Recreation Buddy, abbreviated ORB, version 5.1. I serve a variety of novel assistive purposes, including, but not limited to, robotic design analysis.” He turned to face his round glass screen, the closest thing he had to an eye, towards Jermy. “For example: imagine being on version 5.1 and still designing me like a fat man on a unicycle.”

“…It’s cheap!” Jermy flung his little arms out.

“Not to mention ridiculous.” ORB focused on Mathew and Joey again. “I am equipped with a small pool of moves to help in a fight, but due to my brittle design, don’t expect me to take a hit. I can also track your life force, AKA aura, if you ever get lost. Most importantly, I have access to all information available on Earth’s Wikipedia up to the year 2061.”

All of Wikipedia?! That was a lot of data to have on-hand in such a small robot, even while compressed. “Damn, impressive for a robot on a budget.”

Joey suddenly erupted into excitement. “Can you look up Joey Johdaile?!”

ORB went silent for a couple seconds. “Nice try,” he said. “Apparently nobody thought to put you on Wikipedia.”

The totodile slouched over. “Aw.”

Why was Joey—Oh, right. He almost forgot what they had been doing before this. “Hey, Demurke, can you fly up and get that backpack for me?” Mathew pointed upward towards the backpack.

Demurke looked baffled. “I-Is that your stuff? How did it get up there…?”

“We ain’t sure, either,” Joey said. “I was trying to climb up the tree for it when those seagulls attacked us.”

“That s-sounds about right.” Demurke spread out her wings. “I’ll go get it for you.” A light wind coursed beneath the wings, and with a jump, she took flight. With concise, simple wingbeats, she rose to the backpack’s level. She picked up the thing with her talons. The weight of his stuff pulled her towards the ground, but she fought back, giving the backpack a smooth landing.

“There we go!” Mathew promptly grabbed onto it — now that he was much smaller, he stood no chance of wearing it on his back — and dug out a brown paper bag. “I brought some food with me!”

“Huh. We were gonna walk and talk, but…” Jermy peered at the bag in interest.

“That’s fine! We can eat as we go.” As long as they were on the move, Mathew didn’t mind to split his attention.

It was hard to split the contents of the little brown paper bag across four small animals, but before they got moving, they managed. Joey got a chicken leg the size of a baseball bat to chew on, Demurke got a simple salad, Jermy received borgar, and Mathew…well, he got perfection packed in a plastic baggie.

Relief! At first bite, the gooey goodness of peanut butter coated the tops, bottoms, and middles of his mouth. He didn’t care that his hand was covered in it, too — the small meal made his elongated mouth and throat so much easier to get used to.

“Um…” Demurke peered back at him as he divided his attention between dragging his backpack and experiencing his ecstasy. “Did you...put p-peanut butter on both sides of the bread?”

“Donmmm fucmmmg judmmmge!” Mathew took a second to swallow. “Look, I had a lot of peanut butter and I didn’t want to waste it. Anyway, you guys wanted to talk about something?”

“Right.” Jermy’s tone darkened a little bit as he finished borgar. “So, as you might’ve already figured out, we work for the company that brought both of you here to Solceus. We call ourselves the Scientific Activity and Engagement Society, or SEAS for short. The two of us are here to help you with being recruited into the company.”

“Both of us?” Joey noted. “So y’all are the ones who brought me here without my memories?”

“Unfortunately, m-most people from Earth in SEAS…don’t have their memories from before arriving on Solceus,” Demurke explained. “There’s n-no way we could…bring everyone h-here in secret and keep all of their m-memories. It’s no good, but…it’s a s-sacrifice we’ve gotta make to s-save the world.”

That one point told Mathew a lot about what he was getting into. It sounded like this ‘SEAS’ company had big ambitions — ones that aligned with his own. Still, making their members mostly amnesiac was kind of a dick move, especially when… “I still have my memories. Couldn’t you have done the same for everyone else?”

“You’re a bit of a special case!” Jermy said. “Because you were able to build a portal where you live, you could easily afford to keep your memories! You’re actually the whole reason I’m here, and not just Demurke.”

Next to Mathew, Joey was walking in silence. His hat tipped down to cover his eyes. “So, it’s because…”

“I-I’m sorry, Joey.” Demurke moved over to give him a pat on the back. “We’re t-trying to work on everyone’s memories, but…well…” she struggled to find the words. “If it m-makes you feel better, we a-always make sure to tell people the goals and…risks before sending th-them to join us. You k-know what they told you about Pokémon, right?”

“Well…” Joey began to ponder. “They’re a big franchise on Earth. And they’re all about these fictional animals that know how to fight. It’s…not like Solceus? I dunno how, though.”

“G-Good! That means—”

Joey kept going. “And one of them is a totodile. A blue crocodile-man…like me. And it becomes a bigger crocodile-man called a croconaw, and an even bigger crocodile-man called a feraligatr.”

Demurke seemed just as surprised. “Wow! I g-guess we…really outdid ourselves, then.”

How did Joey know that much about totodiles? Neither him nor his parents had been gamers the last he’d seen them, Mathew was sure. It’s not like totodile was a particularly popular starter…

Mathew’s confusion gave way when he noticed that Joey looked even more depressed than before. “All this, and I still don’t know a darn thing about my parents.”

The cubone could only look to him in sympathy. If only there was some way for him to help without… Wait a second! “Guys, stop for a minute.” He paused their walk to unzip the largest flap of his backpack. He dug through it until he pulled out something rectangular. The baby blue scrapbook was still in good condition, although it was still missing a photo for the plastic cover sleeve. “I can’t tell you more myself…but I can show you this.” He flipped to a particular page and handed it to Joey.

“Oh!” Joey’s eyes lit up. The photo Mathew had flipped to featured three people — a brown-eyed boy wearing a cowboy outfit next to a slender man wearing a vest and a well-rounded woman wearing a labcoat. A banner reading “Happy Halloween” ran along a wall in the background. “Is this…?”

“Yep! That’s you, Greg, and Cathy! It’s not much, but at least you know what they look like now. Does that make you feel any better?”

Joey paused before giving a crooked nod. “I reckon it does a little.”

“And h-hey!” Demurke was eagerly studying the photo herself. “If you’re here, maybe…your mom and dad are here too? Whenever I g-get some time freed up, I’ll go and ask around to see if a-anybody knows them.”

“That would be real great!” This seemed to be enough for Joey at the moment. Mathew couldn’t be happier.

Jermy had been watching this without saying a word. When the cubone looked to him, he was rubbing his head, and his ears were pointing straight. “Anyway…uh…well…”

“What this pikachu-shaped bag of nerves is trying to say is that there’s more to the recruitment process,” ORB spoke on his behalf, which calmed Jermy. “When you’re not training with us at dawn, you’ll be working with us in a trash-cleaning job called the Pick-it Up Club. Not everyone there is a part of SEAS, and they don’t all know that you are from another world. We will help you with the cover story for the convenience of everyone involved.”

A cover story? “I can do that.”

Joey seemed more perturbed. “Weird…”

“Thanks, ORB. I think that about covers—” Jermy suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh! I almost forgot! I wanted to show you guys something!” Jermy suddenly marched off. ORB trailed him, snapping twigs and leaves with his wheel. “Leave the backpack, we’ll come back for it!”

Mathew, Joey, and Demurke followed Jermy and ORB closely. As they moved, the ground below them got steeper and steeper and steeper. The beach gave way to a cliffside that kept growing with them, until they were high above the ocean. The exhausted Mathew was just short of complaining when the trees cleared, and that thought eroded away.

When the cubone had learned he was venturing to a world of pokémon, he pictured quiet villages with cute little huts and sparse populations. Mathew couldn’t have been more wrong. The cliffside gave way to a circular outcove populated by bright neon signs and busy dirt-trodden streets. Brick buildings with steel roofs gleaned the light of the sun towards his eyes. It was a big gorgeous town confined by rock walls on all sides. Modest houses populated the top of the cliffside at the alcove’s crown, tethered to the world below by the wires of a gondola lift.

“Holy shit…” Mathew couldn’t bring any meaningful commentary — the only adjective he had to describe the view was ‘beautiful.’ Joey was with him, gawking in silence.

“Right?!” Jermy exclaimed. He got in front of them and gestured an arm towards the town. “Welcome to Kalmwa’er!”

“It really is a b-beautiful place, isn’t it…?” Demurke said. “A-And this is just the beginning.”

Mathew kept his eyes on Kalmwa’er. If this was the site of his training, he could only imagine what other sights Solceus had in store after he fulfilled his obligations. Frankly, he was content with stopping here — this seemed like the town of his dreams.

…Well, now that he said that… There was one thing that stuck out to him.

At Kalmwa’er’s front, bordering its beach, was a pillar of a building, painted with a pale color resembling a shade of skin. It easily towered over the rest of the town — at five or six stories, it was almost equal in height to the cliffs. There was a sign plastered upon it that read Kalmwa’er Resort: Your NEW home for all things Kalmwa’er! Clearly it was some kind of hotel, which made sense — who wouldn’t want to cash in on tourism? — but something about the building gave him an odd feeling. He wanted to say it was just because it was so tall, but it felt like there was something more.

Joey had taken notice of the small skyscraper, too. “Jermy, what’s that building over there?”

“Oh, that’s where we’re going: Kalmwa’er Resort,” Jermy explained. “The Pick-it Up Club’s run by the owner, one of our business partners.”

“Why is it so…” Mathew asked almost absentmindedly.

“Unfortunately whoever was in charge of decoration has no marketing sense. Neon and the beach would have stuck together as well as your peanut butter sandwich,” ORB pointed out.

“Oh! That’s it!” Mathew almost mask-palmed at the realization. How had he missed the absence of neon? “It must look really ugly at night.” Quickly the strange thought faded away. It was just a sign. There was nothing to worry about! All that was in the way of paradise was a paradise in itself.

This was going to be great. Mathew could feel it.

And since when had his feelings ever led him astray?

Chapter 3: Strange and Strangers

Chapter 2: Strange and Strangers

As the gray cat eyed the medical kit in his paws, he wondered how, exactly, he had ended up like this. He had spent his whole life readying to become a doctor, or a nurse, or perhaps even a counselor. Now he found himself as a mystery dungeon’s janitor, pestered by a fifteen year-old girl.

“Come on, dude!” his minccino coworker donned in a faded yellow scarf and bycocket hat, Minichino, cried. The gray chinchilla was carrying three blue satchels, all of which were heavier than his. “If you took one, we’d get these filled up in no time!”

“I’m not going to do Demurke and Jermy’s jobs for them while they’re gone,” Meowth bluntly replied.

Minichino groaned. “Then could you at least work on your own, Meowth? We’re kind of on a time limit here!”

“I know.” He defiantly picked up a plastic bottle sitting atop the brush and shoved it into his satchel with a little too much force. It was still hardly half-full.

“Should lay off him a bit, Minichino.” Politoed had been watching them bicker as he scanned the floor for trash. The green frog, taller than both of them, was fiddling with the antique crown atop his head. “From the sound of it, he could come back with an empty satchel and Mr. Persian wouldn’t care.”

Meowth couldn’t exactly disagree, only offering Politoed a grunt and a shrug. About a month ago, his father had come to his little apartment’s front door with an offer: a comfy condo in the nicest part of town in exchange for providing medical services to his ‘Pick-it Up Club’ for low pay. Everyone else in the Club was here on their own initiative — only Meowth had been roped in by Mr. Persian. They all knew this.

“You know, I’m not even against Per keeping a doctor on-hand in case we run into a dungeon pokémon that’s too much to handle.” Thwack! The tree branch shook and rustled in response to Breloom’s successful high kick. The kangaroo with a mushroom cap for a head stuck the landing with her stretchy limbs, then looked to Meowth with eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow. Two gems at her neck glinted from the sun piercing the layer of leaves. One was a pink crystal embedded into a medallion — the other, a smooth sky-blue stone holding together a violet cape that draped down her back. “But if you really don’t like the job, ‘Owth, that medical license of yours could get you somewhere more important to you.”

And it’d get you out of the picture so you’d stop bringing the mood down. Breloom didn’t say that part, but she didn’t need to. Meowth knew.

“Sorry, I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Suit yourself, I guess,” Politoed commented with an air of disappointment. The gleam of his own matching crystal medallion kept getting into Meowth’s eyes.

Minichino, taking Politoed’s advice, turned her attention away from him and towards her own work. “Well, if we’re not gonna clean up for them, that just means I’ll have to go find where they ran off to and give them back!” She promptly marched into the woods, beckoning for the rest of them to follow.

Meowth didn’t mind using this as a distraction from the prior conversation. They didn’t understand that this really was important. Until he had shown up on his doorstep last month, Meowth hadn’t seen his father in six years — not since he sent him off to dorm life when he was thirteen. The only bits of contact he had was the occasional visit from his assistant, Demurke.

This whole ‘Pick-it Up Club’ thing had been suspicious from the moment Mr. Persian mentioned it. He never took his father the environmentalist type, and even if he was, it didn’t explain why he chose now, of all times, to talk to him again. There was only one explanation that made sense: Mr. Persian wanted something from him, beyond just his occupation. Meowth wanted to know why. So, he agreed to his father’s game.

When he had noticed Jermy in the resort lobby this morning, Meowth had known today was the day he’d beat him at it.

Mr. Persian and Demurke had made a hasty entrance to the lobby of Kalmwa’er Resort, their usual meeting spot where they planned the workday. This time, however, a pikachu Meowth wasn’t familiar with had been with them. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you all to Jermy,” his father had said. “He’s a representative from a company sponsoring the resort, and he’ll be joining the Club starting today!”

“Heck yeah!” Minichino had cheered. “The more members, the better!”

Breloom crouched down, looking at the green robot accompanying the pikachu. “Who’s the funny-looking magnemite?”

“I am the Observational Recreation Buddy, abbreviated ORB, version 5.1,” it had said. “I am not a pokémon, but a robot.”

“He’s mine!” Jermy had said. “I built him myself.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You made them?!” Minchino had run up to Jermy with an eager expression. “That’s so cool!”

And so bizarre. Meowth hadn’t seen anything like this before. An autonomous machine…where did this pikachu learn to build that kind of technology?

“Said he works for one of your sponsors, right? What brings him here?” Politoed had asked.

“Oh!” Mr. Persian had taken a second to answer that question. “They have a ‘goodwill program’ where employees are sent out to help the local community. Apparently, we might even see more new members come from that. They think the Club is a good fit!”

That was when it happened. His father’s face had risen into a hollowly charismatic grin. When Meowth saw that performative smile, he knew he needed to keep a close eye on Jermy. When Meowth was little, that was the face he made when he was lying.

Speaking of Jermy, it seemed like the four of them were approaching him, ORB, and Demurke. Meowth heard the distant rustling of leaves scuffing of dirt. They were nearby — and it didn’t sound like they were alone.

“This is really your first time?” a voice said, low-pitched and loud.

“I reckon that we ain’t gonna be the easiest to teach,” another voice said, youthful and nasally.

“Yeah, I’m new to all this.” That was Jermy. “David usually has me throwing my noggin at other things, but you guys are pretty different. You’ll need somebody like me around!”

The voices and noises were getting closer. Teaching them… What did that mean? Who were these strangers?

“And n-no worries, Joey!” Meowth could see the group walking together now. Demurke was addressing a cubone and a totodile carrying an oversized backpack. “You and Mathew have me! I-I’ve done this whole recruitment thing a…few times before, so I know a thing or t-two.”

“You also have me, a catalog of information,” ORB said. “On that note, here’s a pretty obvious rule number zero…” Suddenly, he whirled around to face Meowth and the others as they approached from the side. “Don’t get snuck up on this easily.”

“Hey, we’re not sneaking!” Minichino exclaimed. Meowth was amused by the denial — by not saying a word, they gave him a chance to sneak a listen. “I was gonna give you your satchels back, but now I wanna know who the heck these two are.”

“It’s Mathew Walker. I’m a master engineer and marketer.” The cubone set the backpack aside and put a hand in front of Minichino. “You’re Minichino, right? Demurke told me that you’re the co-owner of the Club.”

“Yep! That’s me!” Minichino bowed to him.

Slowly, Mathew rescinded his hand and bowed back. “You sound a little young to be running a business…”

Minichino flashed him a cheeky grin. “Why yes, yes I am!”

Already, Meowth found this stranger suspect. He had a second name and seemed confused when Minichino greeted her. Wherever he came from, it had a strange culture.

“And you’d be…?”

Meowth hadn’t realized Mathew was prompting him. “It’s just Meowth.”

“Huh.”

That was a pretty lame greeting, he was probably thinking, based on the way he looked at him. Meowth really didn’t have more to say.

“Howdy, Minichino, howdy, Meowth, and — oh!” The totodile gave a hasty bow. “Uh, howdy, your Highness!”

“Highness?” Politoed looked at him curiously before remembering what he wore on his head. “Oh, no. I’m no prince.”

“Hah? Why do you wear a crown, then?”

“Just an heirloom. Called a King’s Rock.” He tapped the crown on his head. “An antique before they made crowns in gold. See?”

Politoed immediately nudged the King’s Rock back into place. I care about my crown immensely, though — I’m just being modest, he was surely thinking right now.

“Huh,” Joey remarked. “If I can’t call you your Highness, what’s your name, then?”

“Just Politoed is fine.”

Rather than address the two strangers, Breloom approached Jermy. “So are you gonna explain what’s going on here, Jer, or you gonna keep teasing us?”

“Yeah, I can explain!” Jermy said. “See, Mathew and Joey here are actually new members to the company, working in an office down in Cosaline. To get them started, we’re having them help here in Kalmwa’er. The whole reason I joined you guys was so that I could come meet them as soon as they were close to town!”

“Wow! That goodwill program’s really coming in clutch!” Minichino exclaimed.

Was she seriously entertaining this? This story sounded absurd. Meowth supposed the part about Mathew and Joey could be true, but Jermy went into a mystery dungeon with the Club just to meet them early? There was no reason he needed to do that.

“Cosaline, huh? Sounds like you had a long trip,” Breloom remarked. She took it upon herself to pick up the big backpack. Surprisingly, she could handle it alone. “I’ll carry this for you, yeah?”

Joey beamed at Breloom. “Thanks, Mrs. Mushroom!”

Breloom stifled a laugh, mouthing ‘Mrs. Mushroom’ to herself. “You can drop the Mrs. I don’t have a kid…yet.” She wrapped an arm around Politoed. “Just call me Breloom, Joe.”

The blushing Politoed struggled to pull himself away. “So, how is Cosaline?”

“Pretty good!” Mathew was quick to answer. “They just finished construction on a statue in the center of town. Really livens up the place, you know?”

Meowth had been keeping up with the news on Cosaline. They did build a statue there recently, but why was the first thing he mentioned not… “What about the fire?”

The wide-eyed look Mathew gave him said a thousand words. “Come again?”

“...The fire in town that nearly burned it down last week?” Politoed raised a brow, looking curious. “Got news on it over here, too. Good thing Count Spinarak’s image wasn’t melted…”

“Yeah!” Mathew whipped back to Politoed, looking relieved. “It was a good thing that didn’t happen. It looks so nice now!”

Him simply going along with what Politoed told him confirmed it for Meowth. These two definitely weren’t from Cosaline. Where were they from, then? Why lie?

“I hate to break up the fun,” ORB said, “but you all should probably go back to the Resort. All of these nerds need to actually sign up for the job.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” As Minichino handed Demurke and Jermy their satchels back, she sounded almost disappointed. “It’s almost noon, anyway. We gotta get out of here before the mystery dungeon shifts.”

“What’s a mys—?”

Demurke tapped Joey with a talon, which made him go quiet. None of them addressed it, but based on Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom’s nervous demeanors, all of them heard it.

As they walked in silence, Meowth could hardly take his eyes off Joey. Not when they reached the edge of town…not when they stopped to deliver all the trash to the dump…especially not when they were all tightly crammed inside the gondola car taking them to the lower part of Kalmwa’er.

What’s a mystery dungeon. How could somebody not know what a mystery dungeon is? They surrounded civilization on all sides in every part of the world. Those who were that clueless were the kind of people that became dungeon pokémon — their strange, easy-to-agitate inhabitants. Meowth tried to wrap his head around it, but he couldn’t find any way for Joey to not at least get the picture from mentioning the shift.

That settled it. Meowth didn’t know who or what they were, but Mathew and Joey were not normal pokémon. Whatever his father had wanted from him, he was certain these two were the key to it. All he had to do was find a way to pull the answers out of them.

It didn’t take long for them to stand in the shadow of Mr. Persian’s creation. Glass door slid apart to lead them into the lobby. In the front, finished wood flooring, bean bag chairs arranged in circles, and a large fan hung from the ceiling to give a cozy atmosphere. In the back, black and white tiling and a chandelier illuminated a fancier space with a high-class feel. There was something for everyone here — except Meowth, who found it to all feel fake.

“Here we are,” Breloom remarked as she set the backpack down in a chair.

“Ah, welcome back!” Right in front of them, standing just ahead of the reception desk, was his father, As he approached, Meowth noticed Mathew fiddle with his tie, seemingly reminded by the purple bowtie his father always wore. “I assume the workday went as smoothly as ever?”

“Yepperoni!” Jermy answered before gesturing to Mathew and Joey. “And we met up with these two, just as planned.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Persian briefly scanned over the cubone and totodile, then bowed. “It’s a pleasure to properly meet you both. I’d be glad to hand you three job contracts right away, but my office is kind of a mess at the moment… I’m afraid that I’m not sure where I put my blank copies.”

“An unclean office?!” Minichino cried. “This sounds like a job for me!” She was already storming into the Resort.

“Minichino, you don’t have to…!” Mr. Persian sighed. “Sorry about this. Could you wait here?”

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” Meowth tossed himself into an open chair. When he landed, Mr. Persian stared at him, head tilted.

“Don’t w-worry, Mr. Persian.” Demurke lightly patted Mr. Persian’s back, bringing him back to attention. “I’ll help, too!”

Mr. Persian turned to her, looking grateful. “Thank you, Demurke,” Mr. Persian said as they walked off. “You’re always such a good help.”

Looking up at him, Meowth wanted to spit in his father’s face. What was all this? Demurke only helped him because it was her job, and Minichino only helped him because it was her passion. What was Mr. Persian achieving, making him think these were grand gestures? That he had somehow changed? He hadn’t changed at all. His only friends were his most loyal employees.

“Good luck finding those papers!” Jermy called out. “Boy, I remember when I would lose papers before I had ORB to remember where I put them for me. Let’s hope he can find them faster than I could…”

---

It had been a long ten minutes. Meowth and the others had been sitting idle for long enough that his tail was falling asleep. Surely the three of them together could have found those papers faster… What was holding them up?

Breloom eyed the clock hanging over the entrance. “Geez. If Per’s room is this bad, no wonder he needs Dem.”

“Well, what did you expect?” To be honest, Meowth was asking both Breloom and himself. Mr. Persian’s actual office was a mystery to him. He always conducted business matters for the Club in other empty offices and meeting rooms around the resort. There were a lot of those.

“Dunno.” Politoed was deeper into his beanbag chair than Meowth was, getting a good view of the ceiling. “Definitely making me wish I brought a radio or something. Can’t pass time doing nothing like you can.”

Got a lot of practice wasting your time, Politoed was telling himself. Meowth just tried to ignore it.

“You guys want music?” Jermy hopped out of his chair. “Well, I know a certain robot that can solve that!”

“ORB can play music?” Mathew sounded impressed.

“I hope he means me,” ORB said. “If he made more of me, I’d sue for neglect.”

“What are y’all waiting for then?!” Joey exclaimed. “Play something nice.”

“Fine. Now playing: Wilting Woes instrumental, by Dula Steppinbeech.”

Dula Steppinbeech? What kind of name was that? For that matter, what kind of music was this? It sounded terrible.

Somehow, Mathew was bopping his head to it. “Oh, hell yeah, harmon-pop!”

“More like harmon-my ears,” Meowth mumbled, pawing at them. “What is that lead instrument?”

“It’s…a harmonica.” Mathew looked uncertain, but he spoke with confidence. “It’s a new trendy thing in Cosaline.”

“Huh. I’m gonna have to visit Cosaline at some point. They got something going on there…” Breloom was already flexing her claws, plucking an air guitar to feel out the song’s bassline. Meowth had learned years ago that neither Breloom nor Politoed were to type to sit still when there was music in the air. It was annoying.

He instead began studying the stranger. That cubone, smiling at Breloom’s fake-playing, recognized this genre before either of the couple did. Those two were music nuts. How could they not have heard about a new genre growing in a town this close to Kalmwa’er? Unless—

“So tired of waiting, for something new to come…”

Of course. He was finally coming to a revelation, and here Politoed comes, crashing his train of thought!

“They’re tired of hiding, there’s nowhere else to run…” Either Politoed couldn’t see him see him sending annoyed glares, or he was ignoring him. It was probably the latter.

“Huh, nice improv.” Mathew shut his eyes, waiting for a moment to strike himself. “I see songbirds in green, two golden gleams — la la la-la, la la la-laaa…”

Meowth sunk deeper into his chair. He wanted to shut both of them up, especially the out-of-rhythm stranger, but he didn’t have the guts — not while people were watching.

Politoed, on the other hand, seemed to welcome his challenge. “Not bad for a newbie. Lots of room for improvement, though.”

“Newbie?!” Mathew sprung out of his chair. “Buddy, I’ve been practicing longer than you’ve probably been alive. I’m just rusty, is all. Usually, I’m the one strumming…” That remark made Breloom perk up in interest. “If I was more ready, I’d make up lyrics a shit-ton better than yours!”

“Quite a big challenge you’re making there.” Politoed looked amused as he rose to his feet. “Think you can back it up?”

Mathew was unfazed. “Oh, I know I can.”

Before Meowth knew it, ORB had started the track over, and the two singers were standing across from each other. The cubone straightened up, while Politoed slouched down. Meowth was close to burying himself in his own chair out of embarrassment. “You have to be kidding me…”

“I’ve banked on chance, I got nothing left to lose.” Mathew brought the blunt end of his club close to his mouth, using it as a makeshift microphone. “Your kingliness, I don’t get to pick and choose.”

“You’d change your tune if you saw the things I’ve seen. (You saw the things I’ve seen, yeah.)” Politoed’s singing voice, as always, was controlled, clean but not overpowering. “That cracked mask blinds you just like a muddied screen!”

“Frogger, don’t act like I’ve got innocence, I’m older than you know.” Mathew’s singing voice, on the other hand, was voluminous but shaky. It was obvious he hadn’t practiced recently now that he had reached the point in the song he had improvised last time.

“It seems for all that talk and all that walk, you’ve got so far to go!” As Wilting Woes barreled into the chorus, Politoed took notice that they had attracted a small crowd. That seemed to embolden him.

“Set your crowned ass right down, ‘cause you have lots to learn,” Mathew sang. “Torching up all that pride will be one big slow burn.”

“Dance in your masquerade, I can’t be one to judge,” Politoed fired back. “Just know I think you’ll end up deep within the sludge!”

The song put an end to the chorus. The harmonica paused to give the guitar a solo, one Breloom made the most of. During the break, the crowd gave Mathew and Politoed a modest applause. Joey and Jermy clapped with them.

Meowth couldn’t understand their enthusiasm. He, for one, hadn’t cringed more times consecutively in years. Politoed he understood, but did this cubone have no sense of shame? If this is what he meant by ‘marketer’, he wasn’t sure if he was a fan.

“Thanks much!” Politoed said before turning to the current and future Club members. “Got an opinion on which one of us did better?”

“Oh yeah, we never actually picked a judge, did we?” Mathew asked.

Meowth propped himself up in his seat. “If you’re looking for a judge, you’ll have one when my father comes back and gets upset with you for making a scene.”

“And there’s the fun police.” Breloom gave up the air guitar. “I had a sneaking feeling they’d show up eventually.”

“Oh, lighten up a little. You know he’s not gonna be mad, right?” He turned back to Mathew. “Got a candidate for a judge in Meowth. Certainly does a great job figuring out which things he doesn’t like.”

“It’s less about me not liking it and more about you two making a mockery of yourselves in public.” He gestured to the dissolving crowd. Recognizing that the moment had passed, ORB’s music cut out.

“Trust me, this isn’t even close to the most embarrassing thing I’ve done.” Mathew flipped his bone club over. “The more times you let yourself be weird, the easier it gets. You should really try it!”

Meowth just sighed. He couldn’t deny that Mathew had given him sound advice, but that didn’t mean that he liked it.

“Don’t expect too much from him.” Politoed straightened up his crown. “Me, Breloom, and Meowth used to room together in Higher Ed. Try as we might, him and ‘fun’ just don’t go together very well.”

And so the seed was planted. Now that Mathew understood his history, he would soon grow to detest Meowth just as much as everyone else. No point trying to prevent it from happening — if somebody else didn’t do it, he’d eventually plant the seed himself, intentionally or otherwise. That was just how things were.

“Anyways, good work, both of you. Have to say though, you have some…original lines, Math.” Breloom put a claw to the bottom tip of her mouth. “What’s ‘crowned ass’ mean to you, by the by?”

Mathew was flustered by the question. “It…uh…means donkey. I was calling you king of the donkeys.”

“Me, dirt-ridden like a busy mudbray? Now I see the insult.” Politoed nodded in approval. “Clever! A real talented one, Mathew. Where’d you learn so much about songcraft?”

“Nowhere in particular.” Mathew was quick to shut down the subject, his tone suddenly drained of that curiosity it held before. Meowth couldn’t help but wonder why.

“We’re back!” Minichino interrupted Politoed’s chance to ask more questions. Mr. Persian and Demurke were with her, the latter of whom was carrying a stack of papers.

“I’m so sorry for the delay,” Mr. Persian said with an apologetic tone. “I didn’t anticipate finding those sheets would be such a hassle…”

“Did we m-miss anything interesting?” Demurke asked.

Mathew and Politoed passed looks to each other. “We wasted some time having fun and that’s about it,” the cubone explained. “Are we getting hired now?”

Mr. Persian smacked his front paws on the floor eagerly. “Absolutely!” He turned himself around. “Follow me.”

Mr. Persian led them deeper into the resort. Although the fancier side of the lobby had a more elegant appearance from afar, it wasn’t all that different upon closer inspection. Chairs still lined the walls, and a wooden walkway cut through the tile in the hallways. As they walked, they passed by a glass wall presenting a room with treadmills and weights for bipeds and quadrupeds alike. For some reason, Jermy’s gait became more stiff as they walked by the fitness room.

Soon enough, they arrived at a small, generic office space. A number of bean bag chairs were splayed out in front of a mahogany desk. The green walls were lined with picture frames holding quality photos of people Meowth didn’t recognize. Two clear windows, facing a pool in the back of the resort, brought in rays of warm light. It was one of those rooms that felt like home, until he tried to sink his paws in the carpet floor and found it wasn’t actually cushiony at all — a reminder that this was business space, and the home he was thinking of was just a distant memory.

That was where they all gathered to watch as Mr. Persian signed this trio of strangers into their lives.

“Now that you’ve been welcomed to the Club, we have one more matter to discuss.” Mr. Persian leaned in slightly. “The matter of living accommodations. As part of our sponsor’s program, I’m going to provide you three with a room on the top floor.”

“Top floor, huh? Nice.” Mathew seemed to approve, if only mildly.

Meowth kept eyeing his father from his seat. So that was his place in this supposed program? Providing a room in the resort? He supposed it made sense on the surface, but knowing just how unusual these strangers were, he kept looking for a deeper reading.

“Sounds like you all are gonna be living in style,” Breloom remarked.

Mr. Persian nodded. “That’s right! They’ll meet all sorts of esteemed guests, too.” He reached a paw out to dip his claws in more ink to pen with.

The two of them locked eyes. Meowth could see his face clearly as he agreed with Breloom.

That smile. That stupid smile. Taunting him. Telling Meowth, I’m slipping this master plan right past you and you don’t even know.

Meowth had to stop this.

He stepped in between Mr. Persian and the Club members. “I have a better idea.” He peered at Mr. Persian. “Recently, Mr. Persian offered me a condo to stay in for the next few months. He’s already paying for it, and it’s a little bit large for one person to live in. Wouldn’t it be better if you lived in the condo with me instead of cramming into one small room?”

“What?!” Minichino gawked and Demurke flapped her wings, both taken aback by Meowth’s offer at the same time. The rest of the room seemed stunned into silence — besides the people he was selling this on.

“How big are we talking?” Mathew asked. “Does it still have a view?”

Interest. There was the momentum he needed. “It’s towards the edge of the cliff, and there’s a big glass window, so you can see the sunset on the ocean each day,” Meowth began to explain. “I have enough spare rooms to fit all three of you. You would have a commute to the Club each morning, but in exchange, you can use the kitchen and not have to share beds.”

There was a pause…and then Joey looked to Jermy. “That’s a pretty good bargain… Would it be a big deal if we did it?”

Jermy was at a complete loss. “I…don’t…think so?”

ORB elected to save him. “The primary conflict would be more limited access to Club facilities. Aside from that, interference would be relatively limited.”

That seemed to be enough for Mathew. “We’ll do that, then.”

“Hang on a second,” Politoed said. “Remember what we talked about earlier. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Mathew listened to all this, nodding away, before answering Politoed’s question. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, you two, but I’ve literally just met Meowth. All I know about him is that he offered us a house for free. And what? You think it’s a bad idea because he’s a little bit of a buzzkill?”

“You want to see for yourself if he’s as bad as we say.” Politoed nodded. “Kind of get that. Just hope you don’t regret it, is all…”

Mr. Persian hadn’t said anything during their change of plans, but his panicked face said enough. “Excuse me.” He moved away from the desk. “Meowth, could we speak for a moment in private?”

Meowth shrugged. “Sure.”

Mr. Persian and Meowth vacated the office room, returning to the narrow hallway.

“Before I say anything, I want you to know that that was a very good pitch. That being said… What are you trying to do here, Meowth?!” He shrilly whispered.

“I’m taking matters into my own hands,” Meowth told him simply. “I’ve made my case and it sounds like they liked it.”

“Taking matters into your…?” He shook his head, padding around him. “Meowth, you don’t understand. I have to—“

“Make more money? I get it. It’s all you ever do these days.”

His father’s eyes widened in shock at the remark. The expression was gratifying. “When did you get that idea!?”

“Mr. Persian, sir!” Suddenly, Demurke shoved the door open and drove a wedge between them. “I… I think we should a-allow Meowth to take them in. That c-condo is nicer than the hotel rooms…” she nodded to herself, as if to assure herself of her own stance. “It wouldn’t be h-hard to work around them being a couple minutes away. Besides…it might be better for…”

Demurke refused to finish her sentence, but with the way she and Mr. Persian were sharing glances, she didn’t need to. Better for what?

Mr. Persian sighed. “I’m still not sure, but you have final say. I suppose you can take them, Meowth.”

“Thanks. They’ll be good help.” He turned around to open the door, leading the three of them back into the office to secure their place in his condo.

Behind him, his father mumbled a lament. “Meowth… What’s gotten into you?”

Meowth didn’t bother to entertain him with an answer.

---

“Here we are,” Meowth said, pushing the creaky door open. “Make yourselves at home.”

“Phew!” Mathew stumbled into the condo, hardly able to hold the backpack anymore. “Finally…”

In front of them was Meowth’s kitchen, a tighter space where a refrigerator and a pair of microwaves stood. Beyond that, the house opened up to a cozy living room with a couch and a television. The back wall was composed entirely of glass, giving a full view of the ocean and the rest of town below.

“Wow, this is real nice!” Experimenting, Joey walked around in the kitchen. At twice Meowth’s height, it was a little tight to navigate. When he looked to one of the counters, he paused. “Er… You have two microwaves?”

“One of them was a birthday gift, the other came with the condo,” Meowth explained. “Don’t question it.”

Jermy sighed. “I’m still not sure about this…”

“Didn’t you let this happen, Jermy?” ORB said.

“I did, I did…” Jermy conceded. “But only because I didn’t want to play the bad cop!”

“Come on…man!” Mathew exclaimed, dragging his backpack into the living room. “He gave this…to us…for free!” Meowth watched as Mathew paused and whirled his head around the living room. Branching off from the main living space, there were two rooms blocked by doors on the side walls, and a staircase on the right led up to more. “Hey Meowth, where can I settle down?” he asked after soaking it in.

“The room to the left is mine, and the right’s a supply closet. Take one of the three rooms upstairs.”

“Got it!” Mathew continued to lug his belongings to the corner, then slowly and steadily up the staircase. Meowth quickly slipped into the closet and grabbed a nest before giving chase.

The second floor was a smaller living room with a few proper Meowth-sized chairs, another television, and three doors, one at each wall. Meowth tailed Mathew as he struggled towards the door across from the back window. Three doorknobs awaited him: one his height, one slightly above Joey’s height, and one above that. Turning the one at his level turned them all.

The room Mathew had chosen was modestly sized, with orange walls and a dark wooden floor. The walls were lined with unremarkable white cabinets, and the side facing the neighborhood had two small windows which brought in a tolerable amount of light. To the left was another door, attached to a washroom. It wasn’t exactly an area Mathew would spend all his time in, but Meowth supposed it was better that way.

With one final tug, Mathew let the backpack stand. He absentmindedly began to unpack. “Hey Meowth, would you mind if—” Mathew stopped when he looked up.

“Yes?” Meowth asked.

“What the hell is that?” he pointed towards the disk-shaped conglomeration of strand and straw he was dragging behind him.

“I’m bringing a nest for your room. Sleeping on the floor isn’t very comfortable.”

“We’re...sleeping in nests.” Mathew’s expression went unread beneath his mask, but Meowth could guess what it looked like. “Do you sleep in a nest?”

“I do,” Meowth answered. “Do you not where you’re from?”

“Not at all.” The cubone stretched his arms. “But I guess I’m gonna have to get used to it. I need a nap…”

Meowth turned his back on Mathew to get nests for Joey and Jermy’s rooms. Yeah, you should get used to it, Mathew, he thought. You three need to get relaxed if I hope to learn anything from you…

Chapter 4: David Emmons

Chapter 3: David Emmons

Boy, was Jermy in over his head.

Although he had no issues with being kind and reassuring to the two new recruits on the outside, internally, he couldn’t help but worry. This was only his second day on the job, and already things were going awry, what with them housing under the roof of Mr. Persian’s kid. It was hard to tell if he had already screwed the pooch or not by allowing that.

At least they’d managed to arrive at the Resort for their first proper training session at a good time. Dawn had yet to break, so the usually bright and active lobby was left in a dark shade and an empty, desolate atmosphere. It was almost like a visage had broken, revealing the family-friendly hotel as some kind of monster trying to...eat them, or something.

Bah, it was always tough to form a cohesive thought this early in the morning. Jermy would think a decade’s worth of early wake-up calls would change his sleep patterns enough to make it no issue for him, but that’s not how this pikachu body rolled. At least he wasn’t alone. As they approached Demurke awaiting them in the lobby, Mathew and Joey looked equally groggy.

“Good morning…!” she greeted, sounding cheery as ever. “Did you sleep w-well?”

Joey stretched his arms out. “I reckon I’ve slept better. We’re up earlier than an early-bird rooster.”

“Better get used to it,” ORB said. “Between your Club work-day and adjustment period to Solcean life, this is the optimal hour to train you, assuming you go to bed early.” Jermy was lucky to have ORB by his side to speak for him. Robots don’t get tired.

“I dunno if we all did that.” Joey gestured to Mathew, who had already collapsed into a beanbag chair and started snoring. The totodile turned to Demurke. “Did y’all ever ask around about my mom and dad?”

There was a clear guilt in her eyes as she slowly nodded. “No…signs of them anywhere. I-I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Joey’s posture drooped. “That’s okay. I reckon I shouldn’t have expected much. At least Mathew’s let me keep that scrapbook… Thanks a bunch for trying, though.”

Jermy listened to all this with a frown on his face. It was one thing for them to have recruited somebody with their memories fully intact. It was a whole ‘nother thing for them to have also summoned a boy who just so happened to be familiar with him. Jermy wasn’t warned that anything like this could happen…how was he supposed to handle it?

At least he and Demurke would have some time to train the pair on their own before any of the higher-ups get a look at them. Maybe they could help iron out this—

“Wow, I can’t believe we’ve found a more sound sleeper than Jermy!”

Both he and Mathew lurched back as a big, brown, spotted wing grazed the cubone’s chest. If Jermy wasn’t awake before, he was now. “David! What the heck are you here for?!”

Even after all these years as pokémon, Jermy still wasn’t used to his boss towering over him in size. Although David’s eyes conveyed an air of excitement, it was hard to deny that the humanoid owl looked down on all of them. “This is Mathew’s first day of training! I couldn’t miss that! Plus, I’m sure you two could use the help today.”

Upon hearing their clear comradery, Mathew stopped reaching for his bone club laid down next to the chair. “Sorry…”

“Oh, don’t you worry your little head.” David reached down with his — Fingertips? Feathertips? Jermy settled on wingtips — and patted him on the mask. “The first days are never easy.”

“So, I reckon you’re a friend of Jermy?” Joey asked.

“I’m his boss!” David pulled at the lab-coat beneath his wings. “David Emmons, head of O—SEAS’ science division! Really putting the ‘Scientific’ in Scientific Excitement and…whatever the rest is.”

Jermy tried to hide his annoyance. Some sense of formality would be appreciated.

Mathew immediately straightened his posture and masked his tiredness. “Good morning, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed for the decidueye.

“I could say the same! Feels like I’ve been waiting for years.” David then turned to Joey. “And you must be the little Mr. Johdaile! Welcome aboard.”

“Uh, hi.” Joey’s bow was more hasty and less confident. “So you’re the fella who brought us here?”

“Oh, no, that’s not my division. You’ll meet them soon enough.” David peered at Demurke, and she nodded hastily. He double-checked that nobody was around before continuing. “Those blueprints of Mathew’s, however? That’s the pride and joy of my team!” He pumped an arm with vigor.

“Our team! We worked on it together,” Jermy specified.

“You worked on it?” Mathew sounded surprised. “Wow. What part of it?”

Jermy probably should have seen that question coming. His voice came out smaller than he meant it to. “Uh, a few firmware bits here and there, tightening up the design, and—”

“Jermy was the primary tester. He was literally the lab rat.”

Did ORB really have to roll up and say that?! Jermy grit his teeth. It didn’t paint the most flattering picture, he knew that. A better engineer surely would’ve been more involved with designing the thing—

“Holy shit, you were the tester?!” Mathew, to Jermy’s surprise, sounded floor. “That’s amazing! For something insane like the portal devices, I can only imagine how dangerous that was!”

Well, now Jermy felt a little bashful. He expected a gifted engineer like Mathew to rip into him for that. Of course, ORB knew better. He always did. It was the whole reason Jermy created him in the first place.

“Yes, yes, he was pretty small as a pichu,” David mumbled, more interested in the new faces. “Anyhow, how has Kalmwa’er Resort treated you? I’ve never spent a night myself, but word around the lab is that it’s pretty cozy!”

Jermy and Demurke both tensed up. David had no idea about the housing arrangement, and it looked like this was how he was going to find out.

“We didn’t?” Joey said. “Well, we were gonna sleep here, but we got an offer better than butter and batter.”

His spirited demeanor faltered a bit. “...Huh?”

“One of the regular Pick-it Up Club members offered us his condo to stay at,” Mathew explained. “Mr. Persian’s kid, actually.”

“Did he, now?” David’s eyes flicked to the recruiters with a sharp glare. “How interesting.” And just like that, he was back to chipper again. “I hope it’s a nice place! Now, we should probably get you to your training. Demurke, can you show Mathew and Joey the way to the Waregle? Jermy, ORB, and I will catch up after a quick talk outside.”

Demurke’s eyes widened. “O-Okay, sure!” She quickly ushered Mathew and Joey along.

“What the hell is a Waregle? Sounds like a horn that comes out at a full moon.” That was the last thing Jermy heard out of Mathew’s mouth. The decidueye, meanwhile, walked towards the sliding doors, gesturing him to follow with a wing.

Yep. Pooch screwed.

The moment the doors shut, Jermy mouth took off at a mile a minute. “Look, I know this doesn’t look good, but I swear I can explain why we — waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!”

Lodged tightly in David’s talons, the pikachu was abducted from the ground as the decidueye took flight. His heart thumped as they rose dozens of yards above Kalmwa’er, drifting farther from the resort as they got higher. The early morning bathed them in a darkness where they wouldn’t be seen hanging from the sky.

“Jermy, I know that you’re new at this, but come on!” David exclaimed, his voice just loud enough to carry past his own wingbeats. “Letting them house in one of the non-members’ homes? And Mr. Persian’s kin, no less!”

Jermy clutched David’s talon tightly, hoping to irritate him. This wasn’t an unusual method to isolate their conversation with, and it wasn’t like he’d ever drop him, but the least his boss could do was ask first before he gave him a balloon’s perspective of Kalmwa’er. “Hey, it’s not as bad as it looks! It’s a quick walk, it’s comfortable and convenient, it gets them bonding with co-workers…”

“That’s not what I’m bothered by, Jermy. Having an average Solcean in your living space leta them listen in on conversations about what we’re doing. That’s a huge risk!” David sounded exasperated, as if that should have been obvious. “Did they plan this behind your back? Surely you were there to step in.”

“Well, uh—”

“Meowth introduced the idea right in front of him.” ORB was clutched in David’s other talon. “ I could find no way to refuse his offer without raising suspicion.”

Gah, why did he have to say that now?! “I will turn you into scrap metal!”

“You can settle your score with Jiminy Cricket later.” David outstretched his leg, giving Jermy a better look at him. “Keep in mind that this is Mathew Walker we’re talking about. This recruitment needs to go smoothly.”

“I know that! I’m trying to make it smooth!” Jermy protested. “Demurke is on board with this, too! We can’t put them in the resort because…you know…Mathew would…” If he was talking to some other person, Jermy would be able to repeat Demurke’s point. But being in front of David — and suspended a few dozen yards in the air — really took the power out of his voice. How did he explain this to his boss in a convincing way?

David seemed curious. “Mathew would what?”

Jermy couldn’t get another stumbled word in before ORB piped up. “We have company.”

Oh, barnacles. Turned out David had drifted too close to the gondola wires as they argued. Five pokémon, illuminated in the dark by a lightbulb inside the gondola car, had front-row seats to their private conversations. Jermy had no idea if they had been able to hear them past that glass.

“Boys, circus maneuver,” David muttered, rearing his head back.

Geez, it’d been a long time since they’d done that. Hurriedly, Jermy scuttled up David’s body and precariously balanced atop his beak. He wobbled a bit, but found his balance in time. The two of them spun in opposite directions. The decidueye pointed ORB straight down at the ground, making them into a stack of three.

The performance left the audience in the gondola car bewildered but amused, prompting both wide-eyed stares and a mild applause from one or two of them. It was an embarrassing display, but the strangers were more likely to remember this than anything they overheard, so it would have to do.

As soon as the car had fully passed them, Jermy tilted over and collapsed into David’s shoulder. His boss accepted his new position, tossing ORB up to cling to his other shoulder. He glided back towards the resort. “So, what was that you were saying?”

“I’ll save him the effort,” ORB cut in. “Demurke pointed out that housing Mathew under our typical property makes it exponentially more likely that they will meet. None of us are prepared for that to happen yet.”

Jermy was close enough to see David’s eyes widen. “Oh. That’s…a good point. I hadn’t considered that.”

“Exactly.” Jermy sighed. That was what he was planning to say in the first place, yet it felt like David would have been more upset if he had been the one to say it.

“So we’re facing a risk either way, then? Demurke has more practice doing this than me, so I’ll trust her judgment. Keep them where they are right now. Once we help them get fully initiated…” David’s gaze sharpened as he looked dead ahead. “Then we’ll deal with that.”

Jermy had no objections to that plan, but it still made him nervous. Could they really bumble around all of these potential pitfalls? They had to try, at least. And that meant they had to prove their readiness as soon as possible. “We should probably go catch up with them. Can you please put me and ORB down now?”

“The correct ordering is ‘ORB and me,’” ORB said. “I’m offended that you would put yourself first.”

“Hey, you’re the one that’s fixable if you splatter all over the lower class! I have bones!”

“Don’t get cocky now,” David said as he glided down. “I’m pretty sure I could fix both of you.”

David slowly landed at the side of the Resort, allowing Jermy to leap from David’s talon with ORB in tow. They briskly walked through the quiet resort lobby and arrived at resort’s fitness. Weights, barbells, exercise balls, and sweat towels were hung from displays, and treadmills for all shapes and sizes lined the wall. This wasn’t their destination though — that would be the door in the corner with an “Authorized personnel only” sign plastered on it. Demurke had been kind enough to leave it cracked open for them.

Past the door was a long staircase winding around an open shaft for the resort’s secret elevator. This shaft was the core of the entire building, and non-employees were none the wiser to its existence. Along the staircase, there were doors to service rooms on each of the floors, but the elevator only went to three places: here, the ground floor; up, to a room very close to Mr. Persian’s office; and down. Far, far more down than any average pokémon would think to dig.

David pressed a button, and for the next minute, little creaks and whirs echoed through the shaft. When Jermy grabbed the railing, he could feel it vibrate. It sounded like it should be dangerous, but Jermy knew most of the people who designed and worked on the thing. It was safe, as long as it was well-maintenanced.

Still, the thought of it failing and crashing all the way down to the bottom made Jermy shudder. Yeesh.

The cab itself was tall enough to fit most anybody inside, but the wideness left much to be desired. Any more than four people in here at a time and it’d be awfully uncomfortable. It was a good thing he, David, and ORB had gone separately from the others.

Another minute silently passed. The cab’s descent was long, but uneventful. It wasn’t long until they arrived where Mr. Persian’s work ended and theirs began.

After spending a day taking in the salty air of Kalmwa’er, it was hard for Jermy to go back to the striking scent of chlorine that filled the entire space. Ahead of them was the massive training area housed beneath the Resort. A sprawling maze of colorful platforms, wires, walls, and slides dangled from powerful cables attached to the ceilings, creating a floating obstacle course suspended over a deep pool. Bars for climbers, hoops for flyers, dummies for punchers, balls for kickers…the pool was even surrounded by patches of dirt for burrowers. It was one of the most popular places under their banner that wasn’t a direct base of operations. The echoing roar of pokémon playing, sparring, and practicing drowned out the sound of David’s voice.

It was designed like a jungle gym in a space as big as a warehouse — hence, the Waregle.

Demurke, Mathew, and Joey were waiting for them in the side room where the portals to the other facilities were housed. Mathew was standing amazed before an active portal to the ice palace. A frigid draft blew in from it, making Jermy shiver. The cubone took one step through, putting himself in two places at once. “Wow, this is like something straight out of Portal 3.”

Joey, perplexed, looked down the row of portal frames. “There’s a bunch more than three portals here though?”

“Isn’t it neat?!” David raised his voice so all of them could here. “Portals between two places in the same world are more instant than cross-world trips! Less expensive to maintain, too.”

“Easier than…flying here from home, th-that’s for sure!” Demurke gestured to an older-looking portal labeled “Fascamile Town Hall — NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION. ENDPOINT GUARDED 24/7.”

Mathew hopped out of the portal, looking eager. “God, I am going to enjoy working here…” Demurke closed the portal behind him, letting the room heat up again.

“Well, if you want to so badly, then we better get you trained up for it!” Jermy encouraged before urging David to lead them into the facility.

Before they could go in, they had to stop by a desk to sign in. They liked to keep track of who used the Waregle, so there was always somebody there to mark who comes in and when they come out. Today, it was their local little sea otter with twin tails and a flotation sac for a collar. “Wow, big-named crowd here,” Zack remarked as he dipped a flipper in ink. “David, Jermy, Demurke…” the buizel frowned at ORB. “Do I count robots?”

“I wouldn’t risk it.”

He blinked. “ORB, and…” he peered at the two curiously. “New recruits, eh?”

“That’s right!” David draped a wing over them, as if to give them a dramatic air. “Zackary, meet Mathew and Joey. Mathew and Joey, meet Zackary.”

“Mathew, huh…” The longer Zack stared at the cubone, the more nervous Jermy got. Mathew seemed to think nothing of it. “Well, glad to welcome you both. Have fun!” He scribbled down both of their names and let them through.

They walked along the edge of the pool, leaving behind foot, talon, and wheel tracks in the dirt. The two recruits were looking this way and that, taking in the Waregle. Mathew seemed particularly mesmerized by the other workers. A spiny cacnea soared through a hoop high above them on a chair with a propeller that spun itself. When a scrawny tyrogue threw a punch at a nearby training dummy, their boxing gloves hardened into metal. A sprawny belsprout burst from the ground, propelled by a roaring drill. Jermy remembered when he was that amazed by what Solceus had to offer — good times.

Mathew came up to David as they walked. “Did the science division create all of the tools everyone’s carrying around? These all seem stronger than anything you could make on Earth.”

“Well, we can’t take all of the credit,” David said. “A lot of them are just a random objects imbued with type stones.”

“Type stones?”

“Right, you don’t know what those are.” David raised a wing and redirected their walk towards one of the walls, where a bunch of their random junk had been stacked up for exactly this purpose. “Come here, I’ll show you! Demurke, could you fetch one for me?”

“O-on it, sir!” Demurke flew off. When she returned a minute later, she was carrying a bright green stone and a piece of chalk. David had settled on an aged bugle horn that was sitting atop the pile. The two dropped the stone and the horn on the floor. The murkrow wasted no time sketching around David, forming a smooth circle surrounded by two arcs connected to it by an X shape.

Since the two of them were busy, that left it up to Jermy to explain all this to Mathew and Joey. “Alright, you two! What Demurke’s chalking up over there is a—”

“This is a Gate!” Oh, okay, David didn’t need Jermy’s help after all. The pikachu tried not to roll his eyes. “It allows Solceans to tap into the energy of the world as provided by its creator.” The decidueye held up the green stone. “And this is a type stone. It’s a powerful mineral formed here on Solceus that holds the energy of one type, particularly grass. If I was a dartrix and I cracked this open, absorbing its energy would trigger my evolution into a decidueye! But using this Gate, we can do so much more…!”

He squatted down, put his wings on the chalk outline, and closed his eyes in focus. As the Gate emitted a white glow, green energy poured out of the graying stone and flowed into the horn. Slowly, leaves began to sprout from the brass, populating the inside. Without skipping a beat, David eagerly picked up the horn and blew into it. A torrent of sharp leaves shot into the air, then floated back down harmlessly.

“Woah!” There was a sparkle in Mathew’s eye. Jermy could recognize it from a mile away — it was the look of a creator realizing the world of possibility that had just opened up to them. Not a big shocker. That’s what Jermy knew him for.

“A powerful and useful weapon, and all it takes is a stone, chalk, and your imagination. It’s a field of science straight out of fantasy!” He eagerly held the horn up, marveling in it. “Now you understand why I’m so enamored by what Solceus—”

“Why are y’all making weapons?”

Joey took the wind right out of his sails. “...Huh?” David dropped the horn.

“You called that thing a powerful weapon,” the disquieted totodile said. “I reckon all those other doodads are supposed to be weapons, too. I thought we were getting hired into some world-saving engineering job…”

If looks could kill, Jermy would have been cut into a dozen pieces by the glare in David’s eye. Sparks danced along the arm out of the recruits’ view. “You didn’t tell them?” The anger in his voice was mostly concealed.

Demurke burst into panic. “O-Oh gosh, they didn’t know?! I-I’m sorry, I thought because M-Mathew had his memories he would’ve known, a-and Joey would’ve h-heard from—”

A pat on the hat from David quieted her down. She shrunk down in shame, but he paid her no mind. The only one he was expressing his irritation towards was Jermy.

Well, isn’t this just groovy.

“Sorry. It slipped my mind.” He shot a glance at ORB, begging for a better way out of this conversation.

“We were operating on a tight time schedule,” ORB explained. “Between the wingull attack, returning to the Club, and resting with Meowth, there was no good time to establish everything in detail.”

David squinted his eyes and shook his head, but he seemed more concerned with addressing the recruits. “Yes, Mathew was brought here for an engineering job, and you, Joey, were brought here to support us in whatever way you can. But the actual purpose of your engineering and your support…is warfare.”

Joey’s maw slipped open so quickly, Jermy was surprised it didn’t snap off. “What?!”

Mathew just gave another sweeping look at the weapon-wielding members in intrigue. “What kind of warfare?”

“That, I can’t tell you until you become official members. If regular Solceans found out what our ambitions were, it would create a pandemonium. We need to know we can trust you first.” David clenched a wing-hand. “But I promise you, we really are trying to save the world here… Both worlds. That’s why we’re recruiting from Earth at such an urgent pace, even at the cost of memories — we’re going to need all the help we can get, wherever we can get it.”

Joey fingered the brim of his cowboy hat. “Did y’all tell me all this before I showed up here?”

Demurke nodded. “Technically, you already…a-agreed to it all. It’s okay to n-not believe that at first, though.”

“If you’re in such a rush, why put us through a recruitment process?” Mathew asked. “I could just get to work now.”

David clammed up a bit. “About that…”

“Let me be the bearer of bad news.” ORB put himself in front of David. Of course, for the robot, David let him talk all he wanted. “No position in SEAS is guaranteed. In order to become a part of the science division, you need to prove yourself as viable members. If you don’t…well, the army division is always hiring.”

The weight of that statement landed upon Mathew and Joey’s shoulders immediately. Joey in particular seemed rightfully nervous at the prospect. “Y’all wouldn’t just send us home at that point…?”

David shook his head. “The way you were sent here is mostly one-way.”

Surprisingly, that was the moment Mathew reached Joey’s level of panic. “We can’t go back?!”

“Not that kind of one-way!” He raised his wings defensively. “Without a frame on Solceus, Mathew, your Earth portal can’t be reached. And the person who brought Joey here is busy, to say the least. We’d have to set up a portal to and from my lab in New Hampshire, and then ship you aaaaaall the way back to your house.”

“Oh, good.” Mathew’s relief stuck out as odd to Jermy. Just last evening, he was telling him about how glad he was to be here and not on Earth. “Well, don’t worry about me. I’ll kick the ass of whatever challenge it takes to get this job!”

A reluctant Joey followed suit. “Well, even if Demurke doesn’t know, I still reckon my mom and dad are more likely to be here than at home. If this job gets me closer to finding out…” his affirmation seemed to lift Mathew’s spirits further.

“Good!” David’s stance loosened, looking satisfied now. Lucky for him, David probably wouldn’t chew him out any further. “Now, let’s get you two—”

“David!” That was Zack, calling from afar as he speedily swam through the pool towards them. When he leapt out of the water, he offered David a walkie-talkie-like device. “It’s Selena. She says it’s urgent.”

“Her, using a Phony?” The decidueye paced away from the group and raised the dripping device to the side of his leafy hood. “Selena, it’s me. I’m with the other recruits right now, so make this qui—” A muffled but panicked voice came through the receiver. “Huh? What on Earth did you do?” A look of concern came over him. “Selena… Whyyyyy would you say that?” He wingpalmed, then tightened his tone. “Okay. Do you think I can still get over there and calm things down? …Alright. Tell me where.” David nodded to himself. “I’ll be there. Hold down the fort until then, got it?”

“What’s all that about?” Joey asked.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this short. Something’s come up.” He glared at Jermy. “Can I trust you to take care of them?”

Jermy had no other option. “I’m on it.”

“Good. Zack, come with me.” David spread his wings and leapt into the air, gliding beak-first.

“Way ahead of you!” Zack leapt back into the water, trailing him.

The moment they were both gone, Jermy sighed in relief. Maybe he could finally do his job now. “Alright! Now, let’s get you on your first task!” He marched ahead, letting everybody tail his…well, tail. “You two are still new to your pokémon bodies, so we need to get you some practice. Luckily, the Waregle has official routings for obstacle courses, marked by those colored flags you see.” Jermy pointed ahead at a low-hanging platform ripe for leaping on. A red flag was attached to its edge. “To start you off, we’re gonna have ORB time you two running this route! It’s no snoozer, and if you fall, you have to start over. But that’s the idea! After we train you up, we can compare your time to when you started!”

“Seems easy enough.” Mathew nodded along as he walked up to the platform.

“But there’s a-a catch!” Demurke exclaimed. “It m-might not look like it, but the Waregle is actually…booby-trapped! Jermy and I a-are gonna control those, and…we w-won’t hold back!”

“Traps?” Joey pulled the brim of his hat back to study the route. “What kind of traps?”

---

“Hah! Those kinds of traps!” Joey narrowly sprung away from a torrent of flames blasting up from the floor of the platform. He slowly clawed his way up to the platform above, nearly falling through the gap between them.

Mathew was a fair bit behind Joey. After a few platforms, he had taken to crawling his way through the obstacle course. After almost slipping onto his rear due to the water-coated surfaces of the course, he wasn’t taking any risks. “Joey, wait up!”

“Maybe I’d slow down if you didn’t stick to the floor like a magnet on a fridge!” he called back.

“It’s not fair…you’re a water type! You probably have some no-slipping properties or some shit!”

Jermy pulled his mic inward. “What are you complaining for, bucko? You got the thunder thighs. It’d take some power make you keel over!”

Mathew groaned as he started climbing up a plastic rock wall. “Talk about my legs like that again and I’ll…ngh…bring you some fucking thunder—!”

The cubone’s scream filled the air as a comically large red glove sprung from the wall. He was launched away from the platform, falling down, down, down—splash.

Demurke giggled as she pulled her wing away from the button. “Y-You warned him!”

The two of them were watching all of this unfold from the comfort of the control room. Tiny cameras all over the course let them see everything through an array of monitors, and a whole console of buttons and switches allowed them to torment the recruits however they saw fit. Neither of them would finish in less than ten minutes.

Jermy had nothing to worry about now. He could just sit back and watch as Joey tried to run across those three big red balls, only to fall to his doom on the first one. As David’s remarks could be put further and further into the past.

His eyes slid away from the monitors and onto the console as he hunted for trap buttons to peck. He and David had been at odds with each other for a long, long time. It was hard to believe that it hadn’t always been this way, sometimes. Every once in a while, he remembered what life was like before Emmons Labs crossed from one world into another. Back when his apprenticeship was just about researching ways to change Earth for the better.

Back when he still had her to lean on.

Jermy misclicked, changing view to a camera pointed at ORB. It’d been a long five years since he first started working on that robot. Looking back, it felt even longer. He had desperately needed something to make him smile and laugh again. To be that voice of confidence. Nothing else in his life really played that role anymore.

Not since that night.

“Jermy. Dude.”

He had groaned as he was shaken awake. His eyes had been harder to lift than weights, but when they came open, he could see the worried look on his sister’s face. “Jane?” he had said groggily. “What time is it…?”

“About midnight, I think?” Her ears had drooped. At the time, she had been a pikachu just like him. It was still hard to confuse him for her, what with the aviator goggles and large white scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, not to mention the heart-shape at the end of her tail. “Sorry, I know you’ve always gotta get up early, but I’m on a bit of a time crunch.”

“Time crunch…?” Jermy had been confused. He remembered not being able to discern if this was a dream. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m sneaking out of here and running as far as I can,” Jane had said. “I…found something out. Something I bet ya knew? But now that I know, I can’t stay. They’ll come after me if they find out I snooped. I don’t really wanna stay, either.”

What she said then caused the intensity of the situation to finally hit him. “But—”

“It’ll be dangerous, uh huh. I wanted to say bye, in case I don’t make it out. So…” She reached for him and pulled him just out of bed enough to give him a warm embrace. “See ya, dude. Stay safe. And, even if they beg on their knees, don’t let them sucker you into those recruitment jobs, okay?”

Jermy knew what she meant now, but at the time, he had been entirely lost. All he had understood was that this might be the last time he’d see his sister. Her hug had felt so nice then. He didn’t even recall feeling himself falling back into his bed. He had just…

…

…

…

“Jermy! J-Jermy! Wake up!”

“Ah!” Jermy flung his body off of the control panel and back into his seat. A quick glance at the monitors showed a spooked Munchlax stumbling away from a geyser of water cascading down from the ceiling. Evidently, Jermy’s sleeping body had activated a whole bunch of traps around the top of the Waregle! “Sorry! Sorry! That’s my bad!” he called into the mic as he hastily turned them all off and refocused the camera to Mathew and Joey.

Demurke slumped back into her own chair, seeming relieved. “What was…that a-all about?”

“I dunno.” Jermy’s head sunk as he slouched over, getting back to work like nothing happened. “Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Chapter 5: Bug-Ridden Bonds

Chapter 4: Bug-Ridden Bonds

“Boy, am I glad to see one of these.” After their training in the Waregle, Mathew wasn’t sure if he had the energy to go out into a ‘mystery dungeon’ with the Pick-it Up Club. This, however, alleviated his concerns.

Before them was a large yellow buggy, familiar but different from an Earth vehicle — it was more car-shaped than anything. There was a driver’s seat and a shotgun seat, but the second and third rows were wide cushions that could comfortably fit three pokémon their sizes. It’d comfortably fit about eight of them, which was nearly perfect.

“This is the Pick-it Up Buggy!” Mr. Persian exclaimed, tailing the Club as they filtered into the small garage. “Our wonderful benefactor offered us this for use by resort staff, but we don’t use it much here, so I set it aside for you all! It’s a convenient way to get from here to Asulaguah Beach.”

Jermy waved. “Hello, I’m wonderful benefactor.”

“We should say ‘benefactors,’ plural,” ORB clarified. “Jermy is unfortunately not an auto mechanic.”

“A pretty interesting contraption you made here!” Politoed commented. “Like a machine version of a revavroom.”

Meowth hugged the wall. “I still don’t see the point of this. Twenty minutes isn’t that long of a walk. It’s good exercise.”

“Since when do you care about exercise?” Minichino asked. “If you wanted to work some pounds off, you could do it on the job!”

“Your legs are doing more bending than they are walking.”

Mathew mused on Meowth’s remark. He supposed that it would be good for him to get those steps in…but after running and crawling and swimming and begging for mercy in that Waregle? “I dunno. Minichino’s got a point.”

Upon them entering the conversation, Meowth withdrew, giving both of them a nod. “Whatever you say. I don’t really care.”

“In Meowth’s d-defense, the buggy isn’t a-always fun,” Demurke said. “When Breloom r-really goes flying, it’s hard to h-hold my hat down…”

“You mean it’s hard to hold your head down,” ORB corrected.

Demurke looked down at him, letting the brim of her headwear half-cover her eyes. “It’s… It’s a hat.”

“Sure. I’ll believe that when I see you take it off.”

“Just ignore him,” Jermy said, intervening. “I, for one, respect the ‘stay on your head’ attitude of your hat!”

“Th-thanks,” was all she said. Now that Mathew had a closer look, the transition from head to ‘hat’ was seamless. Could she really not—? Actually, he probably didn’t want to know.

“If you guys are done debating,” Breloom said as she pulled the key to it off of a wall hook, “do you want me to drive again, or should we let one of the new guys have a shot?”

“Actually, let me,” Mathew offered. “It sounds fun!” Not really, but he had more experience driving a vehicle than anybody else.

Breloom took him by surprise with a sudden toss of the key. Mathew looked up, and the large ring of the keychain fell around his snout, as if he were a pin in a carnival game. “It’s all yours.”

Jermy leapt for the second front seat. “I call shotgun!”

The rest of the Club filtered in to the other seats, with Meowth, Demurke, and Politoed taking the second row and Joey, Minichino, and Breloom taking the third. Breloom leaned back, planted her tail on the buggy’s floor, and put her legs atop Politoed’s seat. He grinned and playfully tapped a dangling claw.

Mathew panicked for a second when he sat down and realized he couldn’t reach the pedals, but Jermy was on it in no time, pulling a slider that raised the pedals to his level. There were only a few things that he missed from his old life on Earth, but listening to the roar of the engine as he turned the key was not one he expected. It was unlikely he was going to be driving many things after this buggy. He was going to make the most of it.

The moment Mr. Persian punched a code to open the garage Mathew backed the thing out and drove it around the resort perimeter, testing what it could do. After spotting Mr. Persian waving them off in the mirrors, Mathew picked up the pace. “Out of the waaaaaay! Coooming through!” he shouted at passerby, punctuated with a horn. The dirt roads were perfectly sized for the buggy to roll straight through, but only if cleared of pedestrians. Kalmwa’er citizens ran, jumped, flew, and floated out of the way, many of them shooting Mathew looks. Some annoyed, some shocked, some curious, some enthralled…

Mathew couldn’t hide a chuckle. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt like a stupid teenager, and he was living for it.

They arrived at the edge of Kalmwa’er, where the street ended with a wide bridge surrounded by beachgrass. Now instead of bounding over dirt, the buggy was kicking up sand. Mathew slowed to a stop, making the buggy rumble in place, and peered back at the rest of the Club. “How far to Asulaguah?”

“Usually we get there in ten minutes with the buggy,” Minichino said. “You’ve got another eight minutes to go.”

Mathew clutched the wheel tight. “I’ll make it four!”

“Uh, Mathew, I reckon it’d be nice if you’d—!”

The cubone floored it, silencing Joey’s protest. If he reached a hand past the side of the buggy, it’d get bombarded by all the sand hurtling through the air. Mathew’s skull mask rattled in the wind, and his burgundy tie threatened to fly behind him and strangle his neck if he didn’t keep it straight on his chest.

The speed was fun, at least for a couple minutes. It was entertaining to watch Joey, Minichino, Demurke, and Politoed desperately hold down their headwear — ‘headwear’, in Demurke’s case — in the rearview mirror. Unfortunately, as the buggy erupted with uninteresting small-talk, the novelty didn’t last long. Soon enough, Mathew was left staring at an empty beach with nothing to entertain him but his own mind.

…That, and the way Joey was looking at him. Why did he seem so bothered? Nobody had been hurt, right?

“Something on your mind, Mathew?”

“Uh, no!” Mathew flinched in his seat in surprise. He had forgotten Jermy was right next to him. “Nothing important.”

Jermy’s ears flapped in the wind. “Are you sure?” He lowered his voice, quiet enough to be muffled by the roar of the engine.

Mathew sank into his seat, loosely holding the wheel steady. Besides Joey, he did have a lot to think about. “I’m just worried about doing a good job, I guess. I didn’t expect the new start I wanted to involve so much work.” He grimaced. “If I spent eight months getting here just to screw it all up at the finish line—”

“Hey, don’t talk like that!” Jermy said. “It’s only your first real day. We’re not expecting you to do anything magical right now.”

“He is correct. That will come later,” ORB added, resting in Jermy’s lap.

“Besides, you’re Mathew Walker. I know you can do this! And once you do, it’ll be...better. A lot better. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Right.” He shifted his foot around on the pedal, but couldn’t find a new comfortable spot. “What got SEAS interested in me, anyway? I haven’t done much resume-building since the world went to shit.”

“Well, I can’t speak for SEAS, but I know I was excited when I heard we were thinking of bringing you on board!” Jermy said. “You know ORB’s programming uses your Cat-Tongue code as a base?”

Cat-Tongue? That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. “Why the hell would you use CT? I threw that together during a college internship like fifteen years ago.” Certainly his more recent AI projects were out there for him to copy, right?

“Yeah, and just about everyone trying to make AI that works with robotics uses it as a base! You could make a forest out of all the branches I’ve found out there.” He gestured to Pawalmtry Forest, the place he and Joey awoke, as it ran in parallel with the beach.

“That makes more sense.” Cat-Tongue’s base had indeed caught on as he polished it over the years, but he’d left the project behind a long time ago. “Still, why credit CT to me? All I did was mix an open-source AI with a robotic operation program. It looked pretty janky at the time.”

“It’s not all about the code. It’s the fact that you finalized both the code and the robot! As an intern!”

Mathew shrugged. “That was the project, yeah.”

“Not everyone has the skill to juggle both, Mathew,” Jermy asserted. “And to get the word out there about your stuff in that really charming way… You’ve seriously got a gift.”

“Let’s not talk about my ad campaigns.” Mathew chuckled lightly. It was hard to think back on his TV spots and YouTube videos.

“Why not? You got so many people into tech with that ‘magic show’ shtick of yours.” Jermy looked away from him. “You got me into tech.”

Mathew had to do a double-take. “What?” He glanced at Jermy with wide eyes.

Jermy was caught off-guard. “Uh, yeah! When I was a teen, I really got into your stuff, and I learned a lot. That’s why I started building and programming in the first place. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d never have met David.” He looked down at his hands. “Maybe we’d never have ended up here.”

So that’s what Jermy was.

A fan. Of his achievements on Earth.

Mathew’s heart began pumping. The fact fell on him like a fist. “Then you know…”

The concerned Jermy clutched his creation. “Know what?” His voice seemed so far away.

“About what happened.” Mathew looked down at the floor of the buggy. The club on the floor. The club. “After… after…”

It was happening again.

Mathew held him tightly in his arms. A siren blared outside as they rushed in. He could feel his whole world falling out from under him.

“I’m so sorry,” he frailly told him. He wished he could say more, do more, but there was nothing. Nothing.

Everything was blurry. All he could see was what had been burned into his mind.

All he could see was L—

“Mathew! What the heck are you doing?!”

“Everyone, jump! Now!”

Mathew was barely able to snap out of it at the sound of Minichino and Breloom’s yells. “Shit!” He pumped the brakes, turned the wheel, and braced for impact.

Crack!

The cubone slammed his chest into the wheel from the force of the impact. The bone club launched out from under him, landing in the sand. Even as the tension subsided, he struggled to breathe.

He slowly climbed to his feet in the driver’s seat. Over the front of the buggy, he could see the damage: a large, textured rock he had slammed the buggy into had split in half, right down the middle. Behind him, the Club members were pulling themselves out of the sand. None of them seemed particularly happy at the moment.

What had he done? A crash like this had probably damaged the buggy. Worse yet, he could’ve gotten everyone in the Club injured. Or worse—

“Our rock.”

Oh God.

Mathew whipped around to see a towering creature climb atop the split rock. Held together by stone making up its shoulders and waist, the orange and brown colored pokémon had four arms and two legs, each with sets of long claws. Even the head seemed to resemble a potential fist.

No, no, no. He did not have the energy to deal with one of those ‘dungeon pokémon’ right now. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, failing to find anything better to say.

“You jerk! You broke our rock!” That voice didn’t come from the head.

“I know that!” Mathew snapped. Where…wait, was that thing on one of their right palms an eye? In fact, there were eyes on all four of the palms.

Dear God. This wasn’t one wild pokémon he had enraged. It was seven.

The lower left palm chuckled. “Look at him, shaking like a krabby! How cute.”

“Sure wish I could see it…” A muffled voice cried from the left sole.

“Quit complainin’. Heady will give us a looksee when he feels like it,” the right sole said.

“Quiet!” Heady exclaimed, and the limbs went silent. “This is our only rock. And you broke it.”

“As I said, I know that.” Mathew could feel the tension radiating off of the pokémon. As if he needed another reason to be distressed. “At least you have two rocks to share among yourselves, or something.”

He regretted that line the moment it came out his mouth.

“Two rocks,” Heady repeated. “Would you like two heads?” He glanced at one of the left arms. “Left hook.”

The unit moved faster than Mathew could react. The next thing he knew, his mask rattled, his body was buried in the sand, and a splitting headache had come over him.

A chorus of shouts came from his coworkers as they charged in. Mathew looked up just in time to see Jermy leap onto the hood and shove the pokémon off with a blisteringly quick attack.

Two pairs of paws came over him. The first were Meowth’s, pulling him into a standing position, then checking for significant injuries. The second were Minichino’s, clearing him of sand.

“Sorry, Mathew, but I can’t live with a coworker covered in sand,” she told him.

Jermy was still busy holding off the pokémon. “Alright, Mr. Four Arms,” Mathew heard him call out. “Feel the shocking power of Jermy Shock!” Jermy lobbed a mighty bolt...which promptly turned away from the target and took off towards land, slamming into a line of trash along the shore. “Oh, come on!” he wailed. “Who throws away a— Two! Two lightning rods! Are you joking?!”

As the unit slashed at Jermy, the rest of the Club congregated around Mathew. “Well, this is kind of a mess,” Breloom proclaimed. “That barbaracle’s about to make a pancake out of Jer.”

Breloom was right. Mathew surveyed the pokémon around him. Already, he could feel his mind kicking up the pace. They outnumbered this barbaracle thing nine-ish to seven, right? He just needed to plot everyone out like this was a project. He’d done that plenty of times.

He brought them into this situation, and he’d pull them out of it.

“Okay. This guy hits like a truck, so Meowth should stay far out of the way of this.” He and Joey weren’t exactly equipped to fight, either. “Joey, you stay with him and pretend you could kick this guy’s ass.”

Joey bore his sharp teeth at Mathew. “Rawr.”

Mathew shot him a look of disappointment.

“Is that planning I hear?” Politoed crouched down to come to his level, intrigued. “Usually that’s my job.”

Perfect. “I only know half of the people here. Can you help with the other half?”

He immediately turned to the Club veterans. “Breloom, focus on sapping those limbs of energy. Minichino, use your size to catch him by surprise.”

“Demurke could do that, too,” Mathew suggested, gesturing to her. “Have her fly in from above.”

That idea made Politoed grin. “Not a bad idea.”

“I-I like this plan!” Demurke exclaimed, seeming eager.

Mathew breathed a sigh of relief as he picked up his club and dusted it off. It seemed like the panic of his prior mistake was already fading away.

“Yeah!” Minichino tensed up, ready to fight. “All that’s left is what Politoed’s gonna do!”

Politoed shut his eyes, contemplating. “I’ll—”

“Aw, fish sticks…!” A distant cry got everyone’s attention. In the time it had taken for them to plan, the barbaracle had gotten the upper hand over Jermy, grabbing him in his fist. Mathew’s eyes widened as he watched the dungeon pokémon rear back like a football player.

“Bye bye~” the fist said.

With a throw, Jermy was launched through the sky over the ocean. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…” In the distance, Mathew watched him skip and skid along the waves until he finally went under.

“…go deal with that.” Politoed shuffled away slowly, as if the barbaracle could only see movement. Once at the edge of the water, he dove in after Jermy.

Heady’s eyes landed on Mathew once again as the hulking body stomped around to face him. “We will drown you next. Unless the others still want to go first?”

“Try me, ‘Ed!” Breloom burst into a sprint, aiming a punch at the right leg. The unit stepped out of the way, then hammered down on her with a lower arm. With a practiced efficiency, Breloom answered with a kick to the barbaracle’s slammed fist, only for another hand to connect. She was pushed back, but kept her feet firmly in the sand.

“Try again!” Heady commanded, and the limbs obeyed. Both lower arms went for Breloom at the same time. Effortlessly, she dove under them, and they smacked into each other. Breloom promptly jumped for the upper left hand, digging her fists into it.

“You must be full of energy to throw that far. Mind if I take some of that?”

Breloom’s red claws began to glow. The arm flailed around, trying and failing to shake her off. The claws on her hands sunk deep, and, when airborne, the ones on her feet did just as well. The tighter Breloom held on, the weaker the limb’s resistance became.

Mathew remembered a move that sounded like this: Drain Punch.

“High-lefty!” The lower left palm cried as the limb withered and slumped over. In retaliation, they reached for the Breloom and pulled her off. “You’re gonna pay for that. He wasn’t the only good throwing arm here!” Breloom struggled in their grip, but the newfound energy wasn’t enough.

Mathew almost couldn’t believe that she was caught. Breloom had fought so impressively, it was like she’d never get beat. With nobody else geared to help, Mathew charged in. “Get the hell away from—!”

He realized too late that shouting a battle cry had given himself away. A leg came flying at his face, knocking him to his back. The unit went in to stomp on him, only to lean back. A laser from ORB soared through the air and cut them off.

That was all Breloom needed. She burst out of the lower left’s grip and made for a kick at the torso. Heady yelped, unprepared for a blow, and the unit fell into a sitting position. When they rose, the arms were playing a game of Whack-A-Mole with their torso. Minichino had gotten onto their back.

“Who…is that?!” Heady exclaimed, sounding winded by the kick.

“I’m Minichino, here to kick your butt! Nice to meet you!” She nimbly hopped all around the torso, letting the desperate limbs smack Heady’s body. Evidently, there was no rule against friendly fire as long as it protected the unit.

“You three…!” Heady tried to command. “Stop missing...or I’ll—”

A dark blue blur dropped onto the unit’s shoulder, launching a wing-smack faster than they could think. Hardly a second later, Heady slumped over.

Mathew leapt into the air with glee. “Yes!” They’d taken out the one in command! Now the barbaracle would surely—

“Arms! Position shift! Now!”

…What?

Minichino and Demurke scurried around the rock body as the unit shifted the body sideways. The two unconscious limbs were made into right arms, The lower left arm was made the new head, the right palms became feet, and the former feet had already taken hold of both of the Club members.

“You’ve taken out Heady,” one of them said.

“Now it’s time...for the Feeties!” the other shouted.

“Dunk them!” the new head barked, and so they did, slamming them both down. Breloom tried to retaliate, but a sweep knocked all three of them away. The unit hobbled away in an awkward walk, heading for a pile of trash.

This wasn’t good. With this adaptation, Mathew’s plan was starting to come undone. Those ex-feet seemed to hit way harder, based on that sweep. How could he contend with… Uh, what were they doing?

The unit was hunched over, letting the two reach down into the trash pile. They were trying to pry a pair of lightning rods — the ones Jermy had been stopped by earlier — out of the sand.

Meowth moved into the crowd, offering Minichino, Demurke, and Breloom oran berries. “That thing’s going to beat us with lightning rods?” he remarked. “That doesn’t seem very effective.”

Mathew was about to coordinate a new plan when he paused.

Where. Where had he heard what Meowth said before? It was familiar…

Oh… It was there.

“What kind of weapon is that?” she whispered to him. “He has a death wish if he’s gonna use that against a firearm. How much are you willing to bet those nails are just for looks?”

Mathew stared and stared and stared at that barbaracle as it clutched them firmly. The new head looked towards the group with fierce eyes.

Towards him.

The cubone’s club shook in his trembling hand. “No… Don’t you come closer…” He took a step back. Breloom said something to him, but it didn’t register. His heart was beating so loudly that it flooded his ears.

The barbaracle charged Mathew down. He wanted to leap out of the way, but he didn’t. It was as if his mind was detached from his limbs. Why was he like this? He clenched his eyes shut as the rod came down. He didn’t want to see the outcome.

It never came. When he opened them again, he was sat down facing the shore, away from the action. Sand spread across his arms and water lapped at his legs. He couldn’t feel any of it.

His savior, the one who dragged him out of the way, got down on his knees, looking him directly in the eye. A paw came to rest on his shoulder.

“Can you close your eyes for me?” Meowth’s voice was firm, but not harsh. Mathew was compelled to do as he said. “Breathe in through your snout carefully. Count to five, then breathe out.”

His erratic breathing changed pace as he heeded his advice. In. One, two, three, four, five. Out. He repeated it again, then again.

The world began coming back to him. First the lapping water, then the ground below him, then the warmth of the sun. The distress of the moment was easing.

“Thank you,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. He felt Meowth’s grasp on his shoulder soften.

The fight was coming back again. He could hear Politoed barking commands and Jermy charging into battle. The pikachu’s voice was distant, but legible. “Bad weapon choice, bucko! You’re about to get a taste of my sweet revenge.”

There was a surge, then a slam. Mathew finally opened his eyes and turned around. Past the sharp glare of the sun, he was just in time to watch Jermy cleanly tackle the center of the barbaracle. The limbs cried out as they were launched back, the shape of the unit breaking away. When they landed, the stones making up their body cracked and broke, letting loose the creatures that made it up.

“Noooooo! Not our other rocks!” one of the three remaining creatures cried as they took their four unconscious buddies and slithered away. Without a body, they stood no chance.

Mathew slowly climbed to his feet as the Club members regrouped. Everyone seemed mostly fine…except for Minichino. She was splayed in the sand, unmoving. He approached her in concern. Something must have happened while he was lost in his own mind. “Is she—?”

“No, just unconscious.” Casually, Meowth rummaged around in his emergency kit until he revealed a small seed with a tiny little leaf sprouting from it. He carefully fed the seed into her mouth, and as if she’d been jumpstarted like a vehicle, she sprung to life.

“Alright, which one of you wants some—?” Minichino scrambled to her feet, only to realize there was no action around her. “Aw, is the fight already over?”

“Do you think I would have given you that if it wasn’t safe?” Meowth asked.

Minichino crossed her arms. “I would’ve wanted you to!”

“Well, I’ll be…” Joey approached them in awe. “Did that seed do that?”

“It woke her up, yes,” Meowth replied. “Have you never seen a reviver seed before?”

“Uh, no, I have.” He didn’t sound confident, but nobody pressed him further. Mathew noticed Jermy nod ever so slightly.

Demurke flapped her wings in satisfaction. “Well, th-that’s taken care of!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.” Mathew sighed, letting the last of his worries go. He felt like that could’ve gone much, much worse.

“Well, not everything.” Breloom gave a reminding gesture to the massive cracked rock. “The good news is that I’m pretty sure you didn’t bust it up too much. I’m gonna kindly ask that you leave the driving to me from here on, though.” She chuckled, hardly seeming angry.

“Yeah, that’s fair…” If that was all the ribbing he was going to get for this fiasco, Mathew was incredibly thankful. The mercy and support of his co-workers was the whole reason why that barbaracle didn’t end up killing him or something. “Anyway, I’m gonna go check the damages on the buggy.”

“I elect Jermy to help him, since he took shotgun,” ORB chimed in.

“Hey, I was gonna do that anyway! It’s my responsibility as a ‘wonderful benefactor’, after all.” Jermy made a shooing motion to the rest of the Club. “You guys go on ahead and start cleaning up around here.”

“I’ll stay in case you need an extra pair of paws,” Meowth declared. Minichino shot him a side-eye, which he quickly reciprocated.

“Okay! Don’t t-take too long, you guys. See you soon…!” Demurke ushered the Club away from Mathew, Jermy, Meowth, and ORB. Joey gave Mathew a thoughtful look before he joined them.

Jermy led Mathew towards the impact site, letting Meowth stay behind them and watch. After taking a moment to ensure the wheels weren’t locked, the two carefully pushed the buggy away from the rock. The damage was clear: the left side of the hood was deeply dented.

“Well, it could be worse?” Mathew supposed.

“Definitely!” Jermy lifted the hood, revealing a large, complex engine. There didn’t seem anything immediately broken or out-of-place. “We designed this thing to be sturdy. Everything has to be sturdy on Solceus, after all.”

“Huh.” Now that Mathew’s mind was a little clearer, he could admire Jermy’s prowess. “You aren’t an auto engineer, right?” Neither was he, but he couldn’t help but take a moment to study it. It wasn’t easy to contribute to a field of engineering you have less practice in, Mathew knew that much. So for Jermy to have done this… “You talked like you were just a fan, but you aren’t half-bad yourself, either.”

“Thanks! Y’know, we’ve kinda had similar careers when you think about it,” Jermy posited. “We’re both engineers, we’ve helped make ground-breaking progress in our fields, we both have messed up name spellings…”

“Oh, I feel that last one.” He rolled his eyes as irritating memories flashed through his mind. “So many people write my name with two Ts, it drives me nuts.”

“Don’t forget you called me Jeremy when I introduced myself yesterday. Trust me, you’re not the first!” Jermy quietly remarked.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Mathew said. “How did that name happen, by the way? I get mine, but—”

“Miswrite on my birth certificate,” Jermy quickly answered.

“…Wow.” Mathew had no idea how to respond to that, so he decided to take a closer look at the dented hood. “Do you think I could push that back out with my club?” he asked.

“You’re free to try!” Jermy held up the hood, leaving it wide open.

Mathew came up and poked the interior. He aimed for the center, reared back, and gave it a smack. Then another, and another. This dent was resilient, but so was he.

“You can do it!” Jermy cheered. “Hammer that dent like it ruined your life!”

Mathew winced, and the next thing he knew, he’d swung with so much force that the club slipped from his hand and dropped into the sand. “Whoops…” He squatted and—

Don’t look down

—stumbled away from it. “Maybe you should’ve used another analogy,” he mumbled. He reached up to wipe sweat that wasn’t present from the side of his face he couldn’t feel through his mask.

Jermy seemed at a loss for how to react to him. “Uh… I… I could make another one if you—”

“I think Mathew needs fewer analogies and more time to think.”

Right, Mathew had almost forgot that Meowth was with them. He peered back at the cat, giving him an expression that he couldn’t read.

“Jermy, I’m going to talk with him for a few minutes,” Meowth continued. “There’s something important I feel I need to say.”

Jermy’s ears straightened as he heard Meowth’s assertion. “Well look at you, being a go-getter…” Meowth crossed his arms at that.

“According to my database, consequences of taking a break include short-term frustration, long-term depression, possible destruction of bones, and death.” ORB let that hang for a moment. “Just kidding. Go ahead.”

Mathew followed Meowth as he padded along, taking him to the other side of the rock. He sat down, then beckoned Mathew to do the same.

He collapsed against the stone. “That’s the second time you’ve come to my rescue today,” Mathew said. “Thanks for that.”

“It’s fine.” Meowth started half-mindedly raking one of his claws against the coin embedded into his forehead. “Have you noticed yourself ‘clamming up’, for lack of a better term, like how you did during the fight earlier?”

“Yeah…” Mathew still was unsure what to make of his landlord of sorts. Meowth’s tone was so matter-of-fact, but he seemed to be honestly engaging with him. He deserved at least a little explanation. “I get like that sometimes. Joey saw a bit of it yesterday, but I’m trying not to let it show too much.” The cubone looked down and gave a hard kick to the water, splashing it forwards. “It doesn’t help that I feel kind of tired in general already.”

“You did leave the condo pretty early this morning.” Meowth put his paw down, looking more focused now. “What are they having you do that warrants being up so early?”

Meowth really kept asking him the hard questions, huh? How could Mathew non-explicitly describe the experience… “Well, it involved a lot of running around.”

Meowth grunted. “Interesting. Weird that our employer has you here after the others are making you work your tail off.”

Mathew wasn’t really sure what Meowth meant by that, other than that he was against overworking. “You aren’t really the backbreaker type, huh?”

He grinned. “Why do you think I’m here instead of helping the others clean?” Meowth asked. Suddenly, his tone became a lot more serious. “I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but I happen to be a licensed physical and mental therapist.”

Mathew’s eyes widened. “For real?”

“For real.”

Huh. A cat that happened to be a therapist. What were the odds?

“Anyway, I get the impression that you might be in need of somebody to talk to. So, why don’t we grab lunch together after our work today is done?”

An honest-to-god therapy session over some food? After everything, that sounded like exactly what Mathew was looking for. Maybe he could finally develop some more resilience and make his path to peacefulness that much easier. It was hard to believe this was the guy everyone was warning him about.

“You know what? I’d like that,” he said with a nod.

His bone club rolled up against his hand, but he ignored it. For now, there was no need.

Chapter 6: An Ingrained Question

Chapter 5: An Ingrained Question

The longer Joey’s morning went on, the more bizarre it seemed to get. First, he learned he had signed himself off to fight in a secret war and didn’t even remember it. Second, he unwittingly participated in running over half of Kalmwa’er. Third, he watched as his friends fought a bunch of barnacles making up a humanoid form like they were Power Rangers, whatever those were. These few hours had been so overwhelming that it kind of surreal to be somewhere familiar.

The sea to his right, the sea of trees to his left, and the sea of trash in the sand before him made it obvious that this beach was the place he had awoken yesterday. He couldn’t see the exact spot — none of the litter seemed to be arranged in the order he remembered it — but this trash-ridden beach was unmistakable. At least, he hoped so.

Joey turned to his Solcean peers. “What the heck happened here?” he asked them. “It’s so nice and clean in Kalmwa’er. Why is it so bad so far away from town?”

What he said sparked a fire in Minichino’s eyes. “Alright, Joey, time for a history lesson!” She marched ahead of them, picking up an old ball and holding it up like a movie prop. “About a hundred years ago, the smartest minds of Solceus gathered together and invented the worst material known to pokémon-kind: plastic.”

Joey groaned. Of all things for both worlds to have, he reckoned there was no material more depressing than this.

“Unlike most materials, plastic degrades unusually slowly in nature, leading to it staying in the environment for decades on end. And thanks to the Legendary Court’s plan to put worldwide regulation on them going…badly, it’s everywhere. Most towns like Kalmwa’er can handle disposing of the waste, but the stuff that end up in mystery dungeons?” She widely gestured to the beach. “This is what happens to it.”

“Not to mention what it does to the dungeon pokémon,” Politoed remarked, looking off into the horizon.

“Exactly!” Minichino exclaimed. “They’re already aggressive enough, but when their homes are getting ruined? That brings out the worst in them. I hear that there’s these geodudes living in the cave at the end of this beach, Misery Cave, that fight anybody who tries to go in. Nobody can take the trash out of the cave, so now the place is totally dirtied up!”

“And s-since fighting dungeon pokémon is banned u-unless it’s in self-defense or a fair duel,” Demurke chimed in, “there’s n-no good way for us to help, besides w-waiting for the Kalmwa’er S-Service Guild to…go deal with them.”

“Which they haven’t.” Breloom shook her head, seeming disappointed at that fact.

Joey listened to this story, surprised. “Sounds like this club ain’t around for no reason.”

“Exactly! If the town isn’t gonna help these dungeons, then that means it’s all up to us!” Minichino perked up, getting into a battle stance as she looked ahead. “As long as I’m here, there isn’t a piece of trash on this beach that can hide!”

Swish! With a whirl, Minichino swung her tail and sent a burst of wind forward. A torrent of sand and a number of plastics were flung high into the air. The sand coasted on the wind while the trash tumbled back to the ground, ripe for picking. Joey noticed that there had been even more waste, concealed beneath the surface, that her attack had unearthed.

Wordlessly, they all got to work. Cup after cup, shard after shard, bag after bag, every sand-coated piece was stuffed into Joey’s satchel with little effort. Tiredness and boredness began to sink in fast. His absent mind began to daydream about a world where these dungeon pokémon didn’t stand in their way. Minichino and the others could clean up these places without issue, and there’d hardly be a job to do. That’d be real nice. Maybe Joey should go teach those geodudes a lesson about accepting help?

No, he had to quash that pipe dream while it was still small. If his poor performance in the obstacle course and his sidelining in the fight were in any indication, he’d never stand a chance. When SEAS had mentioned that army division, it hadn’t hit him until now what that’d really entail. Fighting as a pokémon seemed so difficult and intimidating. What had gotten him on board with such a hard job in the first place?

Argh, maybe he would know if his past wasn’t blank! Why was it that everything that mattered to him was completely out of his own reach, and everything that didn’t was right at his fingertips? Without his past, how could he hope to grasp this future they were setting out for him?

“We’re baaaaack!” Jermy’s exclamation was a pleasant distraction from all that, so Joey perked up in greeting. He, Mathew, ORB, and Meowth had caught back up with them. “Turns out the rock took more damage than the buggy did, so we’ll be able to drive it back.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Breloom said. “Although I’m still going to drive it myself.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna stop you,” Mathew answered briefly. He seemed much more interested in Minichino, approaching her eagerly. “Hey, what was that trash-launching thing you did back there? I saw it while we were walking up.”

“Oh, you mean this?” With hardly any hesitation, Minichino repeated the motion.

Swish! The moment the move came out, Mathew leapt into action. He jumped straight in the way of the falling trash, letting sand douse him as he caught a plate, then a bowl. With his masked snout raised high, a six-pack ring landed over his snout. Then, with his free hand, he threw his bone club towards a plastic bag flowing in the wind. The twirling club smacked the bag, but it didn’t come back on the club’s return trip, leaving the piece of ivory to flip into the sand on it own. “Ah, so close to four…” he muttered, dropping his spoils into his satchel.

Demurke clapped her wings in applause. “That w-was really good!”

The reptile gave a dramatic bow, as if he were on a stage show. “Thank you, thank you. When I signed up for the Club, I decided I wanted to do everything in my power to make this job not boring. And well, taking advantage of this is a lot less boring, right?”

“You’ve been thinking about this more than a brain in a briefcase…” Joey couldn’t help but feel a bit envious at Mathew’s quick adaptation. He put himself in a leadership role right away, bounded back from crashing the buggy like it was nothing, and now he could even use his club to hit faraway things. How the heck was he supposed to match that?

Politoed nodded in approval. “Maybe we should all do this. Might finally make Meowth not bored here for the first time in his life.”

The gray cat peered at him with a ‘was that really necessary?’ expression, but without saying a word, he brushed it off. “I will say this is different from what we normally do, Mathew.”

“Oh, you mean make it a game or something?” Mathew’s eye sparkled with inspiration. “Whoever can catch the most falling stuff without letting it touch the ground wins. Flying is banned, obviously.” Demurke pretended to fall over in defeat. “We’ll put the record on the wall of like, the lobby or something.”

“Oh, I am super into this!” Minichino exclaimed, pumping her short arms. “Let’s do it!”

So this was an athletic game now, huh? Joey reckoned that Mathew’s genius might be just what he needed after all. The crocodile missed his shot to prove himself before, but if he could take home a high-score, then maybe…

Minichino put herself in the center of the Club members. “Everyone get ready. Little ol’ Minichino’s gonna give this beach something to cry about!”

Slam! This time, Minichino smacked her tail directly on the beach, blasting wind strong enough to push Joey back. He tried to remain steady as everyone dashed around him, leaping and reaching and diving for their points. There was just one object he wanted right now: a huge cardboard box, spinning and spinning right towards him. All he had to do was move where it was falling and use his body to catch—

“Coming through!”

A green blur sprung through the air and shattered Joey’s dreams. Breloom landed with an assortment of trash in her arms and a box over her mushroom cap. “Six!” she proclaimed.

“S…Six…” Joey gawked at the kangaroo as he listened to the others’ scores. Two twos. A three. A four. Not even a five.

“Just one for me,” Politoed said bashfully as he came up to Breloom.

“Yeah, only because you dived for it and missed your chance at everything else,” Breloom teased as she flattened out the box.

“Not like I’d beat you if I hadn’t.” He cracked a grin. “You’re the best out here.”

“Nah, don’t count yourself out of the running.” Breloom leaned towards him and pecked his cheek.

Joey could hardly enjoy the tender moment beneath the weight of this crushing defeat. He slouched, glumly kicking his feet through the sand as he slowly paced around. There’s no way he could get the gold now! Against this kind of competition, what was Joey supposed to do?

“Hey, don’t sweat it too much, dude.” Minichino patted Joey on the back, making him flinch in surprise. “It’s only round one. You’ll get a few!” Her eyes flicked between him and the power couple.

Suddenly, the two pulled apart. “Yeah, Poli and I did well this round, but we’re not perfect, Joe. Maybe you could catch us by surprise once you get used to it?”

“Well, thanks,” he mumbled, turning away from them. Sure, he’d get better, but it’d be nothing special. These three were just normal Club members at the end of the day. They don’t understand the kind of pressure he’s under to—

Minichino cut ahead of him. “Besides, I didn’t get any points either! You’re not alone on this one. In fact…” she whirled towards the others. “Hey, could somebody substitute in as the launcher? I wanna piece of this pie too!”

“Oh, I can help with that!” Jermy proposed. “We’ll just trade out each time so we can both have a shot.”

“Are you g-gonna use that Iron Tail of yours, Jermy?” Demurke asked.

“I could… but I got a better idea.” He stuck his tongue out and rubbed his hands. “ORB, I think it’s time we show everyone another move you can do.”

ORB began rolling away from Jermy. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You haven’t practiced your singing voice in the past seven months.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine!” Jermy dismissed. He and robot were now a good distance away from everyone else, standing directly across from one another. “Now, I’m thinking of a classical…fast pace…I think it has to do with horses?”

That seemed to be enough for ORB. “Now playing: William Tell Overture: Finale, with a lowered tempo.” From him emerged the sounds of an energetic orchestra, playing a song Joey somehow found both very familiar and brand new at the same time.

As the intro drew to a close, the whole Club watched Jermy intently.

“Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up!” With a wave of the hands and the mouth, a colorful energy in the shape of a musical note was flung forth from Jermy, straight at ORB.

Politoed raised a brow. “Round, huh? Interesting.”

“Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up.” ORB’s monotone reflected the note back at Jermy. It seemed slightly larger now.

Jermy, again. “Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, Pick-it Up, up, up!”

To ORB. “Pick-it Up…” This time, ORB sent the energy slightly higher. It looked like the power of song was going to sail right over Jermy’s head.

“…For the Pick-it Up Club!” Jermy leaped up to spike it.

BOOM.

Several of them screamed as the shockwave of the attack enshrouded all of them in a sandy cloud. Joey shut his eyes and, once they were in the thick of it, he could barely open them without wincing.

“Oh my g-gosh!” Demurke exclaimed. Joey tried to spot her, but the torrent of dust was too thick. “Jermy, you k-kicked up more sand than trash…!”

“Yeah, dude! Talk about overclocking it a little!” Minichino said. “Now we can’t see anything!”

“Sorry, guys! I might have gotten a little too into the song. But it’s okay! I have goggles!” Jermy exclaimed from somewhere within the fog. A gasp followed. “There’s sand in the goggles! Oh no!”

“Goddamnit, Jermy…” Mathew muttered. Joey felt the reptile’s hand grab his arm and pull him along. Joey put his free arm over his eyes — it seemed like he wasn’t as affected.

“Can anybody…see me…leaping around?” Breloom asked. Joey figured what she was actually doing was probably less funny-looking than it appeared in his head.

“Save your strength, Breloom,” a distant Meowth suggested. “We’re not gonna get anywhere until Jermy’s little project drifts off.”

“Hey!” Jermy exclaimed. “I’m only about thirty three percent responsible for this!”

Minichino sounded flabbergasted. “Thirty three percent?! What in the world is — oh hey guys — what is the other percent for?” A strained squint showed a gray Minichino-like mass had met up with him and Mathew.

“Thirty three percent ORB, and thirty three percent you!” Jermy said.

“How is it my fault?!” Minichino didn’t receive an answer

“That’s ninety nine percent,” Meowth pointed out. “What’s the one percent?”

“The rich eli — OW!” Evidently, somebody had just smacked Jermy. Twice. “What the heck, Politoed?!”

“First one was for bringing up politics on the job. Get enough of that at home,” the frog explained. “Second one was for that mediocre singing voice!”

“All of you, shut — achk!” Not even Mathew was safe from coughing. “Why the hell is there still sand in the air?!”

“…Huh. It has been almost thirty seconds or so,” Breloom said.

“Unless there’s the dust clouds are magic too, I think — wait.” The interjection was aimed at Joey. “Where did your hat go?”

“My hat’s missing?!” Joey patted his head, and sure enough, there was a striking absence of hat. Had the wind from the Round attack knocked it off? No, that shouldn’t be possible with the strap. How…?

“Guys?” Jermy said nervously. “Do any of you see ORB? I don’t hear William Tell Overture anymore.”

“I hath seized your felt and kin!” A voice boomed. Through his squinting, Joey watched a shadowy figure pass over them.

“Is that a goddamn ghost?!” Mathew exclaimed.

“Art I, art I!” he declared. Elsewhere, Joey heard Politoed groan in irritation. “This hostage of mineself shalt cure these tears of defeat!”

The sandstorm around them slowly dropped along with the spirit, freeing up Joey’s vision. Trash surrounded them on all sides, kicked to the surface by Jermy’s attack. The spirit lowered into the sand, blending in with it as a shadow of sorts. It slithered towards one particular piece, a little red shovel, before bursting out of the sand, taking the shovel and some shells with it. The sand, shovel, and shells assembled into some sort of vessel for the ghoul.

“What did you do with ORB?!” Jermy cried.

“It is quite simple, thy fattened rodent!” The possessed sand castle wiggled around as it shouted angrily. “Thou hast taketh mine honour, last we met! Thou shalt pay with my perfect vengeance! We shalt take your ally and your belongings!”

Joey looked to the Club veterans. “Last y’all met?”

“Indeed!” the spirit answered for them. “Thoust with the bubbles and the kingly claim hast stolen mine dignity naught but two weeks ago!”

Politoed sighed. “A couple weeks back, these guys kept running off with our satchels,” he explained. “Had to fight them to get them back.”

“So they’re repeat offenders, then.” The speed at which Mathew brandished his club made Joey feel a bit nervous. An image of him holding his club over a bruised wingull flashed in the crocodile’s mind.

“I claimed this land by mine own pillars!” Palossand said with a theatrical air. “I adored mine subjects dearly using mine kingship, but now mine good name is gone! Gone! Thou hast brought ruin to the wondrous sands of mine kingdom! Mine turf has been tainted by your constant conquerings! Thou shalt be punished by mine own hand!”

“You don’t even have hands, you word salad sand castle!” Minichino exclaimed.

“Silence, wench!” he snapped. “If thee shant take my declarations of war in a manner of seriousness before mine presence, perhaps thou shalt change your minds whence you face my knights’ wraths!” Palossand declared. On cue, three smaller mounds of sand with faces emerged from the surface, carrying their own little shovels.

“Bet ORB is inside one of those sandygasts,” the frog advised.

“I reckon the little fellas can’t hide all of ORB inside…” In studying the threats, Joey saw something that gave him pause. One of those sand monsters had…! “My hat!”

At Joey’s cry, chaos broke out. Palossand and two of his minions charged, clashing with the Club members. Politoed groaned as green streaks of energy drained from him, pulled into the big castle’s clutches. Demurke tried to slash through one of the minions, but her wing barely pushed through, as if she’d struck flesh instead of sand. Joey tried not to get distracted in the thick of it, keeping his eyes straight on the single retreating minion — the one who Joey suspected had more than just his hat.

“You ain’t going anywhere!” the crocodile commanded as he chased after him. “I know you’ve got him!”

The sand monster turned back to glance at him. At this angle, he could see a familiar red ball dangling out of his side. Bullseye. But when Joey looked back to see that nobody but him was confronting this one, he realized he might not have thought this through.

“Thou is playing a most dangerous game. If thee carries the truth, then I must knock it out of you!” He was only slightly less boisterous than his leader.

Joey tried to hide his nervousness. He knew this was a bad idea, but there was something in his heart that refused to accept defeat. The crocodile assumed the closest thing he had to a battle stance. “You ain’t gonna knock anything out of anyone,” he told his foe. “You might think you’re stronger than a knight at night, but I don’t need anybody stronger to help—”

The sandygast struck with no hesitation. A shockwave of sand bulldozed right over Joey, flinging him onto his back.

“Pah!” the sand monster said. “Thou is an oaf, removing every weakness from thine loose purse!” A deep crackling sound emitted from him. “Now I know…thou hasn’t…the slightest idea…how to battle!”

Joey tried to stand up and get out of the way, but that just made his beatdown worse — the sand monster launched a dark, shadowy fastball right into his chest, sending him bounding across the beach with as much force as yesterday’s ocean. He landed on his side, gripping his aching chest.

Joey’s eyes wavered from the sun glinting off of ORB’s antenna as the sand monster slowly approached. He knew how pathetic he looked, how easy it would be for this simple dungeon pokémon to get the best of him. Desperately, he lunged forward with his jaws and—

Sand! Sand! The sand monster pulled him by the maw and swallowed his body whole! He was coarse, rough. Irritating. Getting everywhere. Joey was left with no mouth to scream with, less he take in all of this sand.

“Now, perish!” The monster’s voice boomed all around him.

Joey struggled, flailing like a fly in a flytrap, but it was no use. He could feel his own strength being sapped. Slowly, the crocodile was fading…and fading…

Then came the blast.

For just a second, a laser from ORB tore a hole open in the monster’s form, freeing half of his body. He felt his feet graze non-living sand and planted them as firmly as he could. Joey started a game of tug-of-war with the monster, with the rope being his maw.

“Joey, listen to me.” ORB’s muffled voice came through to him from within. “Ghosts are not weak against water type attacks, but there’s a still a way out of this. Sandygasts take advantage of the light density of sand particles to form their body, with the shovel acting as a spiritual connector. Soak the sand and the shovel with a water attack and you’ll destroy their ability to use it.”

“Wouldst thou silence thy tongue?!” the monster cried.

“I do not have a tongue.”

Joey desperately struggled to break free. I ain’t able to do that! He tried to cry that out, but all that produced were muffled yells. Tears welled up in his eyes as he began to lose the tug-of-war. He was gonna be swallowed before he even had a chance to learn who—

“Don’t let your heartbeat quicken, you’re going to be fine,” ORB asserted frankly. “You may not have been taught yet, but it’s simple. Pokémon have dormant energy from within. Search for that energy and release it orally.”

Orally? Like, fire breath, but with water? Joey had no confidence in his ability to do such a thing, but he reckoned he had to try. He thought really hard about ‘water breath’, gargled in his throat, and…

…spat. There was nothing but spit that rolled off of his trapped maw like drool. It was harmless.

“Nary a tutor could save you if one tried,” the sandygast taunted. Joey’s freed legs collapsed in defeat. “How pitiable. What kind of knave would allow a boy to march forth whenst he lacks the simplest—”

His sentence would never finish. The mouth from which the monster spoke was swept away with the rest of the body, collapsing into a heap of wet sand. Suddenly, Joey was freed, sprawled out next to ORB, the shovel, and his precious hat with only a mild stinging feeling in the back. Minichino stood confidently next to the crocodile, her tail magically dampening as it swayed behind her.

“How’s that for a little Aqua Tail action?!” she asked the shadow floating where the sandygast had once been. It reached for the shovel, but she whirled around again, lobbing a small splash of water to completely dampen the shovel. The spirit gave her a furious look before storming off along the beach.

As soon as it was just the two of them, she kneeled down to help him up. “Dude, are you okay?”

“I reckon so?” Joey groaned, grabbing onto her. “Thanks for saving us.”

“No biggie.” As soon as he was back on his feet, Minichino used her now-dry tail to clean him off. After she did the same for it, she handed him his hat. “I can’t believe you found the one hoarding everything before the rest of us!”

“Well, he was hiding it worse than a bear behind a bush,” Joey mumbled as he put his hat back on. Immediately, he felt a little better, as if an old friend had returned to him.

“Can you please stand me up?” ORB, who was still on his side, asked. “It’s hard enough to rebalance when I’ve fallen in dirt.”

“Oh! Sure.”

As soon as Joey helped him back onto his wheel, he began rolling away. “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go tell Mathew to stop running around before Jermy accidentally encourages him.”

“Stop running around?” Joey suddenly looked around. “How are the rest of y’all doing, anyway?”

“Get the hell back here! We’re not done with you yet!”

Mathew’s scream cut through the air. The reptile, looking slightly beaten up, was chasing one large spirit and two smaller ones across the beach, club raised high in the air. Jermy and Demurke were closely chasing after him, yelling over each other trying to explain that Mathew legally has to let them all go. Meowth casually followed all of them, oran berries in his paws.

“Uh, pretty good, I think,” Minichino said.

“All bark and no bite, huh?” Joey remarked. “Kinda makes me feel bad for letting them get to me.”

“Speaking of no bite…” As he approached, Politoed drew the two’s attention. “Was eyeballing your fight while dealing with mine, Joey. Got a question for you.”

The crocodile gulped in response to his tone. Had Politoed noticed ORB guiding him on how to use a water type attack? If they heard, then they’d figure out that something was weird about him for sure. “Uh, sure.”

He crossed his arms. “What’s the story behind you making it all this way without even knowing Water Gun? Not bothered by it, just curious.”

“Well, I…” Joey stalled, fishing for the best lie I could think of. “You see, my mom and dad over in Cosaline threw me out into the street when I was little, and—

“Are you sure they live in Cosaline, Joe?” Breloom, joining the trio in front of Joey, had no malice behind her voice, but didn’t have any doubt either.

Shoot. They saw right through him. “Okay, okay, I don’t really live in Cosaline!” he exclaimed. “It’s just really hard to talk about my actual home, alright? That’s why we ain’t telling the truth.”

“Hey, Joey…” As the three’s demeanors softened, Minichino offered him some comfort, resting a paw on his shoulder. “Sorry if we’re coming on too hard. We don’t mean to make you feel bad. You’re just new! And me, Politoed, and Breloom wanna help all of the new guys we can.”

“Minichino’s right,” Politoed assured him. “Wanna make sure you’re adjusting well. Figuring out why you know so little will help us to teach you, so you can get better.”

“Well…” Joey hesitated for a moment. Politoed was a water type, and seemingly a good one at that. If he would really help him learn, then adjusting Solceus would be a lot easier. But… “I dunno if I should talk about it. I promised not to talk about job stuff.”

“We’re not asking about the SEAS job. We’re asking about you,” Breloom said. “You can talk about yourself just fine, yeah?”

“Exactly! Besides…” Minichino stopped to grab a stray bottle and put it in her satchel. When she straightened up, she grinned and gave him a wink. “Whatever you’ve got going on, Politoed, Breloom, and I can handle it. We’re good at keeping secrets.”

Joey felt bad for not keeping to SEAS’ word, but his resistance was slowly giving way. “Okay. I’ll talk.” He took a preparatory breath. “See, I ain’t from around these parts...and I mean really not from around these parts.”

Minichino tilted her head. “What, are you one of those human guys or something?”

“Yeah, I — wait. Hah?” Joey was taken aback. “How the heck did you guess that?”

Just as he said that, the air of the space surrounding the four pivoted. Joey caught Breloom’s grin waver, and Politoed reflexively played with his medallion. Did they know something he didn’t…?

Minichino could only give him another smile and an awkward shrug. “Lucky guess?”

“Most of us grew up hearing legends about people called ‘humans’ crossing over from a place called Earth with a mission in mind,” Politoed informed him. “Happens pretty rarely, only about once or twice every two hundred years.”

“They’re kind of a big deal,” Breloom added. “Since they aren’t natural-born Solceans, they can get involved with the Legendary Court from time to time. The opinion on them keeps flipping. On one hand, some of them help solve a lot of problems. On the other hand, the few who cause problems tend to make for pretty ugly situations.”

“All that is to say, good or bad…” Politoed kneeled down and booped his maw. “You’re pretty special.”

Joey appreciated the explanation, although he couldn’t help but lean his head away bashfully. “I ain’t so sure about that…”

“Are you kidding?! It’s super crazy to actually meet one for real!” Minichino exclaimed. “I have so many questions! Like, what do humans look like? What kind of cool powers do they have? What does ‘fuck’ mean?”

“We’re kinda hairy and we stand on two legs, we have opposable thumbs and sweat, and…you’re gonna have to ask Mathew on that one,” Joey said.

“Oh, is Math one, too?” Breloom asked.

Joey bit his tongue. “Don’t tell him or anybody else I said a word about this,” he pleaded. “I reckon if I get him out of wack, it’ll make getting this job at SEAS a lot harder. And if we don’t get the job, it’ll make finding my mom and dad and figuring out who the heck I am a whole new can of—”

“Woah, woah, woah, walk it back for a second!” Minichino cut in with surprise. “What do you mean, figure out who you are?”

Joey hesitated. Should he really tell them this much? Well, he supposed that he’d gone this far already, and they did really want to help… “All of my memories since I showed up on Solceus yesterday are more blank than a ripped-up art canvas. It ain’t a big deal, because after I work things out with SEAS, I can—”

“So you’re telling me you’ve lost your memories and you’re not out there taking on the world until you get them back?” Breloom sounded amazed. “I’ve gotta say, that takes some serious restraint. If I were wearing your claws, I wouldn’t stop moving until I had everything sorted out.”

“Well, I can’t exactly do that.” As much as, admittedly, he kind of wanted to, now that Breloom brought it up. “I got Mathew to worry about. He remembers Earth, so I know he’ll help me once we’re all settled. And if I stay in SEAS, looking for more clues will be a whole lot easier.”

The conversation screeched to a halt as the trio shrunk away in thought. Minichino idly filled her satchel, and Breloom tapped her lip with a claw. It was like they were waiting for somebody else to put fuel in the fire of the conversation again.

That role fell to Politoed. “Might just have an idea now.” As a show of demonstration, Politoed raised his head and fired a stream of bubbles from his mouth. The mesmerized crocodile watched them fly along the wind, popping on the surface of the ocean. “Tomorrow, after work, we’ll meet in front of Minichino’s place, and I’ll teach you how to use water moves just fine. Could even bring Mathew and the rest of club, too. Then you’ll be able to adjust to Solceus and blend in easier.”

Joey was amazed by the offer. Special training time with normal Solceans? He was nervous at the prospect of having everyone there, but this sounded extremely helpful. “Sounds like a rodeo.”

“Yeah! I’m not sure what a rodeo is, but awesome!” Minichino cheered. “I’ll have to make sure I’m ready for guests. Sounds like it’s time to clean the place top to bottom!”

Breloom gave a nod, then crouched down to Joey’s height. “In the meantime, don’t let whatever SEAS is pushing you to do here at the club freak you out,” she advised. “They’re just a company. You should take things one step at a time. Maybe you could focus more on cracking that noggin, if you can. Not having memories is a pretty big deal.”

Although he had some concerns at first, Joey was not regretting being honest with his fellow Club members. It was hard to deny that he was getting swept up in SEAS’ plan for them more than he was hunting for his past. Maybe it was high time he flip those priorities back to where they should belong. “Sure, pardner.”

Chapter 7: Spiraling Down

Chapter 6: Spiraling Down

Mathew was never a fan of fancy meals — it just wasn’t his style. To him, these sorts of lavish establishments were more of a celebratory place, one of those restaurants your coworkers dragged you to after a job well-done and you never went back again. But if that was the kind of place Meowth was currently dragging him off to after their workday at Asulaguah Beach, he was certainly not going to complain.

The two-story, red-bricked building before them was pleasant, though not the most eye catching. Past those windows, Mathew could see cloth-covered tables, a bright red checkered floor, waiters running about, families calmly eating… Wait, was that a dish of pasta on that bidoof’s table?

The cubone’s eyes danced from one plate to the next. Alfredo, ravioli, spaghetti, breadsticks, every table was eating something similar. What the hell? That’s Italian food! “Since when was Olive Garden on Solceus…?” he muttered to himself.

Meowth stopped walking, tilting his head in confusion. “Olive garden?”

Shit. “Uuuhh…” Would Meowth know if Mathew tried to explain a food chain that only existed on Earth? He decided not to take chances. “I was just saying I bet…I’ll-live this meal…?”

It didn’t make sense. Mathew’s pun didn’t make any sense and both of them knew it. Mathew just grinned awkwardly, pretending that he had made a meaningful joke, hoping Meowth would accept a reality where that was true.

Miraculously, Meowth just shook his head and took the lead. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

Off to a great start… Mathew thought as he followed the gray cat. He was glad that somebody had so kindly promised him a place to speak his mind, but when their lives were literal worlds apart, navigating conversation wasn’t easy.

As they made for the doors, Mathew looked up and thoroughly studied the restaurant’s name, hoping to commit it to memory and purge any combination of olives or gardens. The sign that hung above it read ‘Silvalla’s: Protect Your Town, Protect Your Appetite!’

“Protect your what?” Mathew whispered. This time, he asked Meowth directly. “What does that slogan even mean?”

“Silvalla’s the owner of this restaurant, and he’s also the owner of the Kalmwa’er Service Guild,” Meowth explained as a spherical, hedgehog-like waiter came to direct them to a table for two. “Apparently, this restaurant is one of the ways they fund the staff to take care of the town and deal with outside threats. Trust me, the food is better than the slogan.”

The two passed by tables populated by several smaller pokemon. An igglybuff and a tiny joltik sat on miniature chairs as they ate at the miniature table. Their quilladin waiter, Mathew guessed, led them to the back of the restaurant, where the tables were wider and the ceiling was higher.

“What kind of drinks can I get you?” the quilladin asked.

“Coca c—” Mathew had to bite his tongue to stop himself. “Do you have sodas?”

“Yeah!” the quilladin said cheerfully. “We’ve got Bubblim, Cheruya, Dragnroud…”

“If you’ve not tried it before, I’d recommend Dragnroud,” Meowth advised. “It’s not the most fancy soda, but it has a nice taste.”

“It does sound pretty badass…” Mathew turned to the quilladin. “I’ll take that.”

“Gotcha!” Then the quilladin was upon Meowth, waiting in anticipation. “And you will have…?”

“Water,” Meowth said.

“Ah, the boring one! I get you,” he joked as he left the table, leaving them to their menus. Meowth didn’t react to the tease at all, at least not visibly.

Mathew grabbed the plastic menu and began reading the…what the heck?! All of these food names were Italian, too! How was that possible when everything he had read up to now was English? Was there some kind of Poké-Italy out there he wasn’t aware of, where they invented the Poké-pizza? Where had they even learned to make cheese, anyway? Did the miltanks milk themselves and discover it, or was there some cheese pokémon out there he wasn’t aware of?

“You look confused.”

Mathew shook out his tirade of internal questions. “Sorry. The food names are just, uh, something, is all.”

Meowth nodded, looking down at his menu. “The story is that a human introduced this kind of cuisine a few hundred years ago. The weird names are in some foreign language.”

“Huh, that makes—” Mathew had to do a double-take. “I’m sorry, what?”

Meowth’s eyes rose from his menu in a flash. “Have you not heard of them?”

“Nope,” he lied, avoiding eye contact with him.

Thankfully, he didn’t press any further, returning to the menu. “It’s been happening for a long time. Every century or so, somebody shows up from this other world — called ‘Earth’. They tend to leave some kind of lasting impact here. Sometimes they remain until they die, sometimes they find a way home.”

“And you know about this…how?”

“A class in Higher Ed. Basically any educational institution would mention it in their recent history curriculum.”

Mathew had never been more happy for their waiter to arrive with drinks and a plate of garlic bread. The strange tension Mathew suddenly felt eased as soon as their table was populated. Meowth slurped away at the drink, then took a nibble at the crust of one of the delicacies.

Mathew, on the other hand, stared at the container the quilladin had delivered his soda in. “This is a bowl.”

“And? You want your drink on a plate?” Meowth asked.

“No, I wanted it in a…” This time, Mathew stopped himself. Glasses and cups wouldn’t accommodate for all kinds of pokémon, so it made a bit of sense that they’d opt for bowls instead. “Nevermind.” Mathew lifted the bowl to his — splash. He had shoved the bowl of fizzy sweetness straight into his snout. He lurched back, Dragnroud dripping from it. “Ack, damn it!” he gasped, then took a thick napkin to his skull mark. He took it more slowly this time, raising it up to his mouth and taking careful swigs.

Meowth was bemused by the class-act he was presenting right now. Mathew knew it looked bad — this should all come naturally to him. “You really are an unusual one, Mathew.” Bizarrely, he bit into his garlic bread from the side, getting right to the chessy innards. “I’m surprised you can insert color contacts into your eyes if you can’t recognize your own snout.”

Mathew figured it’d be better to avoid that line and turn the conversation towards what they had came here for. “Yeah, well, my whole life’s been pretty unusual recently.”

“I’ve noticed. You got up excessively early this morning,” Meowth remarked. “Why are they working you so intensely?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t really know myself.” Mathew took another swig out of his bowl, hoping he didn’t look like he was lying out of his teeth. “There’s a lot of weird things going on with the place. Like, I don’t even know who runs the company yet! I get keeping shit in the dark, but man, they might as well be the void of space sometimes.” The cubone shook his head, realizing he was getting sidetracked with this tangent. SEAS wasn’t what he really wanted to discuss, anyway. “So, long story short, they really aren’t helping what I’m going through right now, and that’s why I need you to lend an ear.”

Meowth nodded quickly. “It sounds like this ‘SEAS’ company acts pretty unfairly to you. What is it, exactly, that they have you and Joey doing?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you that.” He wasn’t interested in telling Meowth that he had been quietly NDA’d since it’d only get them more off-topic. “I mean, you know what they say…”

Meowth looked at him blankly as he finished off his garlic bread. “I don’t really know what ‘they’ say, actually.”

“Uh, curiosity killed the cat? Have you never heard of that?”

“Curiosity did what to the cat?” Meowth’s expression intensified. “What are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing! It’s just a saying!” he exclaimed. To calm himself down, he grabbed one of the pieces of garlic bread and wolfed the entire thing down his mouth. Chewing on the crunchy crust was therapeutic enough to satisfy him. “Anyways, none of this has to do with what I wanted to talk about. Can I start on it now?”

“Hang on,” Meowth stated. “I’ll listen after you explain this idiom to me.”

He can’t be serious right now… “Isn’t it obvious? It means that you shouldn’t look into something too hard because then you might not like what you find.”

“Okay, that makes sense…” Meowth seemed to genuinely contemplate this. “And who is ‘the cat’ referring to in this situation?”

“Oh, for God’s — it’s a hypothetical!” Mathew exclaimed. “The cat doesn’t exist. He isn’t real. Can we please get to the actual session now?”

“Alright, alright…” Meowth sighed. “So, is this ‘thing’ you’re vaguely referring to a home matter? A past job? Some other trouble?”

“I…guess you could call it a home matter?” He raked the nail of his thumb against the table. “I dunno, really. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Maybe we could start with how your work with SEAS relates to it and try to reach the root from there.”

Okay, that’s enough of this. Meowth wasn’t giving any care at all into what he was saying, that much was clear. “Did you actually bring me here so I could have a place to work out my problems, or did you just want an excuse to hear yourself talk?”

Surprisingly, Mathew’s cutting question got results out of him. “I assure you, I’m not trying to diminish you. As soon as you answer my questions, I will gladly answer yours.”

Mathew wanted to agree to that pretense, that Meowth really had good intentions. But now, what Politoed and Breloom were saying about Meowth was all too clear. “Y’know what? I don’t believe you. You have a medical degree, and everyone’s been saying you’re half-therapist. You, of all people, should know what comes first in a conversation like this.”

“That sounds pretty selfish of you.”

The cubone intensified. “Do you have any idea how much I went through to even get over here? I don’t have a home, I don’t have half of my belongings, I don’t have my s… I gave up damn near everything!” He smacked the table they were sitting on. “Maybe I deserve to be a little selfish for once.”

Meowth gave him a deadpan, almost disappointed expression. “So what you’re saying is, any issue that I may be dealing with at this point is entirely irrelevant to the conversation.”

Mathew rolled his eyes, looking away from Meowth. “Oh my God, just forget it. I had this lunch with you because I thought you would help, but clearly this isn’t working…”

The cubone looked to Meowth, and suddenly, something…changed. He felt so drowsy…so woozy… The restaurant faded out of view. It was just him and Meowth now… An overwhelming sense of persuasion flooded him, and suddenly his will to resist vanished, looking into Meowth’s green…glowing…eyes.

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.” Every word Meowth said permeated his senses, resonating across Mathew’s entire being. “Mathew, I’ll just be upfront and ask. What does your work have to do with my father?”

“Joey and I…we work in the resort…basement…the Waregle,” Mathew whispered without hesitation. “He’s not around… I haven’t seen him outside of the…Club…”

Meowth squinted, seeming annoyed at the answer. “No involvement? Why even use the resort for training, then?”

“It’s a good space…to be athletic. They’re getting me to…adjust to my...cubone body. If I do well…I get promoted into a good job.” His voice was noticeably soft, even in this state. Was anybody else even seeing this…?

The cat was baffled by what he was saying. “Your cubone body? Do you have another one?”

“No. I…was a human before.”

Those glowing eyes widened. A stillness hung in the air as Meowth’s expression transformed from annoyance to horror at what he just said. “…You definitely didn’t want me to know that.” He hurriedly clapped his paws together, and in an instant the world came back into view — and so, too, did the implications of what Mathew had just said.

“What the fuck did you do to me?!” Mathew’s scream caught the eyes of everybody in the restaurant. He scrambled around, knocking over his bowl and his silverware as he pushed out of his seat.

Meowth rose, looking desperate. “Mathew, wait—!”

“Get the hell away from me!” He burst into a sprint, rushing past customers and waiters alike as he made for the door. Mathew had to get away from him — away from whatever thing he just did to get him to spill his big secret.

He had fallen straight into Meowth’s trap, and it horrified him.

---

Well, that hadn’t gone exactly according to plan.

When he finally decided to pull out his hypnosis ability, he had anticipated a pretty mundane, but revealing explanation of Mathew’s work. Worst case scenario, he’d tick Mathew off for a while, possibly get a stern talking to, and then everyone would move on, keeping him equipped with the knowledge to unravel the truth Mr. Persian was keeping from him.

The moment he realized he’d accidentally goaded Mathew into revealing his humanity to him, he knew this was going to blow up in his face far worse than he pictured.

It started when two members of the Kalmwa’er Service Guild stormed the restaurant, gunning for his table. Apparently they were answering a call of possibly illegal coercion via hypnosis made by one of the other guests. Meowth turned himself in willingly, allowing them to drag him to town hall for interrogation. Fortunately, they let him keep his leftovers — although they had to stay in the massive gloved hand of the familiar interrogator.

“Eheheheh!” Despite the lack of any kind of mouth, Poliwrath had a hearty, unforgettable laugh. The blue, burly toad-ish figure could’ve easily knocked him out, based on the sports tape-like power bands wrapped around both arms, but instead, he resorted to mockery. “Well Chip, it looks like I done won this bet!” he said.

“To be fair, sire, I did say you had the better end of the bet,” Poliwrath’s colorful parrot of a partner-in-crime replied in his sing-songy tone. “If I had a say, I would’ve bet that Meowth would get arrested within three years out of Higher Ed any day of the week.”

Meowth reclined himself in the metal chair, getting comfortable. These two were one grade lower than he was, just fresh out of Higher Ed themselves, but they had plenty of secondhand experience with him thanks to the amphibian’s older brother.

“Alright!” Poliwrath plopped himself into a chair on the opposite side of the interrogation room, past a hardened glass wall. The chatot stood next to Meowth to ensure he didn’t try to escape, wearing a pair of dark type-imbued goggles that his hypnosis would never pierce. Meowth couldn’t tell which one was supposed to be playing the bad cop. He probably wasn’t worth a good cop. “Meowth, every time I reckon you can’t fall any farther, well, ya just go right ahead and do. Forced coercion on a dinner partner and, knowing yer line of work, a potential client? That just ain’t right.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Meowth said. “Would an explanation do me any good here?”

“Honestly, I doubt there’s a point to that, Meowth.” Idly, Chip fiddled with the pair of headphones wrapped around his neck, wired to some kind of music-playing device clipped to his side. “We know you. We know the crime. We know what you always do after something like this. Why bother, when you’ll just be like…” Chip’s voice suddenly deepened into a perfect vocal impression of him. “There’s no poooint to aaaaanything. I’ll just keep being baaaaad.”

“‘Ey, Chip!” Poliwrath had said. “I agree with ya, but we got a protocol to fill! It’s our job to at least try to rehab ‘em.”

“I’m just saying what I see, sire! Nobody can make this guy chin up.”

Poliwrath had shot Chip a mischievous look. “Wanna bet on it?”

It took a moment of contemplation for Chip to make a decision. “Eh… Sure. We need to get another one going, after all. I’m putting a thousand on it.”

At that moment, Poliwrath cackled, as if Chip had just fallen into a trap. “Oh baby, we’re goin’ on a win streak!”

It took considerable effort to keep himself from curling up in frustration. He was ready for this to be over. “What’s the punishment, then?”

“Right, right.” Poliwrath waved an arm to shake off his own distraction. “Meowth, I reckon this charge could go any number of directions. I done seen small fines, I done seen jailtime… I got options, so I got a chance to make a sentence that really puts a petty troublemaker like you on the ropes. I reckon I can do that the same way I solve my debates: with a deal!”

“A deal.” Meowth had little knowledge about the workings of the Service Guild, so he was taken a little by surprise. “Is that legal?”

“If it was illegal, I wouldn’t be doin’ it, now would I? I reckon I’ll just have to run it by ol’ Silvalla after we’re done,” Poliwrath said. “That victim ‘o yours, the cubone? If he can come to Chip or me in a couple weeks’ time, we’ll scale your punishment based on the harm done. If he tells me, of his own free will, that yer a good guy after all that, we’ll drop the charge and look away like it never happened. If he doesn’t…” If he had a mouth, Poliwrath would’ve given him the most devilish grin imaginable. “Well, you can kiss that medical license goodbye. You ain’t got the moral character for one!”

That threat haunted Meowth through the rest of his questioning and all the way home. Not only did he now risk losing the product of six years of study, but now he risked giving up his chance to find the truth. His medical proficiency was the excuse Mr. Persian used to employ him. If he lost it, would his father still be willing to keep him where he is?

As he slowly prodded through streets and caught a ride home on the gondola, the consequences truly sank in. He had risked the only thing of value that he possessed — and he wasn’t even sure if it helped him in his pursuit.

He blew it. Of course he did.

As soon as he pushed open the door to his condo, three pairs of eyes were on him, and the tension in the room spiked. Joey, Jermy, and Minichino were sitting in front of some kind of TV-like box. Next to the box was a wired remote-thing that had been left untouched. Meowth could read the word ‘paused’ on the screen. Mathew was nowhere to be seen.

Joey was the first to speak up. “Uh, hi, Meowth.”

“Hi.” Meowth glanced at Minichino. “Why are you here?”

“I let her in,” he explained. “She said she had something real important she needed to tell you. Is...is that okay?”

I sure hope it is, Joey was certainly thinking, because I bet you’ll hypnotize me too if I make the slightest of mistakes.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Meowth looked to the visitor. “What do you need?”

“You know, on second thought,” Minichino remarked as she sunk into his couch. “I dunno, I don’t feel like I should tell you anymore. Maybe another day.”

Maybe never.

“So he explained it already, then?” he asked them.

“Uh, bits and pieces?” Jermy said. “He was playing a game on this thingamabobber he brought with him to calm down earlier, and then he suddenly went upstairs for some—”

Just then, the sounds of dragging could be heard from above. Mathew slowly moved down the stairs backwards, pulling his oversized backpack down with him. He didn’t address Meowth at all. “Okay, almost down…”

“Hey.” Meowth approached the refrigerator and pried it open by pushing his elbow against the handle. “I brought food from Silvalla’s, Mathew. I thought you might want it later.” He clearly set it on one of the shelves.

He stopped on one of the stairs and glared at him. “You can keep it.” Then he went back to pulling. “Joey, get the scrapbook and whatever else you got. We’re moving to the condo.”

Jermy sprung out of his sitting position, looking panicked. “Wait, what?!”

“Why are you so surprised? I am not living in the same house as that…thing.” Mathew set the backpack down at the foot of the stairs, then turned to Meowth. “I might get fired over what you got me to say with whatever weird thing you did to me! Did you think I’d be okay with being anywhere near you after that!?”

“Wait, you hypnotized him?!” A flash of panic, than a wave of irritation came over Minichino. Her paws clenched and her tail straightened as she marched over to him. “Dude, I just thought the session went bad or something. That’s way different!”

Meowth couldn’t look any of them in the eyes. He shuffled around his kitchen, picking up dirtied plates and moving them into his opened dishwasher. “It was a mistake. I had a reason to do it, but—”

In a single motion, Minichino pushed Meowth away and slammed the dishwasher shut. Pay attention to me! she was crying out. “You can’t keep acting like this. This club’s way bigger than just yourself, you know? This could get everyone in hot water!”

Meowth eyed the living room. Mathew was preoccupied with shutting down the mysterious box. Jermy was blabbering something into his ears, but he hardly seemed to care. Joey was still on the couch, worried eyes shifting between the two pairs. He put the plates in his paws down. “Look. You wouldn’t understand, but there’s a reason I’m still here despite hardly being a cleaner. I’ve spent so many years wondering why our boss decided to let school babysit me for half of my life, and this is my only chance at finding out. This was stupid, but I don’t know a better way. Sorry.”

Minichino stared at him with a faltering apprehension. Her anger was evident, but for some reason, there was something else in there that Meowth could sense. When she reached over and snatched the plates, he realized what it was: pity. “Well, not being a butt would be a good start.” She swiped the plates clean, put them back, and then made for the door. “I’m gonna head home now. See you guys at work tomorrow.” She was gone before Meowth could even give her a ‘goodbye’.

A loud zrrrrp filled the condo as Mathew closed his backpack, box in tow. “So explain to me why, exactly, you think we can’t move in at the condo now?”

“We just shouldn’t, okay?!” an exasperated Jermy exclaimed. “We’d be boondoggling!”

ORB rolled ahead of the pikachu. “By ‘boondoggling’, he means that the space in the resort that was reserved for you and Joey was taken by now, so there’s no point in wasting your breath on it.”

Mathew met the robot with an annoyed glare. “You’re messing with me. It’s been less than twenty four hours!”

“And Kalmwa’er Resort is a busy place. Any more questions?”

He growled as he tossed his backpack onto the couch by Joey. “Fine! We’ll just go somewhere else then! Maybe Minichino could…” Mathew looked confusedly to the kitchen where Meowth stood. “Where did she go?”

“She just left,” Meowth told him, “after talking with me.”

Mathew was left dumbfounded. What did you do? that look in his eyes asked Meowth, as if he had hurt her somehow. If he told Mathew he didn’t, would he believe him?

He rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his wasted packing. “Well at least somebody here has some goddamn sense.” The cubone stormed off in an angered huff, taking it with him.

No, he wouldn’t. Meowth was sure of that.

Neither Joey, nor Jermy, nor ORB bothered to stop him from making for the door to his room.

He stepped through, slammed it shut, and threw his back at it. Down, down, down he slid against it, his tail pushed to the side, until he was sitting on the hardwood floor.

Why did he do this to himself? Right as it seemed like everything was in perfect place, right as he was feeling on top of his calculated game, he knocked over his own house of cards. He was so close to getting answers, and, at that, forming a decent friendship for once in his life. Now he had neither.

Outside his door, the world carried on. “This day has been wilder than a dog-punting deer,” the voice of Joey carried past the door. “I don’t want all of us fighting. It ain’t fun.”

“I hope so…”

Perhaps, Meowth figured, it was better that he hadn’t mentioned the interrogation. This was already hard enough as it was now.

The cat spent the rest of the night cooped in his room. Joey and Jermy continued to talk and share company. After a while, Mathew joined them again, once he saw that the ‘owner’ wasn’t around. The three’s muffled cheers, cries, and laughter reached his ears as they played on that box together. Meowth had no place there — the door he had shut stood in his way.

Chapter 8: Misleading Demeanors

Chapter 7: Misleading Demeanors

“You’ve known from the start, this melody is a lie. But these lyrics lurk, deep in the back of your mind.”

Breloom’s vocals, sloppier than her mate’s but still capable of carrying a tune, reverberated across the flat, open front yard of Minichino’s white, aged home. From the way the strums of her electric guitar, bolstered by a speaker she had hooked it up to, echoed on the walls of the cliffside surrounding Kalmwa’er, Joey reckoned that just about everyone in town could hear this. All the more volume to batter him with — that was the purpose, after all.

“Then suuuddenly…your rhythm breaks up and contorts,” Breloom kept singing. “Then suuuddenly…your style doesn’t seem like yours. Aa-ah…”

The crocodile wobbled on his toes and waved his arms as he tried to avoid falling out of the roughly circular arena, marked in the grass with tape. Minichino’s tail swings were relentless, keeping him constantly on the back-foot. There was no one else to save him from her fluffy wrath, either, as Mathew was busy playing keep-away with Politoed across from the crocodile.

“Come on, Joey!” Minichino called out as he sidestepped another strike. “When you get pushed to the brink, you gotta push back with all you have!”

“I’m trying harder than a stone in a storm here!” As he stumbled and swayed around Minichino, he kept trying to do what Politoed taught him. Search for a dampness deep in the throat, make it gargle, then launch it from the maw…that was how he described using a water attack. Even still, all Joey had managed to do so far was practice his spit-take. Was completely overwhelming him in a mock-fight like this really going to bring the attack out of him?

“Words so infectious! Wants so contentious! But you...you can still face the fight ahead!”

…well, they were certainly succeeding in overwhelming him, at least.

Hoping to put some distance between him and the chinchilla, Joey dove through the space between Mathew and Politoed, narrowly avoiding the reptile’s club as he poked bubble after bubble with the sharp end. The moment he turned and saw Politoed was facing him now, he realized that might have been a mistake.

“Gotcha!” Minichino leapt forward and tackled Mathew’s side. They scraped against dirt, both tumbling out of the ring.

Joey hardly had a second to process before he was forced to focus on the green frog. He stood tall over him, waving his right arm. “Careful, Joey,” he taunted. “Friends tell me I have a mean slap.”

“All these songs to make you dread, when all this time you could instead, have written up the song to your own head!”

As if mocking him, Breloom brought her song into a bright, energetic chorus as, one step at a time, Joey was backed towards the edge of the ring. He stared up nervously at his crowned friend as he got closer and closer to swinging distance of his maw.

There was no running from this — no friends to save him, no hidden secrets to indulge in instead. But Joey didn’t need to run. The ability to use water attacks is already present inside him, right? If he could just focus on the here and now, then—!

He hardly even had to think about it. The moment he clenched his eyes shut, he felt that dampness deep in the back of his throat. The next thing Joey knew, Politoed had been splashed right in the face.

He swiped at his cheek with his hand, then inspected it. “Not very strong…but it stings.” A grin formed on his face as he looked to Joey. “Congratulations on learning Water Gun, Joey.” Before the the crocodile reacted, he hopped right out of the ring, leaving him the victor.

“Please ignore these big, loud chords, forget the verse and all the words, just show your moves and point your song forwards!” Breloom posed, letting the last chord ring out, before she applauded him. “Heh, and you said we couldn’t get you to use that move by the end of the day.”

Joey looked down at himself in amazement. “It ain’t even that hard…”

“It’s not supposed to be!” Minichino exclaimed. As she spoke, she followed the lightly cracked walls of her home until she picked up a hose intended for a much larger pokemon. With some force, the creaky faucet turned, and soon she was spraying the dirt right off of herself. “Learning abilities like that happens all the time. Give it some practice, and I bet you’ll be as good as me!”

“Really? Wow.” Joey was amazed by how much faith Minichino seemed to put in him to navigate his situation. “I reckon Jermy and Demurke are gonna be happy to hear about this,” he said as he looked to Mathew.

“Yeah, probably,” the dirt-covered reptile said. “I wonder why they had to stay at the res—gah, hey!” Mathew brought his arms up as Minichino splashed him with the hose.

“Sorry, dude! I’m not letting you run around looking like that!” Minichino giggled as she kept the hose focused right on—

Knock, knock. “Hey.”

Stronger than any hose, that voice wiped the smiles right off of everyone’s faces. Every eye was immediately on the cat that had knocked on the unpolished wooden fence dividing the yard from the street.

Joey could only grimace. During their workday this morning, Minichino had told Mathew that they were going to meet at Minichino’s place to help Joey practice, and that he was invited. Unfortunately, she had to explain this to him right in front of everyone else, including Meowth. Joey had wondered if he’d show up, but for Mathew’s sake, he hoped not. Maybe he should have hoped harder.

“Um.” Minichino moved to turn off the hose. “I’m pretty sure I only invited Joey and Mathew to this, dude.”

“I know.” He raised his paw, revealing his medical kit. “I just wanted to offer oran berries or any other kind of medical attention, in case your practice got rough.”

Politoed promptly marched over to a corner of the yard and raised a small bucket they’d left there. “Already got some. Minichino grows berries in her back yard, remember?”

“Oh.” Meowth nodded in understanding. “Well, for the future, I can buy even more for y—”

“Stop. Just, stop.” Mathew stomped towards the fence, brandishing his club. “You’re not welcome here, and you never will be.” He got right up in Meowth’s face. Then, he flinched as if he’d just realized something and turned his head away. “So fuck off. Go bother somebody else.”

Mathew’s sharp words bounced faintly against the wall of Kalmwa’er. Distant, unintelligible echoes filled their ears before fading into the noise of daily bustle.

Meowth held firm, staying still for just a moment, before he slouched back down, his kit back at his side. “Fine. Sorry.” he turned and walked away.

Joey watched as Meowth paced down the street. The air in the yard held still in anticipation for as long as he was in view. Slowly, it fizzled away, and the moment passed.

Mathew, expression already softened, turned his head back. “So, what was that about needing to hose me down?”

That was all it took for normalcy to kick in again. Minichino tended to Mathew, Politoed pried the tape from the grass, and Breloom moved to store away her electric guitar.

Joey was the only one still looking.

A revelation came upon Minichino as she put the hose away. “Oh, Mathew, Joey! You guys haven’t tried a berry smoothie before, right?” The moment she received confused looks, an eager glint flashed in her gaze. “I’ve gotta make you two try one before you go! You’ve not lived until you’ve mixed a cheri berry into a drink…!”

Before Joey could process it, he was pulled into the small comfort that was Minichino’s house. It was clearly a home held together with a lot of love and a lot of tape — cracks snaked down the walls, and table legs were wrapped in the stuff to keep them steady. The foyer was little more than an old rug, a couch made just for pokemon Minichino’s size, a small TV, and a few drawers here and there. Flanking it were doorways leading to a bedroom and a bathroom. Ahead was a little kitchen, and beyond that, a sliding door. Minichino was already pulling it aside, making for a bed of soil sprouting plants bearing an assortment of berries.

Joey could feel the silent disappointment radiating from Mathew. This rugged place, although as spotless as a cleaner like Minichino could make it, was hardly equipped for four visitors, much less three tenants. There was no way they could move in with her — no way they could use this to escape from Meowth.

Not that Joey really wanted to ‘escape’.

The previous day still lingered in his mind. He remembered what Meowth told Minichino then — how what happened at Silvalla’s was Meowth’s only chance to find some kind of answer, and how he didn’t know a better way. What Meowth did was obviously bad, but it was hard for Joey to join the group in lauding him when it didn’t seem like he had malicious intentions at all.

It was then that he realized that sitting down at that kitchen table was never going to clear his uncertainty.

“Alright, this should do!” Minichino marched in half-dozen berries of all shapes and colors, promptly dumping them into the bucket of orans. “With these, we can—”

“Actually,” Joey forcefully cut himself in. “I really appreciate y’all offering us a treat, but I just realized I got somewhere else to be today, so I gotta get going.” He made for the door as quick as his little crocodile legs would permit. The sooner he could talk to Meowth, the sooner he could figure out where he stood in this whole—

“Dang, you’re out of here already?” Breloom shimmied around on the couch, trying to find a comfortable angle despite it being too small for her form. She nearly kicked off some kind of golden robe draped over the top. “I was gonna give you guys another serenade or two after we ate.”

“Yeah, since when were we in any kind of rush?” Mathew asked.

“Well, uh…” What was he supposed to tell them? He ain’t good at lying on the fly! “I wanted to…mosey around the neighborhood for a bit…to cool down from the training?”

“Instead of having a refreshing drink with us?” Politoed pressed.

“…Yeah.”

Joey struggled to keep a straight face as he watched the expression in Mathew’s eyes shift from confusion to grave concern. “You’re not going after him, are you?”

“No!” His tone was way too high.

“Joey…” he approached him at an urgent pace, nearly resting a hand on his arm. “Please, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid?” That word lit some kind of spark in him. “I reckon the real ‘stupid’ thing here is turning away somebody trying to be nice to y’all and make up for a mistake.”

The tense air was back. Both of Mathew’s hands clung to his club, as if it were Joey’s arm. “Him offering something nice is exactly how all this started.”

“The chances he’s gonna hypnotize me are slimmer than a slip of paper!” Joey looked to Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, who were watching the conversation with stunned expressions. “Does Meowth do that to folks often?”

The three looked among each other until Politoed spoke up. “First I’ve heard of him having that move, to be honest.”

“I mean, he probably won’t do anything to you,” Minichino said. “But like, why go after him?”

Joey’s maw quivered. “I want his side of the story here too, okay?!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know Meowth like y’all do. How can I hate what I don’t know?”

Mathew seemed perturbed by his answer, but his expression quickly sobered as he idly tightened his tie. “Joey, there isn’t any kind of ‘side’ you’re missing from people like him,” he said firmly. “He’s a waste of air who does shitty things, and will do more shitty things in the future. His kind doesn’t change — I’ve seen enough to know that. So don’t go treating him like some innocent kitten.”

“A little much, Mathew…” Politoed mumbled.

“Oh, so now you can yammer on all about how things used to be?” Annoyance bubbled within Joey. Where was this when they were talking about his home life? He decided then and there to just turn tail and make for the door. “I ain’t doing this anymore. I’d rather be with Meowth if you’re gonna act like such a stick in the mud.” In just a second or two, he was already partway to the front gate.

“What?!” The long nails on Mathew’s feet clacked against the porch, angered tone supplanted by panic. “Joey, hang on—!”

“Let him go, Mat,” Breloom called.

“On his own? Are you insane?!”

“Well, you’re not gonna convince him with your words at this point. He’s made up his mind, so…”

That was the last Joey could hear of them before he was too far from Minichino’s home. He felt a little guilty for getting so heated — he would have to apologize to everyone later. But when the crocodile felt driven, he could hardly hold himself back.

If Meowth had planned to go straight home after getting rejected, Joey knew just where to look to find him. All he had to do was look up at the thick cables and slender gondola cars running over his head. If Meowth wasn’t already in one of those, he must be waiting for one at the station.

It wasn’t long before the crocodile arrived to the elevated platform where pokémon were let in and out of the gondola car. Blue stanchions formed a winding path towards the platform, shaded by a high-hanging ceiling. There was only one person standing in line, waiting.

“Meowth!” Joey called to him he ducked under the stanchions and joined him at the front of the line. “Hi.”

The cat’s eyes widened in surprise. Then, they softened as he turned away and crossed his arms. “Where’s Mathew?”

“He ain’t here. They were gonna fix berry smoothies.”

“And you didn’t stay?”

Joey shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you instead.”

His long whiskers flicked as he watched one of the cars approach the platform. “If you want to tell me off yourself, you could save it for when you come back to the condo.”

“Not that kind of talk!” Joey exclaimed. “I ain’t here to tell you off. I just…wanna understand what’s going on with you.”

The crocodile had anticipated that the cat would probably just shrug and say “Whatever.” At best, he might even nod and agree to it. What he hadn’t expected was for Meowth to look at him with…real, genuine surprise. It was as if the very question was foreign to him.

As the whir of machinery filled their ears with the arrival of a gondola car, he shook off that expression. “After we board,” he said, before climbing up the ramp to the slowing car. The doors opened on their own, welcoming them in so long as they watched their step.

Joey carefully leapt in, hopped into one of the cushy seats -- and then, out of the corner of his eye, a brown figure dashed between the gap of two buildings surrounding the platform. Was he seriously…?! Well, at least Mathew was looking out for him, he supposed.

It took a moment for Joey to gather his thoughts, long enough for the gondola to make its ascent. In the meantime, he looked down at the down as they climbed upward, leaving the ground behind. From up here, Joey could see the market and the marina, and what looked like the makings of a college campus…and Kalmwa’er Resort, towering over it all.

Meowth didn’t seem nearly so interested in the view below. Instead, he stared straight at Joey, as if he wasn’t there and the full view of the ocean behind him was on display. “So…what do you mean by ‘what’s going on with me’?”

“Well, I just wanna know why,” Joey told him. “Why you took us all in, why you hypnotized Mathew…why folks don’t like you.”

Meowth raked a claw against his chair in contemplation. “You wouldn’t understand. Most people don’t. I’m not sure an explanation would help anything.”

“No, Meowth, an explanation would help everything!” He scrunched up in his seat, pouting. “Everyone else never wants to talk about things, either. It’s annoying.”

The car rattled a little, mildly swaying. Meowth gave a long sigh. His tail shifted from one side to the other, pointing in the direction of the campus below. “When I was thirteen, my father paid so that I could attend the Kalmwa’er School of Higher Education, over there. I graduated last year with an official medical license last year, so I can act as a medic or physician in various fields.”

“That’s real cool!” Joey said. “You must’ve worked like crazy.”

“Sure.” Meowth’s expression was contemplative — it seemed like he was struggling to decide if he should say what’s on his mind. “You know… I don’t really remember a lot about Higher Ed. Just studying all the time and getting into arguments.” He gave a weak laugh. “Kind of sad, right? Six years of my life and it all feels hollow now.”

“Hollow?” Joey cocked his head.

“In all that time, I never saw my father once. The moment he could, he took me out of his life and buried himself in that Resort. Then when I finally saw him again, all he wanted was to hire me into this mediocre trash-cleaning job.” He slouched in his seat. “I thought this might be my chance to find out what changed. What he did, or I did…so I can make him answer for it.”

Joey brought a hand to the closest thing he had to a chin. “And you see me and Mathew as the way to your dad?”

He tensed up, seeming taken aback by the deduction. “That’s right… Hypnotizing Mathew wasn’t my plan, but I was desperate to find out anything about my father -- I didn’t mean to make him spill his big secret. But no amount of apologies are going to fix this.” He slumped against the glass. “Something like this always happens with my connections. That’s how it went with everyone else.”

“Oh…” Joey could only listen in sympathy. If he had made stupid mistakes and lost all his friends, Joey reckoned he’d be a pretty sour person with a one-track mind, too.

“I know why you came to talk to me.” He leaned in. “You think you can help me out of this rut? I wouldn’t bother. You’d be wasting your time, just to probably end up despising me too.”

Joey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Meowth hardly knew who he was, and already he was ready to write him off as another hater. “This is all just a bunch of quitter talk, Meowth!” He tried to stand, but promptly sat back down when he felt the gondola car swing a little.

“Am I wrong to think that way?” Meowth asked. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the kind of person who changes opinions easily.”

“Well, if you’re in the business of finding answers about your dad and wanting to patch things up with Mathew, you came to the right croc,” Joey said. “We’re both looking for the same thing here!”

“Answers about your father?” Meowth asked, curiosity piqued. “This is the first I’ve heard of this.”

“I don’t remember anything about my life before I became a croc. Nothing about myself, or my mom, or my dad. Mathew apparently knows everything, but he ain’t saying a peep about it. I got fewer leads than a dog in a spooky house.”

“Amnesia…” Meowth hung his head. “That’s unfortunate.”

“It is. But I reckon that, if we put our noggins together, maybe we’ll be able to fix things up around here.” Joey tightened his hands, feeling more determined than ever.

He gave him a solitary ‘heh’. “You make it sound so easy. I didn’t mention this until now, but we’re also on a time-limit here. The Kalmwa’er Service Guild wants to take my license away for what I did to Mathew. If things don’t change soon…”

Joey gawked. “They can do that?!”

“Seems so.”

The crocodile was concerned…at least, at first. “Well, I reckon we were already on short time already. We’ll probably only be hanging around in Kalmwa’er for as long as this recruitment takes, after all. What’s a little less time?”

“You’re awfully optimistic.” He shook his head, but for the first time, Joey could see a weak grin on his face.

Joey smiled back. “Ain’t worth being anything else, if you can help it.” Their ride was almost over now -- the gondola was sliding in to the platform at the top of the cliffside. He stood up and offered a fist. “Help Ourselves Squad?”

Meowth slowly rose up met his fist with his own. “Sure. Help Ourselves Squad.”

---

“This is outrageous!” Jermy slammed the desk in frustration. Before him and Demurke was a formally-written statement handed down from the business division — and what it said was unpleasant. “Do they think we’re miracle workers?!”

Demurke lifted herself from the chair and pulled the sheet towards herself. “F-Friday of next week? I-I’ve never seen a turnaround this…short. It’s usually a m-month, at least.”

Across the office desk, David was firmly planted in an Earth-style office chair, peering at the large window where the late-afternoon sun gleamed through. As far as Jermy knew, this was the first time his boss had been in Mr. Persian’s top-floor office. Due to the urgency, they were using it as a makeshift, short-notice meeting room. Seeing the ocean from this high up while not in the middle of berating Jermy in his talons must be nifty to him.

“If it makes you two feel better, this doesn’t have anything to do with how the recruitment’s going,” he told them. “I hear they’re temporarily freezing the recruitment program. No more new humans, and every recruit’s getting their plan accelerated.”

“Freezing it?” Jermy’s ears flicked as a wave of concern came over him. The last time they froze recruitment… “What’s going on?” he asked seriously.

David sighed. “I can’t tell you that, unfortunately.”

The whir of the ventilation filled the air between them. “’scuse me?” Jermy was used to David being a stick in the mud, but this? “Aren’t I your trusted assistant?”

“Yes, I know, it’s irritating, but it’s not my call to make. It’s her…” David looked away from him. “Demurke?”

She flinched, eyes from the window to David as if she’d been woken up from slumber. “S-Sorry! I…”

“But I’m a part of this whole thing too!” Jermy exclaimed. He was. “Don’t I deserve to know?”

David shook his head, letting Demurke be in favor of addressing him. “How so?”

He grimaced. Already he could feel his own argument withering. “I’m your assistant, and—!”

“And he is currently acting as a recruiter.” ORB, sitting up against Jermy’s chair, was there to rescue him. “While he is a part of the science division first, at the moment he is doing the work of a business division member. As a result, he has a right to know.”

His boss leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’ll give you that much. But this is tight-lipped even with some of the recruiters. And after what happened yesterday, unfortunately, there’s a pretty good reason for that knowledge to stay out of your wings — er, hands.”

Crud. He’d almost forgotten about the whole debacle with Meowth. That information had passed quickly up the grapevine, and now the whole organization might as well know about it. It didn’t mean squat that there was Hypnosis involved — it made Mathew look untrustworthy, and even worse as a candidate for their pursuits. He buried himself in his chair. “This is going to take...so much work to course-correct.”

David gave him a stern nod. “Do you see why I was worried about them living with Mr. Persian’s child, now?”

Jermy and Demurke sat in silence. They didn’t have any retort to give this time. This risk of theirs hadn’t paid off at all.

He shook his head, rising up from the desk. “Well, if we want to redeem Mathew in their eyes, we’ll need some kind of plan. I’m going to head back to my lab and draft something up. We’ve crawled out of deeper pits before…”

Demurke fluttered out of her seat. “I-I’ve had to improvise a…thing or two for some of the people I’ve recruited. Maybe I c-could help?”

David’s gaze softened. “I’d like that, yes.”

“Wait, what about me?” Jermy flopped out of his chair. “Shouldn’t we all work on this together?”

“Unfortunately, one of us needs to keep an eye on the recruits.” As the two of them moved for the door, David’s eyes squinted. “Somebody has to keep things like that from happening.”

Geez. Way to rub salt in the wound.

“Sorry, Jermy…s-see you later, okay?” With Demurke’s parting, Jermy was left alone to stew in the office.

The pikachu grit his teeth as he paced around the room. This whole thing was Mr. Persian’s fault. If the Club owner hadn’t brought him into their business, then…!

His tense arms slacked, the desire to blame fading fast. It wasn’t reasonable to pin it on him. When he saw the makeshift bed in the corner of the office and the stack of food cans filling his trash bin, Jermy knew that he couldn’t blame Mr. Persian for doing what he did.

With ORB in the corner of his eye, Jermy wondered if, given the chance, he’d have done the same.

Chapter 9: Sharing the Scraps

Chapter 8: Sharing the Scraps

Joey was starting to appreciate living in Meowth’s condo. Sure, the pure glass wall let in an annoying amount of sunlight in the evenings, and Joey couldn’t shake the fear that the whole place would slide down the cliff no matter how many times Meowth tried to assure him. But it was all worth it to see the sunrise in the early hours of the morning.

He’d hardly gotten any sleep last night, despite how badly he needed some. The crocodile’s head spun with thoughts about his future job, his new sort-of partnership with Meowth, and his estranged relationship with Mathew. To quell them, he had settled down on the living room couch and cracked open the reptile’s scrapbook. Joey had been keeping it safe these past few days, combing through it as if new pictures would magically appear to him. He didn’t really feel like he was making any more progress with it, but—

“Good morning, Joey.”

“Oh!” Joey exclaimed before reaching for his maw reflexively. “Hi Meowth,” he greeted in a half-whisper.

Meowth had just slipped out of his room to the side. Immediately, he made his way for the kitchen. “You’re up earlier than usual,” he remarked in a similar whispery tone as he rummaged his way through a cabinet.

“I reckon I could say the same for you. Did you have a bad sleep?”

“Not really. This is around the time I usually get up.” He pried out a store-bought loaf of bread. “You shouldn’t be like me. At your age, you need lots of sleep.”

“Oh.” Joey appreciated the advice, but he didn’t feel like heeding it, especially when Jermy was going to wake them up in a short while anyway. He just stayed quiet as Meowth slid two slices into his toaster.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

“It’s…” Joey stopped to think first. On one hand, this scrapbook was a sentimental gift from Mathew, and he probably wouldn’t shrug off him sharing it with Meowth. On the other hand, even after going over it, Joey still didn’t really know what all this meant for himself. Maybe a second pair of eyes could help him make sense of it? “It’s a scrapbook Mathew gave me. He said it’d help answer my questions about my past, but...to be real honest, I don’t feel like it answers anything. Maybe you’d see something I don’t?”

Meowth paused at that question. “Are you sure I should read that? I admit I was thinking about it, since it’d help me learn what I missed in that botched session, but…” He was quieted by Joey’s nod. “Alright.” Meowth padded over to the couch. Joey welcomed him by making some room and flipped to the beginning. As he sat down, his eyes locked on to the first page. “…What is that?”

“Hah?” Joey looked down and quickly understood what he was asking about. Right in the center was a photo of Mathew standing happily next to a few other humans. “Oh! This is what Mathew and his folks looked like back on Earth! I dunno why this ain’t the front cover. Here.” He handed the book to Meowth.

The cat squinted at the photo. “These are humans? I expected them to look...stronger.”

Joey stifled a giggle. “If they’re anything like what I seem to know, they ain’t.” He pointed to a bearded man in the photo. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mathew.”

“I see…” Meowth tapped Mathew’s face. “What’s that black patch under his mouth?”

“Oh, that’s a beard,” he explained. “Sometimes hair grows around there instead of on top of the noggin. They’re good for scratching when you wanna feel smart.”

“Huh.” Meowth turned the page. He was met with images dated several years back, depicting people in suits and dresses in front of a large pastel-colored cake, topped with strange figurines of laptops and electric guitars. Mathew was there, arm wrapped around a blonde-haired woman. “What’s going on here?”

The totodile gawked at him. “Do y’all not know about weddings?!”

“Not really.” Meowth sprung off the couch — the toaster had finished.

“It’s this big event that happens when two folks have a marriage! Which...is when they give each other pricey rings and say they’re gonna live their whole lives together.” If Meowth didn’t know what a wedding is, Joey figured he might not know what marriage is, either.

He glanced towards him as he set the pair on a plate and slotted in two more slices. “Together like roommates?”

“Together like a couple.”

“Ah,” Meowth said. “Looks pretty garish. And a waste, if that relationship doesn’t work out. Those medallions Politoed and Breloom wear are probably much cheaper.” He shook his head as he returned to the couch. “But that’s beside the point. I see that Mathew was romantically involved.”

“I’d reckon so.” Joey reached over and began turning the pages for him. There were countless photos of gatherings of various kinds — in a city, in a town, inside of unfamiliar homes. Mathew was a persistent face throughout them all, and at that, a rather happy one, especially when paired next to a young boy who he bore some resemblance to.

Meowth was clutching the scrapbook as if a whole new dimension had opened up to him. He took initiative back from Joey and started flipping pages himself. “I never would’ve guessed that Mathew had a family like this…and one that knows how to take some great shots.”

Not sure how to take that last comment, Joey just nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And that’s got me wondering…”

“Hmm.” Meowth hardly paid him any mind, eyes sucked towards the pages until he’d made it to the back cover. Then, he handed it back to Joey, open to somewhere in the second half. “Have you noticed how the photos change at this point, Joey?”

“Yeah.” Joey didn’t need it explained to him. He already noticed how there were fewer and fewer photos of the world outside their cozy home, and of the rest of the family. The woman at Mathew’s wedding wasn’t there, either. She was seemingly replaced by one with scruffy red hair that wore ripped clothes and jeans, and carried a bunny plush with her no matter the occasion. “They’re real different.”

“It’s interesting how much his family seems to change — and the fact that none of them are here with him. I suspect there might be a reason for it.” His tone started to flood with curiosity. “Maybe there was a separation. Does that happen on Earth?”

“Yeah, it’s called a divorce, but—”

“Okay, a divorce could have happened. Though I don’t see how that would necessarily leave Mathew entirely alone. A death? Multiple deaths? Or it could be—”

Pop, went the toaster once more. Meowth continued mumbling to himself as moved to take out the second set of toast and start a third. Joey paid him little mind.

The crocodile found himself returning to the few photos featuring him, having already committed their pages to memory. There was the halloween party with his parents, of course, but in his own time, he’d found a few more. Most of them were unremarkable…except the very last one.

Him and another boy — a boy who appeared in this scrapbook almost as much as Mathew did — were sitting together, side-by-side. An unopened gift bag was on the table next to the other boy. This one photo, of all photos, was the only time he had found himself wearing his cowboy hat. Joey was so used to wearing it now that it was surreal to see it as nothing more than a footnote in the story of this scrapbook.

But there was something more pressing here. Based on the gift, he reckoned this was some kind of birthday or holiday party. So why…were they crying?

They were smiling for the camera, but they couldn’t hide the truth from him. He could see the glint of water in their eyes, the dampness of their cheeks, the little falter in the boys’ smiles. Something was happening here, and Joey, despite having once lived this moment, wasn’t privy to it.

“…your opinion on all this, Joey? Do you have an idea of what could’ve happened?”

His concentration was broken by Meowth’s reintroduction to the couch. “Oh. Well, to be real honest, Meowth, that ain’t what I’m thinking about right now.” He turned the photo towards him. “I just wanna know how I fit into all this. Why Mathew’s so afraid to tell me.”

“Oh.” Meowth guiltily shrunk into the couch, placing one paw on the armrest and the other on his face. “I forgot we weren’t looking at the same things. Sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault. This is nobody’s problem but mine.” He removed his cowboy hat and turned it over, holding it next to the book. “Mathew’s kid — ‘MW’ — I think we used to be friends. And if we were writing our names together into my hat, we had to have been closer than a caterpillar and a cocoon. What did he want me to not forget? I can’t think of any ideas, besides…”

Meowth must have caught his hesitance, as he was swift to pounce on it. “Besides what?”

“Whatever thing that happened to Mathew to make him so on-edge all the time… Do you think I was the one who did it?” Joey looked to Meowth genuinely — he really didn’t want that to be true, but what other explanation was there?

The cat’s expression softened at his words. “Sometimes, the way others act doesn’t always make sense. Mathew’s behavior towards you might mean you did something wrong — or it might not. The only way we can really know is to piece it together ourselves.”

Joey could only sigh, hanging his head. He appreciated the reassurance, at least. “I reckon so…”

“Waaaaaaaaaugh! Turn it off! Turn it oooooooooff!”

Just as soon as it settled, Joey’s head snapped upward in alarm. A chorus of discordant beeps and boops with no rhyme or reason blared through the house, accompanying Mathew’s anguished yells.

“What the heck is going on up there?” Meowth said, squinting.

“No clue.”

Before either had the time to act, the ‘music’ cut out, leaving only the muffled squabbling of Mathew and Jermy upstairs. Things slowly settled, and then stomping footsteps filled the house — heading straight for the stairs.

Panic shot through Joey. Mathew was about to walk in on him showing off the reptile’s own scrapbook to Meowth! He’d planned to put it back in his room before he woke up, but he must have lost track of time. Giving Mathew another reason to blow a gasket would be worse than a flame sprayed with gasoline! Hastily, he slid the book under the couch. It was dusty under there, but it’s the best he could think of.

“Ugh, good morning, Joey,” Mathew groaned as he and Jermy stumbled into the living room. His eyes were grimy and half-open — Joey hoped those eyes wouldn’t see him hastily slinking back into position. They certainly didn’t see Meowth, considering he didn’t bother to greet him. “Weird to see you up earlier than the both of us.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. I had more things on my mind than sheep I could count.” Joey hoped that was vague enough. “What was all that ruckus about?”

“Jermy wanted to wake everyone up in one fell swoop,” ORB explained as he rolled off of the bottom stair, “so he ordered me to bring out the big guns.”

Mathew turned to ORB in annoyance. “Blasting the Crazybus theme into people’s ears should be legally considered torture...”

“Lack of attendance is legally considered grounds for firing.”

He sighed. “Good point.”

“I fixed you all breakfast before you go,” Meowth butted in. With the third set of toast ready, he laid out the plates on a counter, ripe for the taking. “Here.”

“Well, hey! Who doesn’t love a timely…4:30 AM…breakfast?” Jermy’s exclamation fizzled out.

Mathew crossed the living room to study the toast, keeping his eyes off of Meowth the whole way. “You fixed toast and nothing else?”

“Yes. Did you want the leftovers from Silvalla’s?” Meowth asked. “I can heat them up.”

At the mention of Silvalla’s, Mathew stepped back. “Toast is just such a bland meal,” he said firmly. “You don’t even have like, butter or cinnamon or powder or anything?”

Meowth shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t have ingredients like that because I don’t always fix toast in the mornings. Usually, I just want bread.” He grabbed a single slice of bread and bit down on it.

“If you don’t like the toast, I reckon you could still fix a sandwich,” Joey suggested, trying to direct Mathew’s attention away from bashing toast. “I saw some peanut butter in one of the cabinets.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Mathew turned away from the plates, settling down on the couch with no food in hand. He sat where Meowth had been previously — right around where Joey had laid the scrapbook down.

“I’ve had kookier breakfasts before. Plain old toast is nothing to me!” Jermy took two of the plates, handed one to Joey, and then promptly crammed an entire slice into his mouth.

“Woah!” Joey lurched back, both impressed and mildly disgusted.

“Huh?” It took Jermy a moment to realize what had caught his attention. “Oh! Yeah, when you’re as dexterous as me, you can do some surprising things. Like speed-eat to save time!”

“It’s impressive, considering Jermy’s dexterity is below-average,” ORB quipped.

“Hey!”

Joey nodded along with them. From time to time, Jermy would sneak this kind of advice to them — subtle teaching moments about what it’s like to be a pokémon rather than a human. The crocodile found it a little silly. Everyone here recognizes that Meowth already knows, right?

Tap, tap, tap…

The gentle knocks on Meowth’s door may have been softer than a squished pillow, but with no other morning bustle outside, there was nothing to drown it out. Meowth wasted no time in making for the door, half-eaten bread in his paw as he pulled it open. “Oh. Demurke.”

“H-hi, Meowth! I hope you’re…doing okay.” The crow was just outside, peering over Meowth’s shoulder to get a look into the living room. It was tough for Joey to make her out without standing up and looking harder — her dark feathers blended into the twilight outside. “Is everyone a-awake in there?”

Jermy’s ears perked in surprise at the sound of her voice. He briskly marched over to her, forcing Meowth to press himself against the wall so he could pass. “Yeah, we’re rearing to go! How about you? I thought you were still setting up.”

“I was…” she said. “David sent me. I-it’s taking longer to get ready than h-he thought it would. He’s moving th-the start time...back an hour.”

“Back an…” Jermy groaned. “Of course. When any one of us is late, it’s a whole mess, but when he’s late—” The rodent cut himself off at the sight of Demurke’s expression. “Well, I guess that means we don’t have to rush?”

“Yeah, e-exactly!” Even from this distance, Joey could see her red eyes shifting between Jermy and Meowth, a wing raising to her chest. “Then, I guess I should…” She firmly dropped her wing back down. “Would it be okay i-if I stayed here instead of going back?”

“Are you sure?” the cat pushed off the wall, getting in front of Jermy. “It sounded like you were busy.”

“Yeah, but i-it’s been so long since we…hung out together! Outside o-of work, I mean.”

Meowth slouched a little, his gaze narrowing. “I guess it’s fine.” Despite his demeanor, he backed away from the doorframe, letting her through. “If you need to kill some time, there’s probably something good on TV.” He eyed Mathew curiously. “Any recommendations?”

“As if I’d know any TV shows here…” Still, Mathew stretched and got to his feet, moving towards the box across from the couch.

However, Demurke beat him to it. “N-no, I’ll get it…!” she insisted as her wings brushed the bottom of the box.

“—Alliance finally WRAPPED UP its debate with the Great Church of Scolton LAST NIGHT!” The line-laden screen flicked to life, showing a big-mouthed purple pokémon standing before a towering building surrounded by arid, cracked dirt. “It’s official: Legendary War XXII is now OFFICIALLY the GREAT LEGENDARY WAR! The product of SIX days’ worth—”

The screen flicked off, filling the room with an empty buzz. “And there’s...the channel-changing button,” Demurke told Mathew.

Color came back to the TV, but what was there now was completely different. An animated fox with a pure black pelt bounded through off-color hills, chasing after a violet star spinning through a sky full of shapes. The camera stilled on a shot of the fox’s face, contrasted by white, angular eyes.

Demurke’s red eyes lit up as brightly as theirs. “Oh! Is this…Every Star a Catcher?”

“Is that what this show’s called?” Joey asked. He felt like he’d never seen anything quite like it before.

“Yeah.” Meowth filtered back into the living room. “It’s about that fox, Catcher, keeping stars who accidentally fall out of the star world from hitting the ground, then putting them back in the sky. It’s pretty good.”

“Y-you’re a fan?!” She looked to him in surprise. “I a-always wanted to give it a try, b-but…I’ve never gotten the chance.”

He shrugged. “It was good background noise while I worked on assignments.”

Mathew plopped back down. “I mean, we’re not going anywhere for an hour, right? If you wanna watch this umbreon, Demurke…”

She was so eager that she dropped onto the floor, right in front of the TV. Her hat blocked Joey’s view of the TV, but he wasn’t gonna complain.

“You know Catcher isn’t a pokémon, right?” Meowth passed a look at the couch before sitting down on the floor with her. The only open space on the couch was between him and Mathew.

The reptile squinted at Meowth. “You’re telling me that’s not just a stylized umbreon?”

“I bet your britches umbreon was the inspiration, but that doesn’t make them the same!” Jermy took the floor next to the couch, passing both of them a little glare as he sat down. Joey got the sense he was trying to tell them something, but he couldn’t figure out what, so the crocodile elected not to speak.

Besides, the show was starting. He didn’t want to talk over that.

---

“Well, that kind of sucked.”

Mathew’s remark punctuated the rolling of credits as a new show overtook Every Star a Catcher. Jermy had fallen asleep five minutes in, leaving just the recruits, Meowth, Demurke, and ORB as the ones who made it to the end.

“I wouldn’t say it was bad,” Joey said, “but I ain’t really sure what it was trying to say.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Mathew said. “I mean, nothing wrong with a show not being serial, but if you’re gonna be episodic, you should at least do it right.”

Demurke looked away from them both. Joey swore he heard her mumble, “I-I thought it was nice…”

“What was so wrong about it?” Meowth asked, whiskers grazing the static as he flicked the TV off with his claw.

Mathew began to count off on a hand. “It didn’t have interesting characters…” He raised a thumb. “It wasn’t funny…” He raised the rest of his hand. He blinked, and then, with no third digit to raise, lowered it back down. “The visuals were inconsistent…”

“You sound like you’re describing an art gallery,” Meowth said. “This is an animation. Allowing pokémon to express themselves through unique visuals is the point of the show.”

Huh, Joey hadn’t really thought about that. “Well, if that’s what it’s all about—”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Mathew interrupted. “I happen to prefer shows that make me think, that’s all.”

Meowth rolled his eyes. “I really hope you don’t always have to scratch your beard and say ‘hmm, this episode really stimulated my understanding of philosophical concepts’ for entertainment. That sounds very draining.”

“And I hope that you don’t always have to be such a — wait,” Mathew’s expression went from irritated to icy. “I didn’t tell you I had a beard.”

The room went dead silent. Demurke’s head suddenly snapped back, beaded eyes aimed at the panicked Meowth. Meanwhile, Mathew’s gaze shifted from the cat to him. Joey could feel his grasp on the couch cushion tighten as his leg leaned back...and made contact with the scrapbook.

Busted.

“Joey, what the hell?!” Mathew swiftly reached down, grabbed the scrapbook, he pried it open. “God, you got little gray furs on the pages and everything.” Under his mask, Joey could see grit teeth as he plucked a fur and tossed it on the floor.

Joey reached towards him. “Mathew, I can explain—”

“Giving you my scrapbook wasn’t an excuse for you to go showing it off!” he snapped, brushing Joey’s hand away and keeping him on his side of the couch. “Especially not to him. Is this what you talked about in that gondola?”

Joey clutched the brim of his hat. “Well what’s the big deal, anyway? Our humanity’s a worse-kept secret than buried treasure in Times Square! Everyone here already knows what he figured out!”

Mathew hissed, “But Meowth didn’t know that she knows.” He pointed with the claw of his thumb to the corner of the room, in the space between the TV and the glass wall. Demurke had huddled there, red-coated wings covering her beak. The brim of her hat masked over her eyes.

…Oh.

Rubbing salt into the wound, ORB, on the floor by Jermy’s body, punctuated the moment with a blunt, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Meowth shifted awkwardly. “If it’s any compensation—”

“You stay out of this.” Mathew’s near-yell was enough to startle the pikachu awake, punctuated by a yelp and a few kicks. Without skipping a beat, he was back on Joey, hugging the scrapbook to his chest. “This is exactly what I was warning you about! You know why he’s being so buddy-buddy with you now, Joey? Because you’re his free ticket into worming his way back into my life!”

Frustration boiled in Joey’s throat. “That ain’t true! I’m the one who got him to team up with me, and I got him to read! All Meowth wants is to patch things up with y’all. If you’re gonna get hoppin’ mad, at least get hoppin’ mad at the right folk!”

Right after the words fell from Joey’s maw, a cacophony of emotions rippled through Mathew. First, he looked towards Joey with an intense rage. That rage faded into a strained expression, then contemplation. There was a split-second where the life fled from his eyes, and when they returned, they showed...despair.

“Shut up.” Mathew rose from the couch. Tears streamed down over his mask as his glare fixated on Meowth. “I know what you want. What you all want.”

Meowth’s lips trembled, but nothing came from his mouth.

Joey, meanwhile, recoiled at the remark. “Hah? What are you saying?”

Mathew didn’t even acknowledge him. “We have work in half an hour, right?” He dropped the scrapbook onto the table. “Leave this in your room or whatever. I’m going to get ready.” And just like that, he climbed the stairs and left them there.

Joey and Meowth passed shameful looks. In the corner, Demurke sat there, completely curled into herself. The confused Jermy pulled off his goggles and bandana, opting to fiddle with them instead of address what he’d almost slept through.

The cracking dawn cast deep shadows into the condo. Sitting on that table, Joey swore the scrapbook’s was the deepest.

Chapter 10: Impending Judgment

Chapter 9: Impending Judgment

You’re not getting mad at the right people.

Even after recollecting himself, Joey’s sentiment rung through Mathew’s head like a hammered bell. It was not the first time somebody told him that — God knows that one of those times was what shot through his mind at that moment. But even on Solceus, it wasn’t something he took well to unpacking.

Who the hell even is the ‘right person’ here? Like he said, he knows Meowth’s the exact kind of person to use Joey for his own gain, and yet even when pressured, Joey is insistent that the responsibility is his. He may have choice words for the both of them, but the last thing he wanted to do was pin the responsibility on Joey. He’s an amnesiac, after all; Mathew understood he had good reasons to act out.

Mathew had been dropped onto a forked road with paths that only led to dead-ends. Blame Joey or blame nobody. The unacceptable or the unthinkable. How was he supposed to choose? Straining himself to find a conclusion he couldn’t grasp had been enough to deflate him before he was forced along to start his workday with the others. Perhaps that was for the best.

The walk from the condo to the Resort was underlined by mixed feelings. Jermy’s smile had returned to him, spurred by a wisecrack or two from ORB, while the teasing Demurke seemed to have put it all behind her already. Mathew attributed their recovered mood to the second episode of Every Star a Catcher he could hear them watch downstairs. But Joey didn’t say a word, and neither did he.

In their defense, it wasn’t like there was much to talk about. This wasn’t their first walk, and there was nothing out of the ordinary about it…at least, until that rickety elevator dropped into the dirt.

It started with a distant rumble. Then it grew, and it grew, and then the doors opened to wholly different Waregle than the one they saw before. The entire area around the pool was crowded by pokémon of all kinds — young and old, big and small, clothed and unclothed. The roar of chatter was smothered by the echo of the complex as it filled their ears. Those piles of junk that lined the walls had been cleared away to make room for them all.

“Holy shit…!” Mathew exclaimed. He turned to his recruiters. “What’s going on?”

Demurke giggled. “W-we might’ve prepared a bit of a…a surprise for you!”

Jermy’s ears flicked. “I didn’t know me we were gonna have this many people here!”

“Neither did w-we!”

That was when Mathew noticed David. He was standing on one of the platforms over the pool, carrying an open cardboard box whose contents Mathew couldn’t make out. Once he saw them at the elevator, he put the box down, then promptly took flight. “Mathew! Joey! Just who I was waiting for!” he called as he landed in front of the two.

“Uh, hi,” Joey said. “What kind of rodeo’s going on in the Waregle?”

“Oh, them?” David gestured to the crowd. Some of the pokémon stepped towards them, while others kept their distance. “They’re actually here for you! And a few other recruits, but mostly you!”

Mathew peered into the crowd, trying to make out faces. A lot of them were pokémon he wasn’t familiar with — and the ones he might have recognized kept shifting around too much. How was he supposed to commit them to memory if they kept darting behind the corners? “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah! A whole boat-load of people got invited for this!” Jermy said. “You see, we—”

“Actually, maybe you should hold on the explanation, Jermy.”

David’s assertion make the pikachu’s grin falter. “Well, if you want to explain it instead, then by golly, be my guest…”

“It’s not that.” David’s own jubilant demeanor faded as he addressed Mathew and Joey. “While Demurke was gone, somebody came over and delivered a message. The head of the army division wants a meeting with you.”

“In front of all these folks?” Joey asked.

David shook his head, then tilted it towards the portal room on their left. “In Fascamile Town Hall.”

Mathew looked towards the line of portals. He reread the message on one’s rim: ‘Fascamile Town Hall — NO ENTRY WITHOUT PERMISSION. ENDPOINT GUARDED 24/7.’ He’d noticed it before, when Demurke had been talking about her home. Was that where the leader of the army worked, too? No wonder it was protected.

“...Oh.” Demurke clicked her beak, looking towards the portal machine nervously.

Jermy just sighed. “Well, what’s another delay at this point?” Taking initiative, he leapt up and smacked the button on the side.

All this left a rough taste in Mathew’s mouth. First David delayed their arrival, and now he’s dragging them off to an unrelated meeting? This morning had already gotten bad enough. Still, there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He’d go to Fascamile, put on his best face and—

—nearly kissed the sharp end of a spear with his muzzle.

While Mathew was absentmindedly stepping through the opened portal, a yellow, cat with slitted eyes — an abra — had moved to point to the weapon at him, barring his entrance. Beside the abra was a goat with a green, leafy mane, poised to charge Mathew with his curved horns.

Mathew gasped and reflexively brandished his club. “Hey! Back off!”

“W-Waaaaait!” Demurke leapt in front of Mathew, lightly pushing him away from the abra. “He’s just…one of the recruits,” she told the guard. “They’re g-getting called in for a meeting.”

Both guards dropped their stances. Their aggressive expressions sunk into incredibly bored ones. They almost seemed upset that there was no threat. “He’s outside,” the abra told them before stepping aside.

Mathew heard several heaves of relief behind him. Even ORB supplied his own sigh — as in, he literally said “Sigh”. “Fascamile Town Hall is the second most-guarded facility the organization has,” he informed him. “I would recommend letting David lead. Even Jermy’s been smacked by the oblivious guard here and there.”

Fascamile Town Hall was a Ship of Theseus of a facility. As the group navigated the tight hallways, Mathew could pick out the difference between the historical wooden structures and the replacements made of drywall. What was strange was how haphazard the remodeling seemed — instead of completely renovating certain halls one at a time, most were a half-complete mix of both styles. It almost looked easier to guide people to specific halls over the dozens of lightly-labeled rooms they passed by.

The obtuseness of it all almost made the cubone shudder. If he didn’t keep track of the way he came, he could see himself losing track of it easily. Now he understood how Jermy could have convinced the workers here that he didn’t belong — the uncertainty would’ve given him away.

“How do y’all navigate this place…?” Joey asked the question on both of their behalfs.

“It g-gets easier with practice!” Demurke assured them. “Lose track of your room enough times, and, y’know—”

Mathew stopped in his tracks. “You live in here?”

Demurke flitted a wing. “Well, it is…a little weird, I know. B-but it’s nice! I have a r-really nice room, and so do…” She trailed off, so quiet Mathew couldn’t hear that last part.

Before Mathew could interject, David peered over his shoulder and gestured them forward. “You can talk about Demurke’s cool room later, you two. We have a crowd waiting for us!”

“Right…” Mathew wasn’t going to just write that off though. Who lives in a town hall?

As David led them towards an exit, Mathew noticed a familiar ambiance outside, only muffled by the half-finished walls. It was only when he walked through the wide open entryway that he realized this was the first time he’d seen a storm on Solceus.

The wind howled as the ceaseless shower was blown astray. Raindrops battered his skull mask, making plink after plink after plink. The thunder that crashed down far in the distance was nothing like the playful sparks of Jermy’s making — they rumbled lowly, and the flashes lit up the flat campus like stadium lights.

Wrapped in a chain link fence the height of two Davids, the yard of town hall had been battered from use. Tall grass, lines of bushes, and the occasional hackberry tree dotted the space, but so did dirt craters, felled trunks, and metal equipment left outside to rust. Mathew could guess the source of it all.

A squad of pokémon was doing laps around the premise with grit teeth and loud groans. Some were small, like the machop pumping his arms with all his might, but there were a few titans out there. A big-bladed kingambit, a gray dinosaur with a blue hard-head, and a snorlax clearly out of his element… There was even a poor Unovan bird in flight despite the weight of the downpour. He heard a voice yelling at them with the cadence of a drill sergeant, but it was hard to make any sense of what was said while the storm disoriented him.

Out of the edge of his vision, he saw David point a wing towards one of the toppled trees. That’s it! At least, that’s what Mathew thought he heard him say. It was even harder to make him out here than in the crowd at the Waregle.

“What’s it?”

“No!” David pointed harder, looking him in the eye as he yelled louder. “Dit!”

It was then that Mathew finally made him out. He was hard to notice at first glancee, as his unusual blue shade blended in with the hue of the rain, but the red feathers in his flowing crest gave him away. The blue pidgeot, Dit, stared down the runners with crimson eyes, one talon on the dirt and the other atop the fallen bark. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the front of the pack as they passed. The others went past him wordlessly…at least, until the kingambit, far in the back, came up to him.

The titan keeled, hands on his knees, as he bickered and complained. Mathew couldn’t make it all out — something about tiredness. He leaned over Dit, almost shielding him from the rain. The bird pointed his beak straight up. Mathew could hear every word from him.

“Youse say you outta juice, huh? Can’t run anymore?”

It took a lot of energy not to scoff. This was the army division leader? A frail, thickly accented bird whose subordinates towered over him? He should’ve figured the army had less to offer, since that was where SEAS’ bottom of the barrel supposedly—

FWSSSHH.

The shockwave of the wind slash was louder than even the roar of lightning. Dit had leapt from the trunk and swung once with a wing behind the kingambit. The shockwave tore through the dirt like a knife carving a gash until it clashed with the fence, making it rattle in agony. The front-runner, who’d almost lapped the kingambit, had to leap away or else get caught in the blast. The complainer yelped and took off in a newfound rush, even faster than before he stopped.

“Dat is what theys gonna do if ya stop moving!” Dit yelled after him.

Mathew could hardly believe what he’d just seen. That pidgeot’s single swish of the wing made every avian he’d seen until now look like a joke. With the Club’s help, Mathew thought he was starting to catch up, but suddenly the gap between his fighting skill and the rest of the world’s never felt wider. Maybe he had it backwards — the army division was always hiring because they were strong enough to handle anybody.

He looked to the alarmed Joey, clutching the strap of his hat to keep it from flying off. If they failed, would it handle them?

It took a moment for the pidgeot to notice David waving him down, and a moment more for him to peel away from the runners. He glided over to them as easily as if the weather were clear. The fierceness in his tone loosened as his sweeping gaze settled on the murkrow behind them. “Demoike! You brought da new guys!”

Demurke pulled her wings in toward her chest. “W-Well, it was…more David than me, Dad.”

Mathew resisted the urge to open his mouth, drink in the rain, and then do a spit-take. Dad?!

Dit nodded, then turned his attention to him and Joey. “Sorry for getting you boys soaked! Hadta make sure dis lot was getting dere exercise in before I turned ‘em loose.”

“What are y’all even doing out here?” Joey exclaimed. “I reckon that run would be easier than beating a bug if you waited for the storm to clear.”

“Wait for da storm to clear?” Dit chuckled, dismissing the thought. “Da toughness is da point! What ya see out dere are our weak links — delinquents or slackers so bad, da squads don’t want ‘em anymore. It’s my job to get dose fellas back on the straight ‘n narrow, both in mind and body.”

“It’s very effective.” ORB’s voice blared through his speakers. Instead of weathering the rain, he remained in the entryway some yards away, shielded by the roof of the massive half-built complex. “About eighty percent of all members inducted into Dit’s remedial program return to daily life with no further incidents after six months.”

Mathew found it hard to believe that they really changed, but he wasn’t going to challenge ORB or Dit on it. “What kind of delinquency gets you in here?”

Joey gave him a baffled, “That’s what you’re thinking about?” look. He glared back. What? Was he wrong for wanting to figure out the stakes at play?

“It’s a couple ‘a things! Picking fights, hoarding food ya don’t own, ignoring training, and proving youse a liability by…well.” Suddenly, his gaze hardened again. He marched past David, lightly brushing his wing-arm as he spun them back towards the building. “Let’s get somewhere dry,” he said firmly. “Dis is important.”

The sudden distance came down as hard as the rain did. What was Dit trying to imply about him? Based on Jermy, Demurke, and Dit’s uneasy looks, it seemed like they already knew — and it wasn’t good.

---

“What do y’all mean, we’re in trouble?!”

In any other situation, Mathew would be questioning the structure of Dit’s office space. The front side of his desk was as one would expect, but behind it, the floor dropped off. While everyone else sunk into beanbag chairs, Dit stood perched atop a metal bar, suspending him over the drop. It was a strange setup — but he was too focused on the matter at hand to care.

Dit glared down at them with a firm eye. “See, here ins Fascamile, we dig ourselves into some...funny business. The sort where, if word spreads around, it’ll be real ugly for everyone involved.” He leaned in, his talons scratching against the bar. “We don’t take well to blabberers.”

This was ridiculous. Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he ‘blabbered’ entirely against his will? Mathew wanted to protest, but he wasn’t stupid — he knew that calling him out would only hurt his chances of securing this job. The key to dealing with shitty bosses, from his experience, was to avoid making them mad. “What did you hear?” he asked flatly. Maybe he just wasn’t aware of the full context?

“Let’s just say we know a thing or two about what goes on around dat girl’s place.” Suddenly, Dit leaned back and fell behind his desk — or, at least it looked like it. A panicked peer around the side of the desk revealed Dit’s talons were clinging on to the bar as he hung upside-down, reaching towards the lowered floor with his beak. When he flipped himself upright, he was biting down on a sheet of paper, offering it to them.

“What the heck…?” Joey plucked the paper, stunned. Mathew could make out some monochrome shapes — him, Joey, Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, standing around in Minichino’s house. It was all from the perspective of her garden door. “How did you take this?”

“The same way we heard every word of youse bickering,” Dit answered simply. “Some rando’s been using youse as a pond to fish from. Youse gotten all worked up over it too. Not signs of a good helper, that’s for shoire.”

Mathew grimaced, shaking his head. The one time he thought he thought they were lacking in SEAS’ supervision… What had they paid Minichino to get her to hide security cameras? “You’re right, sorry. That was my mistake.” Mathew could feel his own voice wavering with frustration. He was lucky that his skull mask hid it. “This won’t be a problem, next time you check on our progress.”

“Funny you mention dat,” Dit said. “At dis rate, there won’t be a next time. We’re speeding up da recruitment — you got a week-ish tops.”

“What?!” Okay, screw that advice about not talking back. This was a blatant changing of the deal! His head snapped to David, Jermy, and Demurke as he leapt out of his chair. “Were you guys going to bother telling me, or was I just supposed to find out on my own?” he asked, annoyed.

The bashful Jermy gave him a hollow grin. “We were working on mapping out the new plan in the background…”

“As youse should!” Dit proclaimed. “I got some word on how it’s going over dere, and I’ll tell ya: I’ve seen better.”

“It’s been four days!” Mathew snapped back. “How the hell can you say that already?”

“Four days can say a whole lot more about how a ‘cruit will do than you think. The bois here are good at that kind of thing, thanks to da boss.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t the leader of this company either?! Am I ever going to meet the CEO of this goddamn organization?” Mathew’s tongue lashed out faster than he could think to stop it. “I am trying my best out here, but I can’t help that—”

“Mathews.” Dit lowered himself, craning his neck forward towards him. An image of his attack carving the dirt flashed in Mathew’s head and extinguished the fire in his eyes. “Da new plan’s got nothing against youse. If your recent history’s any proof, youse got what it takes in dis job. If ya wanna get mad, get mad at whoever’s meddling with your shot.”

Mathew stood under Dit’s gaze for only a few seconds before sinking back into the chair. Dit had stricken him where it hurt — he couldn’t refute that somebody had mettled with his pursuits.

The pidgeot’s beak contorted into a grin, seeming satisfied. He then asked the recruiters, “Youse got a plan to get these stragglers in ship-shape?”

The decidueye, looking jaded, nodded. “As Jermy said, we’re working on it.”

Dit plucked the photo from Joey’s hands and dropped it behind his head. “Then I believe we’s all done here. I’m expecting better things from youse.” Dit swept his wings, ushering them out of the room. As they did, he added, “Oh, and Demoike?”

“Y-yes…?” She came up to his desk, and he whispered to her something that Mathew couldn’t hear. “…Okay. I’ll…I’ll t-try.” When Demurke rejoined them, she kept brushing her wing across the rim of her hat, like if she didn’t check for it, it would fly off.

The moment the door shut, any remaining formality fell away, and a fog of despair clouded them all. Between its awkward interior and its raging exterior, Facsimile offered them no peace of mind.

“That went about as good as a gear in a gutter,” Joey muttered. Mathew mustered a nod in agreement.

“Well, there is a bright-side here.” David’s tone did not inspire confidence. “Now we know just how important this event we set up for you in the Waregle really is.”

Mathew tapped his bone club against the wall. Things had gone so smoothly before. Now he was being told there was a real chance he’d be on the front lines of a war he had no understanding of. All he wanted was a peaceful place to live and work — was that too much to ask?

Dit was right about one thing, though. This was all his fault. The moment he entangled himself in Mathew’s life, he’d been sent down a path towards the destruction of everything he’d come here for. Mathew refused to take that sitting down. He didn’t care what it took. He would get his job with Jermy and David, he would get his peace, and most importantly, he would make Meowth a non-issue.

He suddenly swung his weapon and stomped down the hallway, leading the group in the direction he thought the portal back to the Waregle was stored.

“Mathew…?” Joey lifted his arms, worry in his tone.

“We have a job to do, don’t we? Let’s go.”

Chapter 11: All Fun and Games

Chapter 10: All Fun and Games

The Waregle’s trap room was definitely not designed to fit this many people in it. Mathew could feel the overcrowding the moment David opened the door for him, Joey, Jermy, ORB, and Demurke. Not only was there the six of them to filter in, but there were already four strangers taking up the space.

“Beverly, I sense visitors,” a woman with a forced gravelly voice spoke. Her green hair stuck out against the white dress of her body. It bore a striking resemblance to a pokémon Mathew knew called gardevoir…maybe it was its pre-evolution?

“Really? Well I’ll be!” Up came a species that, in contrast, Mathew needed no introduction for. The beaver-like bidoof sped towards him and Joey at breakneck pace. With buck teeth that thick, Mathew worried that she’d make a dent in the floor if she tripped. “It’s a croc! And a…reptile guy!” she looked to David expectantly.

David stepped aside and held out a wing. “These are Mathew and Joey! Please, give them a warm welcome.”

“You’re Mathew?!” A rabbit with fur resembling a red and black sweater darted towards the totodile. “Oh my gosh, I’m a super huge f—”

“Uh.” Joey pointed a finger towards the cubone.

“Oh.” He leapt towards Mathew, grabbing his hand and shaking it with enough ferocity to strain his arm. “Call me Randy! I’m a super huge fan! At least, I think I am!”

Panic spiked through Mathew, remembering the last time he’d learned that somebody was a fan. “Uh, thanks,” he said mildly, trying not to let anything show. “What do you mean, ‘think’, though?”

“I can explain.”

Mathew was surprised by the source of the bubbling voice. In the corner of the room was a small mech of sorts filled with water. Rubbery, humanoid hands and feet gave it mobility, wobbling with the slosh of the fluid contained within. Behind the glass of the mech’s core was a lone red fish — a magikarp. As the machine hobbled closer, he noticed a blue type stone embedded into the container. That must’ve been how the fish controlled the arms and legs.

“We were discussing this when we heard you were participating,” she told him. The mech stood still as she spoke, devoid of body language. “We don’t remember everything about you, but Randy and I know your videos well enough.”

Mathew had never felt more lucky. They definitely had no idea what had happened, if that was all they knew. “Awesome!” he exclaimed. “It’s crazy how many people I’ve run into that recognize me. I haven’t felt this famous in years…”

“You know about Mathew?” Joey turned to David. “Just who the heck are these guys?”

David’s answer was simple. “Former humans, just like you. Today, they’re your competition.”

Now it all made sense. The way David was going to make him and Joey look palatable was to put them in direct comparison with these other recruits. The crowd was here to watch them compete!

“So that means you guys are recruits in other locations?” Mathew asked. He was confirming more for Joey’s sake than himself.

“Yeah!” the bidoof, Beverly, said, shimmying next to the gardevoir look-alike. “My bud Kell and I have been toilin’ away over in Kötfabrik, while Randy and Megan’ve been livin’ in…where did ya say it was again?”

“Cosaline,” the rabbit, Randy, said.

Mathew scoffed to himself. Where the hell were you two when we made that cover story?

Joey took a sweeping look at the four fellow recruits. “So y’all don’t remember anything, just like us, but…you know about Mathew?”

“Not all of us,” Kell, the gardevoir-like — kirlia? — said. “You’re an enigma to Beverly and me. But clearly, he means something to those two.”

Joey went silent for a moment. His maw clenched tightly. “...Gotcha.”

Ugh. As if Mathew needed another reason to feel remorseful over what he’s kept from Joey, now these two random strangers were here to rub it in. Was there really no way for him to give Joey his answers without peeling the bandage?

He puffed and put that aside for now. What mattered was this competition here and now. He had to beat these four recruits in whatever challenge David was putting in front of them. Beverly, Kell, Randy, and… Huh. Why was that magikarp, Megan, looking at Joey so intensely?

“Alright, sounds like we’re about ready!” David exclaimed. “You’ll hear about how all this is going to work once I’m out there. I’ll be serving as your announcer!”

Jermy scoffed as he hopped into one of the chairs in front of the monitors. “Of course you’re playing announcer…”

“You guys ain’t a part of this?” Joey asked Jermy and Demurke.

“Well, it’s not that we aren’t a part of it!” Jermy sounded a little defensive. “It’s just that, you know, during the event—”

“Jermy and Demurke’s job was only to help David prepare the Waregle and attract a crowd,” ORB explained on his behalf. “While you’re out there, they’ll make sure nobody sneaks into this room and messes with the traps.”

Demurke took the other chair. “H-Hey, don’t worry! You won’t…really n-need our support out there. There’s p-plenty of people here to—!” The moment she turned towards the monitors, she gasped. Before Mathew could react, she pressed a button, and one of the monitors cut to a different angle of the Waregle. Through the monitor, Mathew could see an uncountable number of pokémon walking and talking around the pool, their noise piercing through the thin walls of the trap room. “Th-there’s a whole crowd,” she explained mildly.

“Man, I’m getting all fired up now!” Randy exclaimed. “Can’t we just get this started already?!”

“Hey, you said it!” David pushed open the door and was out in a flash. Less than a minute later, he was standing atop one of the highest platforms, clutching a wireless microphone in his hand.

“Good morning, Waregle!” David’s voice boomed through the whole complex, powered by speakers Mathew couldn’t see. His greeting was enough to get the crowd cheering for him from below. Half of the recruits watched the commotion through the cameras, while the other half peered past the open door. “Welcome to the Building Bonanza Game, hosted by Emmons Labs! I, David Emmons, will be your announcer for the duration of this event.”

“Really? That’s the name he’s going with?” Megan remarked.

David stood where no criticism could reach him. “In the game to come, each of our three pairs of employees-to-be will be challenged to demonstrate all of the skills that make us so great!” He leapt down to a different platform where a cardboard box had been planted. “Each box like this holds one of several essential tools. This one has chalk!” He jumped to another one. “This one has type stones!” Then another, and another. “Basic materials! Mundane objects! Building tools! Rudimentary construction equipment! All to be used for creating the most efficient, effective, and creative weapon they can think of!”

Mathew grinned excitedly. This game was right up his alley. He could build a weapon just as interesting as the others he’d seen, no problem!

“The time limit is one hour, and the event will be contained to the obstacle courses above the pool. Recruits are free to grab, hoard, and trade boxes however they like, but if any fall in, the recruit responsible will be removed from the game. Directly harming other recruits is banned until thirty minutes remain, after which they’re free to use their own weapon and try breaking the others. Who wins? It comes down to who you all think made the best one!”

The audience roared in excitement.

Joey nudged Mathew’s shoulder. “I’m not sure about this…”

“Are you kidding?” The eager Mathew patted him on the back, trying to reassure him. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t be so sure, hun,” Beverly remarked. “I might not look like it, but I’m a bit of an engineer myself. With me as brains and Kell as brawn, we’re unstoppable!”

“When did I become the brawns here?” Kell questioned.

“It doesn’t matter which one of you is brains and which of you is brawn,” Mathew said. “We’ll still beave your asses at this.”

Beverly groaned. “Ugh, that reeks! Surely ya got something better than that!”

Mathew just gave a mad chuckle. A bad pun should be the least of her worries.

“And now, without further adieu, please give a warm welcome to our three recruit teams!”

At David’s exclamation, the six of them burst through the trap room door and took a lap around the Waregle pool. Most of the crowd eagerly parted the way for them like the Red Sea, and those who didn’t were swatted away by Megan’s mech. Randy left an arm out for high-fives.

As they moved, Mathew couldn’t help himself. His run turned into a little jig, and he began to scat a little jingle — the one that got himself on the map years ago. The crowd ate it right up.

It took them all a moment to find the starting places David intended. Mathew and Joey really had to climb to reach theirs, and the Kötfabrik recruits got so lost that David had to carry them there in his talons. The recruits ended up situated high up at three of the four corners of the pool, with the boxes dotting low-hanging platforms towards the center.

From here, Mathew could finally see just what those boxes were hiding. The two of them got a great corner — the boxes holding type stones, chalk, and household objects were closest to them. It’d be easy to throw together a weapon just from those…but Mathew could do better. He needed to do better.

Unfortunately, the boxes holding the materials and tools he’d need to build something from scratch were near the other engineers, Beverly and Kell, instead. If he wanted to go above and beyond, he’d have to fight.

Mathew glanced at his teammate. “Are you ready, Joey?”

The crocodile fidgeted with his cowboy hat. “I’m about as ready as a wrecked car.”

Not very ready then. “Hey, don’t worry,” he encouraged again. “We can do this.”

Suddenly, Joey’s head snapped away from him. “That’s not what I’m bothered by.”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” David called. They were out of time to talk. “Start moving on go. Three… Two… One… Go!”

Mathew leapt through the obstacle course faster than he could think. His days of Waregle training had prepared him to shimmy along narrow paths, weave around spinning bars, and leap between course routes with little hesitation. It wasn’t without flaw — his foot nearly slipped out from under him as he stepped through a puddle — but compared to when he first arrived, he was flying. Joey was just behind, keeping in-step with his own mastery.

The cubone nearly toppled over the type stone box while trying to skid to a stop. As fast as he could, he dug a deep purple gem out and made a break for the next box. In a minute’s time, he’d handed Joey both the stone and the chalk they’d need. Perfect. Now, all he had to do was get to…

…Where did the tools box go? The platform it stood on was now devoid of cardboard. In fact, all of the boxes were gone, even the type stone box they’d passed earlier. Did somebody—?

He gasped at the sound of cardboard sliding in front of him. The chalk box…it was moving on its own! Water droplets were pushed away as it was dragged into the air, then through the air, soaring over obstacles…all the way towards Kell’s hand.

“That’s the last one.” She put down the chalk box on the wide, square platform she and Beverly stood upon. There was a pink glow coming from her hands as she did so. That must’ve been it — Kell moved the boxes to herself with psychokinesis!

Beverly chuckled, sending a raspberry in Mathew’s direction. “Ya might be a brainiac, but ya can’t make a weapon out of thin air!”

Mathew clutched his club tightly. One minute in and he was already being inconvenienced in the worst way possible. He tried to bite his irritation down — he had to keep looking good for the crowd. “Oh yeah? We’ll see who’s laughing when I whip up an invisible sword!”

“Ain’t that a psychic ability? I thought those weren’t allowed!” Joey cried.

“It’s fighting recruits that’s banned!” The decideueye rose up next to Mathew and Joey as he continued narrating for the crowd. “Looks like Beverly and Kell have made themselves a head-start! As long as they don’t bash anyone with them, they can move those boxes all they want!”

One of the recruits really didn’t take it that well — but it wasn’t them. Mathew watched as the fiery rabbit crashed onto Beverly and Kell’s platform, leaving scorch marks at the point of impact. The platform swayed from his landing, the steel chains holding it up jangling loudly. Kell responded by raising all six boxes airborne, far higher than he could jump. She pursed her lips, seeming strained by the act.

“Rrrgh, come on, give them back!” Randy spat. “This isn’t fair at all!”

“No.” Kell couldn’t have delivered it more bluntly.

Randy ranted and raved, seeming primed for attack, but after some time, he somehow had the restraint to storm off.

“On Randy’s behalf, I’m proposing a temporary truce between us.”

Mathew yelped as he whipped around. Standing on a platform above and behind them was Megan, mech standing tall. “How the hell’d you get here so fast?” he asked.

“I knew that this would happen when David explained the rules,” she explained as she quietly wiggled about inside the mech. “Getting us to ally against that kirlia was probably intended from the start.”

“But what could the four of us even do?” Joey asked. “Even if we all got in their faces at once, Kell can mind-bend that stuff faster than a rabbit on a rampage!”

Randy yelled, trying to run laps around the engineer and the psychic.

“We’d have to separate Kell from the boxes.” Mathew began pacing around, idly knocking his club against his mask as he tried to probe his brain for answers. “But fighting is banned. Is there another way?”

He recounted each of the rules, hunting for a loophole.

“As long as they don’t bash anyone with them, they can move those boxes all they want!”

“Recruits are free to grab, hoard, and trade boxes however they like…”

“but if any fall in, the recruit responsible will be removed from the game.”

Removed from the game… With the active involvement of her psychokinesis, the fate of the boxes is squarely in Kell’s hands. If she dropped the boxes into the pool below, she’d be eliminated…but David never mentioned a penalty if a recruit fell into the pool. If Kell was forced to choose between herself falling and the boxes falling, she would be forced to choose herself, right?

Mathew looked again to Beverly and Kell’s platform of choice. He witnessed it shift around a little at each of the bidoof’s steps, and that’s when the answer struck him. Those two had chosen the wrong place to set up camp.

He turned to Joey and Megan, feeling confident. “I have an idea.”

---

“Man, all this water’s makin’ it hard to sketch…” The bidoof set the chalk aside and tried pushing the droplets off of the platform. It just served to make her claws wet.

“Here.” Kell pushed one of the boxes past Beverly, using it as a makeshift mop.

Mathew’s eyes flicked between the two of them and his allies, quietly hopping, crawling, and bubbling their way into position. By now, Megan had passed the plan onto Randy, meaning they could put this into motion.

“Hey, mic’s off right now.” David landed next to Mathew, speaking to him in a whisper. “What’s the scheme here?”

Mathew figured a question of his own would be enough. “What’s the cost for breaking things in the Waregle?”

This seemed only to confuse him. “None, I think? We have a cleaning staff.”

“Perfect.” Mathew stood up tall and took a deep breath. “Hey Beverly! Kell!” The moment they looked at him, he made his move. He wound up, rearing back far more than necessary, flashed a grin at the audience below…and then chucked his bone club with all of his might. It hurtled through the air until it smacked — not at the recruits, but one of the chains holding up the platform.

Beverly cried out as the platform wobbled and shook. “Whaddaya think you’re doing?!”

Mathew caught the club as it boomeranged back towards him. “Who doesn’t like a little — ngh — rulebreaking?” He grunted as he tossed it again, adding a bit of showboating into each motion. Mathew wanted all eyes on him, including theirs.

Mathew carefully watched the two panic between throws. He noticed Beverly scramble to toss their scraps onto a platform right next to them. “Catch it, catch it, catch it!” she ordered her friend.

On the fourth throw, the club was held in place just short of the chain. It trembled in midair, stuck between its bond to Mathew and Kell’s psychic power. From here, the cubone could see some confidence break out onto her face. There was a remarkable dent in one of the links now, but Mathew was short a weapon to break it w—

Chomp.

That was the sound Joey made as he crashed into the chain, right at its weak point, and bit down hard. He wrangled with it, clutching the chain to keep from falling.

Mathew gasped. How did he get up there? He had told Joey to go straight for the base of the chain, so they could strike in two places instead of one.

He could hear Joey chewing through the link with his powerful jaws. It was working. “What do we do?!” Beverly cried.

Kell released her hold on the club, then turned to raise all of the boxes into the air. “We have to move these,” she said hurriedly. She moved them all to a smaller platform nearby, barely large enough to fit them all. “They’re trying to—!”

Beverly and Kell screamed as the chain gave out. The platform buckled and turned, forcing them to slide off. A second later, two splashes echoed through the Waregle.

Joey panted and kicked, holding on to the broken chain for dear life. “Um, guys? I…” Before he could finish that sentence, Megan’s mech reached out from a next-door platform and set him down. “Thanks.” He spat towards the pool. “Metal tastes grosser than gunk in a garbage can…”

“Incredible!” David hovered above them, peering down at the disgruntled recruits surfacing from their dive. “The other teams forced Kell and Beverly to give up the boxes to keep from getting eliminated, all without laying a finger on either of them. Who else could think of a plan like that than Mr. Walker himself?! And it only took little kick from Randy to put it into motion!”

A little kick? As Mathew gave a dramatic bow to placate the cheering pokémon, he pieced together what happened. The extra help was an improvised trick from that rabbit, wasn’t it? It must’ve been a serious kick to get Joey so high up. Where did he get that kind of power from…?

Oh! He was the pre-evolution of that soccer rabbit, cinderace! A raboot, it was called. That made sense.

Once he finished showing off, he rushed off to join the others. By the time he got there, Randy and Megan were already clawing through three of the boxes, hunting down chalk, a type stone, and a household item. “Take what you want and go,” Megan demanded.

“Right.” Rather than deliberate, Mathew simply picked one up, then pressed Joey to grab another. With caution, they parted ways with the other group.

They headed for the edge of the pool. Learning from Beverly and Kell, the two settled on a space not held up by chains: a spacious, surprisingly stable diving board suspended over the pool by poles sprouting from the ground.

Mathew sat down with their spoils. The two of them had grabbed the ones holding the most important resources: the raw materials and the tools. Along with the chalk and type stone, they had all they needed to make a weapon from scratch.

“Let’s see here…” Mathew peered into the tools box. He was impressed by the actual variety of tools here. Screwdrivers, hammers, what looked like a blowtorch…

A nail gun…

He held it up to the ceiling light. Crimson glinted off the bent ends of each nail. “Is this it?” he asked.

Mathew couldn’t bear to look at it. Not after what it’d been used for. “Yes, sir.”

“Mathew?! Hey!” Joey exclaimed.

He was pulled back to reality just short of scuttling backwards off the diving board. “Sorry. Can you check this out instead?”

Joey seemed perturbed, but slowly complied, rummaging through the box. “There’s some pencils and paper here for sketching, a hammer, and… uh…” he pulled out a small tube and a matching piece of spring. “What the heck is this?”

Mathew squinted at the two…and then it clicked. “Oh! It’s a tiny barrel. That’s part of what you’d need to build a makeshift gun.”

Joey leaned back at that, looking leerily at the piece in his hand. “A gun? For pokémon?”

Mathew was just short of writing it off himself. But when he looked at the purple type stone resting next to him…an idea started to form. He sat down. “Joey, hand me the pen and paper.”

---

By the time David announced that fifty minutes remained, Mathew had completed his sketch. It took a little guesswork to figure out that the purple type stone they had was actually the poison type, but once it did, everything clicked into place. What he had drawn was a tiny pistol, fit for pokémon their size. Much like how David’s bugle horn shot out magical leaves when blown into, the gun would fire clouds of poison only when the trigger was pulled. All it’d take was a couple minutes of welding and they’d be set.

“So? What do you think?” Mathew asked as he presented the weapon to Joey, sitting next to him.

Joey was…unusually despondent. He said nothing as he stared at the drawing with a frown on his maw.

“…Joey?”

“Oh, um, right,” Joey stammered, still seeming discontent. “It’s…I dunno. I don’t like it.”

Mathew’s confidence wavered. That moodiness was back again. “Okay, but is there anything actually wrong with it?”

“It ain’t the weapon! It’s…” He averted his gaze, seeming almost embarrassed to say it. “I don’t like the thought of seeing you with a gun. Is there really nothing better?”

Of all things to be bothered by… “Joey, please,” Mathew said, exasperated. “We don’t have the time to come up with another one! It’s not like it fires real bullets.”

“That ain’t the point!” Joey grumbled. “David showed us we could make any weapon we wanted, and I thought that was bad enough. So why is the first thing you jump to…?”

Mathew peered over the side of the board. Several of the pokémon were looking up at them, eager to see the product of their creative minds. Could they hear them? Panicked, he leaned up close to the totodile, craning his muzzle up towards where his ears should be. “You don’t have to work on it,” he shrilly whispered, “but we are not doing this right now.”

Joey just huffed, springing to his feet. “No, it’s fine,” he mumbled, jumping into the box once more. “I’ll be your tool guy. What are you gonna need?”

Mathew sighed before trying to dismiss the whole thing. They wouldn’t be able to succeed if things got heated. The last thing either of them needed was to blow up on each other in front of a crowd, or in front of…

He squinted. All the way on the other end of the pool, that mech-suited magikarp was still staring at him.

---

Fifteen minutes passed by like a leaf drifting through Fascamile’s fierce storm. Now that every team had what they needed, they were all fiercely focused on crafting their weapons. Mathew had his attention split three ways — he needed to study both his own craft and that of the other teams.

Mathew realized the moment he grabbed the blowtorch that he’d chosen the most ambitious project of the three. Randy and Megan were already done, having settled on a simple mix of tool and type stone. Meanwhile, Beverly and Kell had settled on using woodwork to assemble their weapon. The bidoof’s buck teeth made wood its canvas like a potter’s clay. Woodchips spilled into the air as she shaped it, falling into the pool they’d escape from minutes before.

Lucky. Why couldn’t he have known any fire moves?

Mathew turned the blowtorch off and leaned back, overwhelmed by its heat. The fire was far stronger than any blowtorch he could buy on Earth, no doubt thanks to a type stone, but his unfamiliarity with the tool combined with the humidity of the Waregle made it an unwieldy process in exchange for the speed. He’d gotten it done, but it wasn’t pretty. Metal bubbled at the seams between pieces, and it was a little bent out-of-shape. David seemed plenty satisfied though — the decidueye had been singing his praises to the crowd the whole time he made it.

With a sigh, he dropped the gun into one of the boxes. The two of them had emptied it out and filled it with a mix of pool water and Joey’s Water Gun, in hopes the extra potency would beat the elemental heat. Unfortunately, that meant only Joey could reach in without feeling pain. “Alright, that’s about it,” he told him. “Let it cool a minute and we’re done here.”

“Got it.” Joey’s tone was a little blunt. He was still grumpy, but not unhelpful, and Mathew was thankful for that.

He got to his feet, taking a stretch and checking the others’ progress. Beverly and Kell were right on their heels, seeming about done themselves. Wood, rope, and wire wrapped around Beverly and a spear holstered at her side with a makeshift sheath. Three blocks of wood extended from the side, serving some purpose Mathew couldn’t grasp. The sharp end dripped with water no matter how much the bidoof shook.

Meanwhile, Randy and Megan…uh…huh. While Mathew wasn’t looking, the two of them had disappeared from their crafting space. Where had they disappeared to?

“And that’s thirty minutes! Recruits, you can now directly attack—”

Oh shit.

Before the words had even finished coming out of David’s mouth, a raboot had jumped from a platform hung above, dropping on them feet-first.

Mathew cried out to Joey. They had to take the gun and move! But his words fell on deaf ears. Joey was sitting there, staring at the cooled gun in his hands while the world passed him by. What was he doing?!

Too late. Randy slammed down on the massive board with enough force to pull it down with him. He yelped as the board flung them all upwards. Mathew winced as he fell down rear-first, almost crushing his tail. Joey landed on his chest, the gun clattering as it bounded away from his arm.

Following Randy down from above was his weapon of choice. As he planted himself on the wobbling board, the raboot caught a bright blue basketball. When he dribbled it, the water that was puddled on the board crystalized. The ice spread a little from the point of impact, a few inches short of the water-filled box.

He aimed a pass at the exposed gun.

Mathew lunged to block it. The weapon was too small and too shabby to take abuse like that. He bit on his tongue trying to resist the urge to scream. The moment it collided with his right arm, all of the droplets running along it turned cold, their sharp ends digging at his scales and leaving stinging cuts. Randy caught the rebound, already primed for another pass.

Short on options, Mathew rose and reached for the best counter he had. With his left hand, he clutched the side of the box, swung it over his side, and dumped the mixed water on the fire-type. Randy winced, blocking his face with his free paw, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. The icy ball struck his left arm — then his left leg, then his right. Suddenly he was trapped in place, arms so scratched up that he worried calling his club would cause him even more pain.

Mathew peered behind himself. Joey was now watching them with wide eyes, hugging the gun to his chest. “Run!” he commanded, using his muzzle to gesture to a large pole holding up the board at the edge of the pool.

Joey looked to it and understood quickly. “I’ll move snappier than a rattlesnake snacking on a m…!” His comparison was drowned out by the sound of him sliding down the pole like a firefighter.

Phew. That should buy him some time to thaw out, or muster the strength to grab his club so he can start bashing at the ice like an antarctic warrior. He was exhausted, but he was still kicking. So long as he fought smarter instead of harder…

…Why wasn’t Randy chasing after Joey? He was just standing there, giving Mathew a cocky but genuine grin. Busting the gun should be his goal, shouldn’t it?

“Hey, you like you magic tricks, right?” Randy asked as he walked around the squirming Mathew, arm wrapped around his ball. “Lemme show you a cool trick of my own!”

Smack!

A fire-charged kick slammed into the cubone with supernatural strength. A mixture of pain and amazement panged through his pounding head as he was launched upward. Ice flew off of him as he went higher, and higher, and—

He stopped. Just short of crashing into the ceiling, two large hands had reached out and grabbed him.

That damn magikarp. Here she was, mech and all, standing at the top of an intricate box-maze of nets and stairs ripped straight out of a fast-food joint’s play-place. A waterslide rushed behind her, boring into the wall.

Mathew gave a weak laugh. “N-Nice catch…”

“Randy and I practice this kind of thing.” The mech stepped away from the edge, harshly dropping Mathew against a guard-rail next to the slide.

He winced. “If it’s the gun you’re looking for, you got the wrong guy… Joey has it.”

“You think we’re after your weapon?” The fish shimmied around in her mech, her scoff forming as bubbles rising from her mouth. “Why waste time breaking your weapon when I can negotiate your surrender?”

The cubone thought to peer to his side. David was too focused on Randy’s chase after Joey to come up here. Nobody would be able to hear them from up here. “I really have no idea why you’ve been eyeing me all day, but no way in hell am I giving this up.”

Megan ignored him. “I don’t know you because of your persona or whatever you did on Earth. That’s where Randy recognizes you from, but I was just playing along.” She squinted, giving the most judgmental look a magikarp can muster. “Your friend’s been bothered by our familiarity with you, and while you were building that weapon, you didn’t answer his question… He doesn’t know about the rumors, does he?”

The rumors?

The rumors. Oh god.

With a new burst of motivation, Mathew grabbed the rail and hoisted himself up. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. He was genuine — he had found articles and blogs trying to piece together what he’d been doing since vanishing from the web. Those writers couldn’t fathom the full reality.

“With a reaction like that, at least I know there’s some truth to it.”

Damn it. Was his frustration that obvious?

Megan intensified, pointing a finger towards the slide. “Take this slide back down, break your weapon, and throw the rest of the game. Otherwise…I’ll tell him everything I know.”

He could feel his own eye twitch. The need to tell Joey the whole truth brought him enough anguish. The thought of a random stranger repeating the words of tabloids and rumor mills she couldn’t even remember reading to Joey brought him disgust.

How dare she. How dare she.

He lurched forward, catching Megan by surprise, as he drove a claw against the glass protecting her face. “You do that, and I’ll drag you to the driest desert I can find and make you sunbathe.”

“You don’t scare me,” Megan said. “You could just tell Joey the truth yourself and take away my leverage. But the fact that you won’t says a lot about what you really think.” Her gaze could bore holes through him. “You’re pitiful. And you’d rather stay pitiful for the rest of your life.”

For the rest of his life?

No. As if he hadn’t tried to claw his way out before.

He’d tried.

He’d been trying.

“I am trying!” he cried. “Mark, I am trying with everything I have to make things better for the both of us!”

“Then why do you keep yelling?”

This was the second time today he’d been brought to that moment. Joey did it as well, when they were arguing.

The day he lost him, too.

Mathew didn’t even remember calling his club to him. It simply rose into his hand from wherever it was down below, in time for him to swing. He bashed against the glass guarding the magikarp again and again, forcing her back as he approached.

She had no right to bring him back to that moment.

Megan gave a bubbling grunt as she tried fruitlessly to block the club. “That’s not going to work!” she called. Despite this, she took a step back with each blow. “This mech was designed to withstand pokémon moves. You can’t—!”

She was cut off by Mathew hugging her mech, pushing it like a football player. His feet nearly slipped on the wet floor, but he kept his grip. He would not stop.

He kept going until she toppled back, and the two fell over the unguarded edge.

The audience’s cheers turned to surprised gasps as they tumbled. Mathew clung to the mech, staying on top as they hurdled through the center of a hoop.

CRACK.

The force of landing onto the low-hanging platform combined with Mathew using it to break his fall was enough. With one more swing, the glass caved and shattered.

“Wait! Stop! Stop!” Megan tried to retreat into it, bite him, and slap him off, but there was no stopping him. He pulled her out of the mech with both hands, holding her up as if he pulled a fish from an Earthen river.

Megan’s eyes were wide, pupils dotted. She was gasping for air.

Now he scared her.

Mathew threw Megan away, hurtling her into the pool below. Without a mech, that would be where she stayed.

“Megan!” the raboot cried. Without a second thought, he abandoned his chase and dived in after her. The trash took itself out.

Joey climbed towards him, asking him something. He couldn’t hear it over the ring of his ears.

He puffed air as if he were a dragon with smoke billowing out of its nostrils. “Who’s next?” he graveled, putting a foot atop the empty machine. He looked left, right…there she was.

Beverly marched up to them, geared up in her weapon, looking confident. “Boy, that fish girl must’ve really ticked ya off, hun.”

Mathew jumped from his platform to hers, reaching with his club. She tilted her body, blocking his club with her watery blade and then driving it forward. The cut it left in his arm stung as strongly as the ice, but he numbed himself to it quickly. He could still fight.

He swung again, and again. Every time he was answered with another slash or a bite from the bidoof’s buck-teeth.

“Mathew?! Mathew!” Joey’s voice cut through the muffle of the reinvigorated crowd. He begged Mathew to stop.

He couldn’t. He had a life to win for them.

Even the totodile’s intervention couldn’t stop either of them. When he leapt in, Beverly turned and swung at him. Suddenly, the blade sparked, and Joey was blasted backwards by an electric surge.

“Nice catch, Kell!” Beverly’s weapon shifted, wires floating around into new positions, and the weapon gained its watery aura again. Some kind of imbued type controller, powered by psychokinesis… “Ya might be a smart cookie, Mathew, but you know what we have?” She went straight for the chest. “Each other’s trust!”

He gasped. His legs buckled at the jab, and he was pushed backwards…right off the edge.

The world slowed. Thoughts rushed through his mind with blinding speed.

He’d failed. Even if Joey protected the gun from the other three, he’d still have failed. He lost sight of pleasing SEAS and caved to his unbridled emotion. The results resembled nothing of a man of science. Those strong first impressions would vanish beneath the shadow of his rage.

The people crowding the sides of the pool were still roaring with excitement. They didn’t know the difference. They sat through half an hour of anticipation to see three minutes of fighting. It must’ve made for a good show.

But there was something else. Two figures stood still right at the pool’s edge, watching him as he fell. Mathew was upside-down, and worse, too exhausted to really open his eyes — he couldn’t make out who they were, or what species they belonged to. But he did remember their perturbed eyes.

They must’ve known he lost, too.

Splash.

Chapter 12: Emily Prest

Chapter 11: Emily Prest

God, everything hurt.

That was the first thought that shot through Mathew’s head when he snapped awake. The adrenaline had run out, and now all of the scratches he’d taken between the basketball and the spear were in full force. It was a wonder that nothing had drawn blood.

He was splayed out on a cheap and rubbery bed that reminded him of an Earthen hospital. To his left were blue shelves lined with berries and seeds of all kinds, along with an assortment of unfamiliar tools. The ceiling hung high, but the walls were closing in on him, just short of swallowing him up.

The two figures standing around him didn’t help with the claustrophobia. On his left was a strange pokémon that Mathew could only compare to a misshapen pineapple. He was holding a jar of seeds with small green stems sticking out of them.

Reviver seeds.

“Mr. Walker.”

Towering before his feet was a species Mathew recognized. He was already familiar with the empoleon’s wide build, white lace-coated chest, and hulking flippers, but seeing these features in person, filling the whole room, showed him just how befitting the title ‘emperor penguin’ was. Sharp blue eyes peeked between the gaps of the horns extending from her beak, forming a trident shape.

“Here you go!” The duck medic had swapped to a jar of oran berries while he’d been staring at the empoleon. “All those hits you took didn’t break any bones, so this is all you need.”

“...Thanks.” Mathew said nothing as he took one and bit down. All his attention was focused on the empoleon. No words were needed — something about her presence just commanded it.

She finally spoke again. “It’s good to see you’re back with us. I was made aware how concerned your friends were for your health, especially the young Mr. Johdaile.”

This person talked to Joey? “How long’ve I been out…?”

“About forty-five minutes.”

He missed the rest of the game, then. Figures.

The empoleon looked to the medic. “Is there any other health concern left to address?” she asked.

“He should be all good now!” he answered. “He might need to take it easy for a bit, though — the food healed his wounds, but the only thing that makes those stress levels go down is time.”

“I see. In that case, I will take it from here. Thank you.” She nodded, as if to affirm that he was dismissed. Jovially, the other pokémon made for the door. Now it was just the two of them.

Mathew pushed himself up into a sitting position, feeling a bit better now that the oran had kicked in. “I’m sorry, should I know you?” Actually, on second thought… “Do I know you? I think I’ve heard your voice somewhere before.”

He seemed certain of it now. Firm, concise, and clear, as if at any moment she could spring into a powerful monologue… He had heard somebody speak with that intonation. Many times, even.

The empoleon seemed amused by the remark. “We’ve never met, no. But I would be surprised if you lost your ability to recognize me. After all—”

Just then, the door to the clinic burst open. “M-Mrs. Prest! How is…oh.”

There stood Demurke, holding the door aside with her wing. She seemed a little flustered having interrupted their conversation, so she promptly closed it again. But, wait…

Prest. She called her Prest.

His half-booted brain connected the dots.

“Prest?” Mathew repeated, looking up at the empoleon. “Like, Emily Prest?”

She nodded. “Yes. That Emily Prest. I lead this organization.”

The cubone collapsed onto his back again. He’d been willing to make some concessions in pursuit of this new life. Multiverse theory. Pokémon being real. Magic bones. Weapons made of household objects and random stones.

But ask him to make a thousand bingo cards of life-changing revelations, and he would never think to put this on one.

Emily Prest was formerly the fifty-first President of the United States.

And she was standing in front of him.

Telling him that the organization that flung him a dimension over was of her making.

What the fuck.

Emily moved to the side of the bed, peering over him. “Are you alright, Mr. Walker?”

“I feel like I’m in a dream right now,” he said, “but besides that? Never better.”

Emily raised a flipper, seeming contemplative. “Perhaps I should’ve prepared my greeting more thoroughly…”

Mathew propped himself back up. “It’s just — you disappeared! Is this where you’ve been this whole time? Why did you—”

“All in due time,” Emily cut him off, lowering it down. “The journey that led me here is a long and complex story. Once you are fully initiated and I can trust you, I can share the full explanation.”

He deflated. Mathew wasn’t going to pressure her — Emily Prest was not somebody you pushed around — but not knowing what became of her for the past thirteen years was going to nag at him. She couldn’t even tell him why she was here? “That’s basically what David said, too. I’m doing all this work, and I only kind of know what it means.”

Emily must have sensed the disappointment in his voice. She paced around, staring at the ceiling. “How to phrase this palatably…” She snapped back to attention. “Right. You work under Mr. Persian and that girl. The trash-cleaning job?”

Mathew nodded. “What about it?”

“Then you’ve been given a taste of how Solceus’ new industries pollute their dungeons and endanger their inhabitants.” Her gaze became dark. “The people of this world are catching up to us, Mr. Walker — and not just in technology. Their doomsday clock is ticking, and if nothing changes, it’ll hit midnight the same way ours did.”

Hit midnight…?

Now it clicked. Impassioned speeches echoed in his mind, demanding action, demanding responsibility, demanding change. Her will to move the fragmented nation to resist the calamity coming upon the Earth was Mathew’s freshest memory of her.

“You haven’t changed, have you?” he remarked. “We’re here for the same reason you wanted the White House. To ‘save the world’. Or, worlds now, I guess.” David and Demurke had said that was the goal, too. It made sense under her vision.

Emily shook her head. “I wish I could say I haven’t changed. I’d call myself hopeless, really — about as hopeless as our old home right now.” She leaned in, horn prongs pointing into the air. “But there is hope for Solceus, still, and that’s worth fighting for.”

Mathew found the explanation almost revitalizing. This wasn’t just some lofty vision — the reason he was here was to prevent an apocalypse. To rid Solceus of the chaos that swept over his home’s streets! That would bring him the peace he wanted. He was certain of it.

He just had to beat Dit’s scrutiny. He had to prove that he belonged in the laboratory and not on the front lines. He had to win David’s game and — Oh shit he’d almost forgotten about that!

Mathew immediately leapt off the bed. Memories were pouring to the forefront — memories of losing his cool. “Where’s David and Joey?! I need to talk to them both!”

“Mr. Emmons is still at the Waregle. However…” Instead of answering, she simply opened the door out of the clinic.

They were waiting for him in the hallway. Demurke shaking off the embarrassment, Jermy breathing a sigh of relief, ORB unflinching and…

“Joey!” Mathew blazed past Emily, stopping just short of hugging the totodile. “Are you okay? Those other recruits didn’t hurt you too much, did they?”

Joey looked at him wide-eyed, seeming surprised by his sudden approach. “Uh, not really?” He pushed him away a little. “My legs are more achy than a burning heart, though…”

Mathew sighed in relief. “Well, that’s good. Did we win?”

He firmly shook his head. “They all busted up the gun. I tried to fix it up, but I ain’t a mechanic like you… The crowd really liked the big spear in the end.”

“Oh.” As he expected. Neither of them were prepared to fend off three trained attackers alone for half an hour. “That’s my fault. I left you literally high and dry out there.”

Joey averted his gaze, staring down the plain, windowless hospital hallway. “About as high and dry as a kite in a sunny sky.”

Mathew grimaced under his mask. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, not even letting him finish. “It ain’t all your fault. My head’s not screwed on straight…”

Mathew wasn’t sure how to answer that. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

Emily walked over to the two, letting the door shut. “If it’s any compensation, Joey, I heard several people talking about you after the game. Your dedication to protecting that weapon wasn’t ignored.”

“Hey, and we thought you knocked it out of the park!” Jermy exclaimed. “For your literal fourth day on Solceus, you were really hamming it up out there!”

ORB wheeled in front of Jermy. “He spent the first five minutes wishing for nails to bite.”

Jermy grit his teeth in a wavering smile and dragged the robot behind him. “Not in front of Emily!” he hissed.

“Well, thanks,” Joey remarked, seeming appreciative. He focused on Mathew again. “Did they tell you she was president?”

“I mean, I knew who she was already,” he said honestly.

“It’s been a couple years and it’s still weird to think about,” Jermy admitted.

Demurke nudged the pikachu. “Uh, your c-country had…millions of p-people in it, right?”

“It does now,” Emily explained for him. “Before the fracturing, it had billions.”

Joey deflated. “I don’t even get to remember the president…”

To Mathew’s surprise, Emily crouched down next to Joey, a look of sympathy in her eyes. “I know it’s a difficult position to be put in,” she told him. “At one point in time, I was forced to bear it myself. In fact, the reason I came to speak to you was to provide my assistance.”

“You… You wanna help?!” The totodile’s eyes lit up as he pointed his maw skyward.

“Of course.” She leaned back, flippers at her sides. “I intend to help you find ways to overcome this rough patch in your recruitment — ways that are more reliable than David’s haphazard effort. I want you to feel acclimated here.”

That seemed to knock Joey down all over again. “Oh.”

Yet another reason to feel guilty. Mathew knew that wasn’t the kind of answer he wanted.

And you’d rather stay pitiful for the rest of your life.

“Could you at least tell him how he ended up like this?!”

All eyes snapped to Mathew. Damnit. He hadn’t meant to put so much passion in that question.

“Of course I can explain,” Emily said, pushing the moment along. “Joey, this organization is closely allied with several powerful forces. It’s only with their help that we’ve been able to amass a team this large. However, there are limits to their power. Those who they bring between the worlds are unable to carry specific memories — only vague understandings of concepts.”

Memories and knowledge… People kept making this distinction everywhere they went. It was so strange. How could education and experience be two different things?

Mathew remembered reading about it somewhere. They gave it a name. What was it? And where… Right! The blueprints!

“The Theory of Consciousness Memory Imprinting!” Mathew repeated to them. “I worked on that damn portal for so long, I totally forgot about the theory side of it.”

Jermy gave him a curious look. “Huh. For some reason, I thought you wouldn’t know about that…”

“Why wouldn’t I? It was on the blueprints.” He paced around as he recollected. “When you jump between worlds, your body isn’t transforming to fit the new location. The new body is actually created from scratch, and your consciousness is put into it. Since the new body has a whole new brain—” He knocked on his skull mask. “—It doesn’t have the previous body’s memories. The only reason we know anything is because our consciousness exists separate from the bodies, and can carry certain things over.”

The way Joey looked at him suggested most of that had gone in one ear and out the other.

“You basically got half-reincarnated when you got to Solceus.”

“Oh!” A flash of recognition came…and went. “That makes as much sense as an egg on a stick. And it still doesn’t explain why you got more memories than me.”

ORB was the one who cut in. “The power of machines is consistency. A well-built machine will fulfill its specified purpose every time.”

“Even when you don’t want them to…” Jermy mumbled.

“The portal machines we make use artificial power sources. As long as that machine is properly powered, the connection it forms between two worlds is as perfect as we currently believe is possible, assisting the conscious in the transfer. Living beings, however, have to expend their own energy, which fluctuates and falters. It’s the difference between a human lifting a boulder with their own hands and a lever doing it.”

Joey squinted at the robot. “I guess that makes sense…”

“Admittedly, it baffles me as well. Making sense of these lines of logic is more to David’s expertise,” Emily said. “What matters is that this is a limitation we must work around. We cannot afford to have members travel to candidates all over Earth to build portal machines. Additionally, maintaining an active portal between Earth and Solceus is quite the expense, combined with the network we have just for this world. Until some milestones are accomplished, we simply don’t have the time or resources to ensure—“

Something clicked just then. Emily was asking for milestones? Mathew had a milestone. Well, he almost did. He shelved the ambitions behind it for the time being because he thought he couldn’t make it a reality. But in a world where science was about fusing magic rocks and proving the existence of the soul, maybe he shouldn’t write off absurdities.

“The Wormhole Wristlet!” he cried, turning to his friend. “That’s the answer, Joey! That’s how we can get you your memories back!”

Joey seemed less confused and more…irritated, somehow. “How many more crazy things do you have up your sleeve?”

“Plenty, I think!” He spoke with pep. Nothing could bring him down from the relief of realizing this was a possibility after all.

Demurke mustered a giggle. “Wh-what kind of name is that…?”

“It’s a great name.” Mathew gave her a harsh side-eye, making her go quiet with a nervous look. “The Wormhole Wristlet was a side project…I came up with while trying to get the actual portal device to work. If I was going to make this, I might as well put my own spin on it too, right? I figured a mobile portal device would be nice on the resume.” Plus, he realized, it ensured he’d have a path back to Earth later on.

“Mobile?!” Jermy exclaimed. “What kind of mobile are we talking about here?”

“It fits like a heavy watch.”

He seemed almost giddy, shaking in-place like an excited kid. “Mathew Walker…following up our work…!”

“It’s not actually done, mind you. You’re supposed to fire portals by…well, you type into this keyboard to put your coordinates in and…” Dammit, words were failing him. The cubone sighed. “It’d be easier to show it to you all than explain it. It’s sitting in my room in the apartment.”

“Well, you have caught my interest, Mr. Walker,” Emily remarked. “Even a half-finished product should help significantly to convince the division heads that you can be an asset to our science team.”

Preemptively, Mathew marched down the hall. “Maybe if I hurry—”

The empoleon put a flipper in his way. “I believe you should spend the duration of the morning resting up. It sounds as though you both have earned the extra time.”

“Ah, fair enough.” He was a bit relieved to be turned around — if he’d been allowed to walk off, he would be forced to admit that he didn’t know where the portal out of this hospital was.

Emily faced Jermy. “Would you be so kind as to obtain Mathew’s machine for him?” she asked.

“Aww, what?” Jermy whined. “Well…okay. Where in your room should I look, Mathew?”

---

Bang bang bang!

This was the second visitor Meowth had received before 7:00 AM. Even when the humans weren’t in his condo, there was no time to rest. Especially when the most energetic person he knew was standing there at his front door.

“Hey.” The darkness did wonders to hide the aging on Minichino’s scarf and hat — and the seriousness on her face. “Can we talk? It’s really important.”

If this was her usual demeanor, Meowth would be inclined to decline. She hated his guts — before the humans had gotten into the picture, she had never once spoken to him outside of a work context. But something about this was different. He’d never seen Minichino without her passionate chipperness. Meowth had to figure out why.

“Sure.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Minichino followed him to his couch. It was surreal to see her neither grinning nor yelling. For a second, Meowth wondered if she’d appreciate an encourage seed. He dropped the thought as soon as he realized that’d require telling her about his encourage seeds.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment. The breaking daylight poured in, casting a faint light over the minccino. Meowth kept standing in the shadows of his home. He’s terrible at icebreakers, Minichino must be thinking.

“Look,” she started. “What you did to Mathew was not cool at all. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about dealing with your dad. And I wanna say…” she looked away, towards the window. “I get it.”

Meowth pressed against the wall. “You get it?” He hunted for that sense of pity he felt when she stormed out of his house two days ago.

“A bunch more than you think.” Suddenly, Minichino pulled back her bycocket hat. She’d been concealing a sheet of paper inside of it. “I get that we don’t see eye-to-eye on a bunch of things, but there’s a whole lot of stuff going on that’s way more important. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask, but… I really need your help with something.”

Now it made sense. The sincerity was just to play on his sympathy, so he’d accept whatever this favor she wanted was. Fine. He’d play along. “Tell me what you’re planning.”

Minichino stared at the paper in her paw. Meowth couldn’t make out the words, but it was clearly a handwritten note. “Mr. Persian told me that he’s gonna be stuck in a meeting with the Club sponsors all morning. Demurke’s out for some reason, too. He wanted me to guard his place, but the sponsors won’t let me. So the place’ll be totally empty this morning.” She looked up firmly. “I want you to snoop around in Mr. Persian’s files while no one’s looking.”

Bewildered, Meowth pushed off the wall. “You’re kidding.” This had to be some kind of trap. What she was proposing was too absurd coming out of her mouth.

She shook her head. “Dude, if I was kidding, I wouldn’t have come over.”

Meowth sat down next to her, preparing to interrogate. “What are you trying to do in there?”

“I can’t tell you everything, but here’s the gist.” Minichino studied her note, then continued. “In his office, there’s this cabinet opposite his desk where he keeps a bunch of profiles on the Pick-it Up Club employees. Mr. Persian’s sponsors help work on them, too.” She looked at him pleadingly, planting her paw firmly on the couch cushion. “It is super, ultra, mega important that I figure out what’s on those profiles. I got too many eyes on me as the Club leader to do it myself.” Her face brightened up, both desperate and encouraging at the same time. “But you’d get in there no problem! They already know you’re a snooper — it can’t get any worse than that, can it?”

Which is to say that I’m enlisting you for this job because you already have a terrible reputation, Minichino was really saying here. Meowth stared back tensely.

“This is a terrible idea.” He said that, but he was…strangely tantalized. He came here in the first place to find out about his father. Was there any better way to find out than see what was stored in his office?

“Trust me, I get it.” Minichino pulled away. “We’re — I’m as crazy about this as you are. I can’t make you go if you really don’t like it. But you are my best bet to make this happen.” She hugged the note to her chest. “And…I want you to find out about your dad. We’d both get what we want, right?”

The impact of what Minichino was saying began to sink in. This wasn’t some prank. Minichino was letting him in on a conspiracy. She even had the audacity to use his dad as a lure. But he had to admit, it was a hard offer to refuse.

In seconds, Meowth had flung open the door to his room and grabbed a camera. “The quicker I’m in and out, the better. Where is his office exactly?”

Minichino rose off the couch. She held the note at her side, the words facing out. “The top floor! Right above where the fitness room is on the bottom floor. There’s an elevator past a locked door in there — check if you can open it.”

Meowth looked at her for a moment, eyes fixated on her paw gripping the paper. He only gave her a nod before moving for his front door.

“Good luck!” She called, her voice quickening as he moved away from her. “If you get caught I’ll try to bail—!”

She hadn’t even finished explaining before he was outside.

Just before leaving, he’d gotten a good look at that note. He couldn’t make out any of the words, but he could clearly see the handwriting.

Cursive. Flowery. Elegant. Meowth would recognize it anywhere. He’d seen page after page written in that style, right in front of him, in his Higher Ed dorm.

That handwriting was Politoed’s.

Validation couldn’t begin to describe how he felt. It wasn’t just his father hiding the truth. It was the whole Club.

---

Never before had Meowth stalked his way through the resort lobby with such tension. Already, his heart was pounding. He tried to stay flush with the early-morning crowd. It didn’t shake the feeling that contempt eyes were watching over him. Could somebody tell at a glance what he planned to do with this camera?

He made for the fitness room. Getting to Mr. Persian’s office was the hardest part, he imagined. If this door was locked, then he’d have to—

“...really hope Mathew wasn’t joking about the wearable part. Someone’s gonna get an earful if this thing’s hefty!”

Jermy’s voice. Meowth hugged one of the walls in the hallway, staying as far as he could from the pikachu and his robot as they walked out of the Fitness Room.

“Jermy, you and I both know that the only one who’s gonna ‘get an earful’ is me,” ORB commented.

Meowth kept a careful eye on the robot as he walked down the hall, past his goal. He remembered how ORB had detected him and the other Club members approaching. If he kept to himself, would ORB see him?

The pikachu sighed. “Yeah, you’re right…” The two of them made for the exit.

If ORB sensed him, he didn’t say anything.

Once they were gone, Meowth doubled back and entered the fitness room. To his surprise, there wasn’t anybody inside. A side door labeled “Authorized personnel only” was left half-open. Just past it, he could see what looked like an elevator of some kind.

This must have been what Minichino was referencing. It’d been Jermy, of all people, who gave him access. What a stroke of luck…

The rickety metal elevator, tall and narrow with only rusted railings to protect the shaft, looked nothing like what he was used to. It didn’t float like others he’d seen — it was designed more like the gondola cars, held up by cables that reached up to the ceiling. There was a staircase that climbed upwards in a spiral around the elevator shaft, but he didn’t have time for that. He pulled the gate open, stepped in, and pressed the button for the highest floor.

It creaked and groaned as it was pulled upward…and after a minute, he made it to floor six. This hallway looked similar to the one he’d seen on the lower floor — bland yellow paint covered the walls, the white ceiling above was tinted a cream shade, and a strangely ornate carpet lined the floor.

After ensuring he was unseen, Meowth prowled through the hallway. It took only a few paces to reach his destination: “Office of the Manager”, as labeled on the door. For the first time ever, Meowth stepped into his father’s office.

For somebody with Minichino on his side, Mr. Persian’s workspace was in remarkable disarray. The blue carpet flooring was faded with dirty lines of paw prints and talon tracks. His mahogany desk was overloaded with paper stacks, pens, and ink vials. The paint on the filing cabinets lining the walls was chipping away, exposing the metallic silver underneath. A window overlooking the ocean below let the dawning light shine on the imperfections. It stood in stark contrast to the gentle, yet formal exterior of the rest of the Resort.

Meowth walked behind Mr. Persian’s desk to get a closer look. The documents topping the stacks seemed focused on resort affairs. Most of it was irrelevant finances, but there were a few that stuck out. Meowth grabbed the first one that looked interesting. It was a list of routine visitors who earned hospitality from the employees and shelter in the resort.

Skiploom VII of Vahle Village… Kricketune II of Rimek… Grotle I of Cosaline…

Eduardo Shortsman.

Meowth blinked. A pokémon with two names? That wasn’t something he saw every day. Most names were either a distinguishing nickname or an identifier of lineage and hometown. But here, the two-named vastly outnumbered the conventional titles. Randy Belle. Truman Beasley. Sam Sirine.

Were these…human names?

He quickly got a convincing answer. There were two names on this list that had been scribbled out, replaced with “ArK” and “GRAcIe” in hasty handwriting. But the names below were still legible.

Mathew Walker. Joey Johdaile.

Kalmwa’er Resort was housing humans — a lot of them. Meowth laid the page out and snapped photos. It wasn’t what Minichino had asked him to find, but it was worth keeping a record of.

Once he was satisfied, the cat set the paper down and snuck over to the filing cabinets across from the desk. Minichino didn’t mention that there was more than one. Annoying… He chose one at random to open first, housing three drawers.

The handle on the bottom drawer was cold to the paw. He pulled open the drawer to find…empty boxes for microwave dinners and open food cans. What? The middle drawer was about the same, hosting another row of frozen foods with quick cooking times. The top drawer was full of the same brands, but the cans were opened, the boxes were torn, and the stacking was all over the place. It was obviously used as a trash can.

When Meowth rummaged through the garbage, he found a stone that’d been kept in the corner underneath it all. It was an ice type stone, commonly used for imbuing to create refrigerators like the one in his condo. That explained where the cold came from, but why convert this filing cabinet into one? They made storage devices specifically to optimize refrigeration that would certainly be better for the job.

For that matter, why did his father have so much food in his working office?

Ha! Look at you, getting all distracted by canned food! He imagined Minichino mocking him. But that wouldn’t stop him from being perturbed. Not only was he keeping food, but he was storing it somewhere inconspicuous at first glance. It was as if he didn’t want visitors to immediately know he kept food in—

And then, turning his head, he saw it next to the cabinet. A discrete, cushiony piece of furniture with short plush walls sat in the corner of the room. It was faded and torn with overuse. Meowth had never seen anything quite like it before, but its size and rimming reminded him of the nest he slept in.

This was a bed. His father would rather eat and sleep in this office than go outside. He was pulling all-nighters. How could he be this obsessed with a hotel over—?

CLANG!

He slammed the cabinet door much harder than he wanted. Shoot. Meowth clamored for the door and put his ear close. This room was supposed to be empty — if any sound reached an employee, they’d have good reason to come in and investigate.

One second of silence.

Two seconds.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps!

Meowth hastily tiptoed behind the desk and splayed behind it. He braced for what would happen next.

The footsteps walked up to the door…and then right past it. False alarm.

He heaved a sigh of relief. Meowth didn’t want to think about what would happen if he was caught.

Meowth rushed back to the cabinets, moving on to the one beside the makeshift refrigerator. The handles on this one were flush with the room’s temperature. He was careful to avoid making it creak as he slowly opened it.

A stack of folders with labeled names of both normal and human variety filled the interior of the cabinet. Separated from the others with a divider were eight files, beginning with “Breloom IV of Mithlline” and ending with “Politoed XXII of Mithlline”. Finally. This was what he was looking for.

Meowth carefully removed the Club’s files and set each one onto the floor in a row.

He pondered where he should start. Should he begin with his human roommates? His now-mysterious co-workers? Himself? No, he wanted to save it for last. It was Minichino who wanted everything else — he’d fulfill that obligation before facing his own desire.

Perhaps the best place to start would be Demurke. She had been a strange presence in his life for some time now. A hint of guilt swept over Meowth when he considered how intrusive looking into her information was, but he refused to let that stop him after years of being in the dark. He opened Demurke’s file.

The following file is a stub, the lone page inside read. The full documentation for this individual can be found in Database 430.

Oh. Well that was disappointing. He wasn’t going to get a reason behind all of those visits she paid him over the years — at least, not here. Jermy’s file turned out to be similar, although his was contained inside Database 724, whatever that meant.

He shrugged to himself. Mathew and Joey first it is.

For only being on Solceus for what was likely a matter of days, Mathew’s document was surprisingly detailed. There was a near-essay inside detailing everything he’d done in Kalmwa’er so far. Meowth wanted to comb over this word-for-word, if only to better understand how to resolve the tension between them, but he was pressed for time. He just took photos of each page, catching cursory glances to each as he did so.

The words “science division” and “military division” kept appearing on each page. Strange. He got the science part, as SEAS was Mr. Persian’s business partner, but…military?

The most significant paper in this was at the back of the file, describing Mathew’s candidacy for recruitment. Right beneath Mathew’s name was the line “Reference: B.L.” Meowth had never heard that abbreviation before…

Out of curiosity, he promptly moved to Joey’s file and flipped through an almost identical essay. The line beneath Joey’s name in the equivalent page was “Reference: B.L. affiliate”.

B.L. He would have to tell Joey that abbreviation later. There was nothing here about their actual histories on Earth, but maybe it’d be a clue for him.

Next was Politoed’s file. The document was much smaller than either of the previous two, only lasting a single page with a simple blurb. Not surprising — what was there to say about Politoed? He’s so perfect he’s unremarkable. Meowth bet all that would be in his file was some praise for his hard work and—

Risk Level: One — Observe.

…What?

A confused study of his profile gave Meowth some ideas on what had gotten Politoed that label. The author of these documents felt that there was a noticeable lack of background information on his past leading up to his position. Additionally, they found his proactiveness in joining the Club so shortly after its founding unusual. When he checked Breloom’s, it gave a very similar story.

Normally, Meowth would be quick to dismiss such suspicion. Politoed and Breloom were just some people who moved in from out-of-town to study in the Kalmwa’er School of Higher Education — what ‘background’ could they possibly have? But that note Minichino had on her was definitely written by his former dormmate. And, when he thought about it…Politoed and Breloom didn’t talk about their homes a lot.

But that probably wasn’t important. In Higher Ed, you talk about your home life with friends. Meowth was not their friend.

It wasn’t until he opened Minichino’s file that he realized just how big it was. The chronicling of her life was almost obsessive in detail. There were sections describing her environmentalist philosophies, a vague description of her family members, and her current membership at the Kalmwa’er Church of Arceus. Meowth didn’t think of her as the religious type — it never came up during work.

What disturbed him was that this file was much older than the Club. Some were dated as far back as the early 2050s, when Minichino should’ve been a young child. It made him feel weird looking at them, so he averted his eyes while he snapped photos.

The last page was where her risk level was marked: “Three — Moderate”. The words “Prevent her from information collection at all costs” popped out at him towards the bottom. It was crossed out with ink, and a note had been written next to it saying “under control”.

Considering he was here, they didn’t have it as under control as they thought.

All that was left was his own document. He was so eager before, but now? These documents spoke of militaries and risk levels and background checks and…very not-hotel-like business. This was something so much bigger.

Was he…wrong about the reason behind Mr. Persian’s departure from his life? No, no. He had to…

He threw his file open.

Mutual Agreement of Familial Uninvolvement

Meowth’s grip on the first page tightened. His heart raced as he skimmed through the document with baited breath. The contract illustrated a deal where “OCEAN” would avoid involving the signer’s family with the company’s business as long as the signer made their own effort to prevent their family doing so. It was a horrific exchange.

Signed: Persian I of Kalmwa’er

Proof of Witness: Emily Prest

…And his father had agreed to sign it for the sake of his resort.

Meowth took the last photos of the documents, staring at them with wide eyes. Mr. Persian didn’t just set him aside for selfish reasons — he signed deals to make it happen. All part of keeping him away from whatever this all was. What did his father even want, interacting with all these humans?

Answers for his motivations were so beyond him that the cat saw little point in trying to understand them here. Right now, he needed to get out of here before he was spotted.

Meowth carefully placed the folders back and slowly pushed open the door. Peer to the right…peer to the left…still, nobody. He would have wondered what left these halls so barren at dawn, but he was just glad to have such good luck at this point.

Unfortunately, once he was back on the ground floor, his luck ran out.

The moment he pushed the door to the fitness room open, the sound of Jermy and ORB chattering filled his ears. Meowth wanted to panic, but keeping a level head was the only way out of this. He needed to improvise fast.

He flung himself onto one of the bipedal treadmills and flipped it on, not caring that it was clearly sized for a pokémon much larger than him. He tossed the camera behind the thing and started running, hoping his previous nerves could be mistaken for exhaustion.

“...And then I’m gonna — oh, Meowth!” All at once, Jermy sounded surprised at his presence, bemused by the sight of his layabout self running on a treadmill, and very much like he wished he wasn’t in this room. He was carrying some kind of strange machine, but Meowth couldn’t get a good look at it and run at the same time. “What are you scampering in here for?”

“Exercise,” he answered. “I wanted to get a jog in before work.”

The pikachu cocked his head and his arms. “Huh. Never thought you were the kind of guy to get a workout!”

Usually you just lay around all day, Meowth figured he was thinking right now.

“Is it wrong for me to want to try something different?”

“You can try anything you want,” ORB said, rolling towards the end of the room, “if you can explain why this door is hanging open.”

“I dunno,” he deflected. “It was like that when I got here.” That technically wasn’t a lie.

ORB looked at the door frame, then turned to Jermy. “I wonder whose fault that is?”

“Hey, I locked the door just like I was supposed to!” Jermy exclaimed. “I pushed the door open, and… Huh.” The realization flashed on his face. “Right. Whoops.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy whining over the size of a glorified wrist watch, you would have remembered,” ORB snided.

Jermy heaved. “Look. It’s just a door. No one’ll know if I just forgot to lock a door for ten minutes, right?”

“I hope so. Remember when we first went up to Mr. Persian’s office and I said ‘Wow, this floor is so comically underprotected, I could sneak in myself’? It would be very embarrassing if somebody found their way up there.”

Meowth hoped the intensity of his sprint would hide his grimace. That robot was absolutely on to him. This was bad. What could he say to get him off his tail…?

“Hey, don’t sweat it too much!”

Meowth took Minichino’s arrival as an excuse to cut the treadmill off, leaping for the power button.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on this door the whole time,” she told Jermy. “Not a soul going in or out!”

“Oh, uh… Nice!” Jermy said. He leaned his body away from Minichino, hiding whatever it was in his arms from her.

Meowth tried to play along. “You’ve been watching me walk?”

She crossed her arms. “Hey, I already wrapped up the Club preparation! It’s not like I have anything better to do!”

He couldn’t tell if she was really that smarmy or if she was just playing it up.

“Aaaanyways,” Jermy cut in, “we’ve got places to be! See you in a bit!” He rushed to the door entrance, cradling the contraption tightly. Past the whir of the treadmill, Meowth could hear the click of the lock.

After a few seconds, Minichino sighed in relief, before looking at him firmly. “How’d you do?”

Meowth hopped off the treadmill, letting its spin slow to a stop, and picked up the camera. He held it up for her. “There were some beautiful views up there.”

The cat expected a snide comment from Minichino, boasting about how she had just saved him from being caught — but she just crossed her arms, nodding with approval. “Thanks a lot! You really dunno how much of a help this is.”

Meowth simply shrugged. “I got what I wanted, I guess.”

Mission accomplished…but what would it mean for them now?

---

“Aaaaand… Go!”

Mathew smacked his finger on the ‘enter’ key of the bulky wrist watch wrapped loosely around his left hand. From the top of the machine came a black bolt that shot into the open air of the Waregle and then dissolved. Trailing it was a black-colored opening, following its path like a pair of invisible zippers, one opening and closing. The rift, a product of months of experimentation, only existed for a mere two seconds.

Mathew was met with a modest applause by the crowd — his coworkers, Emily, and now David. The group had stopped the decidueye as he was wiping away debris left by the crowd so he could get a look.

“Very impressive!” he remarked, taking a handful from a bag of popcorn he was holding. “It resembles several of our drafts for portable portal devices. To get this far without any help is an achievement!”

Mathew nodded. “Yeah. As I was trying to explain before, if we can’t rewire your existing portal network, then this would be a fine alternative. If I can get the Wormhole Wristlet to make a stable portal, I could take Joey back to Earth, get him his memories back, and bam, problem solved. We could even do it for the other recruits, too.” And he didn’t even have to do anything particularly painful! Other than figure out how to make a portal work without a frame, obviously.

Joey stared at the Wristlet in awe. “So that tiny little thing can really take me over yonder to Earth…? Wow.” He seemed relieved.

Emily didn’t disapprove of Mathew’s proposition, although she looked rather contemplative for a reason Mathew couldn’t discern. “It’s interesting. I had sworn we agreed not to include…”

David’s beak wasn’t as flexible as human lips, but even Mathew could see him mouth “we did” to her. That seemed to stop the empoleon from clarifying.

“Still, if this is what must be done to resolve your unease, then so be it. You should see to finishing that project as soon as possible.”

Jermy scratched his head. “A frameless rift… How would we make that work?”

David heaved, seeming irritated by his own uncertainty. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Mathew looked up at him, lowering his arm weighted down by the machine. Had David already seen a flaw in his plan? “Why’s that?”

“This Wristlet project of yours can form the cut between worlds, but you’re missing a frame to hold it open. Here on Solceus, though, there might be a way around that.”

“Oh!” Jermy’s cheeks sparked in tandem with his ‘eureka’ moment. “Psychic type stones?”

“I was about to say it myself!” David eyed Jermy with a wry grin. The pikachu didn’t try to match it. “As you saw with Kell, the psychic type grants various mind-controlled abilities, like lifting objects, or hypnotizing people. In many cases, the equivalent stone allows objects to be influenced by the mental willpower of any pokémon.”

Mathew tried to stay still, hoping it’d hide how much he tensed at that detail. “So you’re saying, if I imbued this with a psychic type stone, I could…hold the portal open with my mind?”

Joey looked between the trio of scientists, pretending like he understood any of this. “I don’t get how that works, but if it gets the Wristlet done quick and easy, I ain’t gonna complain.”

“It would be easy, but…” Emily cut in. “I recall hearing from our associates that psychic type stones are exceedingly rare due to the power they contain.”

David nodded. “That’s the catch. We can search for the stone…but there’s a chance we won’t find it in time.” He turned to the recruits. “We need a backup plan.”

Mathew grimaced. The cubone had thought that he had finally found an easy solution, but if they didn’t get that psychic stone in time, what was he going to do…?

Chapter 13: Distance

Chapter 12: Distance

Joey sat quietly on the couch in Meowth’s home as the evening sun poured into the living room. Everyone else was either out of the house or had retreated to their rooms. It was dead silent.

Once more, the totodile flipped idly through the pages of the scrapbook. He was still peeking at all these unfamiliar faces, waiting for something, anything new to click. Ever since he cracked it open before dawn, he’d kept it fresh on his mind.

Right now, everything in his life felt like a cruel irony. Mathew’s scrapbook, a gift meant to ease his worries, only unearthed more questions. His partnership with Meowth was supposed to bring them closer to the truth, but so far it only served to make Mathew angrier. So many of the pokemon he met in SEAS seemed to know more about Mathew than he was allowed to. It’s as if the world was taunting him for his ignorance at every turn.

Even when he got answers, they weren’t what he was looking for. He knew a lot about the Walker family now, but the Johdaile family remained such an enigma. Earlier, Meowth mumbled something to him about a ‘B.L. affiliation’. Joey appreciated the tip, although he was left confused by his terseness when he asked Meowth where he’d heard that term. But it didn’t really help clear up the mystery.

At the end of the day, all he could say about Greg and Catherine was that they were Mathew’s friends. Nothing about whether they were nice folk, or whether they were raising him right, or whether they made sure to keep him safe.

The longer he went without the truth, the more he worried. Meowth assured him that whatever haunted Mathew probably wasn’t his fault, but that wasn’t everything. Why was it that Joey had been brought to Kalmwa’er alone? If not him, what did his mom and dad have to do with the life path Mathew’s been walking? What parts of his lingering knowledge-base could he attribute to them?

And, when Joey picked up that poison gun and held it…why did it feel so natural in his hand…?

He grit his teeth and dropped the scrapbook on the couch cushion. All these thoughts were eating Joey up inside. Whenever he wasn’t preoccupied with SEAS or the Club or training, they directed his mindset like a rider on a saddled horse. Having no identity was his only identity.

But every time he tried to fight it, tried to peel back his curtain, it just seemed to hurt himself and Mathew. Joey had been so annoyed at Mathew’s selective disclosure at Minichino’s house yesterday, but now he didn’t know what to think. Was he doing the right thing, getting Meowth to help him figure this all out?

Maybe it was time he gave it up for a bit.

The totodile sighed. He didn’t really want to stop fishing for his past. Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom had advised him to keep his eyes on his memories instead of his job. But did their advice really ring true? It was Demurke who told him that Greg and Catherine weren’t present in SEAS’ ranks. It was listening to David that helped Joey learn more about what he agreed to before he arrived. Now, with Mathew’s Wormhole Wristlet in the picture, SEAS’ help could be the whole key to retrieving his memories.

It was high time that Joey changed his approach. He needed to accept that playing along with their recruitment was the best way to move forward. On top of the Wristlet, being in a secure position with SEAS, before this whole mess with Meowth, seemed to put Mathew in a better mood. Perhaps securing their jobs would be enough to get Mathew to divulge the truth.

He still reckoned he would help Meowth — that part hadn’t changed. As long as he could do so without angering Mathew, he would. But more importantly, he needed to play this role. He needed to fulfill what SEAS wanted of him. He needed to let go.

So he would. For now.

Chapter 14: Twin Ploys

Chapter 13: Twin Ploys

Each time Joey joined the rest of the Club for post-work training, he couldn’t help but notice how different life seemed to be for folks living at the bottom of the cliff compared to the top. Meowth and the others at the top got lavish condos, well-trimmed yards, and big, sweeping views of the ocean. Minichino and the others that were close to the cliffs and far from the center of town weren’t so lucky. They had to contend with untrodden roads with weeds sprouting up from the dirt everywhere you looked, and homes that were sore on the eyes.

Minichino’s place demonstrated the worst of it. The walls were so thin that Joey could tell where one room ended and another began from the outside — it was like seeing the bones poking out of the skin of the house. Joey was told that the other houses had steel roofing because they protected against any rockfall. The designers of her home couldn’t even afford that protection. The old, drained color from the outer walls seemed like they could suck the hope out of just about anyone.

But not Minichino, nor the rest of the Club, it seemed. Her spirit in each training session never seemed to waver. It was almost infectious, Joey found — it was hard not to give it his all when she was doing the same.

“Woah!” Politoed exclaimed as he stumbled from the strength of his Water Gun attack. “Felt more power in that one than any of the others.”

Joey was quick to follow up by sinking a precise bite into the frog’s arm. Judging by the wince in pain, followed by his grin, Politoed clearly thought well of his form.

“Both you are…really starting…to get with it,” Breloom conceded, knocking away swing after swing from Mathew. She wasn’t able to hold him back when he used his skull mask to bash her chest in.

“Woooo! Yeah!” Minichino gleefully cheered, refereeing their practice with the eagerness that she brought to every event. She was close to throwing her arms up in the air, but she stopped short. In one paw was a mug full of coffee — the other, a berry smoothie she brewed.

Today was the last workday before a two-day weekend, a routine Solceus shared with Earth. Everyone was in high spirits, and all of them were about to have at least slightly more free-time.

That’s when an idea came to Joey. He had to find a way to help Mathew with his new plan to grab their attention, right? And what better way could he do that than keep up the positive energy and get everybody in on it?

“Hey, y’all!” Joey exclaimed, grabbing the attention of everyone before they had the chance to disperse. “Mathew and I are gonna go looking for a psychic type stone over yonder in the market after practice. Anybody wanna come help us?”

“I don’t really have anything better to do until this evening, so…why not?” Minichino remarked.

“J-Jermy and I were…g-gonna help anyway,” Demurke said.

“Seems like a real challenge,” Politoed said. “Aren’t psychic type stones pretty rare?”

However, of all of them, it was only Breloom who asked a cutting question Joey failed to consider. “What do you need a psychic type stone for?”

Shoot.

It had slipped from Joey’s mind that he and Mathew were sworn to secrecy about their SEAS affairs. How the heck was he supposed to explain this? “Oh, Mathew and I are building a portal device to take me back to Earth so we can fix my memories and save ourselves from the military complex”? His SEAS knowledge would be leakier than an old faucet on a rainy day! “Uh… Um… It’s for a contraption SEAS is making,” he said, hoping the vagueness would get them off his case.

“Huh, you’re helping them with a product already?” Breloom remarked. “That’s pretty cool. What kind of product? A TV? A vacuum cleaner? Air conditioning? Something else?”

…SEAS makes TVs and vacuums cleaners and air conditioners?! How did Joey know so little about this dang company?! He had no idea how to answer this! And if he just said “We’re not supposed to talk about that,” that’d probably look weird, too! Desperately, he looked to Jermy and Demurke.

Fortunately for the totodile, Jermy seemed to be on top of it. “...Huh? What the — ORB? Hellooooooooo?”

“What’s up with ORB?” Minichino asked.

“He just…randomly turned off. I think he’s broken.” Jermy looked to him, Mathew, and Demurke. “Mathew! Joey! Demurke! I’m gonna need your help on this!” Jermy almost grabbed Joey by the arm to lead him towards Minichino’s house. “Hey, can we work on him in your place real quick?”

“Uh, yeah, sure! Key’s under the welcome mat.”

Jermy led them all into the house with urgency. He set ORB down on the kitchen table, snatched the club out of Mathew’s hands, and used the sharp edge as a screwdriver, opening ORB up from the back. Dozens of wires were exposed, as was the weighted computer that allowed him to operate. The computer was stuffed into the left side of ORB, counter-balancing the weight of the lone claw.

“Okay, that should make it look like we’re actually working on ORB,” he remarked.

Mathew proceeded to immediately slam his face into Minichino’s couch. The robe draped over it dropped and covered his masked muzzle. “Damn it, Joey…” He groaned. “This is the last thing we needed right now!”

“I’m sorry! I was just trying to help!” Joey said.

“Pipe down, you two,” Jermy whispered, tugging at his long ears. “We’re not boiling in hot water just yet, but we might be if they hear us through these walls.”

Demurke looked to the door. “We p-probably have about five minutes u-until our excuse…doesn’t sound s-so convincing.”

Mathew sighed. “Right.” He rolled off of the couch. “Thanks for the quick thinking, at least.”

Jermy smiled awkwardly, tapping his fingers. “It was actually ORB’s idea…”

“Does SEAS make machines that ain’t got to do with this crazy war stuff?” Joey asked the recruiters.

“Yeah. We make products for the business division to sell, too,” Jermy explained. Demurke nodded in agreement.

“So what you’re saying is that you two are the second most qualified people to bail us out of this,” Mathew remarked.

“S-Sure!” Demurke said, looking almost flattered. “We’ll…g-give it a try.”

The four of them started crafting a lie that would most easily make the other Clubs members brush off their curiosity. Joey tried to contribute where he could, but the other three thought fast and spoke faster, so he didn’t get to add very much. It was fair, considering he was the one who caused all this.

Still, he worried about how it made him look. Was that camera that Dit got a photo from still here…?

The totodile couldn’t help but see some comedy in the situation. They needed to do everything they could to hide their humanity from the rest of the Club, but thanks to him, they already knew. He was sure they were chuckling about it outside, not worrying about it at…

…Huh. When Joey peered out one of the windows to get a look outside, he was met with a scene he wasn’t expecting. Yes, Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom were all talking, but even at a distance, he could tell that it wasn’t really a fun chat. They all had serious expressions on their faces, muttering things so quietly that not even the faintest of sounds made it through the glass. None of the three noticed Joey eyeing them at all. Were they all scheming, too?

“Okay, th-that should probably be convincing enough,” Demurke murmured. “Are we all…?”

“Yeah, let’s hop to it!” Jermy exclaimed. He closed up ORB, then led them back outside. Joey tried to keep a poker face.

Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, in stark contrast to what he saw a second ago, were in a much more casual position — spread out, slouched over, and generally looking like they were having a nice chat about the weather. “You guys patch ORB up?” Politoed asked.

“Nope!” Jermy exclaimed, holding up the limp robot. “We tried our best, but it looks like ORB’s just dead. I’m gonna have to fix this with better equipment later.”

“My condolences,” Minichino said with a bow.

“Yeah. Anyways…” Breloom sprung to her feet. As if on-cue, Politoed joined her and the two closed the distance between one another. “What was all this type stone stuff about, again?”

“Oh!” Joey said. “Yeah! You were right. We’re actually helping SEAS with a big project!”

“Really? Dang.” Politoed looked to Jermy. “You sure Joey can just come out and say that?”

“He sure can!” Jermy took two steps closer to Politoed to speak with him better. “It’s totally cool!”

“W-Well, technically it’s a secret…” Demurke added, promptly planting herself next to Jermy to clarify the details of their story. “B-But you guys have been g-great friends, so…we can tell you!”

“Heh, I’m flattered.” Breloom, keeping a spring in her step, took two steps backwards. “Don’t tell me you’re sharing because it’s for some music-related thing!”

Politoed moved back, matching Breloom. “Music’s great, but it’s not our everything to keep up with the latest tech for that kind of stuff.”

Jermy followed suit, moving forward. “No, no! SEAS is radical, but not that radical. We’re not into the music-making business.”

“Y-Yet! I’m sure w-we could convince them.” Two steps forward.

“Well, anyways, we’re getting off topic. If you two want to share all those juicy details with us, go right ahead.” Two steps backward.

“We’re on it!” Two steps forward. “So, the scientists over at SEAS thought…”

All of a sudden, Joey and Mathew were separated from their recruiters. Jermy and Demurke were too busy chatting it up with the power couple to notice him.

“Hey, guys.” The two of them were halted by Minichino. Her voice, for some reason, was rather quiet. “Are you two doing okay?”

Mathew cocked his head. “What? Of course we’re doing okay,” he said, confused.

“I dunno. If you ask me, you both seemed way too panicked when Breloom asked you about the stone — especially you.” She gestured to Joey.

“W-Well, I was put on the spot…” Joey said defensively.

“You were! But still, this all seems like a little bit much over such a basic question, you know?” Minichino’s voice became more sincere, and a bit less light. “You’re sure things over at SEAS are good?”

Mathew shook his head fiercely, with an intense expression on his face. Joey was about to do the same, but…she was right, wasn’t she? With such high stakes going on, SEAS’ recruitment was getting very worrisome, even when the totodile was trying to not let it get to him. He had already trusted Minichino with information way more severe than his state of mind. Was it really worth it to lie about how he felt?

To his indecision, Minichino intensified further. “Look. Later this evening, after we’re done with this type stone search, I wanna talk to you guys about stuff. We can’t do it here though.” She patted the side of her house. “There’s a big building a couple streets down from the Higher Education campus — trust me, you can’t miss it. I want you two to meet me in there. Just you two. Don’t take anybody else.”

Joey was flabbergasted. He and Minichino had had private conversations before, but nothing like this. At the same time as Mathew, he looked back to Jermy, Demurke, Politoed, and Breloom. None of them were listening in on this. What was going on here…?

“Minichino, what the hell are you talking about?” Mathew seemed to feel the same confusion. “I’m not interested in any crazy plans to—”

“It’s nothing crazy!” Minichino said. “I’m not gonna hypnotize you like Meowth or anything. I couldn’t do that if I tried!” She squinted at Mathew, to no avail. “Just…I need to tell you some things that you need—well, deserve to know.”

“Wow, Jer!” Breloom’s loud proclamation reached all three of them. “This sounds pretty cool. You can count Poli and me in!”

They had about ten seconds before this moment of privacy vanished. “I promise, I just want to help,” she pleaded one last time.

Joey looked to Mathew. He seemed concerned, skeptical, almost fearful. The last thing either of them needed was more trouble to make Dit wary about. But Minichino was somebody both of them respected. If she was asking them to speak with her because she knew something important…

As the moment broke away, neither of them objected to Minichino’s offer, and that seemed to serve as a sufficient answer.

---

Emily had suggested Mathew take it easy yesterday morning. Unfortunately, ‘catching a break’ was not in Mathew’s vocabulary these days. As long as there was a possibility that their main plan could fail, he couldn’t afford to rest.

Until Joey intervened, Mathew had expected to contribute to the hunt for the stone on his own. Now, the entire Club was stumbling through town, searching through every store they could find along the way. Mathew scoured every cabinet and shelf, then turned to the cashier and asked “Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to have a psychic type stone, would you?” Each time, Mathew was met with shaking heads and scowls.

He probably shouldn’t have expected much from the Solcean equivalent of a tourist trap.

The other Club members didn’t have any better luck. Even if somebody in Kalmwa’er did have a psychic type stone, it’d probably be too expensive for them to afford, with how rare it seemed.

It was a futile effort. But what else was Mathew supposed to do? Find a stone mine himself? He had to help their chances somehow. It’s not like he had a real backup plan yet.

He could try to finish the Wormhole Wristlet without a type stone, but he didn’t nearly have the time and wisdom to do that in eight days. He could try staging another event to show off, but that would be too transparent. He could try to…actually tell Joey…nope, that’s not happening.

Mathew poked a pebble along with his club. If only a so-called ‘therapist’ had actually helped me, maybe that last part could’ve still worked, he thought. His anger was still fizzing within, but there was little he could do about that when his position in SEAS was occupying so much of his attention.

As the Club all split apart for the evening, sharing their “We tried our best”s and “Thank you for the help”s as they parted ways, that lack of hope continued to linger. Mathew was still stewing on it while he and Joey were doubling back away from the gondola. Who knows how much worse it could get if Minichino tried something like Meowth’s stunt?

With the evening sun shining down on them, he and Joey weaved their way through the streets. Mathew peered through the window of each building that passed them by, wondering if this was the place Minichino. Assuming she wasn’t leading them to some back alley, it had to be some kind of public building, right?

That was when the sound of chatter reached their ears. There seemed to be some hubbub a few streets over.

“I wonder what that’s all about,” Joey remarked.

“Maybe it’s some kind of party?” Leading Joey along, Mathew rounded a corner and headed in the direction of the chatter. It wasn’t hard to find the source.

Standing on the side of the street was a tall and wide building built from worn brick. Emblazoned on its front was a yellow circle with lines jutting out in an X shape towards two arcs. Stairs rose up from the dirt to meet the building at the center of the circle, forming a very fancy entryway to a pair of tall open doors.

It was there, at the base of those stairs, where the pokémon were gathered.

“The latest and greatest!” a voice shouted. A small crowd was gathered in front of the building, carrying around stacks of newspapers. Each pokémon was garbed in robes of a strikingly gold color.

“Big announcement from Rayquaza! New development on Solceus’ hottest topic!” another voice said.

“The Scolton Gateway’s biggest publication yet!” a third voice exclaimed.

Joey squinted at the building and the crowd beneath it. “What kinda rodeo’s going on here?”

“It looks like a weird cross between a church and a printing press.” The cubone studied all those robes. Strange. Had he seen one like those somewhere before?

This certainly wasn’t the kind of building that was easy to miss. Was this what Minichino meant?

“Hey, this is a bigger hunch than a hunchback in Notre Dame, but I think we should go in.” Joey had the same idea.

“Right.” Mathew pushed his way through the crowd, repeating a polite “Thanks, but no thanks” to each pokémon they passed. Joey fell a bit behind, and when he caught up, there were four copies clutched in his hands.

“You took four of them?” Mathew remarked, peering back at the totodile.

“Look, they were really nice folks,” he said. “And besides, I like crossword puzzles.”

“But they’re all the same crossword?”

“It’ll be a good time-waster!”

The cubone wasn’t ready for how majestic the interior would be. It was an expansive mall of a space, with wooden floors lined by red carpet. A walkway surrounded lines of seats forming a shape similar to a basketball court. Instead of hoops, there was a raised platform with a microphone mounted for use at the center.

What grabbed Mathew’s attention more, however, were the brass statues. They lined the walkway in their own displays, as if it were an art gallery. Some statues were alone, while others were in groups. Mathew slowly walked around, studying each one. Joey followed, but had his attention divided by the newspaper.

As they took a lap around, the figures slowly became familiar to Mathew. That’s…what’s his name…Xerneas, isn’t it? Yveltal… The little blue one… That one guy from Pokémon Go… Are those two supposed to look like planes? Not all of them he could put a name to, but he could get the pattern recognition. These were the Legendary Pokémon, all represented here in miniature form.

There was one particular set that prompted Mathew to stop walking. All four of them were avians, mostly, with three in the front and one propped up behind them. One had fluffy-looking plumage on its neck and a graceful streamer-like tail. One had fierce, angular wings and a lengthy beak. One was coated in flames, from the tail to the wings to the head. The one in the back had massive wings close in shape to hands, a wide stomach, and plates running along its back.

Articuno, Zapdos, Moltres, and Lugia. These were, as he knew them, the Legendary Birds.

Mathew had noticed some bouquets and other small objects rested on the floor in front of some statues, but these four were showered in commemorative flowers and petals. These offers clearly celebrated some kind of high honor. But what…?

It took Joey bumping into him, wide eyes buried on the page, to usher Mathew forward again. He continued along, eyes peeled for Minichino. He didn’t mind that she hadn’t showed up yet — there was a certain statue he was looking for now that he wanted to see first…

Yep, this is the one. To Mathew’s surprise, it was only marginally taller than all of the others, giving it relatively little majesty. He told Joey to wait just in time to avoid another collision.

The statue resembled the likeness of a goat, with a long neck and equally long legs. Its head was almost incomparable to any animal — Mathew could best compare the shape of its face to a helmet or a mask, with a conic appendage stretched out from the back. The statue’s firm eyes almost met his gaze.

Around the statue’s abdomen was a ring of sorts. From that ring, four tiny spires jutted out from it in that same X-shape, linked together by those same two arcs.

This statue was in the likeness of Arceus.

Mathew knew very little about the Arceus of the games on Earth. It felt like he knew even less here. Was this a church for Solcean worship of Arceus? Surely if his symbol was emblazoned on the entrance, it had to belong to him. But in this line-up, he seemed no more significant than the rest of the pantheon.

Huh. Now that he thought about it, wasn’t this the same symbol he was supposed to draw to imbue type stones?

He shook his head. The truth was that he simply didn’t know anything about religion on Solceus. But, while he was here, he…may as well respect the culture of the world he’s stepped into, right? Besides, Mathew was desperate.

Hey, uh, Arceus, is it? He spoke internally, lowering his gaze. I don’t know if you, like, listen to people or anything, but if you do… I could really use some help. If I f—screw up this shot I have, I’m not gonna get the life that I want, and everything I’ve done up to now won’t mean anything. Please, could you like, beam me a backup plan into my head? Or if you’re feeling super generous, could you send a psychic type stone my way? It doesn’t matter how you do it — you could hide it next to a bush I run into, strike me in the head, I don’t care. I just really need this. If you do it, I promise I’ll…be an advocate for your cool religion or something. Please… Uh, a-amen?

“Hey. Super glad you two made it.”

Mathew snapped out of his awkward prayer and looked to his side. There she was — Minichino, standing before them with a gentle smile on her face. To his surprise, Politoed and Breloom were with her, standing a couple paces back and keeping an eye on the door to the church. Those two stood in the shadow of the statues next to Arceus — a legendary Mathew didn’t recognize with gems substituting for hair and taking up space on her chest as jewelry.

But more than anything, Mathew was drawn towards Minichino’s attire. On top of the tattered scarf and Robin Hood-style hat, she was garbed in golden robes, just like the other pokémon around the building.

Now he remembered. That robe she was wearing had been sitting on her couch this whole time, right in front of them. If it was supposed to be a uniform for this church, then…

“Minichino,” Mathew said, surprised. “Are you a priest here?”

She raised her arms. “Surprise?”

---

Joey’s attention was splintered between Mathew, Minichino, Politoed and Breloom, the strange statues towering over them, and the words in his hands. He had so many questions…but he reckoned he knew which one they had brought them here to answer.

“Did y’all bring us here to talk about this?” He turned the front page of the paper towards the priest and the other Club members. “About the war?”

Mathew looked to Joey in surprise. Before the totodile could act, he snatched one of his spare copies out of his grip and started looking at it himself. “The ‘Great Legendary War’...?” he read aloud.

Politoed was the one to answer. “Been going on for over ten years now.”

“We kinda got the impression you’re pretty sheltered over in Cosaline,” Breloom remarked. “So we thought we’d tell you a bit about it.”

Joey gulped. He knew why they really thought that. He was thankful none of them were giving away their knowledge to Mathew.

“I think I heard people talking about it at some point,” the cubone said, acting bashfully, “but I don’t know much.”

“That’s exactly why we brought you here!” Minichino turned, gesturing for all of them to follow. “You both gotta know what’s going on here.”

Joey passed Mathew a worried look before following her, leaving the two statues behind.

“All of the statues you see here are stand-ins for the Legendary Court — the overseers of Solceus. They’ve been squabbling over how much or little they should get involved with our lives before Solceus even existed. There’s been a big spike in new members to the Court recently, too, which causes even more head-butting!” she explained. “But the structure stays the same. The secondary Courts of Land, Sea, Sky, Life, Death, and Order…and at the center of it all is the Arcean Court, where Arceus is trusted with the final say.”

Joey repeated those seven names to himself. Life and death, land and sea and sky… What was that sixth one? He shook his head. Not important, he reckoned. “How long’s it been that way?”

“Since the beginning,” Politoed chimed in. “But, in our lifetime, that might change.”

They stopped Mathew and Joey at a different statue. This draconic pokémon did not look quite as graceful as the others. His eyes were devoid of pupils, shielded by a pair of misshapen horns. His wings, too, were misshapen. the wing to Joey’s left looked as if most of it had been slashed right off. At the back, he had a tail that Mathew likened to a turbine under his breath.

“Recently, there’s been a couple Legendary Pokémon thinking differently. They say that we’ve been doing it all wrong, and that us mortal pokémon aren’t getting the treatment we deserve. They think that Arceus is to blame, and he needs to go.” Minichino pointed to the draconic statue. “That’s their leader. His name’s Kyurem, and he only joined the Court of Death about two hundred years ago. He came up with the name ‘Anti-Arceus Alliance’, or the Triple A for short.”

Joey took this in with amazement. A full-scale war between gods? He couldn’t really fathom it.

Mathew seemed less surprised and more curious. “Not the treatment you deserve? In what ways?” He gave a sweeping look at their coworkers. “...And do you think that they’re right?”

“Well, it depends on who you ask! A lot of them think Legendary Pokémon are too uninvolved, and that lets things like plastic get made and muck up the dungeons.”

This world’s doomsday clock is ticking. Emily had told Joey that when she came to visit Mathew in the hospital. He already understood pollution was bad…would inaction count as ticking, too?

“About your last question, though?” Breloom piped up. “I don’t give the Court more attention than I have to. But, I dunno. Pollution and danger aside, I think we have it pretty good with Arceus.”

Politoed nodded. “Not crazy about the idea of killing him.”

Joey gawked. “Wait, that’s what y’all meant by ‘he’s gotta go’?!”

“You guys can kill God here? It wouldn’t blow up the world or anything?” Mathew asked, surprised.

“…God?” Minichino seemed wholly unfamiliar with the word.

“Legendaries, Arceus, whatever you call them.”

“When somebody becomes a Legendary Pokémon, their soul becomes tethered to Solceus,” Politoed explained. “Been told that, when one dies, it’s easy for Xerneas and Yveltal to find that soul and bring it back to life. Not the case for us ordinary Pokémon.”

“That’s why the Court wages war by dueling each other to the death until one side remains,” Breloom added. “It’s still their jobs to protect mortals. Regular pokémon with lives to lose fighting on behalf of the immortal Court’s something they call unacceptable. So unless you happen to not actually be Solcean, you’ve gotta watch on the sidelines.”

“Bring people back to life, huh…” Mathew went quiet for a moment, looking away from them all.

Joey was still mulling this all over. It was a lot take in — enough to leave him feeling overwhelmed. He thought this was gonna be all about their mindset with the job, and here he was, getting lectured on the gods. “This is all handy to know, but why’d you rope us in all this way instead of just yammering on at your house?”

Minichino gripped the side of her robe with her paw. The three of them closed the gap between Mathew and Joey, lowering her voice. “Because SEAS’ got two names. Everyone gets that they’re the Scientific Engagement and Activity Society on the outside…but what they actually call themselves on the inside is OCEAN.”

OCEAN…Joey thought he might have heard soldiers referencing an ‘ocean’ in the Waregle before. “What does it mean?”

Minichino took a breath, as if she had to muster the strength to repeat it herself. “The Organized Committee for the Erasure of Arceus’ Negligence.”

“Hah?” Joey took a step back. “Erasure of Arceus’ Negligence? Does that mean they—?”

“They’re trying to play a role in the war.” Mathew was quicker to reach the implied conclusion than Joey was. “That’s why you’re telling us all this for, right?”

She nodded. “If they’re really building armies like I’ve heard, then they’re breaking millions of years’ worth of tradition. Obviously, anybody who wants to work there should know that, right?”

Joey was left in stunned silence for a moment. This whole war thing seemed to have cascading consequences, and it sounded like SEAS, or OCEAN, wanted in on it, for one reason or another. Even if it meant breaking some rules…

…Did that…change much? Yes, it was important to know what they were fighting for, and it was a shame that it took Minichino for that truth to come out. But he and Mathew already knew that OCEAN owned an army and sought a greater mission.

For that matter, neither of them really knew anything about Arceus. Maybe he really was a bad god. Then again, he could just as easily reckon that he was a good god. It’d be hard to get clarity either way — these three would tell him Arceus is good, their recruiters would tell him Arceus is bad, and strangers would probably just give him weird looks.

Although it seemed like the three of them had intended this to make him rethink, Joey was stuck in the same place as before: he would follow Mathew into OCEAN so the two of them could finish the Wristlet together.

Expectantly, Joey looked to the cubone. Did he feel the same way?

“You know, Minichino,” Mathew began. There was some tension in his gaze. “I don’t think I want what you’re selling here.”

“Huh?” the minccino seemed confused.

“I told you before that I wasn’t interested in any crazy plans.” Mathew straightened up, looking serious. “You told me not to worry, and now look! You three are trying to put a wedge in my and Joey’s livelihood while everything we have is on the line.” He pointed the blunt end of the Club at Minichino. “You’re acting just like he did!”

This was the first time Joey had seen any of these three panicked. Minichino backed up a little, her bushy tail straightening. Politoed scratched at his crown. Breloom tilted her head forward, looking uneasily at Politoed. Even he could see how unprepared they were for their grip on this conversation to slip.

“Not what we were going for at all!” Politoed exclaimed breathily. “Didn’t bring you out here to ask you to quit.”

“Then what’s all this then?” Mathew insisted. “You brought us out here to tell us about the war, and then how OCEAN might be breaking laws about it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to quit. Just that you have to be aware.”

“Yeah, Politoed’s right!” Minichino said. “It’s still your choice at the end of the day. We’re not gonna take that away from you. All we wanna do is help you out by making sure you’re aware of what’s going on.”

Mathew stepped closer to Minichino. “You’re sure this is all for our sake?”

Minichino was unfazed by the approach. “Totally. Whatever is going on in your corner of the world, the three of us are here for you.”

He squinted. “Even if that means helping me get recruited into OCEAN?”

“Yep! If there’s anything we can do to make your job easier, we’re all ears.” She brushed a paw through one of her gigantic ears. “Well, I’m at least ten percent ears.”

“If you’re only ten percent ears, we’re done for.” Breloom brought her claws up to her nonexistent ears, then gestured to the side of Politoed’s head.

Joey reached up to the side of his head with his free hand and felt around. “I don’t have ears…”

Mathew stood there for a moment, tension wavering. The ear jokes seemed to be enough to make him break away. “Oh, thank God.” He stumbled back, hand on his mask. “You guys are the real deals after all.”

“Of course we are, Math,” Breloom said, her gentle smirk cutting through any remaining awkwardness between the humans and the Solceans. “The Club’s got some power — we’ll figure something out.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. I…I really didn’t want this to be Meowth all over again.”

Minichino gave a snappy nod. “Neither did we!”

Joey was just glad they didn’t have to worry about this anymore. It felt like a weirdly long time since so many of his friends were on the same page.

They were giving him permission to stick to his guns with OCEAN. That’s the best he could ask for from them.

“Been a hard day for all of us, I think,” Politoed remarked, stretching his back. “Met this slurpuff who sold some delicious sweets while we were out in the market. Why don’t we all get some dessert while we figure out the game plan? My treat.”

“Heck yeah!” Minichino pumped her fists, leading the charge out of the church.

“Weren’t you downing a smoothie just an hour ago?” Breloom asked her.

“Hey, Arceus tells us not to be afraid to treat yourself sometimes!”

Joey was happy to follow along. Things were better this way.

Chapter 15: Broken Promise

Chapter 14: Broken Promise

No matter how many times Demurke gazed upon the ocean, she couldn’t help but marvel at it. She had spent a lot of time in Kalmwa’er, but the years had not dulled the appeal of the shimmering waves, extending out into the horizon. She could spend hours committing that image to memory, so wherever it was time to return home, she—

“Erm, Demurke? Are you listening?”

“Ah—! S-Sorry, Mr. Persian…” Demurke said. There she went, drifting off into space again. In a big group, she tended to get away with it, but when it was just her and somebody else, she’d often get caught not listening to a word the other said. It was a bad habit of hers — one of many. I can’t go disrespecting Mr. Persian like that! she chastised herself, resolving to pay more attention.

“It’s alright,” Mr. Persian said warmly, wasting no time in calmly starting over. As he relaxed in his office chair, Demurke spotted him eyeing his office’s window, too. “As I was saying…I do have to wonder how they’re going to react to Minichino’s petition. It’s certainly surprising!”

Demurke couldn’t help but agree. “I hear th-those Geodudes are…kind of bullies. Minichino is really brave for wanting t-to take them on so we can clean Misery C-Cave.”

“I don’t know if she realizes how much she’s helping those humans, doing that.” Mr. Persian shook his head, seeming to reflect. “You know, I’m really proud of her.”

“That’s a s-surprise! You’ve really…warmed u-up to Minichino.”

“I was worried when we first started out, yes. But I’ve seen that underneath all of that spunk is somebody who cares a lot about her friends and the world around her.” He leaned forward and pawed at his face. “Considering her circumstances, she’s doing better than I would, in spite of all of the pressure OCEAN is putting on her.”

“O-Oh. Yeah…” Demurke brought a wing up and played with the tip of her hat. “With wh-what happened to…her mom and dad, a-and all…”

Mr. Persian’s expression changed, and his composure tightened. “Demurke?”

“S-Sorry!” Demurke slammed her wing back onto the armrest. “I-I’m fine.” She hated when she made Mr. Persian worry about her like that. She was getting all worked up over…nothing. What am I doing?! Get it together, Demurke…!

Mr. Persian just sat there for a second, before backing down and relaxing again. “In any case, why don’t we talk about plans for the weekend?” The change in subject was welcome, so Demurke didn’t object. “I’m still waiting on that Every Star a Catcher DVD, but in the meantime, I think I’m going to run some older shows again while I deal with the never-ending paperwork stack, haha.” There wasn’t a lot of power in that laugh. “Are you going to stay here for the weekend? You can watch with me while I work.”

“Aww, I w-wish I could, Mr. Persian…” she said. “But I p-probably should go back to in Fascamile this weekend. If I s-stay too many weekends in a row, I…”

Upon hearing that, Mr. Persian’s became sullen. “Alright. I understand.”

Just as seeing him concerned, seeing Mr. Persian in despair broke Demurke’s heart. “I’m really sorry. I-I really wish I could let you c-come with me, so I could show you m-my room…and the rest of Fascamile, and—”

“No, no.” Mr. Persian raised a paw. “I wish I could, too. But I’ve gone this long with only six floors to work with.”

As Demurke left the office, that remark lingered in her head. Only six floors… It sounded so—

No, no. She couldn’t afford to linger on that. It was just how things were. As far as she knew, it was how things always were.

---

Demurke wasn’t very good at passing the time. To her left and right were two dense books - to her left, To Rule with Wrath, to Rule with Peace, by Polimagus, and to her right, The Art of War, by Sun Tzu. Both books she was supposed to be reading, and in neither had she been able to push the bookmarks any further along than they had been weeks ago. None of the other books along her dust-coated shelves were able to catch her eye, either. Many of them she had already read several times over.

There were very few other ways she could entertain herself. Everyone else in Town Hall was always hard at work, and she had learned a long time ago that Fascamile itself didn’t have much to offer. So, she had gotten into the habit of simply laying back and watching the hours tick by. I’m supposed to be a productive, contributing person! I can’t always be lounging around like this! she would often remind herself, but it didn’t change much.

Demurke really wished she stayed and watched those DVDs.

Eventually the monotony was broken by a visitor: a familiar brown-furred yungoos, pushing open the door while carefully avoiding turning the lock with his claws. Demurke was eager for the company. “Oh! Hi Y-Yungoos! How…are you?”

“I’m fine,” Yungoos said so curtly that it made Demurke realize he wasn’t here for conversation. “Your dad wants you to come to his office. He seemed pretty eager, so I’d hurry.” And just as quickly as he arrived, Yungoos left.

Demurke stretched against her nest, hopped up, and made for her father’s office. It was a trip she had made many, many times, so it went by in the blur. The next time she was really thinking, she was already before the blue-toned pidgeot’s desk.

“Demoike!” he exclaimed, talons almost leaping off the bar. It wasn’t an intentional bungling of her name — he had picked up a rather thick accent over the years. “How’s your books going?”

“They’re g-good, Dad.” She had long since learned that any other answer would lead to a very tense interrogation from him. There was a pang of guilt in not voicing that she found her reread of them rather boring, but she swallowed it down.

Dit was approving of the response. “Dat Polimagus and dat…Son Soo. With how many times you’ve read dose, you’re bound to learn a thing or two.”

The guilt re-surged, and Demurke swallowed it again. “Anyways, w-what did you…need me for, Dad?”

Dit flipped back to grab a sealed envelope from below and drop it onto the desk. “I need a guy to deliver dis baby.” He slid it toward Demurke.

Demurke picked it up and studied it. “…What is this f-for?”

“Remember dat mission from the minccino you gave me? We’ve gots to make an…addendum to it. Dis is to let Mr. Persian know.”

Demurke was confused. “An addendum? Wh-what are we—?”

“Demoike,” Dit said sternly. “Mr. Persian can tell you after he gets the letter. Going and asking me’s making that process go less quick.” The pidgeot pulled up a blank sheet of paper, dipped the tip of his wing in a nearby ink vial, and began writing on it. With his free wing, he shooed her off.

“R-right. Sorry.” Gah, how could I forget that? she thought. Dad doesn’t like me wasting his time. I’m gonna make him mad, just standing around… She wasted no time in leaving her father to his work.

Still, it was difficult for her to ignore the oddness of all this. It wasn’t unusual for her dad to have a say in the businesses, but there was usually an important reason for it, like that order to increase security around the Rimek circus after what happened there… But this was just a simple trip to a mystery dungeon. What would her father want to change about Minichino’s idea?

As Demurke made her way through the halls, the curiosity ate her up more and more. Eventually, it reached a point where a question sprung to mind: Would it be a good idea to check what’s in the letter first before giving it to Mr. Persian?

I have to respect privacy, she thought on reflex, but something else occurred to her. If she was expected to helm the Fascamile Town Council, she needed to learn how to responsibly handle delivering information, right? If she saw what this addendum was supposed to be first, she would know how to best share it with Mr. Persian. Besides, if anybody would be okay with receiving a envelope that had already been opened by her, it would be Mr. Persian.

That settled it. Demurke waited until the hall she was in was clear of passerby and then used her wing to carefully unseal the envelope. She unfolded the sheet of paper tucked inside.

OFFICIAL ORDER OF THE ORGANIZED COMMITTEE FOR THE ERASURE OF ARCEUS’ NEGLIGENCE

Proposition for the Isolation and Confrontation of Problematic Individuals

Wh…what…?

To be carried out by: Dit Squad 6; Jermy Shock; Demurke, Murkrow IV of Fascamile

No…

Targets: Meowth II of Kalmwa’er; Minichino I of Scolton; Politoed XXII of Mithlline; Breloom IV of Mithlline

This has to be a mistake. Demurke’s eyes stared wide as she scanned over the details of the plan, stunned by what she was reading. The army and business divisions wouldn’t do this, not so soon after the Club was founded. They couldn’t. When they started out, it was agreed—

Acknowledgement: Previous agreements identified Meowth II of Kalmwa’er and Minichino I of Scolton as protected individuals in spite of their threat levels. However, the terms of this protection were breached by recent actions taken by the two that caused them to obtain compromised information. They can no longer be deemed trustworthy. For the purpose of protecting the best interests of the organization, this component of the agreement is now rendered void. We thank you for your compliance.

—Military and Business Division Management Team

Oh.

It was a good thing she opened the letter before delivering it. She was left standing there, too stunned by every new word to say anything aloud. Continuing the trudge to Mr. Persian’s office with her father’s revisions was like wading through wet cement. Already her headspace was being jabbed with horrible visions of Mr. Persian’s reaction.

A part of her wanted to stop right there and cry. This was awful. But… This was supposed to be normal. They had had to confront a lot of people over the years - it wasn’t a big deal. Why was she feeling this way now?

I have to be an adult and suck it up.

Everything OCEAN was hoping to achieve could be on the line if they didn’t take any action. It had to be done. It had to be done. It just had to…

Demurke made her way back through the portal and towards the elevator. She gave her everything into maintaining her composure, making her back as straight as a sudowoodo. But when the elevator opened up to let her in, it was hard to stay that way.

Behind the luster of the door was a dark interior. The light was flickering, making the brightness of the car flicker with it. The lack of light in the car intimidated her, but she pushed through anyway. She was a dark type. She could handle it.

Once the doors shut, Demurke’s world became much darker. She’d been in this car more times than she could count, but even still, standing alone in this big, empty space was discomforting. It was much easier when she had somebody coming along, like Jermy or—

RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE

Demurke screamed, falling on her rear as the elevator car shook and shook. The envelope fell out of her wings, but she hardly cared. The car was falling, it was falling and now it was her turn to—

“Gaaahahahaha!”

The car stopped shaking and settled as a cackle erupted above Demurke. The murkrow panted, the panic slowly subsiding for confusion and irritation.

A body phased through the ceiling of the elevator and landed down on the floor in front of her. The dark purple pokémon’s bright red eyes, similar to her own, stared her down through the dark. He was still laughing. “Oh, the look on your face… Sorry, Demurke, but I just had to.”

“Genji…” Demurke stumbled to her feet, clutching the envelope tightly in her wing. She opened her mouth to — No, Demurke. I can’t be raising my voice against every little thing… “What a-are you doing here? Why aren’t you at…Emmons Labs?” she inquired, stifling her protests at the mean joke.

“Maintenance,” the gengar answered. “Apparently one of the new recruits short-circuited her electricity while she was in the elevator, and the old owl wanted me to come make sure it wasn’t gonna collapse on us or anything.”

“W-Well… Will it?”

Genji looked at her, annoyed. “Come on, you think I’d let you get on the elevator if it was dangerous? Of course it’s safe. Barely even has any dents in it, no thanks to the other guy whacking that thing against all the walls trying to calm her down…” he grumbled. The two of them were quiet for a moment, but clearly irritated by the silence, he continued, planting himself against the wall. “You know, messing with you did wonders for curing my boredom. Maintenance on this thing is really something else.”

Demurke looked up at the ceiling. “Is the…work boring, o-or…?”

“Nah, not boring, just tedious,” Genji said. “It’s clearly an Earth-style elevator. Not pushed by wind, or the mind, or ghostly essence, but by a set of powerful pulleys only magic-less humans could need to design.” The gengar paced around the elevator in front of her. “So difficult to work with, but useful all the same… I find their ability to take advantage of the mundane fascinating. Don’t you agree, Demurke?”

Demurke stalled for a moment. Truthfully, she knew much less about Earth than Genji seemed to. She had only ever heard stories about the dangerous climate but great technology the world offered, but she had never been there herself. A lot of them were from Jermy, too, so they were definitely out of date. “I-I don’t know…” she said.

Genji rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised.”

“What’s…that supposed to m-mean?”

“Well, you just happen to say that a lot. About a lot of things.” Genji squinted at her. “You’d think after ten years of us all working together, you would have more to say. Or are you just gonna keep delivering your parents’ messages around without an extra word?” He pointed to the envelope still in her wing.

Demurke flinched back at the accusation. It was distressing, but she knew it was impossible to refute. “…S-Sorry.”

As the elevator reached the ground floor, Genji just shook his head. “Whatever. You can go on ahead. I’ve got more work to do here.” The doors opened, pouring light into the dark elevator car, and he remarked, “Thanks for the entertainment, at least.”

Wordlessly, Demurke drifted out of the elevator. She could still feel Genji’s eyes on her back while the doors shut. He had always been one of the smarter workers in Fascamile’s Town Council, before OCEAN started. But why did he have to be so…?

Click. Without a second thought, Demurke locked the door in the Fitness Room and put the key back on her tail’s band. She kept walking, and walking, and walking…and then she paused.

Why did she get off on ground floor?

Demurke, Demurke, Demurke! Mr. Persian’s office was a short walk from the elevator on the sixth floor. She knew that! She’d been coming here for years! How could she make such a stupid…

Demurke had been able to calm herself before getting on that elevator, but Genji’s prank had really messed her up. She almost whirled right around so she could get back on, but at this point, the murkrow could see her wings trembling, carrying the envelope. To be a good leader, I have to be strong. I can’t go to Mr. Persian like this!

Well, now that she was on the ground floor of the resort…there was somewhere she could go before making for Mr. Persian’s office. A place that tended to help with this sort of thing. Demurke made for the big door at the back of the resort and pushed through.

The Kalmwa’er Resort pool was of fairly impressive size for what little recreation it got. To her right was an open-air traditional pool area; to her left, a loop of a lazy river. Mr. Persian had made sure, to the best of his ability, that the pool area could accommodate most everyone — the pool was as deep as an arbok was tall, and the lazy river was as wide as a dragonair. It was no Waregle pool, but it didn’t need to be.

Flotation devices of all sorts were available on demand for pokémon her size. Demurke, however, had long since discarded the need for floats, able to swim on her own just fine. As she set the envelope down on an unoccupied table, she recalled hearing that birds on Earth were incapable of swimming at all. What a tragedy that was — her heart broke for them.

For a Saturday afternoon, the crowd seemed to be quite tame, and most people had elected to spend their time in a proper pool over a lazy river. That made it perfect for Demurke. After wading into the water, pushing out, and turning onto her back, she would go undisturbed.

This was where she came to every once in a while, when tensions ran so high that she couldn’t even think straight anymore. It left her in a blissful, tranquil state where she had no reason to think about any of her ailments. The coursing water made her bob as it gently funneled her around this endless, repeating path. Each time she was here, Demurke would stay in it for so long that she would forget how many times she had been around, all of the past loops washed away by the passing of time.

As she laid there, a few memories came to the surface of her mind. She was drawn to a conversation she had had with Jermy a few years ago, when she was thirteen. Something…very important had happened recently, and she was checking in with him to see if he was okay. Demurke didn’t remember a lot of the actual words exchanged, but she did remember what he first showed her.

“I call it the Observational Recreation Buddy!” Jermy had presented to her an unfinished robot, along with a sketch of what it’d look like when it was done. “It’s gonna be a super smart computer AI with a wit that can’t be beat.”

“W-Wow, Jermy!” Demurke had exclaimed. “That’s…really nice. And working on it so soon after…” The rest of the sentence was muddy in her head.

Jermy’s expression had sunken then. “Yeah. But hey, the world isn’t gonna stop for me.” His expression had perked up again. “That’s why I’ve gotta keep working, no matter what!”

Right. Whenever she got like this, she had to remember that. Just as the river does, her life was going to continue moving, always, to the same end. All she had to do was coast. Coast, and let things fall the way they were supposed to fall… She just had to deliver the letter to—

Meowth’s glare cut into her like a dagger. “Do you even realize you’re sitting where my father’s supposed to be right now?”

Demurke gasped, and suddenly she was floundering. With wing flaps, she fought for a stability that never came, desperately trying to keep herself from sinking. The best she could do was push her way to the wall, return to the stairs, and climb out.

That old memory… Demurke turned to stare at the lazy river, adjusting her hat misshapen by the water. Droplets fell from her wings — they would continue to drip away for some time, lingering on the tips of their dyed interiors. I can’t be letting random thoughts like that mess with me! It’s so…silly.

At least her wings no longer trembled when she picked the envelope back up, shooing away a janitor who was close to tossing it. This was about the calmest she was going to get here. She was ready, now.

Soon, almost faster than she could process, she found herself at the door to Mr. Persian’s office. She could hear some noise on the other side. When she pushed it open, it quickly became clear what it was — a movie the Murkrow didn’t recognize was playing on a TV set up in the corner of the room by the cat’s bed. Her employer’s desk was stacked with even more papers than it usually was, and an empty can of food stood at its corner.

When Mr. Persian’s eyes lifted from the desk and laid on her, his expression brightened quickly. “Demurke!” he exclaimed. “I thought you weren’t coming in this weekend. Did you stop by the pool on the way here? You look soaked.”

“I-I didn’t think I was gonna come back, either…” Demurke admitted.

He sprung from the desk and approached her. “Do you want me to get you a towel? I could—”

“No,” she mumbled, putting the envelope up in his face. “This…this is more important. It’s f-from Dad, about the Misery Cave mission.”

“Ah.” Mr. Persian slowly rescinded, returning to his desk. Demurke removed the letter from the envelope and set it down on his desk. “Let’s see here…”

The next three minutes were deathly silent. Demurke watched his eyes move lower and lower down the page. She slowly gravitated towards the wall, waiting for something to happen. The only sound in the room was that of the movie — some kind of old drama.

“Demurke.”

Demurke almost flinched — his voice was firm, cutting. “Y-Yes?”

“Could you turn off that TV, please?”

She turned her head towards it, eyeing the power button on the side. “Yes, s-sir.” She pressed it, and the screen went blank, overflowing the room in silence. “Is th-there anything el—”

CLANG, went the can, flying straight into the screen, daring to crack it if it had even slightly more force than it did. Mr. Persian sloppily grabbed a stack of post-it notes, prying sheet after sheet, crumpling them up, throwing them across the room. Ink was spilt all over the desk, vial knocked over without a second thought.

“M-Mr. Persian!” Demurke cried. Immediately, she ran around the desk, wrapping a wing around his back.

“They promised me, Demurke!” Mr. Persian screamed. In one swift motion, his claws tore through a stack of pages. “They promised me this wouldn’t happen!!”

“I know!” She wrapped herself around his neck, trying her best to hold him back, keep him from wrecking his desk any further.

“Nine years of this,” he yelled. “Nine years! I do everything they ask, and this is how they treat me?!” Mr. Persian thrashed about in desperation, but she refused to let go.

“I know, I-I know…” There wasn’t anything else she knew to say.

“All I wanted was a chance to see him, and…!” His flailing failed him, and he collapsed, burying his head. “They’re gonna hurt him, Demurke. They’re gonna hurt him, and Minichino, and…!” Mr. Persian’s voice wavered until he broke, blubbering through a storm of tears and anguish.

All Demurke could do was keep holding him, trying to comfort him the best she could. She desperately wished she could change everything — unbreak this promise, unmake the Pick-it Up Club, unsign all the contracts.

But this was just how things were.

Chapter 16: In-advocate Overtime

Chapter 15: In-advocate Overtime

In a normal week, the weekend was supposed to be a light break from Club work and the recruitment process. Unfortunately, given their circumstances, a break was the last thing Jermy knew they needed.

The four of them — himself, Mathew, Joey, and Meowth — were hiking their way through Pawalmtry Forest, each carrying brittle plastic bags they had dug out of the corners of Meowth’s condo. Jermy hadn’t been interested in paying the mystery dungeon surrounding Kalmwa’er a visit on their off-days, but Mathew and Joey had insisted on it.

According to them, in addition to this new hike to Misery Cave they were arranging, Minichino had given them the idea to do some off-the-clock work over the weekend. Somebody with a camera, like ORB, could record it, so they could show it to David and Dit. It seemed a bit excessive to Jermy, but he supposed the excessiveness was the point.

The pikachu couldn’t help but be a bit curious about the whole matter. He had no idea when, where, or why the Club members had crafted this new plan — he’d just been told it had happened. Jermy didn’t even know if his bosses had approved of it.

On top of his confusion there, Jermy still needed to keep an eye on Meowth. To tell the truth, he had no idea why he had come with the three of them. They hadn’t really asked him to join. Didn’t he dislike cleaning?

In any case, the lot of them were here, and already Jermy was quite tired. “Go…on…without me,” he mumbled, throwing himself into the side of the steep hill they were trying to climb up in their search for more trash.

“Wow, tiring out already?” ORB asked, effortlessly rolling his way up the incline.

“Easy for you to say,” he said, lifting his head out of the dirt. “You have wheels! Would you be so cocky if I knocked you over?”

“And you would?”

“…Faaaaaaaaaaaaaair point.” Jermy climbed to his feet and pressed on.

Mathew, Joey, and Meowth were waiting on him at the wide, oval-shaped summit of the hill. Up there was a whole assortment of litter and waste dotting the space around the trees and brush they would inevitably have to navigate around to clean the place.

“Hah… If only these mystery dungeons could magically put all this in a nice little pile when they shift, working overtime would be easier than a balk in a breezeway…” Joey muttered.

“If you let the dungeon shuffle at least three million, two hundred forty five thousand, nine hundred eighty two times, maybe you’ll be able to get that pile,” ORB said. “Not that it would stop any of you from complaining about having to climb that, too.”

“Well, on the bright side, we already know how to make this a lot less boring…” Mathew looked to him. “Jermy?”

“Huh? Oh, right!” Jermy had almost forgotten their strategy in Asulaguah Beach.

“That seems like a bad idea,” Meowth remarked, leaning against the side of a tree with a paw.

“Hey, it made work a hell of a lot better on the clock,” Mathew snapped back. “Why not off the clock, too?”

Meowth’s body language quickly shifted, pushing off of the tree and becoming more defensive. “Fair enough,” he said, not retaliating against Mathew at all.

Jermy wordlessly got ahead of the group, towards the center of the hill. ORB was just behind him. “This time, let’s not charge up the Round too much,” he advised.

“You should pick a shorter song then,” ORB remarked.

“Right…” After having to keep up with a classical song for five passes, Jermy was more than willing to go with something easier, that didn’t require a backing track. “Let’s do this…” The pikachu backed up, then gathered the energy. “Ooooooooooooooooooooh who lives in a pineapple under the sea?” As Jermy passed it off to ORB, he caught Mathew staring at him, his expression a mix of stunned and confused.

Luckily, ORB didn’t need any commands to recognize this. “Sponge-bob…” He passed it back.

“...Square-pants!” He cried, spinning and smacking the ball of musical energy into the ground with his tail. A smaller, much more controlled shockwave burst from it, kicking up a lot of dirt and a lot of plastic waste straight into the air.

“Yeeeeehhhaaaaa…awww.” Joey’s hype quickly died as the four of them realized how much of a mistake retrying this game in Pawalmtry Forest was. Much of the trash had been launched from its safe placement on the ground right into the trees, catching on branches and leaves — not very conductive to catching. “I reckon we should’ve thought this out a little more,” he said.

Meowth, still standing away from the rest of them, remarked, “I tried to warn you.”

“Oh, piss off,” Mathew said. “Saying ‘this is a bad idea’ and not elaborating is hardly a warning!”

“...Yes it is?” Meowth seemed confused.

“Oh, fuck you,” he mumbled, out of earshot for Meowth but definitely in earshot for him and Joey. Jermy could only sigh — this feud between them had hardly improved over the past few days. He wished he could make it stop, but it’s not like he could magically repair a relationship…

“Y’all, is it really necessary to yap at each other over… Uh, Mathew?” Joey now seemed less concerned by Mathew’s comment and more concerned by Mathew’s actions; the cubone had approached a tree and hugged himself around it. “What in tarnation are you doing?”

“Knocking the trash down. What else would I be doing?” Mathew answered. Slowly, carefully, and with great effort, he began to scale the tall trunk.

Joey scrunched his maw at that. “I reckon I should do that. Between the two of us, I’m pretty sure I’m still the better—”

“I insist!” Mathew said firmly. He settled one foot onto a branch, and then the other. “I’m the one who brought up the game and started this. I need to be the responsible man and fix it myself.” He threw himself down, wrapping his arms around the branch.

Jermy began to panic. That branch hardly seemed like it could hold Mathew. “Hey, you don’t have to do it so riskily!” he told him, approaching Mathew from below but carefully avoiding the space directly beneath him, in case he fell. “I know a bunch of these things called ‘circus maneuvers’ for problems just like this! I could launch you up and—“

“You and Demurke already helped last time!” Mathew exclaimed. He shimmied himself along, making his way towards a dangling plastic bag. With every movement he made, Jermy could see the branch wobble more and more. “Now it is my turn. It is my turn, and I am going to—aaaah!”

SNAP.

Mathew, as well as the low-hanging branch his weight just broke, tumbled to the ground. Jermy barely had time to leap away before the crushing weight dropped on top of him. Mathew smacked against the thin wood on his way to the grass. The cubone squeaked in pain, sliding off of it and clutching his chest.

“Mathew!” Jermy exclaimed. He, Joey and Meowth were quick to come to his aid, gathering around him.

“Scans show no signs of major breakage,” ORB remarked. “He’ll be fine.” A collective sigh of relief flowed out from all of them.

“Well…” Mathew looked up at them all. “Guess I was barking up the wrong tree there,” he muttered.

Jermy could only sigh. Mathew was so steadfast in his goal that he was putting himself at risk to get things done. Had the increased pressure from the time limit really motivated him so much?

“Jermy, we gots to talk about your work with da humans,” Dit had said. The pidgeot was failing to give him his full attention, splitting his focus with some kind of letter he was writing between statements.

“What about it?” Jermy had asked. “Sure, maybe the game didn’t go all that well, but trust me, they’ve got more than enough things rolled up their sleeves that’ll totally—”

“It’s not about what dere doing,” he had clarified. “It’s about how dere going about it. They want da job, yes, but they’re not buying what we’re selling. Mathews is here for da good life, and da croc…I dunno what he wants.”

“…And?”

“Dere supposed to wanna fight, Jeremy,” Dit had reminded him. “Making ‘em hankering to do that is your job. You gotta stop handling it like one of your little science projects. It’s not just about da status reports and progress markers. It’s about getting them to believe in da cause.”

Jermy had cocked his head. “Is it a crazy big deal if they want to be a part of OCEAN for a reason other than believing in the cause?” he had asked. “I thought priority number one is just to get Mathew on-board with the business enough that he’ll trust us when we tell him…y’know.”

“Is it a crazy big deal if I roll over your foot for saying something so inaccurate?” ORB had chimed in.

“See, youse got some sense, robot,” Dit had remarked. “Jeremy, trust is all about loyalty! Knowing we all gotta be dere for one another… If dey aren’t willing to scratch our feathers, how do we know dey’ll let us scratch dere’s?” The pidgeot clutched the parchment he was working on with his wings and held up the backside towards Jermy. He couldn’t make out any of the words from this angle, and Dit seemed to want to keep it that way for now. “I’m doing what I can tah see if loyalty is here. Meanwhile, you gotta hold up your end of the bargain. If you don’t stick da landing, dis plan is toast.”

As Jermy helped Mathew back up, Dit’s reprimands lingered in the pikachu’s head. Maybe this venture through the forest could be another shot at getting his head in the game? Jermy could only try…

After things calmed down, they quickly made work of the tiny plateau. The litter on the ground was handled by Jermy, Mathew, Meowth, and even ORB, while Joey took on the role of knocking off everything that had caught on the trees. Luckily, the branch Mathew had broken was the worst damage they did to that hill.

The task was going swimmingly…until the sound of shuffling could be heard. A lot of shuffling.

“Do y’all hear that?” Joey was the first to notice, pointing down and away from the hill. Jermy turned and —

“Whuh oh…” At the base of the hill, Jermy’s eyes made contact with a whole mob. A little sea of ratatta, both in purple and black shades, had congregated below them, about twenty strong.

“Get away from here!” one of them cried.

“Those are our scraps!” another exclaimed. Following it was a whole rumble of declarations, some quite threatening in nature.

Mathew looked down upon them all judgingly. He wasn’t having any of this. “What the hell do you even want with this stuff?” he asked, holding the filled plastic bag over his head. “It’s literally trash.”

“Scraps have food scraps in them!” a black-furred rattata said.

“We want our scraps!” a purple-furred rattata demanded.

A chant arose and erupted from them all. “Scraps for scraps! Scraps for scraps! Scraps for scraps!” Then, suddenly, they all burst into a charge up the hill.

Jermy’s ears and tail tensed up in panic. “ORB, how bad is this gonna be?”

“Vital scans indicate collective malnourishment,” ORB informed them. “Conclusion: they are numerous, but very puntable.”

Mathew brandished his bone club. “Then we’ll punt them.”

As Jermy admired how much Mathew’s capability in combat had increased between his training in the Waregle and with the Club, the pikachu realized that an opportunity had been handed to him on a silver platter. He leapt close to the cubone and called, “Stick close!” just as they came upon them.

These were the rats, alright. Gnawing at their legs, headbutting their chests, trying everything to wrest their bags from their grips… The floor was blurred with purple and black. Jermy, grunting with pain as he tried not to let the rattata ground him, had no sight of ORB or Meowth — all he could do was back Mathew up. He fired an electric bolt into the crowd, but they were surprisingly aware and nimble, with only a few getting singed as they leapt out of the way.

That changed when, descending from above, a small spout of water sprayed a purple-furred rattata, causing it to squeal in pain. “Jermy!” Joey cried from above, sitting pretty in the nearby tree. Jermy realized what he had to do — before the rattata had a chance to regain its bearings, the pikachu sent a searing thundershock its way. It cried out before falling over, unconscious.

One down, nineteen or so to go…

Behind him, Mathew was holding back the crowd with just his club alone. “You know you all could just…join society if you want food, right?!” Out of the corner of Jermy’s eye, Mathew smacked a black-furred one right out of the air. “You could get jobs, get your ugly mustaches trimmed…” the cubone gasped in realization as one of them bit down on his club and started pulling at it like a dog pulling a toy from the owner’s hand. “You could go to college and become frat boys!”

“They don’t even know what the word ‘college’ means!” Jermy reminded him as he whirled and lobbed lightning towards the rattata on the club. It passed by the immune Mathew and fried it out of commission.

“Thanks!” Mathew exclaimed, throwing the creature off of his club.

As Jermy sweeped a pair of rattata with an Iron Tail, Dit’s advice once more echoed through his head. It occurred to him that he needed to keep encouraging Mathew. “You know,” he said with a pant, kicking one, “If you could handle this, I bet you could handle any bad boy that gets in OCEAN’s way!”

Jermy expected Mathew to give a glare so snarky that you could just tell he was smirking beneath his mask and reply ‘So you noticed!’ Instead, he was met with a confused look. “Aren’t we out here to not end up in the military fighting—shit!”

In the moment Jermy had distracted him, Mathew had been overtaken by a purple-furred rattata that had leapt onto his chest. The cubone fell back to the ground, his head towards Jermy. The pikachu panicked, but before he could answer, the clever little thing grabbed the nose of the Cubone’s mask with his teeth and pulled it up, using it as a shield. His electric attack bounced off, striking a random rat, but not the one on top of Mathew, now scratching at his shoulder holding the plastic bag full of trash.

Jermy fumed, which wasted just enough of his time for a black-furred rattata to make a searingly painful bite at his tail. He yowled as the pain shot up, hardening his tail with an iron sheen in response, but now a couple of them were trampling him over from the front!

Bite. Scratch. Bite. Copious amounts of pain came upon him, from all sides. Jermy was incapable of launching any attack from this position. He groaned, trying and failing to get them off.

“ORB…H-Help…!” Jermy called. Where was his machine? He heard the sound of his laser firing, but it wasn’t in his direction. Why couldn’t it have been towards him? He needed ORB. He needed him, just as he always—

A gray blur dropped onto a pair of unsuspecting rattata, and with two furious swipes, both of them went down. The fading Jermy watched as Meowth slashed the rat atop Mathew, popped a Reviver Seed into his mouth, and put him on his feet. Then, shortly after, he came to his aid too, freeing him from the dangerous buck teeth and short claws. The soothing juices of an Oran brought Jermy back into the action in no time.

The fight didn’t last very long after that. With Mathew, Jermy, and Meowth all working together, the remaining dungeon pokémon didn’t stand a chance. Eventually, the number of rattata matched the number of them, and that prompted them all to flee.

“We got scraaaaapped…” one whined as they ran back down the hill.

Jermy panted as he watched them go. “That was close…” he carefully stepped over one of many beaten, unconscious rats. “Guess they found out how much trouble they could get into.”

“Not a lot,” Meowth remarked, patting his emergency kit. He turned towards Mathew.

Mathew gave him a stern glare, then peeled his eyes away. “How did you even get to us, anyway? There had to have been at least four of those things in the way.”

“I helped shoot down the ones around Meowth like a big ol’ turret!” As Joey shimmied down the tree, he eyed Mathew and added, “I reckoned he could use it more, since he was alone.”

“Well…” A beat. “Thanks.”

There was a stillness in the air now, much unlike the chaos of moments ago. As Mathew continued facing the direction the remaining three or so went, Joey and Meowth shared a look Jermy couldn’t really get a read on. At this point, the pikachu was lingering on another thought.

He had been trying to encourage Mathew earlier, bolstering his ability to believe in the cause OCEAN was giving him…but the results had been catastrophic. If he had just not said anything, Mathew wouldn’t have been distracted, and Meowth wouldn’t have had to waste one of his kit’s reviver seeds.

As they all quietly got back to work, going around their fallen enemies to clean up the hill, Jermy could not get past that fact. So much so that he could hardly think about their work.

“You missed this one,” ORB said, using his claw to point at a piece of sheet plastic coated in a gross-looking substance.

“Oh, thanks.” Jermy held it by the edge and stuffed it in the bag before walking forward.

“And the one on the bush,” ORB pointed out.

“Oh.” The pikachu fumbled as he pulled a tiny fragment of cardboard from the bush.

ORB continued to trail him, as always. “I’m detecting incredibly high levels of tilt from you, Jermy.”

Jermy grumbled, “Well, maybe I am tilted.”

“You should go stomp it off,” ORB ordered. “The others will notice you getting so distracted.”

“Fair enough…” Jermy sighed, before turning and calling out, “Hey, guys, I’ll be right back! Gonna skedaddle out on my own and see if I can find more trash.”

“Oh, really?” Mathew seemed a little surprised. “Alright. Just don’t get your ass kicked while you’re out there, I guess.”

“Thanks! I don’t plan on going too far, don’t worry…”

A dozen paces down the hill later and Jermy was alone with a revelation he had been ignoring for some time: he wasn’t cut out for this recruitment job. At all. He could sell people on a project just like that, but a mission, cause, or belief? He had no idea how to articulate that, or even introduce the concept. The fact greatly frustrated Jermy — all this time he was spending with Mathew and Joey, and he had barely improved.

How had he even ended up at this position, anyway? It wasn’t his specialty or line of work or anything like.

He thought back to the moment this arrangement had formed. He had been rushed through the elevator to the Resort by David and Dit, making a beeline for Mr. Persian before he began his workday. Luckily, they had caught up to him sharing a private chat with Demurke in front of the elevator.

“Is something the matter?” he had asked, looking concernedly at the out-of-breath trio. While Jermy had been the only one to sprint the whole way, using wind to push themselves forwards had, appropriately, taken the wind out of both David and Dit’s sails. Both the cat and Demurke backed up against the wall to give them all space in the cramped staircase.

“We need you to…change…plans,” David got out past his panting. “A human’s been dropped in…Pawalmtry Forest.”

“Two humans,” Dit clarified.

“Oh!” Demurke exclaimed, a mix of excitement and worry. “Y-You want me to help take care of them?” she presumed. “It’s been a wh-while since I’ve d-done that, but…”

The pidgeot nodded. “But dere’s something you gotta know—”

“One of the humans didn’t come through the normal method. Our trackers suggested a portal that doesn’t belong to us cut into Solceus. I can’t say for sure, but…we think it might be Mathew.”

Demurke’s eyes widened, knowing exactly what this meant. “Oh.” She eyed Jermy with a worried glance. Jermy gave one back in return.

“I don’t recognize that name, but if it’s somebody of importance, we will find them,” Mr. Persian said, looking confused but respectful of their worry. “I’ll shorten their hours and have them work in Pawalmtry Forest so Demurke can search.”

It should have ended there, with Demurke setting out alone, rescuing Mathew and Joey, bringing them to David, and monitoring them on her own. But then…

“Wait, wait, dis isn’t right,” Dit muttered. “Mathew’s leaping through one of dose portals, right? Don’t that mean he’s gonna have everything still in his noggin? Memory Printing, or something like that?”

“Theory of Conscious Memory Imprinting, yes…” It took a moment for the decidueye to fully register that. “Oh, you’re right. He probably wouldn’t respond as well to the regular recruitment process, wouldn’t he? Especially considering us having…”

The murkrow’s eyes flicked between Dit and David. “Wh-what would you like me to do, then…?”

“Nothing you gotta do,” Dit responded. “You’re gonna hafta have some backup. A recruiter who’s techy, and could get right on his level.”

David turned his head towards the ceiling while thinking…and then, he looked down upon Jermy. “…What’s with the funky look?” he asked David.

“How much time do we have?” the decidueye asked everyone else.

Mr. Persian grimaced. “I don’t know how long I could stall without looking odd. A few minutes, maybe?”

“Hardly enough time to find anybody else…”

Jermy’s mouth dropped as he realized what David was thinking. “Are you suggesting I should—?!”

“I’ve caught up, you speedsters.” The elevator doors opened to reveal ORB, who had struggled to keep up with the three of them and had fallen behind. “If you don’t want to lose me, maybe you should start carrying me.”

“...Um,” Demurke began. “How d-did you push the buttons with your…?” She gestured to his arcade claw.

“Very carefully.”

David groaned, picked up the robot, and shoved it into Jermy’s hands. “We don’t have time to get anybody else, and you’re familiar with Mathew as much as I am — maybe even more! If they think you’re just a higher-up here to inspect the Club, that just happens to be interested in working there for a time…”

“David, this is a kooky plan,” Jermy said mildly. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You can do this,” he assured him. “I’m confident in that. I’ll even clear up your schedule so you can get this done, if I have to.”

Mr. Persian studied the pikachu. “Erm…welcome to the Club, Jermy?”

And that was that. He’d hardly said any words, and suddenly he had been thrust into being Mathew and Joey’s caretakers with no proper experience or really even knowledge. He could have fought for his position in the science division, saying he was too essential to take on the project of recruiting Mathew. He could have suggested one of the actual recruiters that did dabble in both the army and the technology take them on. He could have given an idea for how to buy time so that somebody with experience could have joined Demurke.

In the end, he had done none of those things. He didn’t have the guts to speak up.

Jermy sat down next to a wilting patch of flowers as he pondered. Maybe that was the reason Jermy had struggled for all these years. He was stuck living beneath the foot, paw, or talon of others, doing their work, completing their tasks, in the distant hope of making Solceus a better place.

But was all this subservience, exhaustion, loss, and stress really worth that reward? Was giving up everything he had once been living for again and again, getting trampled over like these wilting flowers, really what was best?

Jermy peered left and right, making sure nobody was watching…and then, he reached out his hand overtop of the flowers and curled a finger. In an instant, the patch all rose up, bursting and blooming with life.

The pikachu made a resolution then, helping these flowers. He didn’t know what it was going to look like, but from now on, he was not going to let his superiors steamroll him over. He, too, needed to straighten his stem and take in the sunlight he had been missing. He would cut his own path and do things his own way, however that emerged. Even though he hadn’t acted on it, even the thought of doing this made the pikachu giddy, putting a spring in his step as he walked through the forest.

“...ermy…J-Jermy!”

He stopped in his tracks. Was that…Demurke’s voice? Jermy sprinted back towards the others, and sure enough, there the murkrow was, conversing with Mathew, Joey, Meowth, and ORB. “Demurke? What are you doing here?” Jermy asked.

“I-I could say the same to…y-you guys!” she retorted. “But th-that’s not a big d-deal. One of Mr. Persian’s bosses needs to see you. It’s about s-something…really important.” When she said that, she glared at Meowth for a long moment.

The cat could only shrug. “Fine. I’ll go back to the condo. You guys have your meeting.”

As Demurke led them back to town, Jermy could only wonder what would prompt OCEAN to bring them in so suddenly…

Chapter 17: Begrudging Compliance

Chapter 16: Begrudging Compliance

“Y’all want us to what?!”

Joey couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he and Mathew had been asked to drop by Dit’s office in Fascamile again for some information about their upcoming trip to Misery Cave, he had presumed that the pidgeon was going to give them pointers. Maybe some advice on how to fight in a dank, dark cave, or how to deal with the geodudes lurking inside the cavern. What the totodile wasn’t expecting was an order — especially not one this intense.

“It’ll be an easy job for youse,” Dit said, casually slouched back, letting his grip on the bar he seemed almost glued to keep him from falling. “That Meowth’s diggin’ himself in some hot wattah — but not hot enough that we gotta bring in da big guns. We just need to rough ‘em up and tell ‘em to back off, and I’d like tah bet that the both of youse are ready to do it.”

Shocked into silence, Joey looked towards his companions, desperate to see their own opinions. Demurke had been quiet since she had helped lead them to the office with David, who was waiting outside, so he could hardly get a read on her. Jermy… Joey couldn’t really figure out what he was thinking. He seemed positive as ever, but something about it just felt forced to the totodile. And Mathew—

“How could we fight Meowth in the middle of work and not get our asses handed to us?” Joey was disconcerted by the fact that Mathew’s question was not accusational, but inquisitive.

Dit wasted no time with his explanation. “I’ve got ya covered. We got one of our teams to take a look-see at this dungeon you’re tryna crawl through. There’s a big split down da middle, leads you far down the cave on different ends. Demoike will lead everyone who don’t gotta be involved to one side, while Jeremy will lead youse and Meowth the otha way to do the deed. Do it right, and he won’t say a peep to ‘em, and it’ll be like it never happened.”

Joey wasn’t really sure how to answer to such a mission. Meowth had made some mistakes and dug his hand too deep into all this OCEAN stuff, sure, but did that warrant assaulting him into compliance? Maybe if he could make them dial things back into confronting him verbally…

“Are y’all sure they won’t think that it’s weird we’re splitting up?” he pointed out. Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom were pretty smart — Joey couldn’t imagine them letting Meowth get physically hurt like that, even if they weren’t super friendly to him.

“…O-Only if we make it w-weird.” That was the first time Demurke had spoken up — and it, too, was in support.

“The bird is right,” ORB said, settled on the floor next to Jermy and Demurke’s chairs. “Due to the abundance of waste in all regions of the dungeon, there is a good reason to warrant splitting up. They might not listen to this dingus if he randomly said to divide and conquer—“ he whacked Jermy with his claw. “But they would probably trust a robot’s intuition.”

“And the cave?” Joey kept pressing. “I reckon a cave makes sound echo more than a mountain goat on a mountaintop.”

“Don’t worry about your gogoats or whosever — we already got one,” Dit remarked, trying to sound cheeky. “Like I said, it’s a big, big cave. They won’t hear da scuffle, and if they do, they might write it off as all those geodudes you’re supposed tah be fighting.” He straightened up and tucked his wings at his sides. “Trust me. I’ve been in da business long enough to know what works. If you do it right, it’ll work. Youse wanna make your employments happen? This is da way to do it.”

So that was it, then. They were all totally, definitely doing this. Mathew, Joey, and Jermy were going to lure Meowth into a secluded part of this cave and…beat him up, then threaten him to make him stop messing with OCEAN. It made Joey feel…weird. The totodile fidgeted with his tail, tucked between his legs as he sat. He knew he needed to support Mathew and get them into the organization, but this was serious.

But what could he say about all this? Without his memories, his grounding to the knowledge he’s retained, he doesn’t exactly have many argumentative points to stand on, other than that gut feeling of ‘it’s wrong’. Still, he was in a whole different world, and the way things worked seemed to be different, too. Nobody else seemed to think this was weird, or cruel. Maybe his gut here was just—

“You know what? This is a really stupid plan.”

It was as if Jermy had dropped a bomb into Dit’s office. Everyone’s gazes were on him in an instant — Dit’s annoyed, Mathew’s confused, Demurke’s terrified.

“Excuse me?” Dit remarked, sounding offended.

“Jermy, you need to pick your next words very carefully,” ORB advised.

“Thanks, I hear you,” Jermy said dismissively, lifting up from his chair with some force. “Forget the logistics for a moment — they are incredibly flawed, but forget them. Why are we putting Mathew and Joey up to this job, exactly?!” Jermy asked aggressively. “They just got here, while Meowth’s a graduate. Even if he’s outnumbered three to one, that doesn’t mean he’d outmatch us! What if he won, and left the cave not scared enough to be silenced? We’d be toast!”

Joey looked at the pikachu in awe. Yeah… Yeah, he was right. Neither Mathew nor Joey could beat any of the Club if they were truly fighting for their lives. They only made it this far with the help of the entire Club, including Meowth!

Dit didn’t seem so receptive. “Are you suggestin’ that I don’t give this mission to da newbies? Because that means they won’t be helping, and I don’t like workers who don’t help around da place.” Joey could clearly see the implication there.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t give them a mission of some kind!” Jermy retaliated. “But this one is so asinine and risky, I’d hardly give it to you, much less anybody lower than—“

In a flash, the door to Dit’s office swung open. The decidueye outside had clearly been listening. “Jermy, that’s enough!” David briskly approached the pikachu.

“I’m not done here!” Jermy exclaimed.

“Yes, we are.” With his large digits, David easily picked him up.

“Hey! Rrrgh! Put me down right now, David!” Jermy’s protests became quieter as David walked out of the office with him in tow. ORB silently trailed them, nudging the door so it would close behind them.

A wave of silence flooded the room. Joey, Mathew, Demurke, and Dit were all submerged in a tense feeling, each at their own depths. Joey tightened his maw — he didn’t want to waste his breath.

“Sorry about dat.” Dit was the first to break the silence. “The humans we have around here…dey don’t always get how we do things here on Solceus. We can get our wings dirtier than ‘em.” The pidgeot loosened up. “Anywho, are dere any other objections we need to flatten out?”

Joey answered simply. “…No.”

To his side, the cubone shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know what the hell’s gotten into Jermy,” Mathew said. “Personally, I’m down for this.”

“Oh?” Dit seemed interested to hear his reasoning.

“I mean, Meowth’s an asshole to everyone, even to people who are nice to him. Somebody needs to go and straighten him out. Someone who fucks with their own patients is someone who deserves his legs broken.”

Dit seemed to take interest in the remark. “Breaking da legs, eh? You’d hafta do some careful framing to do that and get away with it. Geodudes got big fists though, so if you took that club and whacked ‘em with enough force...”

“Yeah, right,” Mathew leaned back, looking more relaxed. “How hard would I have to swing for that?”

“Harder than ya would on Earth, dat’s for sure, but it’s doable. If you really wanna give Meowth something to think about, breaking a bone might be da best you could do, short of killing him. Not that we can…”

Mathew nodded along. “Oran Berries wouldn’t heal that, wouldn’t they?”

“Dey only seal up fur, skin, and scales, and bones are none of the above.”

Every single word out of the two’s mouths sunk a pit deeper into Joey’s chest. He had been acquaintances with Meowth, trying to work together to get what both wanted. Heck, Joey really wanted to call him a friend, too. But helping Mathew and OCEAN was the only shot he had at getting his memories. With the Wormhole Wristlet left to finish, he had to stay by Mathew’s side and help him get what he wanted.

He took a deep breath. He hated this, but he had to do it. So, he said nothing at all.

“Though, I think you could do a lot bettah than that,” Dit continued. The pidgeot fell back and fiddled with something beneath him. “I got a gadget just for this occasion that could mess up Meowth in a whole ‘notha way. Now dat you’re all in…” When he rose, there was something spinning on the tip of his right wing. It slowed, and slowed, and…

“Holy shit,” Mathew muttered. Dit placed it down on the desk and slid it towards the cubone. There, in front of them, was a professionally-made gun, but it lacked any chamber to store bullets. When Mathew picked it up, Joey could tell how lightweight the gun was. “This fires poisonous fumes, doesn’t it?”

“Dat’s right,” Dit said. “I figured the gun’d help you, especially if you made ‘em do something like bargain his silence for a Pecha before he snuffs out. I got a team over in da science division to redo it with bettah stuff, but the type stone is the same one ya picked out.”

“That’s amazing!” Mathew said, fiddling with the weapon in his hands while avoiding the trigger for now. “I bet I could hide this in the Club satchel.”

“And with the rest of dat Club gearing you up, youse should be more than ready to kick some tail. Or, at least a tail that curls at the end,” he said jokingly, waving a wing.

Eagerly, Mathew looked to Joey. “This is perfect, Joey! The Wormhole Wristlet, overclocking it in the Club, and this? We’re going to have a hell of a resume.”

“Uh, yeah,” Joey said. He truly hoped Mathew was right.

---

“Hey! Rrrgh! Put me down right now, David!”

David wasted no time in carrying Jermy straight out of Dit’s office. As soon as he did, Jermy sprung from his grip and leapt to the floor. When he turned around, he was quickly reminded of his own tiny size — David looked over him, an enraged expression on his face.

“Are you trying to sabotage us, Jermy?!” he exclaimed after the door shut behind them. “Dit just handed us the key to getting Mathew and Joey in!”

Maybe that was true, but Jermy was tired of pretending to be invested in this. “I don’t really care about the recruitment at this point. Do you not see what we’re doing, David? Making big threats, putting our members in situations way out of their league, recruiting way more than we should in the first place… This is exactly what happened last time!”

David buried his face in his wings, letting out a heave, and then brought his wings down firmly. “Jermy, you’re forgetting another part of ‘what happened last time’.”

“I’m forgetting?” Jermy had lived through the whole ordeal. What could Jermy have possibly forgotten about it?

“‘Last time’, two of our own betrayed us and tried to destroy everything we’ve been working for,” David reminded him. “If we want to stand even a chance at toppling a god, we have to have unity. Getting at each other’s throats is our free ticket to losing that.”

“I don’t want to repeat the past,” Jermy argued. “I don’t want to abandon OCEAN, and I don’t want to abandon my apprenticeship with you. But I’m tired of sitting here and twiddling my mousey thumbs, acting like everything is okay. If we don’t clean up our act, we’re not even gonna make it to Arceus!”

“Jermy, please.” At that, Jermy witnessed something that the decidueye showed only on the worst of occasions. Out of the grass-type, electricity surged, forming into a ball in David’s hands, ready to be fired from him with the might of a cannon. Though he knew David was merely demonstrating and wouldn’t actually lob it, it was hard to disregard a charge so intense that it could birth a thunderstorm. “Don’t forget what we all trusted each other with. We can’t afford to lose any more of us. Not after Jane, and especially not after General Goodman.”

Jermy stalled for a moment. Anger boiled within him, but David was right — he was needed here, badly. If he pushed any further, OCEAN was going to crack and split once more, and that was the last thing anybody needed. He looked to ORB, standing at the side, seeking his perspective.

“I’ve calculated the odds,” ORB said. “This is a fight you can’t win, Jermy.”

Jermy sighed. “Fine. I’ll go along with this.” Right as David’s electricity dissipated, his spunk came back to him. “But!”

He paused for a second, wondering if he should do this…then promptly decided it was worth it. Jermy tapped into something deep within himself, a gift that he had let remain dormant for much of his time wielding it. After a second, he brought it forth, and summoned grass-type energy — energy so immense Jermy knew he could make a flowerbed bloom in a matter of seconds. If he unleashed it, a flare of energy would burst forth, wrecking everything in its path.

He never liked demonstrating that he possessed it, but, after spending so long as a meek little pikachu, he could feel an overwhelming sense of power. “Don’t forget that you’re not the only one who can show off like that.”

David gasped at the display…but something in his demeanor changed. Rather than hem and haw about Jermy’s divisiveness, he closed his eyes, brought a wing-hand to his beak, and hummed. “Fair enough, Jermy. Fair enough.”

Chapter 18: Journey into Misery

Chapter 17: Journey into Misery

For the past weekend, Meowth had been chewing on two things. First, his morning bread; second, the number of discomforting discoveries he had been making recently.

At first, he had been fully on-board with interrogating and investigating his way to the answers he wanted. Mr. Persian, in approaching him after those years of silence, had opened those floodgates for him. As far as he should be concerned, his pursuits were going very well. Meowth had found that there were secrets to be uncovered in almost everyone he was surrounded by. That was supposed to be a good thing. It meant that he was right!

But Meowth hadn’t anticipated how it would feel to uncover that reality. He had snuck into his father’s office and put his livelihood at stake, all for something he now realized he didn’t understand. It was disconcerting.

Meowth had thought the answer was going to be simple and petty — a motivation he could throw in his father’s face and say “I knew it!” But now he was facing a completely new situation. Humans, threat levels, contracts of familial uninvolvement… The nature of Mr. Persian’s superiors still completely eluded him. He still wasn’t even sure where he fit into this picture, much less Minichino, Politoed, or Breloom.

To be frank, all of it had planted a seed of doubt in Meowth’s mind. Should he really be doing this? There was so much more on the line now. This company, SEAS, was clearly more dangerous than he had initially realized. His father had signed something to push him away, but how safe would that really keep him if he took the offensive?

All this had been a driving reason he had been keeping a low profile over the weekend. The most he had done in the wake of this mysterious Misery Cave expedition was try poking at the prospect of bettering his relationship with Mathew.

As Mathew, Joey, and Jermy were talking strategy in the living room and he was standing in the kitchen, Meowth was fairly sure he was going to stay in that position…that was, until he decided to check the mailbox in his front yard to see if there were any deliveries he had missed yesterday. There was some useless junk that had arrived the previous Sunday, as well as some notes regarding his condo’s expenses, but only one had grabbed his attention.

It was addressed from Kalmwa’er Resort.

Instantly, Meowth tore the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside.

Dear Meowth II of Kalmwa’er,

To kick off the fourth week of its operation, the Management Staff of the Pick-it Up Club would like to formally acknowledge and appreciate the Club’s hardest and strongest workers. We are pleased to remind you that you are an exceptional component to the Club’s survival and success!

…Huh? Meowth was already taken aback by this strange letter from…the management staff? That was just his father, wasn’t it? The only other people who fit that bill were Minichino and Demurke, and neither of them would send a letter calling him exceptional. They all knew how little he cared about the work they did here. Curious, he read on.

As part of this acknowledgement, the Management Staff is also pleased to provide commentary on its perspective of work-life balance. The Pick-it Up Club values the well-being of both the environment and of the people who live in it. Thus, our workers are encouraged to take the time needed away from the position to rest and recover, so that they can give it their all when they return.

What time off could Club workers possibly need? This was a part time job. They started early in the morning and were done by noon. Sure, there was the occasional fight to be had, but with the supplies of his medical kit, that was nothing to be concerned about. Meowth would hardly call it ‘high-maintenance’ to the point of needing extra time off.

It should be noted that our employment contract ensures that employees are permitted at least one vacation day each month. You are highly encouraged to take advantage of this day before the end of the month! It would make you feel much happier, and allow you to continue working with us.

We thank you for your time and consideration.

With love,

The Management Staff of the Pick-it Up Club

…Oh.

Meowth wasn’t sure if Mr. Persian could have made this message any more obvious than he did in the back end of this semi-formal letter. Just reading it, he could picture that fake grin his father would’ve putting on while saying it allowed.

Don’t come to work today. That’s what he was telling Meowth, loud and clear.

“Meowth!” Jermy had pulled open the front door and called out to him. He must have noticed that he quietly slipped out. “We’re all about ready to go. How about you?”

Meowth turned towards the pikachu, and, for only a second, paused. He thought about the message in his paw, and what it meant…and suddenly, he felt invigorated all over again. Once more, the scent of a rat came come to his nostrils — there was something his father didn’t want him to see when the rest of the Club went to Misery Cave.

There were dangers to be had, sure. But now Meowth remembered the reason he was here. He couldn’t corner his father like he thought, but he could still discover the motives behind what he was doing. And that was something Meowth refused to pass up.

He lowered the paw holding both the envelope and the letter to his side, carefully pointing the text away from Jermy. “Yeah. Just let me get my kit.”

---

Today was the day, and Mathew could hardly wait.

The Club had gathered early in the morning in the Resort lobby, waiting for Mr. Persian and Demurke to arrive. Since their trip today was supposed to be higher stakes and very relevant to their performance, David had apparently canceled their Waregle training for the day. Mathew would’ve more than appreciated the warmup, but at this point, he felt ready enough that he didn’t mind too much.

The wait for them was almost agonizing. The cubone was nervous, yes, but there was so much to be excited for! This incredibly busy week was about to pay off in spades. If he did this, succeeded, and then finished the Wormhole Wristlet, they were completely set. Mathew would get the comfier OCEAN position; Joey would get his memories back without him having to say a word; and Meowth would get the hell out of his life.

It was perfect. He was so close to getting everything he wanted.

Soon enough, a certain murkrow wandered into the lobby, carrying eight satchels in her wings…but no cream-colored cat.

Politoed was the first to point it out. “Where’s Mr. Persian?” He sprung up from the beanbag chair.

“Um… Mr. Persian i-isn’t gonna make it today,” Demurke explained. “He needed some…time away this m-morning. So he told me to share the p-plans!”

“Of course he isn’t,” Meowth mumbled, because, Mathew figured, he had nothing else productive to say.

Minichino, on the other hand, looked more concerned as she rose. “Oh… Okay.” She approached Demurke, reaching for the satchels, but the murkrow stopped her.

“I-I got it!” she declared, getting her to back away. The Murkrow promptly turned to Mathew and offered him one of the satchels. “H-Here,” she said gently. When Mathew took it, it was heavier than usual. Mathew could tell there were two things hidden inside. The first was a pair of dark-type goggles that would prevent Hypnosis from affecting him. David had issued for some to be sent to him after their meeting with Dit. The second…

The gun.

One by one, Demurke handed out each satchel to the rest, trying to make the handoff look innocuous. Joey and Jermy were next, of course, since both of them were also receiving a pair of goggles, but Demurke had no set order for the ones receiving empty satchels. However, when she made it to Politoed and Breloom, she paused, peering down at another brown bag next to Breloom’s chair. “What’s in that b-bag?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, we were gonna show these off after Per got here,” Breloom remarked. She reached down into a bag and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment. “Poli and I grabbed a few things to help us out, like this map of the cave.”

“W-woah, that’s…really useful!” Demurke jumped up onto one of the chairs and peered over Breloom’s shoulder, getting a look at the map in her claws.

“Not the only thing we brought with us!” Politoed reached in and grabbed three more objects: a pair of strange-looking sticks and a red glass ball with yellow spots and the symbol of a white, spiked snowflake in its center. Two wands and a wonder orb, if Mathew’s memory of Jermy and Demurke’s lecture on them was right. “First come, first serve. Whoever takes one’s responsible for using them to help everyone else.”

Minichino’s eyes lit up. “A Tunnel Wand! Politoed, you’re a genius!” She reached for a stick shaped like a pickaxe with only one sharp end.

“Don’t thank me,” he said as he passed it off to her. “Thank the Kalmwa’er Service Guild. Got some family that works for them, so I could call in a favor.”

“So you came up to them, asked them for help…and they just handed you their map of the dungeon and a set of items?” Meowth asked, still primed to bite the hand that fed him like the brat he was.

Politoed shrugged. “Guess they were in a good mood yesterday.” He raised up the remaining wand and orb. “Gonna hand off one of these and keep the other for myself. Any takers?”

Mathew examined both objects, but only one of them really caught Mathew’s eye. It was a bright blue stick whose shape was jagged and uneven. Two strange, azure-colored leaves sprouted from its side. Its end pointed straight forward, and the part in Politoed’s hand was round and easy to grip. “What’s that?” Mathew inquired.

“Whirlwind Wand,” Politoed explained. “Wave it at somebody and it’ll send a gust of wind that launches them way back. Would be good for keeping distance.”

Distance might be just what he needed against Meowth. “Dibs,” Mathew said promptly. He raised the hand clutching his club and loosened his grip so he could take the other weapon.

“You got it.” Politoed tossed the wand Mathew’s way. It met with his hand, but he failed to clutch it, causing it to hit the carpet below.

“Woah!” Minichino leapt to his aid, as if to rescue him. She picked up the Whirlwind Wand and properly offered it to him. “Be careful with this. You don’t want it to break.”

“Alright,” Mathew said. Seeing that he couldn’t carry both at once, he took the wand and gently set it in his satchel for now. Now, not only did he have three weapons to use, but the wand staying in his satchel would hide the gun even better.

“And that leaves me with the All Power-Up Orb,” Politoed said as he added the Wonder Orb to his own satchel. “Dunno if we really need it, but I’ll keep it if we’re in a pinch.”

“It’s really great that y-you brought all this!” Demurke said, leaping down from the chair. “We m-might need these, since n-not all of us…will have Meowth’s kit s-so close.”

“What’s that mean?” Meowth asked in an accusatory tone.

Demurke turned to Meowth. “It’s b-because of…the plan Mr. P-Persian has. Could I have the m-map? That’ll…help.” Breloom gave it to her, and she planted it down on the floor. As if they were in a war meeting, they all gathered closely around her. Her wing fell on the cave entrance. “When we get there, we’re gonna l-leave the buggy as close to the entrance as we can. Mr. Persian and I p-put a bunch of extra satchels in the floor, so once we g-get a couple filled, we can come back to the buggy to leave them there and get f-fresh ones. We should start out as…deep as we can m-make it into the cave so we won’t…have to walk as much later on.”

ORB studied the map. “Misery Cave has two levels and two floors. Even with dozens of satchels, the area you will all need to cover is vast.”

Demurke quickly sprung off of him. “That’s why Mr. Persian wants us to…divide and conquer.” She moved her wing to the first floor. “Mathew, Joey, Jermy, and Meowth need to make their way through the lower level.” Then, it went to the second. “Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, and I will…work on the upper level.”

“Interesting spread,” Politoed said. “Mr. Persian got a reason for those choices?”

Demurke nodded. “Mhm. Mr. Persian wanted Mathew and Joey to stick with Jermy for business reasons, and Meowth so they c-could get to his…medical kit easily. E-everyone else needs to go on the upper floor because th-that’s where the…geodudes are supposed to be.” Her expression became more intense. “Mr. Persian said that it was really important that we stick with our groups. If those guys catch us by surprise, somebody…might get hurt.”

“We hear you loud and clear!” Minichino exclaimed. “We’ll stay safe out there, no problem.”

“Good!” she exclaimed. “In that case, are we…g-good to go?” The question was aimed at everyone, but she was looking to two people in particular. “Jermy? Joey?”

Jermy was despondent, until ORB nudged him. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s frolick in this filth!” he exclaimed. Mathew knew why Jermy was acting so odd — it seemed like he didn’t think they could do it. Mathew could prove him wrong, he was sure of it.

Joey, though…he had been quiet since their meeting with Dit. He wasn’t really sure why. It was probably the pressure getting to him, if Mathew had to guess. The totodile got to his feet. “I reckon we’re ready.”

“Yeah, sounds like it, Joe.” Breloom made for the front door. “Dem, pass me the keys. I’ll drive.”

Mathew had no objections.

---

As the buggy cruised down Asulaguah Beach, the air around them was tense. Joey wasn’t sure if all of them had noticed, chatting away casually like nothing was wrong, but he certainly did. Right now, in this buggy, half of the people here were preparing to jump Meowth. The other half was completely oblivious.

Joey’s feet shuffled around, pushing the empty satchels on the floor of the buggy. He was settled in the back row, on the left end. To his right was Meowth, and past him, Demurke. The cat was flanked on both sides. Mathew was right in front of him. It was probably for the best that the cubone was on a different row; it made it real tough for Meowth to see what was inside his satchel. Joey, of course, already knew.

On its left, the buggy approached a cracked rock that was more than familiar.

“You guys don’t happen to see our old friends over there, do you?” Breloom asked them all. Unlike the incident that cracked that rock six days ago, she was driving slow enough for the whole group to hear. Everyone’s eyes were on the rock as it passed by.

“Nope. No sign of that barbaracle,” Jermy, in the center of the buggy, remarked. Joey couldn’t make anything out, either.

“Really, we should be thankful,” Minichino commented. “The last thing we need is another dungeon pokémon on our backs!”

Joey supposed Minichino was right. Still, for a brief moment, he wished that that dungeon pokémon was there, that it had gotten in the buggy’s way and maybe even prevented them from reaching Misery Cave entirely. Then maybe he would stop feeling so miserable, going along with this.

He wished that there had been some landmark around where he had first woken up on this beach seven days ago, or where he had found Mathew in Pawalmtry Forest just next door. If he had known then that awakening Mathew would lead to this endless cycle of investigating him and appeasing him…that it would lead to this chaotic, messy double-life that was difficult to keep up with…that it would lead to this…would he have still woken him up?

“Joey. Are you okay?”

The crocodile lurched in his seat. “Yeah, I’m right as rain,” he remarked, trying to cover himself. It amazed him how Meowth could read his contemplation so easily off of his face. “What about you?”

For a second, Meowth looked off. “I’ve been thinking about this mission a lot.” He didn’t make it clear, but from his tone, Joey could just tell — Meowth could feel the tension, too.

Joey could tell him where the tension was coming from. It’d only take a couple words to — no, no! He couldn’t do that! There were a dozen reasons he couldn’t. Joey had to keep building trust. He had to keep working for OCEAN. It was the only path to his memories. Meowth knew all about that from their ride on the gondola. He would understand, right?

No, that wasn’t what he should be asking. Meowth…would forgive him, right?

That was the question that was swirling in Joey’s head when they arrived at the entrance to Misery Cave.

The first thing that caught the totodile off-guard was the sheer height of the cave. As Pawalmtry Forest came to an end and opened into a grassy field, a weathered rock wall grew taller and taller, and the sand bumpier and bumper, until a massive opening made itself known. From it came the mouth of a river — Arbor River, according to Politoed and Breloom’s map — spilling out into the ocean like drool from the mouth of a beast. As the buggy came closer, Joey could get a better look at the interior. The ceiling was hollowed out, with openings to the plains above allowing light to flood into the part of the cave protecting the river.

Given how erosion caused by rain and river water slowly displaces rock and dirt over time, giving shape to new landscapes and altering the kind of life that can thrive in it, Joey figured that Misery Cave would one day become Misery Canyon.

…Joey blinked. Where had that come from? Another highly specific piece of knowledge he had nothing with which to ground… Did this have to do with that monologue that came to mind, right as he first came to? Why was it that this was what he could recite?

He wondered if, after the dust settled here, Joey would finally have an answer.

Breloom could only get so close to the cave with the buggy — the ground was becoming more rock than sand, and the more time they spent on it, the greater the chance they’d drive over one sharp enough to puncture tires. “Is this good enough?” she asked Demurke as she parked it.

“Yeah…th-that should be fine!” Demurke responded.

“Uh, now that we got here, question,” Mathew said, rolling his club in his hands. “All of the other dungeons have had these really funky names. Why is this one so…normal?”

“Think this one was probably named before Kalmwa’er was founded,” Politoed explained, twisting his head from the shotgun seat to look at Mathew. “Arbor River was mapped out more than two thousand years ago, while Kalmwa’er’s not that old. Probably had a different name before it was translated into the speech we use today.”

“Enough with the chit-chat, guys!” Minichino said, leaping from her seat without a second thought. “Let’s get this party started.”

Politoed and Breloom, at the front of the buggy, were quick to follow her, but the five in the back, not so much. Him, Mathew, Meowth, Jermy, Demurke…it was like there was a weight holding all of them down. Eventually, Demurke flew forward to lead Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, and then it was just the four of them, padding their way through the rocks towards the cave.

Joey took one last look at the ocean before they went in. It wasn’t as comforting as he wished it was. Then, he forged ahead with the others.

He just wanted to get this over with.

---

As Jermy led Meowth and the humans who would soon fight him down Misery Cave, following along the river whose flow roared against the cavern walls, a mixture of feelings swirled through the pikachu’s head. On one end, the image of him yesterday, facing down David and trying to match him on equal footing, was still giving Jermy an incredible rush. He had long since suppressed those abilities because of their source, but the way flashing them had made David rethink…the catharsis would linger in his head for a long, long time.

One the other end, though he had won a small battle with David, Dit had utterly crushed him. His voice had fallen on deaf ears, in favor of perpetuating a boneheaded plan for the sake of ‘loyalty building.’ Jermy had no competence in the skill of developing such relationships, and even he could see into the pidgeot’s blind spot. Not that anybody noticed or cared — he was just David’s assistant, having a fit. Blast, that was demeaning…

Still, it wasn’t like Jermy could just run off from his position. The level of chaos such a thing would cause OCEAN was indeed immaculate, as David had pointed out. And besides, if he did try to bail from the organization, where would he go? The portals back to Earth were well-monitored and maintained, so escaping back there would be impossible.

Meanwhile, besides OCEAN’s mission, Jermy had no place in this world. He was merely a passing Earthling in a distant land, only familiar with it through study and distant observation. He hardly ever got time outside of OCEAN property — Kalmwa’er had really been his first glimpse into what normal living was like for these people.

Jermy was stuck. And so, for now, he would continue to follow along, as much as it miffed him.

At Jermy and Demurke’s lead, the Club approached the fork in the road. The ceiling of the cave hung low to the river’s surface, so low that it’d be unsafe to crawl into the water and follow it directly. Instead, two small openings, likely burrowed by cave dwellers ages ago, split off from the river on each end. The one on the left veered off as a straight side path, while the one on the right inclined upwards.

“Here…w-we are,” Demurke said. “We sh-should be going over here.” She gestured to Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, before leaping up and gliding to the other side, careful not to bump her head. The three had no problem following her across the river. Politoed, as a water type, had a natural affinity for swimming; Breloom had clearly learned from the best; and Minichino knew how to put the effort in, taking full advantage where it was shallow enough to stand and pushing hard where it wasn’t. Soon enough, the water had made its rift.

Jermy exchanged one last knowing look to the murkrow. “Alright, guys, this way!” The two of them began to lead each party to its fate.

The tightly cramped side path strayed from the holes in the roof of the cave, bringing them away from the sun’s light. It would have been deathly dark…if it weren’t for a line of torches adorning the walls. Jermy found this quite peculiar. Who on Solceus came all the way out here and lit these? Surely it wasn’t the dungeon pokémon. Regardless, it gave Jermy an idea.

“Hey, Mathew.” Jermy stopped the group to point at one of the torches. “You should snatch some light off of one of these!” The pikachu’s voice reverberated off of the close walls.

The cubone paused, looking between the pikachu and the torch. “What?”

Jermy lightly smacked himself. “Right, we didn’t make it to that part of the lectures… Depending on what evolution you end up taking, that club of yours might be able to hold on to fire without any burn marks! I was gonna get you to try it in private, but hey, this works too. Just hold it up — can’t bust up that club much either way.”

Mathew tested it, reaching up and dipping the blunt end of his club into the torch, and sure enough, the fire clung to it, turning it into a makeshift torch itself. “Huh…” Mathew seemed surprised and impressed.

“Interesting,” Meowth remarked. “I didn’t know that about cubone.”

Joey looked up towards the ceiling. “Ain’t all these torches supposed to be creating more smoke than a cigar in a cartoon in here?”

“Not how it works,” Jermy mumbled, just ignoring Meowth’s confused expression. “Hold that torch close to the floor, Mathew — we’re supposed to wait to grab trash until the end, but hey, all the surveying we get helps, right?”

With that, the four of them moved along, their steps against the hard rock floor echoing throughout the cavern path. Indeed, there were several pieces of trash here and there — paper wrapping was crumpled up and stuffed into a corner, while tiny bowls and bottles lay around, too dirty to properly use. From time to time, Joey would pick something up, prompting the others to do the same out of courtesy. But they had a plan to stick to: get to the end first.

Get to the right place to bludgeon Meowth first.

Their destination came upon them soon enough. The burrow opened up into a wide area filled with the mighty roar of Arbor River flowing above them. There was only darkness here — besides the glow of their eyes, ORB’s frontal glass, the fire along the walls, and the light of Mathew’s club, inky blackness awaited on all sides. A walkway had been formed by past spelunkers to guide them, where the rock was smooth and easy to follow. When Mathew put his torch up to the sides of the path, he could see sharp stalagmites shooting up from the ground, walling them off.

“Jesus, no wonder we’ve never tried cleaning this place…” Mathew mumbled, planting his free hand against a rock wall. There was a fork in the road, divided by this wall. The side of the wall towards the left path had a sconce filled with a torch; the sconce towards the right was completely empty.

“I reckon we should probably go left.” Joey squatted down and squinted at the ground. When he came back up, he had found a plastic fork.

With no objections, they drifted that direction. Although, as they moved, Jermy couldn’t help but ponder why only one path had alight torches. Surely the dungeon pokémon wouldn’t mind them…had somebody come and snuffed them out?

That was when he heard it. Past their footsteps and the rushing water, there was another sound bounding through the cavern. Some kind of…shuffling?

Jermy put himself in front and, with a gesture, got the others to line up behind him. If this was some kind of threat to their goals here, it would be his job to get it out of the way. With Mathew and ORB’s guidance, Jermy prowled forward like a mouse hunting its cheese. Steady…steady…around the bend…and—

“Grooooar!”

“Waaaah!” Jermy stumbled back in panic as he almost smacked face-to-face into the pokémon turning the sharp corner. “Back! Back!” he shouted, just short of firing off an electric attack when he realized they had jumped back as well. The pokémon’s own torch clattered to the ground, slipping out of their…wing? No, Jermy realized, this one wasn’t able to growl at all — merely imitate it.

Behind him, Jermy heard Meowth’s recognition. “...Chip?”

A blue-ish blob, made muddy by the deep shadows, tended to the headphone-carrying chatot. “Chip! Ya good?!”

“I’m fine, sire…” Chip mumbled, getting to his feet… then promptly giving the…whoever this was a pat on the back. “But thanks for making sure,” he added sincerely.

Meowth pushed up in line, joining Jermy. “What are you two doing here?”

“I think we could say the same to you,” he remarked, giving Meowth and Jermy a stern glare as he picked up his torch. “Misery Cave’s not the kind of place you should just walk into! If we weren’t here lighting the place, you wouldn’t be able to even see your paws!”

“Yeah!” the figure, which Jermy was going to take a shot in the dark and call a poliwhirl, chimed in. “These here stalagmites could come down and crush any one of ya! Or worse, block the exits!”

“Aren’t they stalactites?” Jermy pointed out.

“They’re stalactites, Poliwrath,” Meowth agreed. “The ones next to us are stalagmites.”

The poliwhirl tensed his fists, wrapped with some kind of orange sports tape. “Potayto, potahto! Who’s got time to keep track of them names anyway?!”

“Well,” Chip chimed in. “There was the little phrase from Dungeoneering class. ‘C’ for ceiling—”

“—’G’ for ground,” Meowth finished.

Chip turned to him, impressed. “So you at least remember that…”

“Point still stands!” Poliwrath remarked. “If ya didn’t tell anyone where yer going, ya’d start running into real problems real fast! We’d hafta get the rest of the ol’ Service Guild to come and help save you, and that’s assuming we notice ya missing.”

Jermy took a moment to glance behind him. Mathew and Joey had taken a step or two back. Mathew had a distraught glare, and Joey… That wasn’t an expression of relief, was it?

Regardless, it seemed like they were catching on to the problem he was seeing, too — there was no way they could fulfill the plan with these two Service Guild members out and about. How were they supposed to make sure that the officers not only left without suspicion, but stayed away far enough that they wouldn’t notice when things get dicey? Mathew and Joey needed to fight Meowth…

…but he didn’t.

The thought was ironic. Before, he was voicing that the three of them together lacked the experience to do this, and now the two of them were going to have to do this without him. The pikachu would have to misdirect Poliwrath and Chip.

“You know, there actually are a couple of people you could check up on to make sure you don’t have to save them,” Jermy said. “A couple of our buddies are on the other side of the cave, going around and cleaning up!”

“Cleaning up…” Recollection filled Chip’s eyes as he looked to Jermy, then Meowth. “Oh, you’re with the Club! Sire, that means…”

“Eh, ain’t that surprising he’d go along with some crazy ol’ stunt like this.” Poliwrath crossed his arms, playing with one of the loosened straps on his left wrist. “Sure, I could go pay Politoed a visit.”

“Cool! I could show you how to get to them, if you wanted.”

Meowth raised a brow. “Are you sure?” he seemed both curious and a tad confused.

ORB came to Jermy’s rescue. “If there’s anybody in this cave who’s expendable enough to join late to the cleanup, it’s Jermy,” he advised.

Chip shrugged. “Why don’t you lead the way then, uh…?”

Jermy offered a hand to shake, as if nothing was wrong. “Jermy!”

“Alright, let’s make this quick!” Poliwrath pointed at the other three. “If y’all are set on going down there, well…try not to get your heads chopped off.” He eyed Meowth, then Mathew. “Or chop off each other’s heads! Heheheh!”

“Sure.” Meowth met him with a glare made ominous by the flickering light.

The two of them quickly split up — Mathew, Joey, and Meowth continued down the path, while Jermy, ORB, Poliwrath, and Chip turned back. As the pikachu led them along, that miffed feeling returned to him. This was going to end badly, that he was certain of…but stopping this madness was out of the picture.

When Jermy got to the fork, he pointed towards the path that was unlit. “They went this way,” he lied.

“They went into the dark?!” Chip seemed shocked and concerned all at once. He pushed to the front, illuminating the way down the side path.

Poliwrath simply rolled his arm. “I swear, that boldness’ gonna be the end of ‘em one of these days.”

And so they pushed further into the dark, far away from anybody else.

---

It was just the three of them, now.

In the shadows, Joey hoped that the sunkenness of his expression was hidden from Mathew and Meowth. The moment they were anticipating was close — the crocodile could feel it, especially now that they had arrived at what seemed to be the back of the path. It had opened up into a flat, wide space, with the occasional sharp rock here and there to prod at their soles. Piles and piles of trash had been built up all around them — the handiwork of those geodudes — illuminated by the torches those two had hung up along the walls. It’d be easy for them to follow along the torches, but the center of the room was only lit by Mathew’s club.

“Alright,” the reptile said. “While we wait for Jermy to get back, we should probably handle what we can.” Mathew pointed towards a particularly large pile towards the middle of the room. “That one’s probably gonna take two of us to even make a dent in.”

Joey wasn’t really sure why Mathew had drawn attention to that pile, until he gave him a glare that said a thousand words. They needed a distraction — something to keep Meowth busy so he wouldn’t notice them preparing to strike. “I reckon I could help with that,” he remarked. “What about you, Meowth?”

Meowth looked to Joey, almost studying him…then shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’ll start us on that one over there.” Mathew gestured to the smaller pile just to the right. “We should make this quick — there’s so much garbage here, it smells. Goddamn…”

In response, Joey took a deeper whiff of the air and instantly regretted it. He wasn’t sure if he should be more worried by the smell itself, or the fact that his mind was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice it until Mathew pointed it out.

He and Meowth both sat down at the base of the pile, idly raking in trash and stuffing it into their satchels. Joey couldn’t help but notice that the cat had left his emergency kit at the bottom of his. In a few seconds’ time, it was buried beneath.

Joey peered to his right, past Meowth. He couldn’t see Mathew — only the edges of the light his torch of a club was illuminating. On the other side of this pile, he must be readying himself. As the one next to Meowth, it was Joey’s job to make an opening for him.

The crocodile took a deep breath. “How are you now?”

A bit stunned, Meowth looked to him. “Huh?”

“You said you were thinking a whole lot about all this. Now that you’re here…is it any better?”

“Oh.” Meowth relaxed, scooping up another part of the pile while staying fixated on Joey. “Not really. There’s something about all this that’s weird. I’m trying to figure it out.”

Everything in Joey’s body focused on keeping eye contact with the cat. Behind him, Mathew was there now, tiptoeing, saying nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see him carrying the poison gun. He was wearing the goggles now, obscuring his eyes. Even carrying the light, Mathew’s expression was covered in layers of darkness. Joey could picture Meowth’s unnerved expression, if he turned around and saw this. “I reckon…it’s nothing,” he suggested calmly.

“Maybe.” Meowth closed his eyes and brought his head down a bit. Mathew flinched and leaned back…but the cat’s expression returned to Joey. “What about you? It seemed like something was distracting you.”

Mathew took one step. Another. He was close to Meowth now. Any closer and Meowth would notice the torchlight — his next move would have to come in one swift motion.

“Yeah…” he mumbled. “I’m just thinking about…” Joey imagined Meowth laying in front of him, passed out, face scratched from hitting the rocks too hard—

And that was when his conscience kicked in.

What were they doing?! Everything about this situation was ridiculous and cruel! Meowth didn’t deserve any of this! So why had he been…why was he just going along with it, wasting his time feeling all mopey?!

No. He couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t.

Behind Meowth, Mathew sprung forward and swung down.

Joey cried out.

“Meowth, behind you!”

SMACK.

Chapter 19: United We Fall

Chapter 18: United We Fall

Shhhhhink.

Meowth’s arms trembled, desperately trying to keep steady the haphazard cross shape he had formed with them. Slowly, Mathew’s club slid against his claws, trying and failing to force its way to his head. It took a second for his eyes to adjust — the swing down had put the flame out, and now both of them were coated in the dark.

Meowth pulled his glance back and upwards. Mathew was equipped with some goggles over his eyes that wrapped tightly around his mask, like the ones Poliwrath and Chip had been wearing when they feared his Hypnosis. Mathew looked stunned, but frustrated and desperate. He clearly wanted that first strike to land.

Before Mathew swung, Meowth had noticed the club’s light out of the corner of his eye, and the sound of steps right behind him, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. The only reason he reacted in time was because of Joey.

In a swift movement, Meowth pivoted from his rear to his feet, pushing Mathew and his club backward as he fully turned to face him. The cubone stumbled back. “What the hell, Joey?!” he cried. “I almost had him!”

“Mathew, we ain’t going through with this,” Joey said, putting himself in front of Meowth. “It’s wrong!”

Meowth was stunned. Joey was in on whatever this was…? “What are you trying to do here?” he asked both of them.

“This whole day’s been one big setup,” Joey explained. “Our bosses wanted us to beat you up, so you’d stay out of our business!”

Suddenly, a dozen oddities all clicked into place. Why he’d been so arbitrarily split up from the other Club members…why they needed to go to the back of the cave first…why Jermy had run off with Poliwrath and Chip…all of it, to isolate him, so SEAS could punish him. He should’ve known that photo-taking scheme was too easy.

He looked ahead to Mathew, dimly lit by the surrounding torches. The darkness of the cave and his goggles couldn’t hide those eyes. Through them, he saw Mathew’s seething contempt. Even while regaining his bearings, he was clenching his club far too tightly in his hand. “Joey, get out of the way.”

This is what Mr. Persian had tried to warn him about.

In between him and Mathew, Joey looked fierce. “No,” he stated with firmness. “This ain’t the way to go about your anger with Meowth. I’ve put up with more crazy talk than a cricket in a crowd, but this whole plan’s where I draw the line.”

SEAS is just asking too much of me, Joey was probably thinking.

“So you can’t stand yourself letting Mathew stoop so low?” Meowth asked for clarification.

Joey peered at him with confusion. “I can’t stand me letting you get hurt,” he said, as if it was evident.

…Huh. So Joey wasn’t thinking about the job, so much as he was thinking about…him? A strange, foreign feeling filled Meowth. Flattery, maybe?

Mathew’s head drooped down, seeming betrayed…then lifted with a cold malice. “Joey, you and I both know there’s no way out of this. It’s the only way we’re getting any kind of peace!”

“Is this your idea of peace?!” Joey gestured to the whole cave. “It ain’t mine! If you really wanted peace, we could just tell OCEAN to go employ someone else and stay in Kalmwa’er!”

Mathew groaned, putting a hand to his mask. “Damnit, I know your dad would’ve told you about this if you just remembered…! Joey, even if we didn’t want to go through with this, we can’t back out now. You should know what happens to traitors.” The cubone didn’t have it in him to finish the thought, but as far as Meowth was concerned, he didn’t need to.

They’re killed.

His own father…was he faced with a bind like this, too?

For a moment, Joey stood there, stunned. When he recollected himself, Meowth had never seen him look more jaded. “Oh, so now you tell me something new about Dad? Only when I try telling you to stop acting like a loon?”

“Joey, I’ve been trying—”

“No, you ain’t.” His words cut through the cave more sharply than any blade.

Beneath the goggles, Mathew’s expression sunk in betrayal. “Fine.” The cubone backed up and grabbed…some kind of strange object the cat didn’t recognize. What even was that…? Based on its design, Meowth could only assume it fired something small. “Have it your way.”

“Joey,” he said, stepping in. The totodile turned to him, a little shocked. “Thank you. But I don’t think you’re talking us out of this.” If Mathew’s situation did match Mr. Persian’s, that meant that the cubone had willingly walked down the same path as him. Meowth refused to let that fly.

“Meowth…” Joey looked at him worriedly for a moment, before relenting, backing up towards the trash mound.

Mathew nodded. “Well, even if they didn’t need us to do this, I still wanna kick your ass!” he barked, stepping in to swing once again. “Consider it some goddamned payback.”

“Joey, if you really want to help, get my medical kit and back me up.” Meowth brandished his claws, ready for this.

He should’ve known keeping his license was a pipe dream.

---

“Well, if Politoed wanted to go deep, he certainly succeeded…”

If Jermy had gone back in time and asked his younger self, sitting in that science fair moments before his life changed course, what was on his bucket list of things he’d want his dream job to give him, ‘an opportunity to deceive the police’ would not have been on it. Listening to Chip and Poliwrath grumble about it taking too long to find the rest of the Club members on this dark path, the pikachu could only think about what Mathew and Joey were doing at the moment.

By now, Meowth had probably already been threatened — and struck, if he hadn’t complied to OCEAN’s demands to stay away and stay silent. Knowing their luck, he would probably escape the pair’s inexperienced clutches, find Minichino and the others before they deal with them, and flip everything around, exactly as he predicted. After that, they’d all be in dire straits. Poliwrath and Chip would figure everything out, and they’d be arrested.

What a waste of a bucket list item. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time. ‘Getting to receive the news that your sister was declared dead’ was a waste, too. And ‘getting to be endlessly bullied by your boss’. And—

“Jermy,” ORB said. “Keep your eyes on the road if you’re going to stomp around.”

He was brought back into the moment. Jermy had shifted to trailing behind the Service Guild members as they continued, making up directions whenever there was a split, or a fork, or rough terrain blocking their way forward. That way, they wouldn’t be able to make any guesses about whether he was telling the truth.

“Sorry,” Jermy mumbled to his machine. “It’s been a rotten morning.”

That prompted Poliwrath to peer back. “What’s got ya so down, huh?” he asked.

“Oh! Um…” He fought for a half-truth. “Just not an easy job today. I mean, Misery Cave?”

“Not exactly the safest of places,” Chip concurred. “What kind of crazy boss do you have to be to send untrained pokémon here?”

“Probably a real loon! Ehehehe!” Poliwrath chuckled.

Chip shot Poliwrath a glare. “I was referring to our client, sire…”

“No, no, he’s right,” Jermy said. “It’s a whole different type of crazy.”

And so was he. Jermy was going through with this, after all, despite his objections and complaints and worries. He was helping the organization assault somebody even if he didn’t like it. The pikachu was playing a role in a war he’d lost hope in a long time ago.

Jane had been right. Why did he stay here and let them drag him into this?

Rrgh, why did he even ask that question?! He knew the answer! It was because, once upon a time, he hadn’t been a part of this. Jermy had just been a person who loved science and math and had no concept of living as the yellow rodent mascot of an international media brand. Jermy had worked under Emmons Labs where his bright-hearted boss put them to task on making Earth a better place. That wasn’t what this organization was now, but Jermy still held onto that hope that, after this nightmare was over, he could have his old job back, where there was no pressure other than the path to scientific discovery, where David believed in his ability to act on his own, where his coworkers respected him and helped—

OCEAN will never be the place you want it to be again. You have to find another way.

…

Jermy stopped walking.

What?

Where…had that come from? That was something he had thought just then, right? Then why…

Poliwrath and Chip were both giving him weird looks. “You good back there?!” Poliwrath asked.

“...I need to sit down for a second.” Jermy stepped back, and slid down the stalagmite until his rear reached the cold, hard stone. The satchel weighing him down fell out of his grip.

“S-sir!” Chip panicked, flapping over to him as he sat, hand against his head. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m thinking.” Jermy tried to wave him off, trying to make sense of this sudden confliction.

ORB pushed up against his side. “Scans indicate unusual signs of disturbance and confusion.”

The chatot buried his face in his wings. “Gah, what a terrible time to not bring our emergency supplies…!”

“Chip! We still gotta do somethin’!” Poliwrath said firmly, bringing a torch up close to the two of them. “Surely we know how to calm down a lil’ freakout…”

Chip mused for a moment…then his expression brightened, and he brought his wings to his neck. “Take this,” he said, pulling off his headphones. He pried the nigh-invisible music player off of his body and fiddled with it. “If it’s thinking that’s got you like this, maybe some background noise will help you work through it?” Chip offered it to him.

Jermy nodded, taking the headphones and awkwardly pressing them against his mousey ears. A quiet, calm, steady beat filled his ears, built from percussive instruments he had never heard before. The music flooded his head as he processed what he had just experienced.

That sudden, random, foreign thought was something he had been ignoring this whole day…and yet, when it was laid out to him, it seemed so obvious. His position really wasn’t going to go back to the way it was on Earth, so why did he continually drown himself in OCEAN’s demands? True, their threats held the pikachu back…but anywhere was better than this.

Jermy mulled over his next step — the decision he would need to make if he wanted to break off. The thought of having to go toe-to-toe with their soldiers intimidated him, but the beats filling his ears calmed his fears and raised his confidence. He was a smart cookie, right? He could find some way around or through those fights, surely, even if his strength wasn’t all there. All he had to do was make sure everyone else came out of it okay.

Slowly, Jermy rose to his feet. “Thanks,” he remarked as he passed the headphones back to a relieved Chip. He wasted no time in turning to his robot, light coming through the front glass like a headlight. “ORB, I want you to change your internal alignments.”

Jermy waited for a witty retort from ORB that never came. “What alignments are you adjusting?”

After a pause, Jermy asserted, “OCEAN is an enemy now.”

Poliwrath’s eyes flicked between Jermy and ORB. “Uh, what the heck are ya…?”

“I should point out that shifting OCEAN to the enemies list also shifts a multitude of people out of the friends list,” ORB said. “Are you sure?”

“Well…” Considering himself, the war, and Jane… “A lot of them are hanging in the wrong list.”

ORB paused for a moment, silently churning his request. Then, he said, “If you want to protect the Club, you’re not going to do it at this pace. You snails need to stop slithering around.”

“Wait…” Chip peered at Jermy. “What does he mean, protect the Club?”

“I’ll make this quick.” Jermy spun to the Service Guild members. “Long story short, I lied. Politoed and the others aren’t here in the dark. They’re closer to the entrance…and if we don’t go find them now, they’re all done for.”

---

Ffsshhhhhhh…

The weapon sizzled like a soda can as a purple gas filled the air. Poison… Meowth took a quick breath of fresh air and held it as the colored mist spread around him. He sprung back, but Mathew rushed him down. He swung for his left cheek, but refocused at the last second and smacked him in the side. Meowth grit his teeth and put a paw over his mouth, trying not to gasp from the pain. He kicked him away and sprinted out of the cloud.

He peered at Joey as he stumbled away. The totodile was still rummaging through his satchel, trying to find his kit. Even if Mathew refused to fight Joey, Meowth didn’t like the thought of leaving Joey alone with him. Meowth needed to buy time before he could make a break for—

A bone soared right past his face.

Meowth skidded to a stop, just short of taking a face-full of it…and then lost his balance, tumbling into the trash at his feet. He heard the club whir through the air, returning to Mathew like a boomerang. The cat was prone — he needed to think fast. As his arms swum through the filth around him, an idea came.

He grasped a bottle, turned onto his back, and tossed it at Mathew. Then, a piece of cardboard. Then, an old scarf. Mathew shrugged off each makeshift weapon easily. “Shit, that’s the best you’ve got?” he lowered his weapons as he came closer, looking disappointed. “Where are those coins of yours—gah!”

Coin-shaped disks of energy, formed in Meowth’s own paws, were slung through the air, answering Mathew’s question. One slashed at his right arm, one at his left, and one was big enough to topple Mathew over. He sprung to his feet and getting some distance. “Joey! Have you found it yet?”

“Just a sec…got it!” At the other end of the cave, Joey leapt up and raised his arms to the sky, clutching his medical kit in his hands.

“Open it up. How many pink berries are in there?” Trying to get some level of protection between him and Mathew, Meowth leapt at one of the trash piles and started clawing his way up. Whoever had left these here — the geodudes? — had packed them surprisingly tightly, well enough to mostly hold his weight.

The sounds of panic echoed through Meowth’s ears as Joey fumbled with his kit, trying not to drop the items inside as he opened it. “Uh…ain’t any more than two in here!”

Two…that wasn’t a lot. If Mathew fired another poison cloud toward him on the summit of this mound, he’d only be able to stand his ground twice, assuming Joey could toss one his—wait. Where had Mathew gone?

Meowth looked all around the base of his pile. Hadn’t the cubone been just behind him? Fortunately for him, his eyes were well-adjusted to the dark, so if Mathew was trying to slink through the shadows, he wasn’t going to have much luck. That meant he must be hiding behind one of the other piles… “Joey, do you see him?” he called out to the totodile.

“Hah…Lemme see.” Joey closed his satchel and began weaving through the small maze of mounds. Right as he came close to the cat, he suddenly pointed at one of the piles close to him. “Here!”

Waste clattered and crashed as Mathew sprung out from behind it. He was carrying his satchel in the arm that once held his Club. With a thrust of his other hand, he pointed his mystery weapon forward and fired…at the base of the pile? Meowth looked on confusedly as it formed below, then let his watchful eyes follow Mathew as he sprinted to the other side.

Meowth could see his game here — Mathew was going to climb up to him, then push him backwards into the poison, rendering him unable to hold his breath through it. He produced another coin in his paw, preparing to deliver another Pay Day onto the cubone. If he wanted to climb up here, he could certainly try.

Preparing his ascent, Mathew reached into his satchel and pulled out his—

That wasn’t his club.

FWOOSH!

A powerful, controlled blast of wind rushed from the Whirlwind Wand into Meowth, launching him backwards. Cutting pain seared through Meowth’s back as he slammed into the wall of the cave, then went down…down…into the poison cloud. He hit the floor, and instantly a putrid taste filled his mouth. He coughed and hacked, trying to get it out of his system, but it persisted, leaving him weak, injured, and unable to move.

He could barely even look up to see Mathew approach him as the cloud dissipated. “We could stop this right now, Meowth,” he told him firmly. “If you leave this cave and the Club, never speak of this again, and stay the hell out of our way…we’re done here.”

Meowth wheezed and shuddered, barely even able to get out an answer. If he turned back here, he wouldn’t find the full truth behind his father. If he turned back here, he would never prove that his peers were wrong about him. Even worse, if he turned back here, he let Mathew have this win. He couldn’t afford to leave this fight. Besides…it was probably time for him to take a beating, anyway. “N—cugh!—Never…”

Mathew paused, as if stunned by the answer. Then he stepped forward, raised his arm, and… “Alright then. Have it your way!” The club banged down on Meowth’s ribcage, making him lurch in pain. “I’m not leaving…” Again. “until my job here is done!” Again. Scraped from the rock, eaten away at by poison, and beaten by a club, his vision was going dark… “So we’ll just have to—gaaaaaah!”

Mathew screamed, stumbling away from him in recoil. Meowth couldn’t see what hit the cubone…but he did see water dripping all over the rocks next to him. He was picked up, and a pink berry was awkwardly put in his mouth, followed by a blue one. Meowth swallowed them both down. The feeling of being gnawed at from within subsided, and energy came back to him.

“Are you good?” Joey asked, trying to put him back onto his feet. The totodile put his kit into his paw.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Meowth pushed off from the totodile, regaining his bearings. He looked over to the cubone, still reeling from the Water Gun Joey launched on him. Droplets fell from the back of Mathew’s dampened skull mask, making him flinch whenever one happened to hit his tail. He looked back to Meowth in contempt, raising his club and the Whirlwind Wand in his other hand…and, upon seeing Joey put himself between the two, promptly lowered them.

“Seriously, Joey, you’ve gotta stay out of this,” he ordered, breathing heavily. “Do you want me to use either of these?”

“I reckon you shouldn’t use any of them,” Joey said, looking down upon the reptile. Just barely lit by the other torches, Meowth could see fury and desperation in Mathew’s expression…but he didn’t dare lift a finger against the totodile. Joey didn’t seem oblivious to this, either. “And against me, you ain’t gonna, are you?”

Mathew seemed momentarily surprised. “Joey…what kind of person do you think I am?”

I would never hurt somebody who wasn’t dead to me, Meowth figured Mathew intended.

The crocodile squinted. “You don’t got any problems with using it against Meowth. Why not me?”

“Because he’s dangerous, and you’re a kid.”

“Since when did me being a kid ever stop us before?” Joey pressed.

“Ugh, forget this!” Mathew grabbed the totodile’s side and pushed him away, then sent a gust to Meowth’s right. Meowth narrowly avoided being blown back — but it did get his arm, causing his grip on his kit to go loose. It spun like a disk and crashed into a mound of trash, out of sight. “Ha! Hole in one, bitch!” the cubone then yelled, storming the cat at a reinvigorated pace.

Once more, Meowth was subject to a game of cat-and-mouse, where he was the mouse. Joey, with a yell, was the dog now, hunting the cat.

So healing off his strikes or poison is out of the question, Meowth contemplated as he sprinted, moving on all fours to pick up the pace. I need to get him to miss everything he throws at me. But how—?! His train of thought was interrupted as his hind paw struck the sharp end of a wedged rock. A second later, he heard Mathew cry out as he stumbled, tripping over that same rock. That gave him an idea…

Using a passing pile of waste as a stepstool, Meowth reached up and pried one of the torches off of its mount. “Joey!” he called as he swapped back to a bipedal run. “Put out every torch in this room except for this one!”

“What?!” Mathew cried, panting as he sprinted harder to close the gap between them. “Damn you…!”

Joey called out. “Are you sure it’s okay if I—”

“I’ll be fine.” Suddenly, the cat planted a foot down and faced Mathew head-on. When he came down with his club, Meowth blocked it with his torch. The weapons were almost of equal size. “I can see in the dark. Just take them out!”

Mathew continued his onslaught, making swing after swing after swing with both the club and the wand. Meowth’s new torch was much easier to guard with than his claws were, allowing him to keep each strike away as the cubone advanced upon him, pushing him against the wall at his back. It may not have worked earlier, but Mathew was breathing harder, swinging sloppier… He was relentless, but the totodile had done a number on his stamina.

Speaking of Joey, the cat couldn’t help but notice torches going dark out of the corner of his vision, one by one. If Meowth could just hold out a bit longer…

Angered by their deadlock, Mathew pulled back as far as he could muster, then swung harshly down on Meowth with both weapons. He blocked, but couldn’t throw him off, leaving the two in a struggle. The two stared at each other for a moment…and then Mathew’s eyes flicked to the end of his torch.

Before Meowth could even think about it, Mathew slid the club up and pressed the blunt end straight into his torch’s fire. Once more, the club was ignited — and right up in his face. Meowth leaned his head away from the club, using a free paw to pull some of his lengthy whiskers out of the way. With Mathew reaching so far, it was easy to prod him with the torch.

“Gyaaah!” Seeming more stunned than in pain, Mathew fell back, giving just enough room for Meowth to slip away. He gave a sweeping look around them…and was met with darkness. Joey worked fast — fast enough to already be at his side, lobbing one last small Water Gun at Mathew’s club. Now the two could only see what was immediately around them.

“Quick! If you don’t want him to see, we gotta get this room blacker than a…oh, forget it!” Joey pointed to the torch in his paw, fixing to take it out.

Meowth held it almost protectively. “Then how would you be able to—?”

“Oh no you don’t!” Giving them no time to banter, Mathew lunged from the dark, trying to tackle Meowth. With just enough time to react, Meowth kept himself from falling…but the cubone’s shove broke his grip on his torch. Meowth recoiled as the torch fell straight into the trash on the floor.

It landed by a sheet of discarded paper. The light consumed the page, and quickly, its contents were burnt away. The flames danced from one piece of waste to the next, spreading like a plague. Soon the whole pile was charred, fueling the destruction as it spread.

For a moment, the three of them backed up, watching it grow and cast long shadows behind them all. Joey sloppily lurched back and launched a Water Gun at it, but the move was too weak, and the totodile was too tired. He wasn’t strong enough to put this fire out. None of them were.

All at once, each of them realized the moment had come to make their move.

Meowth and Joey whirled towards the exit, but they were too slow. With a clatter, Mathew threw his club and wand aside and gripped Meowth’s tail. He swallowed a yowl as he was pulled back towards the flame, kicking futilely.

“Meowth!” Joey cried. He lunged and grabbed one of his paws. “What the heck are you doing?!” he asked Mathew as he tried to get Meowth away. “Ain’t you gonna get burned, too?!”

“For causes like this, it’s worth it!” the cubone yelled. With whatever strength was left in him, he desperately pulled Meowth towards the fire.

Meowth grunted in pain, trying not to cry out in pain and break Joey’s focus. He was the object in their tug-of-war, and the pain between his arm and his tail was splitting. The cat could swear he was going to rip in half—

“All of you, stop!”

Suddenly, a bolt of electricity surged over Meowth’s head. Mathew and Joey both let go of him, scrambling away from the fire. Meowth clamored onto two paws and turned to face Jermy, putting himself at the center of the trio. He refastened his combative stance. “Great, now there’s three of you…”

“He said ‘all of you’, moron,” ORB chimed in, rolling past Meowth’s shins as he headed off into the darkness.

“Everything there is to be said about you has already been said, so let’s just not get into it.” Jermy said before turning to Mathew. “You need to stop attacking Meowth.”

Meowth loosened his stance, surprised. Jermy was…asking Mathew to stand down? With a glance, he saw the totodile gawk, too.

“What?!” The cubone was just as flabbergasted. “Are you crazy? You realize OCEAN’s gonna—”

“Not give you the cozy job with the science division? Yeah, they won’t. It never existed in the first place — at least, not a cozy one. The only ones I know work you down to the bone, treat you like you’re worthless, and then don’t bat an eye if you ever get knocked down… It’s not the career you said you were looking for, Mathew.”

“You mean exactly what we’ve been doing up to now?” Mathew spat. The fire behind them crackled, reaching the peak of its ferocity. “Well…fuck it! That would be fine. I can handle putting my hand in this war of the gods or whatever that OCEAN’s doing. As long as it helps make that war end so I can find some peace—”

“Do you really think it’s gonna be all hunky-dory once you finish the war? No,” Jermy said. “You won’t come out of it the same guy you were going in. OCEAN and the war will take away what’s important to you, and you’ll never get it back. They already have taken away what’s important to you…” He squinted at Mathew for a moment, then addressed everyone. “And they’re in the process of taking even more, right now!”

Mathew stood there for a moment, stunned into silence. “...But…you were the one who led me to OCEAN in the first place! You had our backs every step of the way! How can you just turn around and—”

“Yes, I did do all those things,” Jermy cut in. “All of this is my fault. If I had the guts to tell my bosses off, you would actually be able to relax here in Kalmwa’er…and maybe Joey would be able to work on finding where his mom and dad ended up. I’ve made a mess of things, so just…lemme put it all back together, alright?”

Joey looked at Jermy in surprise, and with great sympathy. “Jermy…” Meowth wanted to feel sympathetic as well, but after that fight, he could hardly muster the energy.

“Also, since he forgot to mention the most important part,” ORB added, carrying Meowth’s medical kit in his claw, “There are actual lives on the line here. Why do you think OCEAN split you into two groups in the first place?”

It took a moment for the revelation to hit Meowth. He took back his kit and popped one more Oran Berry into his mouth, then passed one to Joey — luckily, he still had plenty of those. “If they knew I was meddling, then they probably also know that…”

“Yes,” ORB affirmed. “The rest of the Club is in mortal danger.”

“Hah?! Oh no!” Joey cried with horror. “We gotta get back to them!” He began to run off, biting into the berry as he moved.

“What?” Mathew seemed skeptical. “Who the hell would be fighting the rest of the Club? The only ones there are the geodude.”

“That’s what they wanted you to think,” ORB commented, “and it’s why we need to move.”

“Yeah, what he said!” Jermy slipped forward, using a Quick Attack to get ahead. His cheeks sparked, just barely lighting the way for them. “Come on!”

Meowth began to chase after them, but he stopped when he peered back. Mathew wasn’t moving. “Aren’t you coming?”

“...What?” Mathew’s breathy words weren’t aimed at Meowth. The cubone had his back to him, staring at the fire.

Meowth paused, really questioning if he should offer, but… “Do you need an oran, or…” No reply. “Forget it.” He whirled around and left Mathew be. He wouldn’t want his help after everything, anyway.

With the torches on the walls of the cramped path still lit, Meowth, Joey, Jermy, and ORB had almost no trouble running back the way they came. Soon, they emerged from the opening back to the river…

Just in time to see two green blurs cascade past them.

Joey cried out as Politoed and Breloom hit the rocks of the banks, splaying out. The former’s King’s Rock slipped off of his head; the latter’s cape tugged at her neck, pulled along by the current. Meowth was left stunned. A perfectly clean hit on both of them at once? He’d never seen that before.

The one responsible for it did not make himself a secret — and it wasn’t a geodude. To their left was a grey pokémon, staring them down with beady green eyes as he stood tall. He brandished the massive red girder in his hands as, behind him, Meowth could hear the grunts of Minichino, Poliwrath, and Chip fighting deeper in the cave.

“Well, what do we got here…?” The gurdurr looked confusedly at Jermy, but as his gaze shifted to Meowth, his expression turned to a wicked grin. “Fresh meat.”

Chapter 20: In the Dark

Chapter 19: In the Dark

In the depths of Misery Cave, there was little to comfort Mathew. All he could see was the pile of trash, burning away at papers and plastics and leaving nothing in its wake. All he could smell was the rank, polluted air of the waste around him. All he could hear was the crackle of that fire as it did its work. And, sitting down at a distance from the flame, all he could think about was the fight that had just transpired.

The cubone had gone into this believing he had the support of everyone. Joey and Jermy, despite the latter’s complaints, had been right there with him, seemingly willing to assist with taking Meowth on. OCEAN had supplied him with the weaponry to fulfill this mission, and the Club the battleground. And yet, here he was, with the two he trusted most having run off with Meowth to fight some unexplained threat, suddenly rejecting all of the promises and ambitions that he had been working for.

Mathew idly fiddled with the satchel around his body. At this point, he wasn’t even angry at them — just so, so confused. What the hell did any of this mean anymore? His whole world for the past week or so had revolved around OCEAN. So why—

Maybe Jermy knows more about this than me…

It passed through his head like a thought. It even matched his own inner voice. But whatever that was, it was not Mathew’s mind that had come up with it.

Instantly, he was back on his feet, looking away from the light of the fire in search of a source. “Who’s there?!” he called out. His voice reverberated against the walls of the cavern for several long seconds. Mathew’s mind began to tingle with doubt. Maybe he really had just imagined—

“Huh. I guess I shouldn’t have expected that to work on you.” Just like that, Mathew’s second-guessing vanished. The voice was more foreign and feminine now that she wasn’t trying to imitate him.

“Where the hell are you?” Mathew whirled around, squinting out into the darkness of the cave through his goggles. She seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“In your head at the moment. I’ve been watching you and your friends for some time. A few of you seemed like you needed a motivator right now.”

The cubone swiped his snout around, futilely trying to shoo her away. “Well I’ll pass. The last thing I need right now is a second promise from a weird mysterious voice that everything will get better if I just do x, y, and z. I’m not even finished figuring out the first one!”

“Right,” the voice from the dark said, her voice lingering no matter which way he moved. “You mean the promise from…the ‘light’, I’ve heard you call him, which hasn’t come true in the slightest?”

“I haven’t fulfilled the requirements yet!” he exclaimed, stepping back defensively and approaching the dying fire.

“...The trust you put into people is respectable, Mathew.” There was a twinge of disappointment in her voice. “But you really should know when it’s time to give in and realize you’ve been duped.”

“Duped into what?” he asked. Feeling skeptical, he backed up closer to the flames. He might not be able to tell where she was from hearing, but maybe she really was somewhere nearby…

“In the beginning, the ‘light’ told you that you would be able to start again in a world without an apocalypse if you only helped him with a favor,” she reminded him. “He didn’t make it clear to you that you’d be going to war. Then OCEAN pressured you past your breaking point so you’d focus on what’s in front of you and forget that it wasn’t part of the deal.”

Not having any luck, Mathew turned his attention back to the fire. The pile was almost level now, and most of the flammable material had already burned. The light in the cavern started to go out. “...So what do you want to dupe me into doing instead?” Mathew tilted his head, peering behind him.

“I want to dupe you into helping yourself here,” the voice from the dark told him. “Listen, Jermy and ORB didn’t get the chance to explain it, but there’s so much more going on than any of you realize — things you would never believe if I told you now.”

Mathew could only roll his eyes. “Oh, trust me, I know. Minichino already let me in on the whole ‘war on the gods’ thing.”

“...And you’d still go along with it, without knowing the full story?” she questioned.

He fully turned back, looking into the shadows of the cavern. “Anything to get me out of the hellhole that was my old life,” he said, harshly planting his foot against the rock.

“Anything? Anything at all?” she seemed skeptical. “You’d go far enough to even turn against your friends for it?”

He reflexively tugged at the strap holding his goggles to his mask. “Meowth is not my friend.”

“Meowth is not who I’m referring to.”

…Oh. She knew about that, then. Of course she did — she didn’t need any kind of hypnotic power to invade his privacy. “Look,” he started, annoyed, “after all this is over, I’ll convince Joey to…” His angry assertion that he’d fix the problem fizzled out quickly, and he was left with strong feelings, but no words.

“It won’t be easy,” she reminded him. “When push comes to shove, Joey doesn’t want a part in this plan. The only reason he went along with it in the first place is that you haven’t given him what he wants. What will happen when you do?”

Mathew eyed the satchel, still hanging to his waist, that carried the finished version of the gun he and Joey made. Joey had been distracted then, too…no wonder he had been so flaky today. Meanwhile, the one thing Joey was passionate about was fixing the portal, learning more about him…getting his memories back.

What would happen after they fixed the Wormhole Wristlet? If they got the promotion into the science division, would Joey really come with him?

“Right now, Joey’s in danger. Your friends are in danger. And all of them need your help. Maybe you don’t care, but…what about the reasons Joey matters to you in the first place?”

And with that, this voice from the dark had officially crossed the line. “...Get the hell out of my head,” he said coldly, stepping forward ‘toward’ her.

It took a moment for her to reply. “Okay. I told you what I wanted to tell you, anyway. I’ll leave you to think about it.”

Mathew was briefly stunned. “Wait, you’re not actually gonna leave, are you?” he called out.

No reply.

The cubone was surprised that actually worked. He was more than used to people insisting everywhere he went, and suddenly, this voice had just…backed down. Mathew was truly alone.

Now what was he going to do? He could simply return to where he had been seated and pretend that had just never happened, but after a conversation like that, the idea left a sour taste in his mouth. While it made him angry she had probed him like that, he couldn’t deny what she was saying. His friendship with Joey was slipping out of his grasp, and, if Jermy was any indication, there might be something about OCEAN he missed.

Mathew turned his head, and into his vision came the bone club and the Whirlwind Wand he had tossed away during his fight. Meowth had been the correct person to turn these weapons against, right? He had taken the cubone off of his career path by offering his condo, assured that he could help Mathew with his unwieldy state-of-mind, and then used Mathew’s helplessness as a means of wringing out information, making his circumstance even worse. The rest of the Club was right to hate his guts.

And yet…Joey had chosen to protect Meowth over him. And when Mathew remembered the thing that held him together, that meant Joey had chosen that over his own memories. The totodile seemed to hate what they were doing so much that he’d rather reject the group who can get them the only item they need to finish the Wormhole Wristlet than go through with it. To motivate Joey to do that…

That settled it. Mathew’s emotions were so overwhelmed that he couldn’t make sense of it all, but he knew Joey had a strong intuition. If nothing else, it was grounds for him to go out there and find out just what was happening. So, he gathered his club, his Wand, and his gun, and walked into the dark.

Behind him, the light of the fire was fading fast.

---

What the heck was going on?

Joey was left stunned by what he was seeing. Politoed and Breloom had crashed into the riverbank, and now some strange humanoid creature was staring them all down with a mean look in his black, beady eyes. They’d clearly already been fighting for a while, based on the fact that all three of them looked a little roughed up already. The wall blocking them from going past these tunnels earlier had been reduced to rubble on their side of the bank. Not to mention, he could hear more fighting going on deeper in the cave. The crocodile was very lost — weren’t they supposed to be fighting the wild geodudes that had been trashing this cave?

“Jermy,” ORB began, “you should—”

“Fresh meat?!” Jermy exclaimed, not letting the robot finish. “What gives you that idea? Who even are you?” ORB didn’t say anything after Jermy finished — Joey could only assume Jermy had done as he was going to suggest.

The strange man’s confident expression faltered into a confused stare, but after a second, his grin returned. “I’m just some gurdurr here for a good time! Me and my buds back here thought the geodudes in this here cave might be taking treasure with their trash, so we’re giving the place a raid! Of course, that means we’ve got get rid of witnesses like you lot.”

“Not a chance,” Meowth said. Before Joey could even react, a paw was already pushing an Oran Berry into his hand. “Get this to Breloom!” Meowth told him as he sprung to Politoed’s aid.

“Eh?! Of course you got… Rrragh!” Gurdurr raised his weapon and prepared to slam it down on the cat and Politoed, but Jermy got in his way, blocking him with thunder.

“Go, Joey!” he encouraged.

“Uh, right!” Without thinking, Joey jumped into the water, trying to get to the other side of the bank where Breloom laid. He winced — his knee scraped against the shallow end as he splashed in. Luckily, his crocodilian body moved fast, and in no time at all, he was at Breloom’s side. Joey put the wet Oran up to her mouth and… He froze. Breloom seemed half-conscious, and hardly in the state to have something shoved down her throat. How was he supposed to—

“Mmmh…” Breloom’s eyelid slid open ever so slightly, and their eyes locked. Just then, something impulsive activated in Joey. He put the Oran into her mouth with one hand and helped her chew with the other, gently moving the lower part of her jaw. By the time he was done, Breloom was aware enough to swallow on her own. “There we go…” she stumbled to her feet. “Thanks for the save, Joe.”

By the time she had returned to her senses, Politoed was already up and holding back the bandit with Jermy and Meowth, firing a stream of bubbles towards him with little effort. Gurdurr bulked himself up, keeping to his feet. “You guys get away from here!” Politoed ordered the three of them. “Breloom and I can take care of this!”

“What?!” Joey exclaimed, standing right at the edge of the river. “But ain’t Minichino and Demurke in there?! We can’t leave without ‘em!”

Jermy was quick to add, “Not to mention those Service Guild guys!”

Breloom nudged him as she took a moment to remove her cape and wring it out. “If you wanna help Min,” she whispered to him, “You’ll all have to get past him.”

“Get past…” Joey looked ahead to the tunnel breaking off from the bank in front of him — where Minichino certainly was now — then to the happenings on the other side of the river. Like a fly in a horse stable, Politoed hovered around his opponent, caught in a routine of firing his bubbles and leaping away to keep just out of reach from the girder. Jermy and Meowth were in a routine all their own, scurrying away and dodging sweeping swings by the ends of their tails. Still, with the bandit bolstering himself, he reckoned that the five of them wouldn’t be able to just walk by. If one of them were to stumble for even a second…

Joey had to get them past Gurdurr, and fast, but trying to cross again would do them no good, nor would getting Jermy and Meowth to swim his way to him — especially with ORB in the picture. All those options were too slow — enough for this bandit to land a clean shot with that long weapon of his. If only Joey could just pull them here…!

Or maybe…somebody could ‘push’ them here instead?

He had only one hope at this point. “Politoed!” Joey shouted, his voice ricocheting across the cave. “How good’s your throwing arm?!”

“Huh?” Gurdurr spared him a confused glance as his girder blazed through the air, the swing sailing just above the frog’s head. “What’s this chucklehead talking ab—?”

Politoed, on the other hand, wasted no time as he dived straight towards the mouse and cat. “If you two really aren’t gonna leave…!” He tucked the smaller Meowth into his arms.

Meowth gasped in surprise, but seemed to understand quickly. “Just do it,” he insisted.

Without time for an apology, Politoed reared back…and promptly chucked Meowth across the cave with a seismic toss. The cat was flung through the dry air, clutching his satchel and kit for dear life as he almost slammed into the wall a couple paces in front of Joey.

“Huh?!” The baffled bandit cried. Before he could react, Jermy and ORB were given the same treatment, bringing them from Politoed’s bank to Joey’s. Somehow, the one-wheeled robot was the only one to make a clean landing.

“Yes!” Joey cheered, immediately following it up with frantic waving and a “Go, go, go!” Getting the memo, Jermy, Meowth, and ORB charged ahead, making it to the tunnel leading to Minichino and the others in no time at all. Joey chased behind them and…

…was immediately cut off. With a mighty leap, Gurdurr jumped from one bank to another, walling Joey off from the rodent and the cat. “And where do ya think you’re going?” The bandit looked down sinisterly as he leaned against the cavern wall, blocking off the rest of the path with his girder.

“Uuuuh…” This was the first time Joey had gotten a proper look at the attacker. This gurdurr was large, wide, and extremely well-toned — everything the average dungeon pokémon and even the low-level OCEAN soldiers wished they could be. Gurdurr made the sandygast of Asulaguah Beach look like a joke, and he almost lost to one! Futilely, Joey revved his water pipe up and…barely reached his chest with the arc of his Water Gun.

“Hehehaha! Was that supposed to scare me or something?” Gurdurr was clearly not impressed. He answered by swinging his free arm down like a hammer, smashing Joey against the ground. The crocodile’s maw stung with pain as he lay against the damp ground, pressed between his fist and the rock. He could feel his own heart pounding.

Thump… Thump… Thump…

A sickening guffaw rose from the Gurdurr. “What’s the matter? Jumped outta the frying pan and right into the fire?” Joey looked up and watched as his hand retreated, just in time for the girder to come down and—

It wouldn’t meet Joey. Just in time, Breloom leapt in front of him, catching the weapon with both of her claws. Gurdurr tried to push it down further, but she refused to back down. “New plan! Joe, you’re…sticking with us!”

“O-Okay!” Joey crawled out of the way, then got to his feet and scurried away. Behind him, he could hear the slam of the girder in the rock, and the galloping as Breloom got away from it.

Politoed was waiting for them, rummaging through his satchel as they kept their foe busy. “Think it’s about time we pull out our secret weapons, Breloom,” he advised, tossing paper and plastic left and right until he finally pulled out the red Wonder Orb.

“…Wait. What do y’all mean, secret—?!” Joey flinched at the sound of shattered glass — in Politoed’s hand, it suddenly burst, breaking off into harmless shards that faded to white and dissolved. Joey felt a foreign force flow through him, one that made him feel fresh, as if he had just stepped into a warm shower.

“Yeah, there we go…” Breloom testingly flexed an arm. “You feel that, Joe?”

“I reckon I could run a mile like this!” Joey exclaimed. He wasn’t exaggerating — the exhaustion from running around trying to get past this gurdurr was fading away.

“Only lasts about three minutes, so we have to make it count,” Politoed suggested, before fully turning his attention to Breloom. “Ready to save the day?”

Breloom nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Suddenly, the two of them sprung to life, leaping towards the gurdurr. In reply, he gave a hearty chuckle. “You two really think that dinky little orb’s gonna help? Trust me, it won’t!” Without a second thought, Gurdurr whirled around and laid his weapon down flat, blocking the pair’s path. Politoed and Breloom refused to stop.

“Hang on! What are y’all doing?!” Joey tried to call out from afar, but that was when he noticed something. The dead air of the cave…it was moving.

In a split-second, Breloom planted a foot, and a massive gust of wind picked up beneath her cape. She jumped up…up…up…way beyond what should’ve been possible…and landed a punch to Gurdurr’s face, sailing right over his girder. “Urk—!”

Without a second thought, Breloom kicked off of his chest, pushing herself backwards as she descended slowly, rushing air cushioning her fall. “Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never seen a weapon made out of type stones before?”

A weapon…? Joey didn’t understand what she meant until light glinted off of the purple gemstone holding her cape together. Hah?! Has she been hiding that in plain sight the whole time? And she ain’t used it until now?!

Gurdurr grimaced, looking at the gliding kangaroo in disbelief. “What—!” He, of course, missed the big green frog still barreling his way, jumping up to, then from the girder and meeting him with one, two slaps to the face. In retaliation, he concentrated his power and slugged Politoed right out of the air.

The frog was launched back again, but this time stuck the landing, diving into the river quite smoothly. Joey could only watch in awe as he gracefully stroked along, fighting the current with ease. He was actually going to pass the bandit by…!

Gurdurr tried to pick up his weapon and swing down on Politoed again, but Breloom was already coming to his rescue, leaping to the bandit’s side and blowing his arm back with the swipe of her cape. The wind slammed his arm back into the wall of the cave, dislodging rubble and leaving a small mess on the cave floor.

Joey watched as Gurdurr studied this…and grinned with inspiration. “Let’s make some catastrophe salad out of you, mushroom!” Just as Breloom moved in for what was surely a Drain Punch, Gurdurr took hold of his tool with both arms and swung upward, into the ceiling above her.

“Breloom!” Joey cried. She was frozen in panic, watching the rocks descend down on her. On reflex, the totodile pulled back and gave the absolute best Water Gun both his own power and the Wonder Orb could give — a high-arcing stream. It wasn’t powerful, but it did intercept the rubble, knocking the largest and most dangerous rocks off-course.

“What the heck?!” Gurdurr’s head whipped towards the totodile, bewildered.

Breloom grunted as a rock or two smacked her mushroom cap, but otherwise she leapt away from Gurdurr without too much injury. “That was incredible!” she called out. “Second time you’ve saved me today!”

“Y-You’re welcome?!” Joey said in response.

The totodile didn’t hear any praise coming from Politoed — just a splash as he jumped back onto the bank, now behind Gurdurr. The frog let another stream of bubbles spill from his mouth, pelting the now off-guard bandit. He yelped angrily as he was battered, leaving him helpless to avoid Breloom sinking her claws into his exposed leg.

“Gyaaaaah…!” Gurdurr yelled and groaned as Breloom sapped away. Her ability to drain him worked efficiently and effectively, and the slouching of the bandit’s posture made the results obvious. He tried to go for another slam of his girder, but his now tuckered-out form was so sloppy and slow, even Joey could tell what was wrong with it. She watched…and watched…and just as Joey worried she’d be crushed, she slipped away from his leg, ran in a half circle to get the wind under her cape, and then leapt for an aerial uppercut right to the chin.

SMACK.

The firmness of the strike made Breloom’s last hit to the head look like a joke. It was clean, it sent Gurdurr tumbling to the floor…and it sent something small flying through the air, landing on a small rock right by Joey. The totodile crouched down, taking a closer look. It was a small, circular piece of…glass?

Its purpose was clear once Gurdurr began to clamor back to his feet, using his weapon as a crutch. There was a change in his eyes — one was the same black as before, but the other was a clear brown. That’s real weird, Joey thought. Why the heck was he wearing black color contacts…?

Politoed and Breloom seemed to find it much more than weird. For a moment, the two dropped their combative stances, sharing an expression Joey couldn’t seem to get a read on. “Seems like our suspicions were right…” Politoed remarked.

Gurdurr panted, head swiveling from the frog behind him to the kangaroo in front of him. “Grrrrgh… I’ll admit, this is not how this was supposed to go…” he said breathily. He set his sights on Joey, making the crocodile tense up, but Gurdurr didn’t try another attack on him. “But if I’m going down… those two…” Without warning, he whirled towards the interior of the cave, somehow finding renewed vigor even now. “Are going down with us!!”

“Don’t think you’re going anywhere when—” Before Politoed could finish, the frog was tackled from the side, knocking him down. A purple and yellow cat with a curvy, sickle-like tail pinned him down with two paws.

“Big T—Gurdurr!” she exclaimed. “Go on ahead! I’ve got this one.”

The frog kicked her off, but it was too late — Gurdurr was charging into the cave as fast as his tired body would let him. The cat leapt back, making a point of putting herself between them and him.

“Breloom!” Joey called out. Gurdurr was pretty tall, but this cat was about the couple’s height. Surely they could get past her…

“Already on it!” She galloped down the cave’s riverbank like it was a runway, jumped — and was promptly shot out of the air by a pulse of black energy casted by the cat. Panicked, Joey spread his arms out to try catching the tumbling kangaroo. The force of her fall almost helped Joey’s head meet solid rock, but as he teetered on a heel, he pushed back with all of his strength and set Breloom down with both of his feet on the ground.

“That’s not gonna work on me so easily, sweaty.”

Breloom gave Joey a nod of acknowledgement, then looked to the cat, confused. “Don’t you mean ‘sweetie’?”

“Oh no, I mean sweaty, from how much you three have been working up one over here.” She stared the three down with her blue eyes, strikingly contrasting the pink mask-like part of her muzzle. “You were the ones who popped that Wonder Orb earlier, right? It’s made things much tougher for my friends…but I’m pretty sure that’s running out.” She gave a devilish grin, not unlike Gurdurr’s.

“Don’t need any fancy tricks to take on somebody who’s not used to walking on four legs—” Politoed lowered his stance again. “and I don’t mean when you were a Purrloin.”

“Hah?” Joey scrunched his maw, confused. What the heck did he mean by that?

The cat seemed to get the memo, though, her malice turning into something a little more sly. “Oh, so you know our little secret, huh? Well, bad news for you — I’m a liepard heart and soul.” Shink — her claws scraped the stone beneath her. “But once we’re through with you, you won’t know the difference.”

Joey readied himself once more. How much more of this could they take…?

Chapter 21: Against the Grunge

Chapter 20: Against the Grunge

Jermy had been right — if they had gotten here any later, their friends would have been toast.

Shortly after he, ORB, and Meowth had slipped past the gurdurr and followed the tunnel to the upper floor, it was clear the kind of circumstance they were dealing with. This open area of the cave resembled a giant donut — a massive hole in the ceiling and the upper floor of the cave shone a light down onto the passing river below, while the stalagmite and stalactite-filled ring of the upper floor was left in the shadows. There, along the right side of the ring, were the Service Guild members, beaten and battered, and Minichino, unconscious.

One of the so-called bandits, a dark-blue, shark-on-two-feet-like garchomp, leapt in for a death blow, pointing one of his sharp forearm fins towards the sprawled minccino’s neck. Poliwrath was the one to knock him out of the air, slamming the garchomp with his entire body. Chip, meanwhile, was trying to distract another two pokemon — a giant red crab with massive pincers and a tiny pink puffball with two leaves atop her head that spun like helicopter blades. The chatot was keeping them busy, narrowly slipping away from the crawdaunt’s pincer trying to crush him out of the air and keeping the approaching hoppip at bay with energy waves powered by his own yell, but it was clear how sloppily Chip’s resistance was.

They both looked exhausted, and they were still outnumbered. This was bad.

“Minichino…” Meowth looked momentarily stunned, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing…but in no time at all his stern expression came back. “I have a few Reviver Seeds left,” he told Jermy, raking at the side of his kit with one of his claws. “Keep those two busy and get Chip to come to me. I have a plan.”

“You got it, chief,” he said, sprinting ahead of the cat for a quick attack on the floating pokemon. He felt his jagged tail harden into steel, and with a leap into the air, he spun it the bandit’s way.

“Oh, well look who it is~!” With a twirl, the hoppip whirled around his incoming attack and bounced atop the pikachu, smacking him into the hard rock chest-first. “It’s a surprise to see you here. Don’t you have somebody else you should be roughing up~?”

Ignoring the pain of the landing, Jermy met her challenge head-on, clamoring to his feet. Chip looked at him from behind the distracted hoppip, seeming surprised but appreciative. With a deliberate flick of his ears, Jermy got him to fly away, towards Meowth. “Yeah… We had a change of plans.” Electricity surged through him, and with a point of his hand upwards—

Just before he could land a blow on the hoppip, the crawdaunt leapt in the way. When he put it forward, the piece of metal clutched in one of his pincers unfolded into a round shield, clearly made of metal but coated in a black rubber covering, sufficient to force Jermy’s bolt to redirect into a nearby stalagmite. “Rrrgh,” he grunted, looking at the pikachu with fierce determination. “If you think you can land a cheap shot past me, the Iron Wall, Crawd…aunt, you’re mistaken, Jermy!”

Jermy gasped. A shield? “Didn’t they tell you not to bring those trinkets with you?”

The hoppip chuckled, feeling even more confident behind the crawdaunt’s protection. “Well, if it’s you fighting us, it hardly even matters, doesn’t it~?”

“She’s got you there,” ORB said, a respectable distance away from the snarling Jermy, staying clear of whatever fight was about to break out. “Now would probably be a good time to ‘cheat’ yourself, unless you’re still too much of a wuss to use it.”

Jermy lightly shook his head. Even if he wanted to make use of the ‘ability’ that had gotten him out of dire straights with David yesterday, he barely had any practice with it. If he wasn’t careful, he might launch something explosive at Meowth, or worse… Speaking of Meowth, where the heck was—

“I guess you’re the reason we never found any geodudes.”

To Jermy’s surprise, when he looked to Meowth behind him, there wasn’t any confusion on his face at all. If Meowth had been listening in to his conversion, he certainly didn’t make it known.

“Hah! We ran them out! Their fists were weak against my hide,” the crawdaunt boasted to him.

“Right, your ‘Iron Wall’. Did you give yourself that title?” Meowth snarked, extending his claws. “That’s sad.”

“Oooooh, your bark is as bad as they say,” the hoppip said. “Too bad you weren’t put in your place like you were supposed to. Oh well~! Knocking you down will have to do. Or, I guess we need to do, if that kit’s got what I think it does…” she gave them a glare, flying above them all.

Protectively, Meowth stuffed the kit in his satchel comfortably resting against his side, freeing up both hands. “I’d like to see you try,” he taunted.

Just then, Jermy felt a pulse of energy enter his body from an unknown direction. His body and mind felt sharper, as if he’d gotten a full night of sleep for the first time in months. The Wonder Orb… Politoed must’ve just now used it, beefing up everyone he considered an ally in the near-vicinity. Based on the falter in Meowth’s fighting stance, he must’ve felt it too. Suddenly, Jermy felt a little more confident about this.

“Yeah…let’s show ‘em our bite, Meowth!” Once more, Jermy’s tail took on a metal sheen, but this time he was aiming for the edge of the crawdaunt’s shield. He may take pride in his defenses, but this bandit was only a water type — it’d only take a few shocks to bring him down, right?

It’d take a few clashes of metal against metal before any kind of opening would reveal itself. The pikachu panted each time he spun, swinging at the shield left and right, but the crawdaunt held firm — that was, until Meowth came to his aid, trying to get in claw swipes from another angle. Keeping rhythm, the crawdaunt shifted his protection from blocking Jermy to Meowth and back to Jermy again, but he was too slow. The jagged shape of the pikachu’s tail caught the end of the shield, and with a push, Jermy forced it aside.

“Wha—?” The crawdaunt’s eyes widened, not anticipating such a quick breach of defenses.

“Nice try, bucko!” Jermy‘s red cheeks flickered with bright and powerful streaks of lightning and—

“Why don’t you go beddy bye, Jermy~?”

“Gah!” His concentration was broken as a cloud of blue-green dust filled his eyes and nose. That dang Hoppip kept interrupting his…uh…his…?

Suddenly Jermy’s head felt incredibly heavy, as if he had been flung right back into those long, grueling sessions in the lab. Everything was so fuzzy, he couldn’t even concentrate enough to aim. His electric charge fizzled out, and he came close to collapsing right then and there. Of course, the hoppip was glad to finish the job, pushing him over with a simple tackle.

The next thirty seconds or so were a blur. The crawdaunt was towering over him…then he was plucked off the ground and pulled somewhere…there was the sound of bubbles soaring through the air and popping with force…

The next thing Jermy vaguely knew, chunks of some dry fruit were being fed down his throat. He felt the delicate pressure of Meowth holding him steady and upright as he came back to his senses.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch a glimpse at that kit from over here~” the hoppip proclaimed, approaching fast. “Somebody’s a little low on pink berries…”

Jermy and Meowth jumped in opposite directions to avoid a dosage of familiarly purple spores bursting from the hoppip’s body. She put the pressure on Meowth in particular, covering the trail of their chase in violet hues. Jermy readied to aim an electric bolt at her, but she was so hot on Meowth’s tail, he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t also hit him — especially when his power had been bolstered by Politoed’s orb. “Rrrrgh, we’re kind of on the clock here!” Jermy exclaimed, frustrated.

“Yeah, I know.” A bright light sparkled in Meowth’s paw that quickly formed into a golden coin. Just before the hoppip cornered him against a wall, he turned and flung it into the hoppip’s face.

"Nnnnngh!” she grunted, flipping backwards at the force of the attack. “That stings way more than it should…”

Jermy had been so focused on watching Meowth that he failed to notice the crawdaunt approach from behind, smacking him once, twice in the back of the head with the blunt end of his pincer. He tried to retaliate by turning and shocking him, but by the time he was ready, the shield was up again. Jermy groaned — this was getting annoying fast.

“Hmmph,” the crawdaunt grunted, seeming prideful. “If a mere type advantage is all you have to offer the Iron Wall, you stand no chance at bringing it down! You don’t outmatch or outnumber us—”

WHACK.

“I don’t think so!”

Jermy gasped, then grinned as he witnessed the bandit get a taste of his own medicine, being struck in the back of the head by the tail of a familiar, hat-wearing chinchilla. “Minichino!” Jermy exclaimed. “How are you back up?!”

Minichino leapt back from the crawdaunt, landing on the floor next to him. “That chatot gave me a Reviver Seed,” she explained casually, not even seeming worried at the moment. “Beats me where he got it, though.”

“So that’s why…yeah, that’d be Meowth’s doing,” Jermy told her.

“What?!” The crawdaunt momentarily whirled back to see Poliwrath and Chip, having been completely left to Garchomp in the chaos of their arrival.

Minichino’s mouth gaped, and in an instant she frantically pointed at the crawdaunt’s face. SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT.

Jermy realized what she meant just in time. Taking advantage of his slacked defenses, Jermy finally got a clean shot at the crawdaunt. He loudly cried out, the highly effective electric attack sending the water attack stumbling.

“Heck yeah! Man, am I glad you’re on our side here!” Minichino grabbed the pikachu’s hand and yanked him towards the game of cat-and-mouse Meowth still found himself on the receiving end of.

The hoppip quickly took notice of the pair navigating the poison-filled battlefield. “H-huh?” she blurted. “Well, looks like s-somebody wants a round two…~” She seemed a little less confident.

“Hey Meowth!” Minichino called out, seeming unbothered by the bandit. “If you planned out your workload as well as you planned that seed pass-off, we’d have cleaned Kalmwa’er twice over already!”

Jermy gave her a wary look as she pulled him through the maze of purple. What got her this cocky…?

After climbing up a rock and leaping over a cloud of poison spores, Meowth only acknowledged her remark with the shake of a head. “Just don’t let her poison you! I can’t heal that,” he called out.

“Don’t even worry about it.” Suddenly, Minichino pushed Jermy in front of her. “We’re already done here!” The minccino placed both of her paws on his back. The pikachu suddenly felt even more energy pulse against his back. She was supplying him a Helping Hand!

“Oh!” Jermy took one glance back at the crawdaunt, struggling to stand, looking at them in total panic. Even factoring in the type disadvantage, the weaker hoppip was toast. Between Minichino and Politoed’s orb, Jermy was able to fire off a doubly-powered Electro Ball, soaring through the air towards the hoppip. She tried to get out of the way, but…

“Aaaaah!!”

The hoppip screamed as she went down, landing in the spores she covered the ground with. She faded fast, going unconscious in just a couple seconds.

“Hope!” the crawdaunt cried. “I-I mean, Hoppip!”

Jermy jumped for joy, turning to Minichino in cheer. “Yeeaaah, we—”

Before the pikachu could even declare victory, the robotic voice of ORB coming from behind a stalagmite cut him off. “Incoming, genius.”

“What’d you mean, in—”

Sailing through the air, a dark blue blur swept through the group. In the span of a blink, Meowth had gone from studying the unconscious hoppip to being slammed against the wall of the cavern, a sharp fin pointed straight at his neck.

“I can’t trust you two to handle anything, can I?” the garchomp said to the crawdaunt, biting down on every word with his sharp teeth. “First rule of group combat: take out the healer first.”

Jermy gasped at the pinned cat, seeing his gritting teeth and hearing his desperate breaths. “Meowth! Oh no!” He quickly motioned for Minichino to supply him with another Helping Hand, but they were too slow — the crawdaunt got in the two’s way, shield lifted.

“You’re not taking down another one of us. Not as long as the Iron Wall still stands!” The crawdaunt side-eyed away from Jermy. “And that includes you two.”

That, of course, did not stop Poliwrath from trying, leaping into the fray and throwing fist after fist at the shield, just as Jermy had tried. “Dang it, c’mon…” he grunted, making no progress. Chip, on the other hand, hovered above them, the threat of crawdaunt’s open claw readied to fire bubbles into the air serving as enough of an incentive to hold back.

There was a moment of hesitation from all four of them on what to do next. Jermy was certain that would have been enough for the garchomp to rip Meowth into a bunch of tiny cat scraps — had it not been for the last-moment save…

---

This…wasn’t exactly how Mathew had planned to observe the action.

Once he had reached the end of the tunnel, the cubone had quickly realized he wasn’t going to be able to just sit around and watch what certainly sounded like a fight. If the rest of the Club saw him, it would look terrible to not immediately jump in. Worse yet, if ORB noted his behavior down, it would instantly sink his relationship with them as well. He needed a disguise — something that would buy him just a couple minutes to understand what was happening, and then act.

But where the hell was he going to get one of those? It’s not like somebody would randomly throw away a perfectly good black cloak to hide in the shadows with.

…Although, they would certainly throw away an object equally as black…

And that was the story of how Mathew donned a large plastic garbage bag that happened to be sitting in the dark. Using the sharp end of his club, he poked a pair of eye holes, then draped the whole thing over his head, leaving his feet exposed at the opening. It dragged behind him and made a fair bit of noise if he moved around too much, but it would do.

His initial test run was…surprisingly effective. After slipping out of the tunnel and leaping out of the light from the entrance and holes above, he was practically invisible to the strange humanoid pokemon and his peers. When a stream of bubbles pushed the supposed bandit towards him, he collapsed and played dead. Once that moment of tension passed, he was home free.

Mathew’s aim wasn’t for Politoed and Breloom — he wanted to see what was happening between Minichino and whoever else was fighting her. However, the tunnel leading up to where they were most likely fighting was on the other side of the river. He knew he couldn’t test his luck like that…that only left the path behind the demolished wall the bandit, Politoed, and Breloom had somehow opened up for him.

Past the wall, Mathew found a rocky, unkempt area shadowed by a ring of cliffs. The river ran through it, originating from another side tunnel leading even deeper into the cave. Right on the other side of the river, Mathew could make out a place where the rocks were harshly impacted from the landing of something above, which seemed to explain how those three got down here.

Most importantly, though, Mathew could hear the ongoing sounds of the fight very clearly as it echoed through the cavern. If he settled down in one of these shaded areas, he’d go completely undetected and could listen to whatever details he wanted. All he had to do was…get…there.

As Mathew scuttled along under his disguise, it became apparent that it wasn’t his finest piece of craftsmanship. His peripherals were completely obscured by the rims of the eye holes. Not to mention, the dim lighting of the cave made the sightlines even worse. He really hoped Minichino and the others had thought to clean the lower half of this big room, as well as the upper half they had come from. If they hadn't, trying to navigate without tripping was about to get a whole lot harder—

“Wah!”

A shrill voice cried out as Mathew felt the plastic of the bag push into his right flank. Through the eyeholes, he could vaguely make out a very familiar hat-wearing crow. Demurke was fumbling into some kind of stance. Mathew couldn’t really make the whole thing out.

“H-huh…?” She seemed confused. Surprisingly, the disguise was actually working.

“Oops, sorry, Demurke,” he said.

“M-Mathew?!” She crouched down, trying to look into the bag’s opening at his feet.

He bent down and pulled back the front of the bag so she could see his face. “Shhh shhhh.” Mathew tried to put a digit to his mouth, but ended up awkwardly bumping it into his skull mask. “You’re gonna blow my cover down here…”

Demurke tilted her head, a baffled but amused expression on her beak and eyes. “Why is your cover…a t-trash bag?”

“It’s good camouflage.” Mathew pulled the bag back over his head and slipped further into the shadows cast by the cliffs above. “You think anybody’s gonna see me slithering around here when I’m in nothing but black?”

This seemed to amuse Demurke even more. “But you c-can’t see anything either!”

“The eyeholes are good enough for what I have in mind.”

CRASH! BOOM! BANG!

The cubone looked at the commotion a floor above them. Unfortunately, the angle from here wasn’t as good for seeing and hearing the fight as he thought it would be. He could make out a few shadowy shapes dancing around each other on the walls, but that was about it. It was a shame this spot didn’t serve his purposes as well as he’d hoped.

Although…was it serving Demurke’s? “...The hell are you doing down here, anyway?” he asked, glancing back at her. “I was trying to scope out what the fight looks like so I can figure a thing or two out.”

“Well… Uh… I…” Demurke’s gaze veered off to the left of the conversation. “I-I don’t really know.”

“You don’t know?” The thought was baffling. “There’s a fight going on.”

Demurke put her wings up and backed up towards the nearby wall. “I k-know that! It’s just, I’m just…” Demurke froze. Only her outstretched wings moved, twitching slightly. “My job was…to lead them. N-not get involved.”

Mathew raised a brow. “Involved with…what?”

Demurke paused, her eyes returning to him. “OCEAN asked that we… g-get them all to the ‘bandits’ in the time it took for you to h-handle Meowth, so then you w-wouldn’t know what they looked like before they left.

Mathew looked away from the crow for a second to think. He panned his head from the ground to the ceiling. Everything was clicking into place. “They were trying to get at Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom while we looked away, weren’t they?” It was the only explanation.

Demurke stared vacantly at the cubone. “Worse.”

“But—” Dit and David…they hadn’t said anything about this during the meeting. “They—” There was grounds for OCEAN to reign Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom in, considering their odd actions and clear awareness of what they were doing…but kill them?! The whole reason the three of them were here was to help him and Joey! They were his dependable coworkers! “They don’t—”

And that’s why OCEAN didn’t tell him, wasn’t it.

The voice from the dark was right. They’d duped him, just as she said.

Mathew punched the side of his trash bag, startling Demurke out of her trance. “Look, I am too fucking pissed at too many fucking people right now to even think. But nobody I give two shits about is gonna die in some trash heap on my watch!”

Demurke gave him a ratcheted nod. “Y-Yeah. I don’t want them to…”

She didn’t want them to? But… The cubone sent a pointing finger through one of the bag’s eyeholes. “Then why are you still down here?”

“Because I-I’m…” Once again, Demurke seemed to retreat into her own head. “I’m not supposed to fight, it’d…be i-incriminating and…”

This was bad. Mathew wasn’t exactly a great fighter, considering he couldn’t take Meowth down, so if he planned to fix this whole mess, he was going to need help. But with Demurke in a state like this…

Mathew took a deep breath. It was time to put his pitching skills to the test. “Listen, Demurke,” he began. “We’re on the same page here. We don’t know if we wanna stay or go, but we also have people we care for up there. People that keep us strugglers going.”

She looked up at the dim floor above them. “Minichino’s up there…and Jermy…and M-Meowth…” She pulled the rim of her hat over her face, seeming to contemplate.

“Exactly. Without them, what will we do with ourselves?” Mathew might have been exaggerating, but showing doubt would not win her over. “But if anything OCEAN’s said is true, our job still has the fate of that Legendary War resting on it, right? If we fail them, and fail the war…” Considering the scale a Legendary War suggested… “We fail the world. And that won’t mean good things for our friends, either.”

Demurke lifted her hat and nodded. She was agreeing with him!

Mathey lifted up the edge of the bag, showing his face to her. He didn’t know exactly how close they were, but Mathew needed to remind her who she was talking to. “That’s why I’ve got the trash bag. Using this junk to our advantage…that’s the compromise. We can sabotage the mission, get everyone out of here, and OCEAN will never know it was us.”

Demurke chuckled slightly. “Guess we’re…l-lucky somebody threw this away, right?” She studied his disguise. “I d-don’t think I can do much in a trash bag, though…”

“Fair enough…” Now that Demurke was on his side, Mathew just needed to think of something for her to do. He tried to recall her fighting style. She was, what’s the word… Elusive? She tended to keep her distance and make the occasional poke. She would probably do best with a role that kept her out of OCEAN’s eyes. What if… “I know! You could airlift this bag and throw me in the action,” he suggested. “If you move fast, you could slip behind one of those rocks before anybody sees you. Then, you can just stay out of the rest if you want. Can you do that?”

Demurke suddenly brought up a wing and pushed her hat back, looking determined. “I’ll do it.”

Mathew beamed at her from underneath his soon-to-be means of travel. “That’s great! Now take the bottom of this bag and take off.”

Demurke reached a leg out and grabbed the rim of the bag in her talons. “So, um, you mean like—”

“Woah!” Mathew rolled to the new bottom of the bag as it was pulled out from under him.

“Oh, s-sorry! Do y-you need me to… slow down?”

“No, no, this is fine,” the cubone said, taking a seat. “You can fly up now.”

“Okay…”

A second later, the walls of the bag closed in on him as it stretched from his weight, barely holding him up in the air as Mathew was lifted. He was lucky it didn’t tear from the strain… After finding the eyeholes and asking Demurke to do some awkward turning, Mathew could finally see. There was Jermy, Minichino, and the poliwrath and chatot from earlier in front of some weird elongated crab — and behind the crab, there was a pokemon that Mathew could only call a ‘hammerhead guy’ about to cleave Meowth open with his fin.

Above him, he could hear Demurke mutter, “Meowth…?!”

“Why are they just standing there…?” Mathew asked himself. The answer hit him quickly. Shit! It’s bystander syndrome! He didn’t know how to feel about bailing out Meowth, but putting an end to this fight was more important to him.“Demurke, when I say go, be ready to throw!” he whispered as loudly as he could, trying to point at the OCEAN soldier by pushing at the bag with his club. “Aim for that shark dude.”

The crinkling of Demurke’s grip on the bag tightened. That’s all Mathew needed to see. He held on tight to the walls of the bag with one hand and kept a protective arm over his satchel with the other. “ Go!” He was slammed into the walls of the bag as it was flipped around, then—

THWACK!

Mathew gasped as he tumbled to the floor. That hurt like hell, but once he got his bearings, he could see the desired results. The garchomp grunted as he tried to free himself from the wall. His fins were jammed! Mathew could hear Meowth’s paws against the floor as he escaped from both of the soldiers and rejoined the others. That was one cat out of the bag…for now.

“The heck was that?!” the garchomp yelled, his head whipping around. Evidently, Demurke had darted behind a stalagmite or something before she could be spotted. Mathew slumped over, motionless. He was just an unassuming plastic bag full of garbage, nothing to see here…

He could hear the sounds of the others, freed from bystander syndrome, fighting past the crawdaunt to approach the now-unstuck garchomp. Perfect! Now all he had to do was get the two of them to run. He had a good idea just how he could make that happen, too. All he had to do was press the gun straight up through the left eye hole aaaand…

“Bleech!” the crab gagged as the purple mist overtook him and the garchomp. “That was definitely — hack! — not from Hope!” Underneath the bag, the cubone was totally safe from the poison. None of them would know it was—

“No, it wasn’t.” The garchomp’s arm came down towards the bag.

Shit. Mathew was forced to leap out of the way, narrowly avoiding having his identity revealed. The garchomp tried again, and again, and each time the cubone narrowly slipped away. These two weren’t going to juke him out that easily…or, that’s what Mathew would have thought if a pincer hadn't come from behind and yanked the trash bag right off of his head. “Eh?! Don’t tell me it was you!” the crab exclaimed.

“Damnit,” Mathew muttered, taking a slight cut from a slash of the garchomp’s fins as he escaped their clutches. The crab tried to stop his approach, but a couple pecks in the head from the Service Guild member chatot kept that from happening.

“Somehow, I had a feeling that was you,” Meowth muttered as Mathew came close.

“Don’t think I’m done with you,” Mathew muttered to Meowth before brandishing his gun towards the OCEAN soldiers. “We haven’t met before, so let me introduce myself. I’m Mathew Walker, and my life mission is to make peace — and take down baseless murderers like you.”

“Didya really have to add that last part?!” Poliwrath asked as he destroyed a stream of bubbles from the crawdaunt using a Water Gun that came from…somewhere.

The garchomp sprung over his partner in crime and came down, sweeping the floor once, then again with his fins. The first sweep tripped Minichino and Poliwrath; the second Mathew and Meowth. The cubone rose to a battle position, ready to—

“Hey, you two!”

The battle was momentarily halted by the sudden yell of an approaching gurdurr. The one Joey and the others were fighting…! And gripped in one of his hands was…

“Demurke?!” Mathew exclaimed.

“Could you two keep these fellas out of my way? I’ve got some private business to take care of with her…” Suddenly, the gurdurr chucked his weapon across the cavern. “And him!”

Mathew put his hands on his mask, searching for ears to cover from the shrill sound of the metal slamming and sliding against rock. It ended up putting a gap between the rest of the group and Jermy.

“Huh? Uh oh…waugh!” Before Jermy could react, the gurdurr broke out into a sprint and picked him up like some kind of crazed ape. He was heading towards a tunnel in the back of the cave. The garchomp and crab leapt ahead, trying to wall the group off from their presumed leader as he made a break for it.

“Don’t let him get away!” Shouting a rallying cry was Politoed, accompanied by Breloom and Joey. They were being chased by a purple cat — certainly another member of the gurdurr’s group. In seconds, both parties met up, and chaos broke out.

Mathew watched in horror as everyone else tried to charge at the soldiers all at once. Meowth and Minichino bumped into one another, dissipating the former’s Pay Day and blocking the latter from launching a move with her tail. Politoed readied a bubbly attack, only to panic from Chip gliding directly in front of him. Poliwrath and Breloom all stuttered their sprints, none of them sure who was leading their assault. In the back of the pack, Joey stopped and watched the chaos nervously, not even sure where to begin.

“Haha! You really think that display will break through the Iron Wall?” the crawdaunt proclaimed.

Damnit! Mathew could see exactly what was happening here. They completely outnumbered these bandits, but it wouldn’t mean anything if they were totally unorganized! Mathew wanted to cry out to Chip to keep back and make sure the garchomp can’t soar over them, bark at Breloom to lead and then have Poliwrath approach from another angle, and make Meowth hold the back line…but his heart was pounding, and he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. At this rate, none of them would be able to catch up to the gurdurr…!

Seeing the cat swiping at Minichino’s chest and Meowth’s arm in one fell swoop, Mathew realized there was no way they could get through these three fast enough. So, the best he could do was make sure he made it past them. But how? He’d have to pull this whole fight to the side for none of the three to notice him. He’d need a dummy of some sort…

Wait. Mathew looked around him, and on a second’s notice, a plan formed in his mind. Yes…that could work.

The cubone sprung towards the torn plastic bag and donned it, then charged obviously into the fray. He shadowed Poliwrath and Chip as they fought against the garchomp, making sure to jump around in the shadows.

“Hey, cubone, what the heck are ya doin’…?” Poliwrath shrilly whispered, taking notice of him faffing about.

“Don’t worry about it. Just keep them from getting to me,” Mathew insisted a bit too loudly.

The garchomp, of course, easily recognized the bag that had whacked and poisoned him a moment earlier. “Oh, no, you don’t!” he cried, launching forward fin-first.

“Hey, you’re fightin’ me here!” Poliwrath conjured a similar stream of bubbles to his brother’s, lobbing them in the garchomp’s face…but it didn’t stop his onslaught, cleaving through the bubbles with one fin and through Poliwrath with the other.

Confidently, the garchomp landed in front of the still plastic bag, reaching out a claw to pull the bag up. “Time to take out this piece of trash…Did you really think you could get me again with—uh?!” He gawked at who was underneath — or rather, who wasn’t. Greeting the garchomp was a small stalagmite that the bag had been draped over in the time it took to get through Poliwrath. “Shoot! He did get me again!”

Mathew, on the other hand, had already taken full advantage of the offensive distraction, sprinting through the gap in the three’s formation. He passed a grin at a stunned crawdaunt, too busy with Politoed and Breloom to stop him, and gunned straight for the tunnel.

“Math!” Breloom called out as she launched a seed at the crawdaunt’s shield. “Be careful.”

Mathew didn’t waste energy trying to reply. He knew the garchomp was fast, even if he was weakened by the poison, and any second now—

CRASH!

There he was, slamming into the cavern wall right above Mathew. Rather than take the cubone on himself, he was trying to seal the exit off by dropping rubble in front of it! Desperate, the cubone dived through the entrance. Tiny bits of rock clanked off of his skull mask, but he made it through just in time.

Mathew coughed as he landed and rose to his feet, dust from the rubble all around him…but in seconds, it faded, and he was alone in the dark tunnel. The fight outside was muffled by the newly-formed wall, but Mathew could just barely make out a “Gah! That slippery cubone…” coming from the garchomp on the other side.

There was no going back now. He’d made those OCEAN soldiers into his enemy, and now they’d sealed him in with their leader. Mathew’s future career with them was all but certainly gone. But right now, Mathew had lost the will to care. He agreed to work for them because he had been promised a peaceful future, but that had turned out to be a bust.

The light had brought danger to himself and his friends. So, Mathew charged into the darkness. He wasn’t convinced it would bring him salvation, either…but now, it was the only way forward.

Chapter 22: Red

Chapter 21: Red

Mathew stumbled, tripping over every little stone in the dark corridor of the cavern. Each time he did, the aching in his feet worsened. It’d be so easy to give out now, but no amount of exhaustion could keep the image of that hulking gurdurr from spurring him forward. He put the brunt of his fists, clutching his bone club and the satchel, against the wall to get his bearings as he climbed.

Going after the gurdurr alone was a bad idea, in hindsight. He was running on only a week’s worth of training, and it showed. But he couldn’t just stand there and watch as Jermy and Demurke were carried away. These OCEAN soldiers had come here to kill his friends. Mathew would never let that happen.

Never again.

Slowly, the pitch-black of the cavern brightened. When Mathew made one more turn, the exit revealed itself, pouring light onto him. He was close. He could feel it. He could hear it.

“...really think I’d be stupid enough to not figure out what’s going on here?”

In faded the gruffy voice of the gurdurr as Mathew approached. He stood at the edge of a wide platform that overlooked the lower floor of the cavern, illuminated by an opening in the ceiling. It was suspended precariously over a bed of stalagmites, only interrupted by the river carving a path between the spikes. Large rocks littered the space between him and Mathew.

The tall gurdurr’s hands gripped the two recruiters tightly. Jermy, in his right arm, was suspended past the edge — if his grip came undone now, the pikachu would fall into the hard stone. Held out of danger in the other arm was Demurke. The gurdurr’s breaths were heavy, and his stance slouched. He had set his steel beam aside, next to some other weapon Mathew couldn’t get a good look at.

“B-Big Timmy!” Demurke cried. “You’ve g-gotta stop this!”

Big Timmy, huh? Demurke knew this person by name… Mathew slowed his pace to a careful tiptoe and hid himself behind a rock to the side. If this gurdurr noticed him too soon, he might consider it a reason to drop Jermy. In the meantime, he’d wait and listen.

“And let you traitors run all willy-nilly? Not a chance, bird.”

“Traitors? We haven’t d-done anything wrong! The plan just went—”

“You know what? No. I’m sick of not speaking my mind.” Despite being squeezed like a stress toy, Jermy’s snappiness was more pronounced than it had ever been. “Yeah, I’m the one who messed with your plans! Sorry that I got tired of saying nothing while the company’s gone around killing people left and right. Consider this my official resignation from OCEAN!”

So that was what this was all about. No wonder Jermy was so resistant when Dit introduced the plan. If he had just told them the truth before they reached this cave, Mathew wouldn’t have gone along with it either.

Big Timmy scoffed. “Resignation from life, more like it. Look where you are! Those spiky rocks down there would do a number on anybody, short-stuff.”

“Better than living the rest of my life knowing I have blood on my hands!”

“Aww, now I feel bad for poor David over in the science division. Has he always had to hide how much of a wimp you really are?” Big Timmy stretched his arm even further out. “You’re going right down the same path as that lousy sister of yours. Too bad you don’t have nearly the voice she did. Who’s gonna be leading your fight when they see your tombstone?”

The grin Mathew could see on that gurdurr’s face sent a flash of fury through him. The cubone leaned out—

“I...I would!”

Big Timmy paused as he glanced at the murkrow in his other arm. Mathew recoiled back under his cover.

“I’m sorry, Jermy! I d-didn’t want them to die, either! I just...I didn’t know what to do.” There were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

Jermy’s ears sank. The murkrow’s sorrow mellowed his passion.

“Oh, so you admit it!” Big Timmy brought both arms together, holding them both over. “Honestly, you two have no sense of loyalty. Especially you,” he said to Demurke. “It’s kind of sad. I wonder how your parents will feel if I told them what you’ve been doing?”

Suddenly, Demurke was struggling intensely in his grip. “No, no no no no, please don’t…!” she cried.

“Well, I can’t just toss a bird off a cliff, can I? Have to see to your punishment too somehow.” Big Timmy turned his attention back to Jermy. “But first…”

His hand loosened.

Shit. Mathew had to act now.

The cubone pried the Whirlwind Wand from his satchel and sprung from the rock. “And here I thought OCEAN had some fucking standards!” he yelled.

Big Timmy peered over his shoulder. “Eh? Who the—?”

It was just the distraction Jermy needed. The second the gurdurr’s eyes flicked away, Jermy fired a surprise bolt at his face. He gasped and flailed his arms, but the pikachu clung on and flung himself toward the ledge. Demurke fluttered away, freed from his grasp.

“The garchomp caved in the exit! It’s just the three of us now!” The moment they were out of the way, Mathew punctuated his sentence with a swing of his Wand at Big Timmy.

Big Timmy’s eyes widened as he dodged the controlled gust. The wind whistled as it soared over the rocks and petered out. The gurdurr heaved a little “Heh, Garchomp would,” as he regained his composure.

“So you heard all that, huh? Looks like the jig’s up then.” He stared Mathew down with mismatched eyes. “Name’s Timothy, if you didn’t catch it. They used to call me Little Timmy, but, well, then I got big. Big enough to use one of these!”

When he reached down, it wasn’t his girder that he picked up.

Before Mathew could react, wings and mousey hands shoved him behind another rock. His large toe-claws raked the ground as he was pushed to safety. Behind the three, a stream of rock pellets shot through the air. Some struck the cavern wall, while others clattered against the ground.

“What the hell?” Mathew wasn’t familiar with this species, but he was pretty sure they couldn’t do that.

“It’s a rifle imbued with a rock type stone!” Jermy whispered shrilly. “They left one here in case they got backed into a corner!”

“I-I’ll try to distract him.” Demurke launched herself into the air without giving them a chance to object.

The rat-tat-tat of the weapon echoed through the cave. Mathew peeked around the rock and watched as Demurke circled Big Timmy, too close to shoot but too far to punch. She needed an opening, quick — and there was only one of them whose attacks would be enough of a nuisance.

Mathew kneeled down, tilting his mask downward. “Jermy, come on,” he muttered.

“Huh? Oh!” Jermy got the picture and used Mathew as a makeshift stepstool. The two of them together were just tall enough for Jermy’s head to clear their cover. He lobbed sparks of lightning over the top, sending them flying from his fingertips like a mad wizard.

Mathew could only gather the outcome by sound. A swish of Demurke’s wings. A loud grunt from Big Timmy. Another round of pellets. A yelp, followed by a crash down.

The stomping as he stormed their hiding spot.

“Gotcha!”

Mathew had no escape. Jermy had time to leap off of his shoulders, out of the way of the weapon, but all the cubone could do was face the rifle head-on.

A stream of stones battered his head in waves. Mathew cried out as he stumbled backward, each impact rattling him more. The only thing that kept him from falling over was his skull mask softening the impact. Rushing for an answer, he reached into his satchel and traded his Wand for the poison gun.

Wrong move. The second it was in the open, Big Timmy changed targets. One, two, three rocks smacked against the brittle barrel of the tool. Just like that, the weapon was ruined.

“Damnit — agh!”

The gurdurr lunged at Mathew, shoving him away with a kick to the chest. Jermy went in for a metallic tail smack, but Big Timmy punted him with his free hand, too.

“Dit put in a good word ‘bout your craft,” he said. “Told me your gun was way more creative than mine. Too bad it was really just a hunk of junk!”

Big Timmy’s insults ended when Demurke rushed him from behind. With a swipe at his back, she forced him into a close-quarters brawl. Mathew watched from his back as Demurke evaded fist after fist, making the gurdurr earn his blows.

As he crawled away, the cubone saw something that Big Timmy’s fervent confidence had been hiding from them. His sloppy stance, his weak punches, his heavy breathing… Big Timmy looked exhausted. And yet he kept pushing himself, refusing to let the murkrow overwhelm him. A hammer arm when she fluttered above him. A low kick when she dove near the floor. He kept refocusing his energy and held strong.

Demurke seemed unfazed. She played a patient game, letting him win small a hit here and there, waiting for him to make a mistake. Her expression was almost blank from focus.

After a few trades, the aggressive gurdurr made one. Big Timmy stepped back, aimed, and shot more pebbles at her. Demurke was ready for it, flipping out of his line of fire.

Deep purple energy gleaned off of the tips of her wing, shading them like the night. Mathew stared at the dark glow — he had never seen her use this move before.

She flew under his arm.

Slash.

Big Timmy groaned, doubling over. Demurke landed, looked back…and all at once, her iron focus broke. She gasped in shock as she studied her own handiwork with beaded eyes.

Blood oozed from his wound.

The gurdurr stared at his own chest. For a second, all of them did. The air in the cave changed — and it wasn’t just the introduction of a metal scent. Past their own adrenaline, a new tension seeped onto the platform.

OCEAN had sent them here with the intent for people to die. But even when Mathew saw the bandits fight, it all seemed weightless. That impression was gone now.

Big Timmy was the first to come to his senses, slamming his body into Demurke and sending her bounding across the rocks. The murkrow’s stoic composure completely vanished — when she rose, her talons trembled, and she made no attempt to avoid the next round of rock shots. Mathew and Jermy got back on their feet, but faster than they could react, Big Timmy grabbed her and slammed her back against a stone.

It’d been a long time since a scream had caused the cubone to even wince—

A yell filled the house as her back was pressed against the hard-wood floor of their kitchen. “Shit! Hey, hey put that thing down! Mathew—”

—but Demurke’s cry was enough to make him lurch.

“Demurke, lay low for a bit!” Jermy called out. An electric shock surged between her and Big Timmy, separating them. “We’ll be fine!”

Demurke wordlessly obeyed, and with a burst of wind, she flew up through the hole casting light into the cave, out of their reach.

Big Timmy growled in anger. “You buncha wimps!” he yelled. “Can’t even take what you dish out!” With a sudden burst of speed, the bleeding gurdurr jumped at Jermy.

The pikachu was too slow to avoid getting kicked by the large pokemon, splaying him out on the ground back first. Big Timmy looked down on Jermy, then made his move. He pulled his front end of his weapon back

 

and for a second, everything was still. Mathew realized, too late, what was about to happen. He tried to call out Jermy’s name, but nothing came out.

 

Big Timmy swung the barrel of his rifle

right into her head.

 

She hit the kitchen floor hard, motionless. The bandit stared down at his own handiwork, clutching the nail-covered bat.

 

In the blink of an eye, Mathew’s world came rising up — memories, feelings, dreams — and crashed down. His own screams, distant to him now, echoed through the house.

 

“OH MY GOD! LAURA!”

 

The next thing he knew, the bandit was disarmed, trembling underneath the gaze of his firearm.

 

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! GET OUUUUUT!”

 

Mathew didn’t know why he didn’t take the coward’s life then.

 

He should have.

 

But Laura… She didn’t get up. He needed to call someone, anyone who could help.

 

He passed by her, making for a phone

but curiosity and concern got to the best of him, and

 

Oh god

Oh god

 

Why did he look down

Why did he look down

Why did he look down

Why did he look down

 

Why

 

 

 

Mathew fell to his hands and knees. His arms quivered, barely keeping himself from collapsing. The sound of his own heart’s pounds were deafening.

Big Timmy’s battle-worn body loomed over him. “The heck’s wrong with you?” Between huffs, he poked Mathew’s back with that rifle. “Come on. I put my neck on the line for this fight and you’re cheapin’ out on me? You could at least pretend like you’ve got some fight in you left.”

Mathew mustered the energy to raise his head. Jermy was splayed out on the floor, but aside from some bruises, he wasn’t any more hurt than that. He would be okay.

…But that didn’t change this tension in his chest…

His club lay next to him, right in arm’s length. When he reached for it, the trembling faded. Everything he felt that day rippled on the surface of his mind — and now, all of it fueled a deep, burning rage.

“Hey, there we go! I knew you still had it in you! Keep gettin’ up and we can—gaaagh!”

Before Big Timmy finished, Mathew had stabbed at him with the club’s sharp end. It grazed the gurdurr’s leg, tearing his flesh. It was quickly coated in crimson, like the wound in his side.

His enemy shifted his weight to the other leg and swung low with his fist. Mathew stepped aside, letting the punch graze his masked muzzle. He jabbed at his other leg with full force.

Big Timmy’s attempt to evade ended with his club clipping his heel. He howled from the pain.

The gurdurr was crumpling like paper. Each strike pierced more easily than the last. It’d only take a few more.

He drove his foot into the cubone, pinning him to the ground. The club rolled away, just out of reach. Blood from his foot trickled onto his crushed side.

“Y-You think you’re freakin’ tough, huh?!” He put the muzzle of his rifle under his nose, beneath his mask.

Mathew wriggled under Big Timmy’s weight, putting his hand into the satchel squished against between chest and sole. Deeper, deeper, deeper…there.

He flicked the Whirlwind Wand. The blast knocked the gurdurr back — and loosed the rifle from his hands. It slammed into the wall and crumpled on impact, rendering it as useless as Mathew’s.

Big Timmy barely kept himself from falling over. His knees wobbled, prepared to buckle from exhaustion, but he refused to give in. The sea of stalagmites at the bottom of the cliff backdropped his bloodied body as he clenched his fists. Mathew rolled to his feet and brandished his Wand.

They leapt at one another. The punch and the Wand collided.

An explosion of roaring wind launched both of them away. Streaks of something colorful spread across Mathew’s mask.

There was a scream.

And then there was silence.

---

At this stage of the fight, Joey wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

Liepard, the bandit he had been fighting earlier, was no slouch. Even now, she was handily taking on Politoed, Poliwrath, and Chip all at once without much effort. Her claws blocked fist after fist, then slashed upward to pop the bubbles and keep the bird away. Joey wanted to help, but the claw marks on his maw reminded him that it wouldn’t end well.

The other two bandits, on the other hand, were losing their lusters. The longer the fight went on, the more that Breloom, ORB, Meowth, and Minichino’s attacks landed. The crocodile imagined it wasn’t easy to respond to a tail slap to the face when it was followed by two sets of claws.

Joey was left to pick between joining a fight he stood no chance in and joining a fight that was already winding down. Neither option inspired confidence in him, especially after he failed to stop Jermy and Demurke from being taken away. So, he decided the best thing he could do was take a moment to watch these mysterious foes from afar.

Even with Mathew, Jermy, and Demurke missing, the rest of them could easily defeat the worn-down trio of bandits. It was only a matter of time at this point.

He could tell that the bandits had noticed, too. Between attacks, Liepard’s eyes sweeped around the cave, her mind churning. Then…

“Garchomp! Crawde!” She suddenly pivoted and broke into a sprint towards the crocodile. “We’re done here.”

“What?! After all this effort—hrrk! You wanna retreat?” Despite the fervor in Garchomp’s voice, he looked like he could hardly hold himself up.

“They haven’t given us much of a choice,” Liepard remarked. She lunged forward with her sharp claws, forcing Joey out of the way. He braced himself for a follow-up, but it never came. Instead, she passed him, making a beeline for the unconscious plant pokémon nearby.

“But what about Big Timmy?! He needs the Iron Wall’s protection!” The crab was faltering so much that he seemed like neither iron nor a wall. Big Timmy… Was that the gurdurr’s name? Joey could only assume.

“He can find his way back on his own! If any of us could do that, it’s him. Let’s move!”

Liepard picked up her unconscious ally with her mouth. The other two bandits pulled away from their fights, making a hobbling, stumbling break for the exit. The purple cat pushed the two poisoned pokémon along, practically carrying the entire group herself.

“They’re getting away!” Chip exclaimed, soaring over the others. “Sire, after them!” He glided towards them, giving chase.

“Sure that’s a good idea?” Politoed asked, bending over. “Both of you look tired, and that liepard handled three of us at once already.”

“Takin’ care of guys like these is what we do!” Poliwrath had already taken off. “If y’all don’t wanna come, then be mah guest, Toed!” With that, the pair split off from them.

Politoed could only sigh in disappointment. “Off he goes again… Didn’t even stop to heal up.” He gestured to Meowth, requesting an oran berry. Meowth seemed a bit disgruntled, but tossed him one anyway.

Again? “Do y’all know him?” Joey asked.

“Can explain that later, Joey,” he said, shrugging it off as he downed the berry. He looked to the collapsed tunnel entrance. “Gotta help them first.”

Minichino was crawling around on the floor of the cave, eyes fixated downward like a sunflower to its namesake. “C’mon, c’mon… Where did it go?!”

Meowth gave a concerned look toward the chinchilla. “Did you lose your Tunnel Wand?”

“I dropped it somewhere while we were fighting!” Minichino exclaimed, exasperated. “Don’t tell me it fell over the cliff!”

“Looking for this?”

Minichino turned to her side and gasped. Away from everyone else, ORB was clutching the Tunnel Wand in his claw.

“ORB! Dude! You’re my hero!” She sprinted up to him and picked him up, whirling him around in a tight hug.

“You’re lucky it didn’t crumble into dust.” The robot said, forcing the hug apart by shoving the Wand between them. “In any case, you should focus on saving Jermy.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan!” Minichino grabbed the Wand and waved it toward the collapsed tunnel entrance.

A gray light soared through the air. When it phased into the rubble, the stones broke down to dust and settled, exposing the entrance.

“Woah…” Joey gawked at the display. “A little Wand can just do that?”

“Sure can!” Minichino exclaimed, already on the move. “Now let’s get going!”

Without another word, everybody followed Minichino into the cramped passageway. Joey was the last one into the pitch-black tunnel, but Meowth slowed down to guide him through.

There was no telling how well or poorly Mathew and the others were faring. For all they knew, they were still mid-battle, and they had a whole ‘nother fight ahead of them. The crocodile braced himself.

But there was no need. When they arrived at the platform, the scene before them was devoid of action. The fight was over.

“Oh shoot, Jermy’s down!” cried Minichino. Some paces away, the rodent was laying down, unconscious. Meowth was already coming to his rescue, a reviver seed in hand.

Joey glanced at their recruiter…and then, when he turned dead ahead, he saw them.

Mathew and Demurke stood the edge of the cliff, looking out over the long bed of stalagmites below. They weren’t talking — they hardly even paid the rest of the Club mind. The girder Big Timmy had been using laid on the ground next to the two.

Joey warily stepped closer. “Mathew…?”

The two whipped their heads toward the crocodile. Demurke’s eyes were wide, and her breathing sounded heavy and erratic. Her whole body was shaking. Behind his dark goggles, Mathew’s expression was concealed.

Splotches of red coated his mask.

Joey gasped. “W-What happened?”

Mathew didn’t answer him. “Don’t come any closer to the edge,” he ordered with a flat tone. Then he looked to the others, still occupied with Jermy. “And make sure Minichino doesn’t, either.”

“What, you think we’re gonna fall off?” Minichino retorted. Her smarmy grin faded when she saw the reptile herself.

A look of disbelief swept over Politoed’s face. “You didn’t…” He slowly approached the pair.

Demurke buried her face in her hat and stepped away, making room at the cliff’s edge for him and Breloom. She didn’t say anything to them.

Breloom peered over the edge and gasped. “Oh,” she muttered. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Wha—!” Jermy launched into a sitting position in front of Meowth, reanimated by a reviver seed. “Guys? Did we win…?”

“One way to say it.” Politoed grimaced. “Guess he made it him or you, huh?”

Mathew nodded. “That’s about what it came down to. Uh…” He seemed at a loss for more words.

“It’s self-defense then. Unfortunate, but not a crime.” He slathered his own hand with a gentle Water Gun, then cleaned the red off of his mask. “Still…” he glanced at the pit below, taking a breath. “What happens next is going to be ugly.”

The frog’s reaction convinced Joey that he would be much better off if he listened to Mathew and didn’t come any closer. The uneasy atmosphere, the worried looks, and the horrible stench of iron in the air was enough for him. Not to mention…

Why did Mathew seem so…calm?

Breloom was the one to break the tension. “We don’t have time to waste,” she said, already pacing back the way they came. “All of us are about to have trouble nipping at our tails if we don’t get out of here now.”

“She’s right,” Meowth said, next to follow suit. He wasn’t looking at Breloom when he said that, but Mathew. Had he noticed his calmness, too?

As the group began to file out of the cave, the pair watched as Mathew walked over and picked two things up from the ground: the poison gun, broken, and another busted weapon. With some work and some banging on a nearby rock, the cubone pried both type stones from the weapons. “Do we have to un-imbue these?” he asked.

It took a second for Joey to realize he was talking to him. That was the question he wanted to ask right now? “Oh, uh, I thought David said the imbue stops if they get split up,” the crocodile mumbled.

Mathew nodded, seeming to remember that advice now. “Right. Thanks.” He was still wearing those dark goggles. It was hard to see at a distance, but they were coated in something Joey couldn’t recognize.

How could he even see like that…?

Chapter 23: The Confrontation

Chapter 22: The Confrontation

When Joey had arrived to Misery Cave, there was a tension in the air that none of the Club could shake. The crocodile couldn’t have imagined how much more tense the atmosphere would be now.

A number of big problems hung over the group’s head. Aside from the obvious, Demurke was no longer with them. The moment Politoed told them where they would all have to go now that they had turned the knife on OCEAN, the crow took flight towards Kalmwa’er on her own without another word. Her awkward departure punctuated Poliwrath and Chip’s failure to apprehend the remaining bandits, who had scaled the cliffside with their remaining strength and disappeared into the shade of Pawalmtry Forest. But what sat at the front of Joey’s mind was Mathew. Joey kept passing glances at him, waiting for him to yell, to cry, to give a mad laugh…any kind of reaction to what’s just happened. But he remained ever-stoic and calm in a way that Joey was unfamiliar with.

He still had those goggles, too. The only time he had taken them off was to dip them into the river to clean them. Joey was sure that hypnotizing Mathew would be the last thing on Meowth’s mind right now. How long was he going to keep wearing those?

Fortunately, the buggy had gone untouched throughout this ordeal, so the group still had a ride back to town. It was a tight fit — Meowth and Minichino were squished on the sides of Poliwrath, and Chip was forced to glide along with the vehicle — but they would manage, somehow. Joey was left to the back row with the other humans and ORB. For a moment, they all sat still, listening to the roar of the engine.

“I just don’t get it.” Joey’s hands dug into the seat cushions as he broke the silence. “What were those bandits even doing in that cave?”

Minichino craned her neck back. “You haven’t figured it out already? Those weren’t bandits, dude. Those were OCEAN soldiers, disguised as bandits, coming over to kick our butts.”

“Hah?” OCEAN soldiers? But that didn’t make any sense. This whole plan only involved him, Mathew, Jermy, and Demurke. He looked to the pikachu. “That’s not true…is it?”

Much to the crocodile’s dismay, Jermy nodded. “They’re right. The plan had two parts — you, me, and Mathew would handle Meowth, and Demurke and everyone else would take out the others. If it worked, you guys would’ve never seen who did the dirty work, and we could write it off as the geodudes or a rogue bandit group.”

“It would also serve as a warning to Meowth, on top of whatever Mathew would do,” ORB piped up from Jermy’s lap. “Needless to say, somebody didn’t like that plan. Otherwise, at least three of your corpses would’ve been shipped off for processing.”

“But why?!” Joey exclaimed. “Why would they wanna hurt Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom?”

“Well, probably because they figured out I was totally stabbing them in the back by leaking their stuff to their enemies,” Minichino said in a completely casual tone. “That’d probably do it.”

Meowth was quick to cut in, leaning forward to talk around Poliwrath. “So, what was that about you not being noticed if I did your dirty work for you?”

“We didn’t think they would know! Guess they were ahead of the game or something.”

Joey was left stunned. He got the impression that the other Club members were up to something, trying to sway him and Mathew to leave OCEAN, but he had no idea just how willing the group had been to get their hands dirty. And somehow, they had figured out that all of this was a part of OCEAN’s plan? “How the heck…”

“Joe,” Breloom said, her voice carrying from the driver’s seat. “You remember when I gave Gurd— or, Big Timmy, I guess, that uppercut?”

That moment stuck out pretty strongly in the totodile’s mind. “Yeah. You knocked out a color contact. I reckon he was wearing black ones…”

“Wearing ones that match his species’ natural eye color,” Politoed clarified. “Like how your species’ eyes are usually red, a gurdurr’s are black. Color contacts like those are popular because they help people like us stand out from the rest of our kind…because we all have the same natural eye color.”

“Unless, say, you happened to have been human originally,” Breloom said. “In that case, you keep your eye color from then.”

Meowth’s ears perked up. “I see what you’re getting at.” He peered at Joey. “That explains their weird eyes.”

Mathew idly played with his goggles as they rested over his mask. “So you’re saying that you all knew that they were human the whole time.”

“Wait a darn second!” Joey exclaimed. “If a totodile’s eyes are supposed to be red, and I’ve been moseying around with brown ones, then y’all must’ve already known I was human before I said so!”

“Wait,” Mathew cut in. “You told them we were human?”

…Maybe he should’ve thought first before he spoke. “Uh, sorry, Mathew…”

“Don’t get too upset with him,” Politoed advised. “Breloom, Minichino, and I peer-pressured him into it a little. Wanted him to have our trust.”

Suddenly, Meowth spoke up. “So how long are you guys going to dance around explaining yourselves? Whatever you three have been trying to do nearly got us all killed, and you still haven’t told us what it was.”

“It seemed crystal clear to me!” Jermy said. “You guys are trying to fight back against OCEAN, right?”

“More to the story than that, obviously,” Politoed said. “You see, Breloom and I are a part of this little group. Minichino technically isn’t because we hadn’t met until joining the Club, but with how big of a help she’s been, she basically is now.” Politoed smiled in response to Minichino beaming at him.

Breloom followed him up. “We know that OCEAN has been manipulating the Great Legendary War from the sidelines and is preparing to get involved. Moreover, they’ve been secretly abducting dozens of hapless humans, rendering them amnesiacs, and training them to be a part of their fighting force.” She raked one of her claws against the wheel idly. “Our job is to protect as many lives as we can by busting that operation.”

“So you were never here for the trash, then…” Joey was beginning to realize just how little he actually knew about Politoed, Breloom, and Minichino’s lives. What else had they been keeping a secret?

“Are you kidding, dude?!” Minichino sounded offended. “Of course I was here for the trash! At least, when I wasn’t helping with Politoed’s stuff. Heck, I’m the reason the non-recruitment part of your day was all about cleaning dungeons! Even with OCEAN breathing down my neck, I’m not gonna let them take away my ability to make the world a better place!”

“And to be clear,” Breloom added, “Meowth helped us get all the information we need to make a case. The reason we stuck around longer really was to help you.”

The crocodile sighed in relief. At least it wasn’t all a lie…

“Was becoming my roommates in Higher Ed part of getting on their good side?” Meowth asked.

“Nah, just a heck of a coincidence. Breloom and I didn’t know about OCEAN when we first enrolled, much less knew they had their roots in Kalmwa’er.” Politoed shook his head. “Not everything is a conspiracy…”

“HA!” Poliwrath, who had previously seemed content to let the former Club members talk around him, gave a guffaw. “Based on everything I’m hearing from you lot, that’s pretty rich! All this junk about OCEAN and ASHES and the Legendary War and—”

“Wait.” It was Jermy who interrupted him. “ASHES?”

Poliwrath pointed a finger at the passenger’s seat. “That’s the name for this piece of work’s ‘group’.”

“Means ‘Association for Stopping Humans from Ending Solceus’. Pretty corny, but the name’s not our call,” Politoed explained.

“...Why does that name sound so much like—?”

“Hey, Jermy, hold that thought.” Breloom slammed on the brakes, making everyone in the buggy lurch. They had made it to the edge of town. “Mathew, let’s switch out.”

Before leaving, all of them had agreed to divide and conquer. It was almost certain at this point that they were going to have to vacate Kalmwa’er to get as far away from OCEAN as possible. However, they still needed to pack their belongings, as the journey to a safer location could be lengthy. Since OCEAN knew that was where the humans lived, it was most likely that they would go to Meowth’s condo first after they found out what transpired in Misery Cave. Thus, Mathew, Joey, and Meowth would have to go there and throw the group’s possessions into the buggy as quickly as they could, with one of the Service Guild members accompanying them for protection.

As for the others, they would all walk to Kalmwa’er Town Hall, the base of operations for the Service Guild. Politoed explained that coordinating an escape from OCEAN would require the help of its guildmaster. Ideally, by the time the four of them returned, they would have a plan in mind. Jermy and Demurke were also supposed to come with them to prove their trustworthiness as former recruiters… They could only hope Demurke had flown off to get there first.

“Meet us at Town Hall in ninety minutes. If you’re late, we’ll go looking for you.” Breloom dangled the keys to the buggy in her claw, then tossed them to Mathew. She gestured to a long, sloping path that led to the top half of town. “Try not to crash again, okay?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Mathew hopped into the buggy, then patted the passenger’s seat. “Come on. You don’t have to stay in the back, Joey.”

“...You’re sure?” Joey was a little surprised. He needed a little nod from the cubone to affirm what he was saying. After all that talk about traitors in the past, Mathew hardly seemed bothered by Joey intervening in his attack on Meowth earlier. Just what was going on here…?

As they drove off, the last thing Joey could hear from the other party was the sound of Jermy crying out “She’s alive?!” He had no idea what that meant.

It didn’t take long for Joey to miss the distractive noise of their other friends’ chatter. It had momentarily drowned out the nightmare that they had all been drawn into. Now that it was just him, Mathew, Meowth, and that parrot Chip, the tension was all they had. Joey was desperate to broach the subject on something, anything — but he was still so hesitant. How in the world do you even start a conversation like this?

Aside from the occasional yell to get pokémon to move out of the way of the buggy, none of the them shared a word until they finally arrived in front of Meowth’s condo. “I’ll stay out here and make sure nobody’s coming our way,” Chip informed them as Mathew parked. “If you need any help with the luggage, say the word.”

“We’ll probably be fine,” Meowth asserted as he hopped out of the buggy and crossed the yard. He was probably right — Joey and Jermy hadn’t brought in anything besides themselves into the condo, so Mathew’s backpack and Meowth’s belongings were all they would need to carry.

The moment the three of them stepped through the front door, Joey felt his whole body decompress. It was as if all of the adrenaline that had sustained him through the past hour or so had spilled out of him like a busted bag. There was something about the strange but pleasant scent that permeated the condo that made the crocodile feel at-ease.

He tried not to think about the fact that this might be the last time they would be here for a long time.

“I’m going to box up some things from my room,” Meowth declared, already drifting for the door. “Joey, can you stay out here in the living room while I pack up? I might need some help carrying it after it’s in boxes.”

Joey thought about asking Mathew if he needed help before accepting…but that idea didn’t really sound good right now. “Yeah, of course.”

“Give me a bit, lemme get my shit…” Mathew was already in the middle of picking up his box-shaped game console and carrying it upstairs.

While he waited for Meowth and Mathew, Joey collapsed onto the couch with a long sigh. He was so tired of fighting. It wasn’t just those bandits or stopping Mathew or Meowth — he was always fighting. Fighting his own weaknesses, trying to become a better battler… Fighting the conflicts between the Club members, trying to help them get along… Fighting himself, trying to decide what path he was on. Everything about his week on Solceus had been exhausting.

That was when he remembered what he had slid underneath the couch he was laying on. Mathew would be real unhappy with himself if we didn’t take this with us… Joey pulled it out from the couch, patted the dust off, and before he could tell himself to resist the urge, he was already flipping pages, searching for the truth behind a life he didn’t know. There was nothing new, of course — he was just desperate.

All that is to say, good or bad…you’re pretty special.

You should take things one step at a time. Maybe you could focus more on cracking that noggin, if you can. Not having memories is a pretty big deal.

Whatever is going on in your corner of the world, the three of us are here to listen and help.

It was all so obvious, now. Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom all knew exactly what OCEAN was trying to make them become. They had done everything they could from their position to give the two of them an out. They were saving them — saving him. But all he ended up doing was resigning himself to the hope that OCEAN’s promises would be enough to bring Mathew back to his senses. What a stupid plan that was! Look what he had happened when he twiddled his thumbs and let the world crash down around—

…What?

Joey had put his fingers down the sleeve of a photo of himself and Mathew’s unmentioned child without thinking, but when he did that, he felt something weird. He raked his finger against the edges to prove he wasn’t imagining it, and he could clearly feel it. There were two photos inside this sleeve, one blocking the other. Joey couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it until now — the back photo was a bit bigger, so he could see its white margins even while the front photo was blocking it.

Joey pried it out without hesitation. What he found was a photo of a half-dozen people standing together. There was Mathew, his mother, and his father, as well as three more people. There were two of them he didn’t recognize — an older man with graying blond hair and a woman wearing a formal jacket. The third was that red-haired woman he’d seen earlier. Even here, she looked like she was having more fun than anybody else with that mad-looking grin of hers. Joey had to wonder if that rabbit plushie with the cute tophat and bowtie was what made her smile that way.

Why did Mathew hide this photo? Him and his parents being here felt…important in some way Joey couldn’t understand. If Jermy or Meowth or David or Dit or Emily hadn’t distracted the two of them for so long, maybe Joey would have already known the answer.

He was so tired. He had to lay this to rest.

Just then, he heard footsteps slowly stomp down the stairs. Once he reached the bottom, Mathew laid his backpack down. “Phew…” Mathew panted, looking to Joey. “Hey Joey, can you help me carry this? It’s no lighter than it used to be.”

“Mathew.” Joey put the photo back in the scrapbook and set it down on the table before standing up. “Are we really gonna keep acting like nothing happened in there? That we didn’t have that fight?”

Mathew seemed stunned, then deflated a little. “I didn’t know if learning what OCEAN was doing had changed your mind.” He moved away from the backpack, coming towards him.

“We shouldn’t have run off and tried to fight Meowth,” he asserted, looking Mathew as firmly in the eyes as those goggles could allow. “We shouldn’t have gotten all roped up in any of this. I was real stupid for not speaking up until it was almost too late.”

Mathew reached out to touch his shoulder. “Joey—”

The memory of him looking so fierce flashed in his mind, and reflexively, Joey swatted his arm away. “Don’t you come here comforting me like you weren’t the one going all in on this!” he exclaimed. “If you hadn’t pushed us on this job so hard — if we’d gotten out when Minichino handed it to us on a silver platter — none of this would have happened! And you had me strung along the whole time because you just can’t treat any of this like it’s real!”

“Joey, I get it, I—”

“I really don’t reckon you do.” Joey couldn’t stop himself at this point — all of the feelings he had left pent up were coming undone now. “You sure didn’t think much when you were talking with Dit about all the ways you could snap Meowth’s bones. How about when you beat up that fish in front of a huge crowd? Or when the others had to reign you in after you started chasing after those sand castle guys? Heck, on our first day, you drove the buggy through the middle of town and barely even had a care in the world!” Joey picked up the open scrapbook in one hand. “But any time we ever try to deal with our problems, suddenly you get all clammy. Like when we talk about my parents, or our jobs, or Meowth, or this.” Joey put it straight in Mathew’s face, forcing him to see the photo of him and these mysterious people.

Mathew clasped the top of the book and pushed it down to meet his firm gaze. “Joey, listen. Later, when Meowth and Chip aren’t around—”

“It’s always later with you!” Joey dropped the scrapbook back onto the table. “After we found out we could use that machine of yours to get my memories back, I really thought things were gonna get better for you and me. But now look. You…” His voice withered. “You killed somebody, Mathew. And you hardly even look bothered about it.”

Mathew seemed hesitant, standing there silently for a few seconds. Then, the wrath Joey was more familiar with finally spilled forth. “If you were worried about me killing someone, Joey, you’re about two years too fucking late,” he spat.

Too late…? “What?”

“You wanna find out how I knew your parents, huh?” He slammed his hand down on the scrapbook. “Two years ago, I met your dad. When I called the police that night, he was the one who answered.” He pulled out the photo, then put it in Joey’s face, imitating his own motion. “A couple months later, I started working with him and Catherine in this group right here. We were all there to do the same thing — to bring some sanity back to the world and take care of people like Big Timmy. I came up with and built all sorts of machines to be used all over the Western States to apprehend…and to eliminate, if needed.”

The crocodile gasped. His mother and father were a part of a group so violent? “Why would you ever join something like that?”

“You don’t know what pieces of shit like them are capable of, Joey!” he yelled. “If it gives them even the slightest leg up in the world, they will take and take and take. They took from everyone… They took from my friends… They took from me.”

“...From you?” Something clicked for Joey just then. Mathew’s wife, and his kid…he had always wondered why they weren’t here with them on Solceus.

“YES!” he screamed, throwing his arms out. “Why the hell do you think I came here instead of staying on Earth? There’s nothing LEFT for me!” he slammed a fist on the table. “NOTHING. Nothing at…fucking all.”

Joey was about to cut in, but he was stopped by the waver in Mathew’s voice — and the tears swelling up in his eyes.

“I think about Laura every day, Joey…how she looked when she died…the way it felt when Greg told me they couldn’t find that monster…and it makes me so upset, and angry—” Mathew collapsed onto the couch. That flicker of fury faded into a deep despair. “I thought they or OCEAN or Meowth could help me, could make it stop. But it just keeps getting worse.” Mathew pulled his goggles away to wipe at his eyes. “Why am I doing any of this, Joey? I don’t even know anymore… I just don’t know…”

Joey was silenced by Mathew’s tears. Here it was — the truth that he had wanted for so long. Now he knew the kind of people his parents were, and what they meant to Mathew. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? Learning this is what had kept him by the cubone’s side all this time.

But there wasn’t anything fun about this.

Joey sat down on the other end of the couch, waiting. Mathew needed several long, painful minutes before his weeping subsided enough for him to speak. “Whenever your family came over so that your — your parents and I could talk, you’d…spend all your time with Mark.” he said between sniffles.

Mark… MW. “I was friends with your kid,” Joey thought aloud.

He nodded slowly. “Mark was pretty bright. About as good as…you could get in a life of balancing homeschooling with — with online school. He — He — He meant the world to me.” Mathew took a few fast breaths. “But after we lost Laura, he and I had — we had different outlooks on what to do next. So he’d always…pull you along to the other side of the house instead of — of sticking around with the adults. I have no idea what you two did with all that time, but you two…you were always smiling, so…” Mathew buried his skull mask in his arms, and he got worked up all over again.

Joey took off his hat and held it in front of his face. Don’t forget. It was a message from Mark to him that Joey had lost the meaning to. If only he was here to tell him… “What happened to him?”

“Things at home…they only got worse after your family moved a state over. Mark — he helped me work on the portal technology, but — but I know he never really was on-board. I still remember when — when I woke him up after getting those blueprints. He gave me this look and told me…he told me I was crazy. He was probably right.” Mathew laughed weakly. “Two or three months ago, we — we had this argument about that, and I thought things calmed down, but the next morning he was just…gone.” He slumped over, another well of tears quietly streaming down his face. “I never saw him again.”

Joey hung his head. “So he ran off.”

“He was…so sad when he found out you were moving. That hat you’re wearing, he — he gave it to you on his own birthday. He wanted you to have it as a reminder of…something. He — He never told me what. So, when he left, my first thought was — I thought he ran away to see you. I…” Mathew sounded so frail. “I don’t think he made it.”

Mark…a friend he had lost that he didn’t even know. Before Joey had come to this world, did he know about any of this? Did his parents keep all this about their ‘group’ a secret from him? Had he mistakenly assumed Mark was still alive? There was a lot he didn’t know, but that spark that motivated him to seek that knowledge was dying out. At this point, Joey just wished things were better.

“Joey.” Mathew sounded a bit more controlled now. “As soon as this is over, and we have a chance…I’m gonna find that psychic type stone the Wristlet needs, and I’m gonna get you your memories back. And, after that, if you wanna go find your parents and never see me again…that’d be okay with me.” He shook his head, looking shameful. “Dammit. I should have just told you all this from the beginning. You’re too young for all of the shit I’ve been throwing on you… I’m so sorry.”

Joey pondered this for a moment. If there was a chance to turn around and leave Mathew…would he take it? Should he take it? He didn’t even know at this point. “…Let’s just take a few minutes,” he muttered. “We need it.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right.” Mathew leaned back, and they both just sat there, on that couch, for a few minutes. Mathew’s breathing grew less and less erratic, and soon enough, his distress began to fade.

That was when the door to Meowth’s room slowly creaked open. Out he came, carrying several boxes sealed shut and stacked atop each other. Joey rose to help, but was quickly stopped.

“Just stay there,” Meowth calmly insisted. “I can move this on my own. We’ll only leave when you’re both ready.”

Meowth had been listening to their conversation the whole time, hadn’t he? He must have been waiting for a good time to leave that room of his. Joey looked to Mathew, anticipating a fierce, snappy—

“Okay.” That was all Mathew said. It was raspy, and a little firm, but there was no malice behind his voice. It was almost relieving to see him so calm towards Meowth. Joey wondered how long it would last.

Meowth kicked the door open and starting speaking to Chip outside, but whatever they said was muted by it shutting. The two were left alone for a bit longer.

As the tension between them subsided, and as Mathew stood up and said he was ready to keep moving, and as the two of them carried his backpack out of the condo and into the buggy, and as the four of them uneasily drove away, Joey wondered what awaited them on the path ahead. He was hopeful that the others would bring some brightness back into this terrible situation — he was almost eager for it. But it wouldn’t change how today had brought out the worst of the both of them.

Could it get any worse than this?

Chapter 24: Receding

Chapter 23: Receding

“This is town hall?!”

Mathew was left bewildered as he drove the buggy up to the building. Made of worn brick and cloudy windows, it reminded him of an Earth town hall, but the sheer size of it threw him off. Its doorless entrance, hid behind dark green pillars holding the building up by the edges of the roof, could easily fit him even if he was four times larger.

“It’s huge!” Joey exclaimed.

“Well, when you have to create a building everybody is meant to enter, you kind of have to make it huge,” Chip explained. “You wouldn’t want to lock out your good friend Dragonite just because he’s too big, right?”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense…” On second thought, that should’ve been obvious to Mathew. He supposed he was still feeling a little overwhelmed from his talk with Joey. He regretted that he didn’t stay in the condo longer to fully collect himself, but he knew that OCEAN wouldn’t wait for him to feel better. Not to mention, none of the others were familiar enough with vehicles to drive the buggy through town, so that left the task to him.

The cold air of the cloud-covered sky outside was replaced with something much warmer as soon as they stepped through the entryway. There was a large crowd filling up the spacious lobby — a sign on the ceiling suggested a food court was that way, and they were just in time for the start of the lunch rush. Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to wait in a line for food. “So, where are they?” he asked Chip.

“If they’re still in that meeting, then they’d be in the guildmaster’s office,” Chip said, already leading the way. “There’s an elevator that goes down to the basement over here on the right.” He took a moment to wave down a guild member — a purple monkey with a hand-like thing on her tail — and get her to keep an eye on the buggy, then they made for the massive elevator Chip had pointed out.

When it opened into a basement hallway, they were greeted with a painting of a large beast pokémon captioned “In memory of Fogside and Mayor Scapelli. 1804 - 2060.” They turned a left, and there it was: a pair of extremely tall double doors. Next to it was a plaque that read “Guildmaster’s office”.

Joey stared at the door. “Uh… How do we—”

“Like this.” Meowth grabbed a subtle knob and pulled open a part of the door. He gestured to Mathew, pressing him to go first.

A door inside of a door… From the euphoric to the miserable to the comical, Mathew felt like he had experienced everything today. He pushed forward as Meowth opened it the rest of the way. “Hello? Guildmaster? We—” Mathew’s throat constricted as he realized that he certainly had not seen everything yet.

There was Jermy, Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom, and Poliwrath, alright, talking to a monolith. The quadrupedic beast, resembling the one in the painting, must’ve been seven times taller than the cubone. Its head protruded upward like a minotaur, and its backside bore a tail like a mermaid’s. Its front and hind legs were a mismatch between green talons and black paws. To top it all off, on its crest and tail were highlights of a contradictory bright pink. It looked like a gross fusion of Frankenstein’s monster and a wolf, topped with a pixie dust-colored bandage.

Needless to say, Mathew took the door out of Meowth’s paws and immediately slammed it shut. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed.

“Mathew?!” Joey said. “What’s in there?”

“It’s a…it has a…!” Mathew tried to recount the creature’s appearance, but words failed him. “I don’t even know how to say it!”

“Woah, hey!” Breloom shouted from inside. “Silv isn’t gonna bite!”

“You’re not interrupting, if that is your concern!” The beast spoke with a deep, voluminous voice.

Mathew slowly pried the door within a door open again. “You could’ve warned me your leader was gonna look like that,” he mumbled to the others as he stumbled into the room. It was a tall and wide space in which the beast stood at the back, behind a desk suitable for his size. There was a little tag on the desk that said “Guildmaster Silvalla”. A smaller table in a half-ring shape was where everyone else was seated…besides Minichino, who was sketching something with chalk on the hard-wood floor in the center of the room.

“Hey guys!” she exclaimed, looking up from her work. She gave them a grin that faded slightly when she saw their expressions. “Everything okay? You guys look down…or, more down than usual in Meowth’s case.” Minichino’s prod prompted a sigh from Meowth.

Mathew was not all interested in talking about this more than he had to. “It’s fine…”

“We’re a little out of wack because of what’s going on,” Joey mumbled. “We’ll figure it out.”

“That is understandable,” The beast, Silvalla, said. He focused his attention to Mathew. “If it’s of any concern to you, Mathew, let it be known that what occurred today is clearly an act of self-defense. So, unless Meowth wants to…” Silvalla was silenced by a cutting glare from Meowth. “There is nothing to charge you with.”

Oh. Well, that explained a bit of what they had talked about before their arrival. “Good to know, I guess…”

They each settled into some of the open chairs. After sinking into the beanbag chair, Mathew noticed a set of plates had been laid out on the table, spread out so that each of them could easily reach one.

“There is complimentary food, if you wish,” Silvalla clarified.

Mathew leaned forward. On the plate… Garlic bread? He picked a loaf up, studying it. What kind of place serves garlic bread as complimentary food? He hadn’t had anything like this since—

“Wait a minute.” Mathew looked up at the beast. “Isn’t there a restaurant in town that shares your name?”

“Ah, my side project.”

Mathew slowly put the loaf down. This place gets weirder by the goddamn second.

“Where’s Demurke?” Meowth asked.

“She’s still in questioning, I think,” Jermy answered. “I dunno how I got done faster than her.”

“With how fast you were blabbering, you would out-talk most people,” ORB, next to Jermy’s chair, said.

“Well, she did send half of us into an ambush,” Breloom said. “If any of us needed more thorough questioning…”

Chip idly tapped the table with his wing. “I agree with the idea, but not in the time it’s taking.”

“Well, it gives me some time to keep working on this,” Minichino said. She seemed to be slowly drawing a circle…a Gate?

Mathew was tempted to ask about it, but there was a, literally, much bigger thing on his mind. “So, what’s a g—” Right, they didn’t know what a god was. “Er, legendary doing running this whole service thing, anyway?” Mathew asked.

“Well, that’s somewhat of a history lesson,” Silvalla said. “I’m uncertain if we have the time.”

“Oh, they don’t know about this?! I’d be glad to explain it quickly. I studied this topic heavily in Higher Education…” Chip was so excited he hardly even waited for permission to continue. “Back when when services like guilds were run by mortals, for mortals, the city of Rimek had a guild with an exceptional reputation. Behind closed doors, however, it wasn’t so pleasant.”

“I remember readin’ those reports in one of our history classes,” Poliwrath cut in. “It was crazy!”

“Little more than just crazy…” Politoed remarked. “Members treated each other terribly and supervisors turned blind eyes.”

“Well, yes,” Chip cut in, “but previous guildmasters knew how to make sense of all that chaos. Then, some three hundred years ago, they got Guildmaster Gothitelle. To make a long story short, she lost control of the guild’s worst members, which led to infighting so severe that, one day, tensions snapped and the in-groups started killing each other.”

“Killing…?” Joey gawked.

“It went about as well as you’d imagine a practical free-for-all between the greatest fighters around could go,” Breloom said. “Twelve dead, including the guildmaster herself, and more than triple that injured. Their facility got leveled. Pretty much everyone retired or got arrested by other guilds. Crime rates skyrocketed. Lots of mourning on all fronts. You get it.”

“Yes, I do.” Mathew slouched. All good rules are written in blood — it was a truth of Earth, and now it was a truth of Solceus as well. He was such a fool for thinking running off to Solceus and fulfilling OCEAN’s wishes would result in him living in a paradise where he could keep his friends safe.

Chip seemed a little miffed by Breloom’s interruption. “And that is why Arceus and the four Tapus collaborated on the LeadType Project!” He swung a wing towards Silvalla. “One of many silvallys has been provided to every major town, city, or other congregation of people to establish standards across all local service groups and ensure that an incident like Rimek’s does not happen again. There was pushback on the idea, but after the success and reputation of groups who accepted the help of their silvally skyrocketed, that minority quickly dissolved. Now, we hardly even think about it.”

Silvalla straightened his neck. “Thank you, Chip.” The chatot gave a nod of appreciation, then let him have the floor. “One of the lesser-known services that us silvally provide is a form of protection for those who are being hunted or otherwise in danger. People are led along what we call the Silvally Safety Trail to a location that is kept secret between us silvally, where they are able to keep living while, ideally, not in constant danger.”

Mathew could see where this was going. “So we’re going into witness protection.”

“If that’s the closest human equivalent to what I’m describing, then yes. All of you will be moving to a new location temporarily until this ‘OCEAN’ force is no longer a threat. On the trip there, you will be accompanied by Poliwrath and Chip, as additional protection in case you encounter problems on the trip.”

Poliwrath groaned. “Say bye-bye to our plans for the week, Chip…” he quickly caught himself and redoubled his vigor. “B-Because we’re gonna put our A-game into gettin’ these guys safe!”

“How flattering.” Politoed gave an amused smile, which seemed to make Poliwrath seethe in his seat.

“And that’s not all!” Minichino leapt away from her drawing that was much more clearly a Gate now. “I just finished my way of getting us some secret extra help!”

“Extra help…?” Mathew was intrigued. What more could this girl possibly be hiding?

“So, when I first showed you guys I was a priest, I didn’t tell you everything about what it’s like to be one,” Minichino said. “See, each priest like me is given a blessing by one Legendary Pokémon. It’s supposed to be our job to represent them to everyday pokémon, so we can help guide them.”

“You were blessed by a legendary?!” Jermy exclaimed. “You’re fifteen!”

Minichino turned towards Jermy with a giddy grin. “I know, right?!”

Something clicked to Mathew at this realization. “Then…what legendary were you blessed by?”

“And that’s why I didn’t tell you that detail when we were in the Church of Arceus,” Minichino said, giving him a side eye. “I didn’t want you trying to figure me out. So if you didn’t know that about priests, you wouldn’t think to ask!”

Meowth wasn’t impressed. “Couldn’t they have asked any of the other priests in the church about what they do and learned about it that way?”

Minichino whirled to clap back at Meowth…then stammered. “I mean…well…uh…they didn’t! So yeah!”

Politoed just shrugged. “Wasn’t in charge of that part of the plan.”

“So, what does this have to do with the Gate?” Mathew asked. “Do priests get to do some kind of special imbuing?”

“Imbue?” Minichino smirked. “Nah, for us, Gates have a whole ‘nother feature we get to use. Watch this!” She dropped to her knees and planted her paws on the floor. Suddenly, the Gate on the ground glowed brightly. Even without anything to imbue, Minichino was somehow activating it. There was a brief moment of silence, and then…

“Minichino!” A bright and youthful voice echoed through the air, a bit muffled but still easy to hear. “That’s you I’m sensing, right?!” the voice exclaimed.

“Yeah, it’s me!” Minichino said. “Got a couple minutes? I’ve got a lot to tell and show you guys…”

“Couple minutes, coming right up!”

Mathew’s eyes widened as a glowing light filled the office — then it dispersed, and another figure appeared, standing in the midst of the Gate. Before them all was a cream-colored colt, coated in a blue hue that matched the color of his tail, the end of his hooves, and a great horn that sprouted from his forehead. He had a fiery red mane, flowing gracefully from his head. Three strands at the front had been dyed different shades: the left green, the middle orange, the right blue. The cubone found him familiar, but the name eluded him.

Minichino stood up and dramatically gestured to him. “Everyone, please welcome to the room—”

“Minichino!” A voice bellowed with the gruff deepness of a bass. At the edge of the Gate, a second figure suddenly formed, charging straight into the colt.

“Wait—waaah!”

The colt was barreled over, almost crushed underneath the gray and brown bovine with two curved horns. “There you are!” he looked at Minichino with a wide grin. “What’ve you been up to this whole time?”

“Going undercover, like I said,” Minichino answered. “I had to make myself look totally innocent, so OCEAN would buy it!” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Did I make you worry?”

“We were a little worried, yes.” A woman’s voice came through, and yet another figure leapt smoothly into the Gate — a green antelope with a cream-shaded underside and hooves shaped like boots. A leaf tipped with bright red sprouted from her neck, matching the shade of her eyes.

“A proper warning would have been appreciated.” One more pokémon marched in. The blue stag with yellow horns in the shape of lightning bolts looked down upon the minccino, the white beard-like mane on his neck instantly giving him an age and authority. “We were forced to reroute to pass Kalmwa’er so we could check up on you.”

“Yeah, that’s my bad…” Minichino fidgeted with her hat, seeming a bit embarrassed.

“H-Hey, if it makes you feel any better…” The colt pushed the bovine off of him and rose to his feet. “I always knew you were okay.” That seemed to make her smile again.

Mathew couldn’t believe his own eyes. He hadn’t been able to recognize one on their own, but all gathered here in the middle of the room, it was clear now. “You’re a priest for the Swords of Justice?!”

All four of them whipped their heads in Mathew’s direction, but none of them seemed to actually lock their eyes on his body. “Oh, we have an audience?” Cobalion remarked.

“Yeah! We’re actually in the middle of Kalmwa’er Service Guild’s office.” Minichino acknowledged the confused Mathew. “They can only see people and stuff that’s inside the Gate.”

“Hello, Swords,” Silvalla called down to them. “This is Silvalla. You’re surrounded by a few mortals who, along with your priest, we are helping to take on a passage to safety.”

“A passage…you mean the ‘Safety Trail’ then.” Cobalion looked up to roughly where Silvalla sat. “Are you absolutely certain that their destination will be safer than where they are now?” Mathew could feel some underlying tension in that question.

Silvalla shut his eyes and gave a long sigh. “What happened there was…unfortunate. But I assure you, Mithlline offers no such risks.”

“Oh don’t tell me that they rerouted that whole thing to go there…!” Poliwrath mumbled.

Politoed nodded, much to his dismay. “Going to be taking the humans home with us.”

The moment Politoed said that, the demeanor of the four changed. “There are humans with you?” Virizion asked, seeming surprised and a bit intrigued.

“Oh! Oh! Bring them over here! I wanna see!” Keldeo exclaimed.

Mathew was not particularly interested in presenting himself to a bunch of strangers, even if they were Legendary Pokémon. So when Joey voiced an “I can come up there,” Mathew did not object. Once he stood inside the Gate, the red-haired colt slowly approached him.

“Hmmmmm…” He squinted as he stared Joey up and down. “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”

“Uh, hi, mister,” Joey said. “I’m Joey. Is everything okay?”

Keldeo cocked his head, seeming a little disappointed. “Huh. I thought you’d look a little more…human-y.”

Virizion shook her head, amused. “See? We told you they look the same as any Solcean.”

“But that’s so lame, though!” He exclaimed to the antelope. “It’d be way cooler if they got, like, a little hairtuft or something.”

“On a crocodile?” Terrakion chuckled. “That’s a riot!”

“Let’s get back to business.” Cobalion’s eyes sweeped the room, addressing everyone. “We are about two days away from Kalmwa’er. Is there a way we could assist with your escort of Minichino and these humans?”

Silvalla pondered for a moment. “How long would it take for you to reach Bylaide Forest?”

“The dungeon south of Vahle Village? We could easily reach that by tonight,” Cobalion said. “That will provide us all with some cover…meeting there would be wise.”

“Bylaide Forest is pretty far from here,” Breloom mused. “If we wanted to make it without stopping to sleep, we’d have to leave this evening and travel through the night.”

Jermy groaned. “Even without OCEAN, I’m never gonna get any sleep, aren’t I?”

“According to my calculations,” ORB said, “the probability of you fixing your circadian rhythm is 0.00—”

Suddenly, the door within a door to the guildmaster’s office burst open. Mathew turned, expecting to see Demurke…but instead, it was the purple monkey from earlier. “Guildmaster!” she exclaimed. “Somebody outside is begging to be let into your office! He says he needs to talk to some people here!”

A tense silence fell over the group. Mathew could feel his heartbeat quicken. Had they already been found out by OCEAN?

“Who is this person?” Silvalla asked.

“He claims to be the owner of the vehicle Chip came in on earlier, Guildmaster. He is a light persian wearing a purple bowtie.”

“What the heck?” Minichino said. “Mr. Persian is here?!”

Mathew was immediately suspicious. It wasn’t David, or Dit, or any of the soldiers they had fought earlier, but that just made him more concerned. “This might be a trap. They might have sent Mr. Persian to act as a familiar face to lure us—”

“You guys have a meeting to finish. I’ll handle this myself.” Meowth sprung out of his seat, making a beeline for the door.

“Meowth! Wait!” Joey cried, but he was already past the monkey and through the door.

The cubone shook his head, disappointed. Of course he would run off like that…

---

That was so selfish of you, Meowth. You could’ve gotten all of us killed!

Already, Meowth could hear the rambling of the others after he returned to that meeting he just abandoned. He didn’t care.

Going to Misery Cave had been an opportunity to get a taste of what his father was hiding from him. Mathew going over the deep end, those OCEAN workers fighting them to the death, and that gurdurr whose blood was now on their hands… Mr. Persian had been overlooking all of this, he was certain. That message he sent this morning proved it.

Soon, he was stomping his way out of town hall, making a beeline for the buggy. Sure enough, there he was, looking desperate as he spoke with a random guild member. “Please, is there any way I can convince you that…” Mr. Persian’s voice fell away as he approached.

Meowth planted his feet down so firmly, his claws almost dug into the dirt. “What are you doing here?”

“Meowth…” His ears drooped. “You didn’t get my letter, did you.”

“Of course I got the letter. Why are you here?”

Mr. Persian slowly walked up closer to him. “Did they hurt you at all? I know you always have oran berries and reviver seeds on you, but—”

He took a step back. “Answer the question.” Meowth closely studied his father’s face. Where was that grin of his?

Mr. Persian paused his approach, giving him a look full of despair. “When I saw the buggy coming in, I knew you all were going to leave town. There are a few things I need to do before you go…but this is the one that mattered the most.” He reached back and clawed at his own hind leg. Some piece of clothing had been wrapped around it.

Meowth watched his father with scrutiny as he pulled it off his leg and laid it flat on the ground. What could he have possibly gotten him that—

Oh. Oh.

A tie. Just like Mathew’s. Although, this one wasn’t a simple burgundy like his — it was striped, alternating between a pure black and a pure green.

“I wanted to give this to you personally when you turned fourteen, but I never got the chance.” Mr. Persian said solemnly. “When I learned you were going to be a physician-therapist, I thought you might want something like this.” Unable to meet his gaze, he looked away from Meowth. “I’m sorry if it doesn’t fit, or it’s not your style. It matched your contacts, so…”

Meowth picked up the tie and let it dangle. It was fashionable, stylish, appropriate for his career, and it really did match his eyes. A few years ago, he probably would have hated it — he remembered hating neckwear, and he’d avoid wearing anything like this even when his academics called for it. He couldn’t really remember why…

No. He did. Meowth just had to take a look at his father’s bowtie to remind himself.

Immediately, Meowth began wrapping the thing around his neck and tying it into shape. At this point he didn’t even know where he wanted to point his spite anymore, so he didn’t have a good reason not to try it on. He fumbled with it for a bit, tying it into ugly and clearly incorrect knots before undoing it and starting over.

Mr. Persian reached a paw forward. “Do you need me to—”

“No. I got it.” He whirled away from his father, pausing to recollect his thoughts. What was it that his classmate said that one time…? Wrap around…up and over…thread it through…

Better. One or two more attempts later, and the tie was tied, only slightly loose around his neck. Meowth tightened it as he returned his attention to his father.

“Oh. You did it all by yourself…” Mr. Persian’s expression was surprisingly sunken. “Good job, Meowth.”

He focused his attention back on his father. “Five years is a long time to find a chance to give a gift.” Meowth reflexively dragged his foot against the ground a little. It was only natural, since that was what Mr. Persian’d been doing.

“I know.” His sullen demeanor didn’t change. Even now, he was denying it? “These past few years have been so difficult. I imagine it’s been as hard for you as it’s been for—”

Forget this.

“Can you just stop being so fake?!” Meowth almost grit his teeth as he spoke. He knew there were people watching, but it hardly mattered now. “I’m tired of having to fish this out of you. Just tell me that you hate me, so that we can move on!”

Mr. Persian flinched at his raised voice. “Fake?” He sounded as though he was in disbelief. Then he retreated further from him, looking off towards that resort of his. “Is that how long I’ve been gone…?”

“You threw me into a dorm the moment you got the chance and never let me come home. Then you’d send your assistant to handle me instead of yourself, because you preferred it that way. The only reason you got me to join that stupid Club was because I had a career that was convenient to you! Now I…” He only let himself hesitate for a second. “I know that it’s true. I got in your office and saw the contract. That document to keep me away…you signed it yourself.”

Mr. Persian spent several seconds soaking his words in. He lowered his gaze from the resort. “I signed so many things, Meowth. All those years ago, I was a hopelessly naïve businessman. I wanted to make a vacation space anyone could enjoy — and support you and your mother along the way. I really did think that ‘SEAS’ meant well, offering to partner with me and make my business thrive…” Then, he found it in him to once more meet Meowth’s eyes. “But that contract I signed with Emily isn’t one I regret.”

Because it got rid of you.

Meowth crossed his arms. “You really care about the resort that much? Was it really worth throwing away our whole family for?”

“No! I hardly care about the resort anymore!” Mr. Persian exclaimed, seeming distressed at even the thought. “That contract…it was supposed to protect you.”

…Wait, what? Meowth blinked, a bit stunned.

“Using SEAS, OCEAN hunts for ‘business partners’ that get them what they want. Food, or resources, or people, all without having to put their name on it front and center. For me, they wanted a small place to train new recruits from Earth — and an appealing reward for their most loyal workers,” Mr. Persian told him. “Meowth, if you had stayed close to me, they would have gotten you involved in all of my responsibilities. Signing you away to Higher Ed was the only way to keep you safe…and to give you the closest thing to a normal life.”

No… No, that couldn’t be true. Mr. Persian was just making this all up. He had to be! “Then what’s been these past few weeks then?” Meowth asked. “Nothing about this job you gave me was normal.”

Mr. Persian seemed strained. “I’ve missed you so much, over all these years. So, when I saw they were going to make Minichino run a recruitment front in the resort, I thought I could use that to…reconnect in a way that kept you safe, somehow. But after all this, I guess that was a terrible mistake.”

None of this was the answer Meowth was looking for. Mr. Persian hated him. It was the only explanation that made sense of his distance from him, and the way he was so dodgy, and how he’d send Demurke in his place… Everyone hated him! So how could he just walk up to him and say…

His world was splintering. That doubt he had that this started and ended with his father’s malice, that maybe he was wrong about him… If all this was true, then Meowth had been right to think that way.

What did that mean about everything he had done these past few weeks? These past few years?

“...Meowth?” Mr. Persian’s voice startled him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know whether I can…believe you,” he said.

His father seemed sullen, but not as heartbroken as he was initially. He seemed to be making peace with Meowth’s uncertainty. “I have no idea how long it will take them to notice I’m not where I’m supposed to be. This might be the last time I see you,” he whispered. “You need to go live your life, where it’s safe, away from me. But please…please don’t wonder whether my love for you was fake. Because it was real. It always was—”

“M-Mr. Persian?”

The two of them snapped their heads towards the source of that familiar voice. Demurke was standing, stunned, just inside of town hall. The red on her wings was clearly on display, clutching a folded-up piece of paper. Seeing her here filled Meowth with concern.

Mr. Persian gasped. “Demurke!” he cried, sprinting up to her. “Thank goodness! I was so worried about you.”

“Wh-What are you doing here?! You’re…supposed to be…”

“I came to say goodbye.” Mr. Persian peered back at him. “To both of you.”

Meowth walked up to the murkrow. “So you’re done with questioning. Why aren’t you down in the meeting with the others?”

“Yes, I-I finished getting questioned and everything! But… I…” She tipped her hat. “I’m not going.”

“Not going?” Meowth didn’t know what to make of that. Where did she planning on going then? Home, whatever that was for her?

But instead of him, it was her father she focused on. “I was going to…buy you t-time. So that you c-could go with Meowth.”

“What…” Mr. Persian was taken aback. Then, he shook his head, panicked. “No, no, no, Demurke, you need to go! You’ve lived with them for so long, you of all people deserve to—”

“I can’t.” She seemed nervous, but still looked Meowth’s father dead in the eye. “Not after…what happened in that c-cave. If they f-find out that I went missing with everyone else…they’ll do everything they can to find me. You know how my dad is. A-and…” That was the moment she broke eye contact with him. “my mom…”

Mr. Persian reached for her. “I get that, but—”

“Please!” Demurke found her composure again. “You’ve been…waiting for s-so long to be with him again. I w-won’t let you walk away! I can make th-them look for you in all the wrong places for…an hour, at least! I…” She raised her wings, then caught her own intensity and lowered them. “L-Let me do this for you.”

Mr. Persian stared at her in disbelief. Then in a burst of emotion, he lowered his head and leaned in, hugging her the best he could. “Thank you.” His father’s whisper wavered as much as his breath. “For everything.”

Demurke was dumbstruck. “I…I should be the one th-thanking you,” she said.

Mr. Persian pulled his head back and looked her in the eyes, his forepaws on both of her shoulders. There were tears in his eyes. “Demurke, stay strong, okay? Take care of yourself. Promise me you will. Please.”

She quickly nodded. “O-Okay…I’ll try.” With her wings, Demurke pushed Mr. Persian’s embrace away. “It’s been…a-a good few years, Mr. Persian.” She turned around, set the note down in a seat of the buggy, and outstretched her crimson-painted wings. A single red eye met Meowth’s gaze. “And Meowth…I’m sorry that I c-couldn’t do more. Goodbye…”

As Meowth watched Demurke take off for what might be the last time, he could only feel the weight of the past hanging on his shoulders. Demurke was just Mr. Persian’s assistant, wasn’t she? She only ever visited him in Higher Ed because Mr. Persian could never make the time to see him. But, after what he just told him, and what she did, and how they spoke with each other…

Reflecting on all this ate away at him in a way he couldn’t explain. Just how much of this had he gotten wrong?

“Meowth!” That was Joey’s cry, coming from within town hall. He was followed by the rest of the Pick-it Up Club.

“Demurke’s aura signal is currently above us,” ORB announced as they formed a crowd next to the buggy. “She is flying in the direction of Kalmwa’er Resort.”

“What the heck is Demurke doing?!” Joey asked the two of them.

Mr. Persian was the one to answer. “You just missed her. She’s going to sacrifice her own freedom for all of ours…including mine.”

“Oh no! Demurke!” Minichino cried. She tried to break out into a run, but she was promptly stopped by Breloom’s foot stepping on her tail. She grunted, trying to pry it out from underneath. “Lemme go! We gotta save her!”

“We’re supposed to be dead, remember?” Breloom said, seeming upset herself. “By this point, OCEAN’s probably only now finding out the sting didn’t go to plan. If any of us show our faces, they’ll figure it out even faster.”

“Then we can get one of the humans to go or something!”

Jermy seemed surprisingly calm in the face of this, if gloomy. “I dunno if we’d talk her out of this either…”

“Minichino,” Meowth said. “She made her choice. We can’t take it back for her.”

“No!” She gave Meowth a cry of defiance, but seconds later, her resistance faded. When Breloom lifted her leg, she didn’t try to run. “I at least wanted to say goodbye…” Mr. Persian came to her aid, patting her head.

“Think we should probably focus on what this means for us,” Politoed said, looking irritated. “Chances are that she might spill our plans to OCEAN, which means they could come for us fast.”

Mr. Persian’s softness faded, his paw recoiling from Minichino as he gave Politoed a fierce look. “Demurke wouldn’t do that.”

Politoed could only shrug. “And we thought Demurke wouldn’t put our lives at risk, but here we are now.”

Mr. Persian’s mouth held agape, but only air came. He hung his head.

In the meantime, Meowth made his way to the note she had wordlessly left behind. Written on it was the name of…huh. He passed it on to the nearby totodile. “She addressed this to you.”

“Me?” Perturbed, Joey unfolded the letter and read it aloud.

Joey,

I don’t have time to say it to your face, but I wanted to tell you that I’m very sorry. On the first day of work, I had to say that I didn’t find out anything about where your mom and dad could be. I always felt bad about that, so I’m going to make things right now.

Greg and Catherine were being recruited into OCEAN in Rimek. I tried to figure out what was going on with them, but everyone I talked to either didn’t know or didn’t want to tell me. Jermy doesn’t know anything either, so don’t be mean to him. All that I got is that there was some kind of big fight and it has all of the leaders stressed out. I really hope that you find them.

There are more things I’ve said and done that I want to admit to, but I can’t write about them and save Mr. Persian at the same time. I’m sorry for all of it. Just please be there for Mathew. He’s going to need it.

Sincerely,

Demurke

“She knew about all this?!” Mathew cried.

Jermy seemed to have a flash of recognition. “So that was…”

Joey, stunned, gave a sweeping look to the rest of the group. “My parents are here on Solceus.” He seemed both in disbelief…and relieved. That made sense to Meowth — he’d spent so much time knowing nothing about them, and now he had learned who they were and where they might be in a matter of hours.

Both of them were learning a lot about their families today, he supposed.

“Something we can think about back inside,” Politoed asserted. “Gotta get back to the meeting before we make any more of a scene. That includes you, of course.” His serious expression gave way to sympathy as he looked again at his father.

As they all filtered back into town hall, Meowth’s uncertainty did not fade. But it wouldn’t change what he had done, nor would it change what was happening now. Would he be able to accept all this? To be honest with himself, he had no idea. All he could do now was face it. He looked to his father as they began to walk inside. “Welcome to the club, I guess.”

Mr. Persian nodded his head. “Thank you.”

---

The sun finally met the ocean.

Mathew had watched the sunset several times through the window of Meowth’s condo. Each time he did, it only made him more determined to get the view on Kalmwa’er’s beach after he got everything in order with his rise into OCEAN’s ranks. Now, he was finally getting that chance, sitting down on a blanket laid over the sand near the edge of town.

Joey, Jermy, and Meowth were with him as well. After the meeting, the lot of them had gotten a few hours’ nap inside of town hall to rest and recuperate. They were now ready to set out — except for Jermy, who had thrown himself onto the blanket and immediately passed out again. In response, ORB had begun working his way through a playlist of all of the most childish Earthen lullabies. Mathew couldn’t help but find it amusing, and the music seemed to pique Joey and Meowth’s curiosities too. It was a nice distraction while they waited for the rest of the Solceans to pack their belongings.

To protect them while they were out on the beach, Breloom elected to stay with the humans. But right now, she wasn’t around the blanket. A couple minutes ago, she’d taken her guitar case and walked off into the darkness. Mathew tried to peer through the dark in search of the kangaroo. Where…?

It wasn’t his sense of sight that found her first, but his sense of hearing.

Backed by the roar of the wind and the chatter of the waning tourist trap, a lone guitar’s melody filled the air. Mathew could just barely see Breloom sitting in the sand, her silhouette’s edges lit by the town’s lights. The kangaroo faced the ocean as she idly played, completely lost in her music. Her cape was blown about by the breeze, completely unfurled behind her back.

Mathew had never heard this song before, but it sounded so…melancholy. He could feel a wave of strong emotion wash over him, and he was left speechless. Nobody else dared speak, either, and ORB’s lullaby stopped. The beach fell to silence.

“The best part about music?” Laura sat before her computer, clutching a guitar in her arms. “Damn, that’s not an easy question…”

Mathew, sitting on a chair out of her stream’s way, was impressed. “Huge props to chat tonight,” he called out. “I was prepared for these questions to be some of the worst shit in the world, but we actually got good ones.”

Laura patted her guitar. “The best part about music…is that you can’t take it away from anybody. We can always express ourselves whether there’s six billion of us or only one. For me, it’s almost like…music gives me the power to defy everything that’s been going on. I can tell the world that it doesn’t matter how bad it gets — I can keep lifting spirits and telling stories. And that message’ll live forever, you know? Even when I die, I’m still kind of living, in a way. Knowing that is what keeps me making music, I guess.”

Suddenly, the playing stopped. Mathew could see Breloom flinch, claws silencing the strings. She seemed to have only now taken notice of her captive audience. “Sorry, my bad. I probably shouldn’t be playing when we’re trying to lay low…You guys can keep doing what you’re doing.”

“No, please.” Mathew wondered if, in this light, any of them would notice him wiping the tears from his eyes. “Keep going.”

Breloom seemed uncertain, but she wasn’t met with any objections from Joey or Meowth, either. So she kept strumming, and her melodious sound returned to the beach. Mathew leaned back, satisfied.

She really would have loved this.

They all stayed that way for a few minutes, listening to Breloom play, until they finally heard the sounds of footsteps approaching. “I have to say, you do play a good tune,” Chip remarked. With a few wingbeats, his colorful silhouette set its talons upon the blanket’s edge. carrying a bag joined them,

“Well, I try my best,” Breloom said modestly as she rejoined the group forming around the blanket. Mathew saw her take a few cursory swipes at her legs to clean off the sand.

“So, what’s left?” Meowth rose from a sitting position and addressed the rest of the hardly-visible crowd.

“Not much,” Politoed told him.

“The buggy’s hidden away, Sire and I have cover stories for leaving town, and we’ve packed everyone’s stuff,” Chip listed off.

“Yep! I was so ready for them to be staking out my place, but nope, they weren’t there at all!” For emphasis, Minichino tossed a single blue leather bag onto the blanket. It crumpled when it landed, as if it were empty.

After the commotion outside town hall died down, Silvalla offered the group that small, inconspicuous-looking bag. Apparently, they had bought this so-called ‘Dwelling Bag’ off of somebody in the quaint Vahle Village to the north, and kept it around in case of an emergency like this. Because of the conditions, Silvalla wanted them to have it so that they could pack all of their precious belongings without the luggage being a burden.

“I still can’t get over this thing,” Mathew remarked. “Shouldn’t trying to make this just create a black hole or something and…” He trailed off as he grabbed the Dwelling Bag and tested it for the umpteenth time. When he reached into the pure black interior, he found nothing but a void of darkness far larger than the actual bag, as if he was reaching into a wardrobe that had no back wall. He pictured his scrapbook, and just like that, he felt a book grazing against his hand. Then he cast it away and took his hand out. “Just — how does any of this work?”

To his surprise, Mathew had learned that even the native Solceans were mesmerized and confused by the Dwelling Bag. “Maybe it’s a kind of portal to some place, like one of Hoopa’s rings?” Politoed proposed. “Think we’d know if there was a market for ‘Hoopa bags’, though…”

“Forget how it works!” Minichino cried. “Do you know how much more trash we could’ve cleaned up if we had something like this when we started out?! We could’ve done weeks of cleaning in a day!”

Mr. Persian, who’d been hanging on the edge of this group around the blanket, finally spoke up. “Sorry, Minichino,” he said. “If I had known there was something like this out there, I would’ve asked OCEAN to find out how to make some.”

“Speaking of OCEAN…” Politoed gestured back towards town. Night had crawled a bit closer, so the street lights illuminating Kalmwa’er had gotten brighter. The resort was especially luminous.

“It’s hard to believe.” Mr. Persian looked at his creation longingly. “I’ve lived in this town for more than twenty years now, and I’ve worked on making the resort a reality for just as long. And now, just like that, I’m leaving it for good.”

“Hey, maybe after all this is over, we could at least start up the Club again?” Minichino offered. “And not make it a secret human recruitment plot this time, obviously.”

“That does sound nice…”

Breloom put her guitar in its case, then slipped it into the Dwelling Bag. “We should probably get moving. We’ve gotten lucky with not running into them so far, but I’m not interested in testing their luck any more than we already have.”

Everyone quietly agreed. Meowth and Joey yanked the blanket out from under Jermy, which, combined with ORB’s mockery, quickly woke him. Minichino sweeped both of them clean with sand and looked happy with herself. Politoed took initiative, leading their march away from Kalmwa’er. Poliwrath and Chip walked side-by-side, in their own little world.

Before it’d go out of sight, Mathew looked back at Kalmwa’er one last time. When it was lit up by night owls and busy businesses trying to make a quick buck, it seemed just as beautiful as the day he first laid eyes upon it. But he knew now that all that was just innocent fun — to the side, the obelisk of OCEAN’s craft blistered the view with its hidden malice. From here in the sand, the cliff walls seemed so much taller and so much more daunting, surrounding the town. From the oceanside, it couldn’t be more vulnerable.

It really didn’t turn out as great as he felt it’d be.

Maybe it never was.

Chapter 25: Tsunami

Chapter 24: Tsunami

“Eighty-nine bottles of milk on the wall… Eighty-nine bottles of miiiiillk.” As if Mathew’s normal singing wasn’t shaky enough, his hoarseness from exhaustion gave away that he was in no condition to be doing this. And yet, the age-old tune must go on. “Take one down…pass it ‘round…ba-da-ba-ba bottles of milk on the wall.”

Then, a groggy Joey sang eighty-eight. After that, a surprisingly awake Jermy would sing eighty-seven. ORB would provide the closest approximation he had to singing for eighty-six. Minichino, already looking like she was desperately trying not to pass out, would sing eighty-five with gusto. Chip would try way too hard on eighty-four. And finally, it would come back to Mathew for the magic number eighty-three.

This is what over six hours of non-stop walking through the night had done to them.

Of course, not everybody agreed in perpetuating this cycle. “Will you lot cut that stupid song out?!” Poliwrath exclaimed.

“I dunno…are we there yet?” Mathew grumbled. “This song keeps going…until we get there…or we die.”

“That’s kind of morbid.” Meowth had both of his paws firmly in his ears. Mathew was beginning to get the impression that he wasn’t a music fan in general.

“What did you do to a poor miltank to get that many milk bottles?” Mr. Persian asked.

The tired cubone groaned. “Damnit, Mr. Persian, you didn’t have to put that in my head…”

“Okay, seriously,” Breloom cut in, “What does ‘damnit’ mean? I get that it’s a word from Earth, but context clues aren’t helping.”

ORB was quick to reply, rolling along with the rest of them. “Profanity. From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Profanity is a socially offensive use of language, which may also be called cursing, cussing, swearing, or expletives—“

“The abridged version, please,” Chip said.

“Fine, be like that, then,” ORB retorted.

Mathew tuned out the explanation on the intricacies of swearing. It wasn’t a lesson for him, after all. He didn’t want to waste energy focusing on anything besides the rhythmic motions of his constant walk…and the perpetual extraction of milk bottles.

The good news was that they were pretty close to their destination — thanks to ORB’s front glass acting as a decent flashlight, Mathew could make out the tall, pointed trees that Politoed claimed was the visual signature of Bylaide Forest. The bad news was that booming sounds kept echoing from behind. Storm clouds were rolling through the clear night sky, encroaching upon them all. Flashes of lightning and bangs of thunder sometimes interrupted their music.

“...that’s it, huh?” Breloom said. Mathew mentally returned to the conversation just as ORB finished explaining. “Well, I guess that makes sense. It’s kind of like filter vocals in a song — it doesn’t mean anything, but if you don’t sing, it sounds weird, you know?”

Politoed seemed disinterested in all of their nonsense. “Well, anyway… Everyone!” With his call and a wave of his hand, Politoed halted their movement and silenced their chatter. They never made it past seventy-six. “Midnight dungeon shift is in a little under ten minutes. Before that happens, we should settle in the dungeon itself. Seems reasonable enough to bank on the shift moving us further north, so we can meet the Swords towards the edge of the dungeon as quick as we can.”

“Ain’t the dungeon shift gonna split us all up?” Joey asked. “That seems like a real bad idea…”

Politoed looked to him with an amused curiosity. “Don’t know about the rope trick?” he said. “Thought OCEAN would’ve taught you.”

Jermy rubbed the back of his head. “That was in the third week of lessons. We, uh, obviously didn’t get that far.”

The frog didn’t seem to judge them any further. “When a dungeon shifts, every living thing — the trees, the flora, and any kind of pokémon like you or me — gets scrambled around to some part of the area. Not convenient for groups going through a dungeon together. Happens to be a trick for emergency situations like this, though: living things that are touching each other get moved together. All dungeoneers have to do to keep from getting split up is to tie a rope around everyone in the group.”

“A rope we brought, by the way.” Chip reached into the Dwelling Bag and revealed a comically long rope. “You’re very welcome.”

“See, this is why having that Dwelling Bag would have been freaking awesome while we were in the Club,” Minichino said. “We could have taken a super-sized rope and stayed in the dungeon all day!”

“If only…” Mr. Persian said wistfully.

“On top of the midnight shift, we also got a Thundurus-shaped motivator to deal with!” Jermy pointed a hand to the storm in the sky. In the minute they’d been strategizing, it had already gotten much closer.

“Yeah, been keeping an eye on that,” Politoed remarked. “Weather report said tonight should be nice and clear…”

“I don’t see what’s so strange about it,” Joey said. “We ain’t that far from the ocean. Don’t tropical places get stormy all the time?”

“They do, but…” Mathew stared upward. This thunderstorm was rolling in at breakneck pace. Rain drops were already hitting his mask. “Do Solcean storms normally move this fast?”

“I don’t think so,” Minichino said. “Unless the ghosts of the Legendary Birds are hanging around or something, this—”

It came too suddenly to stop. There was a hiss in the air — and then, an arrow coated in violet energy stuck to the grass right next to Chip’s leg.

“What the…!” The chatot struggled in place, trying to get away, but his leg stayed firmly in place. It was as if the arrow had pinned him to the ground without it actually hitting him at all. “Spirit Shackle?!”

“What the hell is a Spirit Sh—“

Mathew couldn’t even get the words out before a green blur sped through the group. When it passed, Jermy had been plucked from the ground where he stood.

“Aaaagh! Dayyyyviiiiid!” Jermy’s angered scream drew Mathew’s eyes to the sky. The decidueye circled the air over their heads, dragging the flailing pikachu with his talons.

With their only real flier pinned, the cubone had to act fast. He reared back and chucked his club upward. It whipped through air and struck David’s wing dead-on, sending him and Jermy tumbling to the ground like a shot duck. Jermy splatted on the ground then scampered away, while David managed to correct his fall and land with both talons on the ground. In one motion, he rose his wing in the air, forming the shape of a bow with a faux-hoodie string, and nocked a quill-like arrow through it.

“Stay still, and I won’t shoot!” The decidueye’s aim shifted from Mathew, to Chip, to Joey, to Minichino, to Jermy, all with pinpoint speed. Even in the intensifying rain, Mathew was convinced that, if David released that arrow, it would not miss. “I just wanna talk.”

“Just wanna talk?” Poliwrath called out. “Ya nailed Chip to the ground and just about kidnapped that pikachu!”

“Talk about a rude entrance!” Chip complained. He crouched down and plucked the energy arrow from the ground, making it dissolve. That seemed to free him.

“To be fair, that second part’s kind of normal for us…” Jermy muttered.

“I was trying to explain that I come in peace to Jermy first, so he could keep you all from immediately jumping me and…” David’s firm face faltered. He used the side of his wing-bow to wipe it — water kept dripping down from his faux-hood. Mathew noticed then that something was strapped around the top of his head. A mask? “You know, now that I say that aloud, that was a stupid plan. My bad.”

Minichino slouched over. “Now I get why you’re the science guy and Dit’s the war tactics guy…”

“Anyway!” David refocused. “I heard about what happened in Misery Cave. I know it got ugly, and…bloody. And I want to say that I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t at all supposed to be this way, and it doesn’t have to get any worse.”

“Yeah.” Meowth drew out his claws. “Half of us could be dead.”

“And the other half could be mourning!” Mathew clutched his club tightly, enraged. How dare he act like the good guy after what he signed them up for?

“That’s not—!” David bit his tongue.“…the point. What I’m offering all of you is a way out. We can put the Club back together.” His gaze landed on Mr. Persian. “We can make the workplace better.” Then on Mathew and Joey. “We can give you those jobs you want.” Then on Jermy. “And we can work something out.” He addressed them all with passion in his voice. “We’re fighting for the same thing here, right?! Peace and safety on Solceus!”

“David Emmons, head of the science division, telling us all about peace and safety?” Breloom remarked, fearlessly marching up to him. “Apparently, you’re pretty good in the ‘volcanic explosion’ field of science.” Her gaze was cutting. “I dunno about you, but that sounds pretty far from the ‘peace and safety’ field.”

Mathew watched as both Jermy and David winced at the same time. “How do you…?” David looked to his former assistant. “Did you tell them?”

“Why should I answer that?” Jermy spat. “I quit. You and me are done-zo.”

The decidueye sighed. “I don’t think you all really get what’s happening.” He raised his arrow upwards, using its tip as a pointer. “Over there on the hills to your right is a whole unit of our best fighters. They’re sitting up there waiting for me to signal them to move in. And if you don’t turn yourselves in now…I will.”

“What?!” Mathew checked over his shoulder, as if they were right behind them. Their escape had been going too well up to this point. He should’ve known. “How the hell did you get an army here so fast?! We left in secret!” Looking for somebody to blame, he turned to ORB.

“Don’t look at me,” ORB said. “Jermy never had the brains to put me in the OCEAN system directly.”

“Definitely not ORB,” Politoed muttered. “Think you can put the pieces together based on which of us turned tail yesterday, Mathew.”

Mr. Persian looked mortified at even the implication. “No…”

“I don’t want to do this any more than you do!” David cried. “Do you think it’s fun to condemn people I like to death?! The world would be losing some hard workers…and a talented engineer…and a dedicated owner…” David lowered his wing-bow. “And a friend. So please—”

“Don’t let that arrow fly!!”

Everyone was silenced by the rallying cry of Poliwrath, putting in the full force of his throwing arm to make Joey fly first. David was a second away from being smacked by twenty pounds of angry blue crocodile.

But the arrow wasn’t what they had to stop. David dropped the arrow, pointed his wing to the sky, and—

Krrrrak!

Joey was blasted back by a forceful electric shock that surged into the sky like a reversed lightning bolt. He crashed to the ground, singed.

Mathew couldn’t believe what he just saw. Since when could a decidueye use lightning attacks?!

It didn’t matter now. The signal had been given.

“Alright. It’s done. There’s no way for me to save you from this.” David pulled the blue mask down over his head. The mask concealed everything but his eyes, which were devoid of color thanks to the shaded eyeholes. He turned his back to them. “I’m sorry, Jermy.”

Damnit! Mathew charged David with his club, aiming for his back. In response, he turned, wing coming down—

The next thing he knew, he was laying up against a tree, rain seeping into the eyeholes of his vibrating mask. A distant yell from Jermy told him that David had gotten away.

He and Joey hardly had the time to reorient themselves before Minichino grabbed their attentions. “Uh, guys?!” She pointed towards the nearby hills, almost towering over the trees. ORB shined his light towards them.

Atop the highest hill, Emily stood tall, looking down on them with firm, studious eyes. The digits on her right flipper clutched the lengthy pole of a flag, flying gracefully in the wind. The flag was a brilliant blue, and in the center of it was a round, jagged, silver-colored circle.

Mathew squinted at the flag, trying to examine it. “What does that sawblade shape mean…?”

“Remember something about OCEAN having a flag,” Politoed said. “Don’t know what it’s for, though.”

“That’s not a sawblade.”

When Mathew turned to Jermy, the pikachu’s focus was entirely on Emily and the flag, gritting his teeth as if the gravity of the situation had struck him all at once. “It’s supposed to be a storm — a hurricane,” he explained. “It’s OCEAN’s battle flag. Planting it down is supposed to be…a formal declaration of war.”

Before they could say anything else, Breloom was already charging ahead. “We’ve got to get to the dungeon and shift away from them. We have maybe seven minutes. Let’s go — now.”

Mathew regretted not forcing them to take a break when he had the chance. Every pounding step he took felt like hell on his heels. He panted hard, trying his best to keep up with the rest of the group. It was hard enough to keep his heart from beating out of his chest before one of these scumbags ripped it out themselves. The voices of charging pokémon that seemed to come from every direction did not make it any easier.

“How do we know if we’re in the dungeon or not?!” A panicked Mr. Persian cried.

“Keep an eye out for yellow marks on the trees! They outline the dungeon—” Before Chip could finish, a large boulder nearly struck him.

“Chip!” Poliwrath jumped into the air and hugged the chatot. When he landed, Chip was wrapped him in his arms, keeping him safe.

More attacks followed. A silver beam shot over their heads, narrowly missing Politoed’s King’s Rock. Familiar fins slashed through the trees, dropping branches from above. A psychic blast hit Meowth in the back point-blank, only rendered useless by his dark type. Mathew looked left and right, looking for their attackers, but it was so dark and so rainy, he could only see shadows—

KRRRAK.

Except when lightning struck, giving him snapshots of the world around him. A blade-shaped pokémon cutting their way through the shrubs in order to keep up. A tiny, green bug nipping at Minichino. High in the sky, an ancient-looking yellow bird, flocking overhead as if the storm was nothing to them. A red monkey leaping from tree to tree, looking down on him with a mischievous sneer. All of them wore blue masks that concealed their faces.

He wasn’t sure if he preferred the extra clarity.

Next to him, Meowth’s claws whipped out. “Mathew, on your left—!”

The cubone turned, club in hand, just in time to block the blow. One of the shadows jumped straight for him and clashed using a sword whose blade was nothing but ice. Although the mask hid his face and the darkness hid his body, the floaty wrapped around the orange weasel’s neck made his species a giveaway. Had he seen this buizel somewhere before?

He couldn’t think about that now. Once Meowth lobbed an energy coin at his arm, Mathew picked up the pace as much as his little cubone body could muster. A buizel could easily catch up with him — he needed to get some distance.

But the buizel didn’t chase after him. Mathew watched as his shadow zipped ahead in a Quick Attack. At the same time, a pokémon coated in shadowy energy charged ahead of the group. The pair landed in front of the group side-by-side. Maybe they could have kept moving and run them over, but Mr. Persian, who had somehow gotten to the front of the pack, panicked and skidded to a stop. That forced everybody else to do the same.

“Okay!” the buizel called out, brandishing his weapon. “We can do this the easy way…or the hard way!”

“Fucking hell, dude…” The coating of energy dissolved, revealing a white mountain lion-like pokémon with a curved dark blue horn. “Could you have picked something less cliché to lead with?”

“Well, it’s true! What was I supposed to say?” he snapped at the other.

The absol, Mathew presumed, just sighed. “Forget it. Keep going.”

Just then, the cubone noticed the shuffling of the shadows around them had begun to quiet down. When it stilled, it was just their group and this pair. Everyone else—

KRRRAK.

—was surrounding them in every direction, waiting, watching.

“Anyway! We’ve been told that we can take you dead or alive. We can just put you guys in a cell, but if you want this to be how you go out, we’d be happy to make that happen!”

Surprisingly, the first one of them to snap back was ORB. “Dying to a bunch of wannabe warriors would be too pitiful, even for Jermy.”

With a wing, Chip rubbed his head. “Well, I can think of worse ways to go down…”

“Why the heck are you entertainin’ them?!” Poliwrath snapped.

“Sorry, Sire! I didn’t mean it that way!” he exclaimed. “I meant as in…at least I’d be spending my last moments fighting with you.”

Poliwrath put his hands over where Mathew imagined his heart might be. “Aw, Chip…”

“Will you punks stop and take this seriously?!” the absol learned her head down, pointing her horn at them. “This is a threat. We’re threatening you.”

“I dunno, I wouldn’t call it a threat…” The buizel turned to his allies in the shadows. “Just telling them that most of us have a preference here.”

“Hard way! Hard way! Hard way!” The chant of the soldiers, prompted by the buizel, was powerful enough to drown out the rain.

Mathew knew that the chant was supposed to intimidate them — and it did — but there was something about this crowd that seemed off. This was the first chance for them to gleam at exactly who they were up against here. To him, they seemed…awfully juvenile. ORB calling them ‘wannabe warriors’ was shockingly accurate.

Then, something else struck Mathew. The rest of the attackers had slinked away to watch…this? This buizel and absol could probably put up a fight, but the fear he had felt while getting chased by them was wearing off with each word they said, dripping with a lack of practice. Not to mention, they already look pretty tuckered out. It was like they’d led with their Jack instead of their Ralph. If this was their unit’s leaders, then there probably weren’t too many people in this group older than them. They were probably around Meowth, Politoed, and Breloom’s age. He shuddered at the idea that some might even be Joey’s…

Mathew was not the only one who noticed this. “Huh, Besides Emily and David, where is the rest of OCEAN?” Jermy asked them. “I thought they’d bring out more of the senior members.”

“Of course they’re here, dumbass!” the absol said. “Not that we need them.”

Meowth got his own choice words in next. “I see what’s going on here. The adults of OCEAN have sent you all on the most depressing field trip in Solcean history. Did they remember to pack you your midnight snacks for after you’re done?”

An annoyed grunt from both the buizel and the absol was accompanied by several groans and boos at Meowth from the bystanders. The cat hardly even reacted.

“Honestly, you’re giving them too much credit.” Breloom marched up to them, looking confident. “A better squad would’ve skipped this hype session and taken us all out already.”

“Hey, don’t act like you know anything about how to run an army!” the buizel exclaimed.

“That’s funny.” She crossed her arms. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

“Ugh.” The buizel shook his head, then studied Breloom for a moment. “Nice cape, by the way. I bet with some scissors, it’d make for a nice arts-and-crafts project.”

“Nice sword. How long did you have to leave it in the freezer to keep it from melting?” The wind was already rushing due to the storm, but as Breloom gave her retort, Mathew could feel it shift just a little. “Because however long it took…it was a waste!”

Breloom blasted through the group, jumping towards the buizel at incredible speeds. Before he could pull it out of the way, she brought her arm down on his blade, smashing it into pieces.

The absol flinched in panic. “Oh, shit!” She stumbled away from them.

It took Mathew one second too long to realize she wasn’t reacting to Breloom.

A massive fireball surged through the group, right down the middle of their tense circle. Compared to the cold rain, the sheer heat it gave off as it passed by Mathew was overwhelming. Nothing could stop its advance — not Joey, not Politoed, not Poliwrath, and not the storm. It was heading straight for the buizel.

He had no need to get out of the way. Breloom, who he clutched tightly, would be her shield.

Mathew heard several of them scream at once. Himself… Meowth… Mr. Persian… Minichino… Loudest of all Politoed. None of them were given a chance to react as the fireball landed on Breloom. It exploded on her point-blank, torching everything it touched as it burst into flickers that extinguished fast.

Then the buizel slashed her chest as a parting blow. She crumpled over in the blackened grass. Red spots dotted the tips of the blade, somehow reformed.

“Get them!” somebody in the trees cried, and all at once, the rest of the soldiers moved in.

Instantly, Politoed and the others turned to fight them. Mathew probably should have, too. But he was too preoccupied staring in disbelief at the source of the fire.

In one hand was a lingering flame — in the other, a double-sided spear. Rather than a mask, his eyes were concealed by goggles not unlike Mathew’s own. His head, adorned with a black mark between the eyes, resembled Mathew’s skull mask.

And on its right side, sealed like a scarring wound, was a long crack.

The marowak turned to face him. “Hi, Dad.”

---

This fight was a nightmare.

No amount of darkness vision could help Meowth get a sense of the chaos around him. Higher Education had trained him to fight small groups of dungeon pokémon, not small armies equipped with extravagant weapons. A thorn-covered boxing glove scratched and pricked his arm. A flaming stick nearly singed off his whiskers. If this went on too long, he wouldn’t survive.

His only lifeline was the Dwelling Bag. Chip had been holding it before, but Meowth had found it on the ground when he dove under a staticy hammer. When Silvalla had shown it to them, he quickly realized how much of an incredible upgrade this was from his tiny medical kit. Thankfully, he had bought a few healing items to stuff it with prior to leaving Kalmwa’er. The moment he felt his knees wobble after a hard-hitting attack, he downed an oran berry and kept moving.

Meowth had no idea where the others were. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of somebody in the flash of the lightning, or thanks to ORB running around and shining light while dodging his own attackers, but otherwise, it was lights out. The only person he could keep track of was Mr. Persian, who clung to his back like an eelektrik.

“Meowth! You’re doing great!” Mr. Persian called out. Meowth knew that his father was not practiced like he was. He could claw back at an oncoming granbull, but if a drilbur came up to his other side at the same time, Meowth was forced to cover him.

He was fighting faster than he could think. Slash at the nearby vibrava. Toss a coin at the simisear in the trees. Leap towards the minccino—

“Hey! Watch the friendly fire, dude!” Minichino was lucky that Meowth could pull back his slash in time.

“Sorry.” As an apology, he handed her one of the few sitrus berries he had.

Only a moment later, the group stumbled into a miracle. As they fought off a pair of OCEAN soldiers, Meowth peered behind them to see nothing but the shape of trees. The exposed dungeon entrance — or at least he hoped that’s what it was. He was so disoriented that he didn’t know which way he was facing anymore. Was it worth it to assume that behind them was north?

In a fight like this, he couldn’t stop to ponder. “We need to make a break for it!” he was running before the words had left his mouth. He just had to hope the other two would follow him.

The seconds had begun bleeding into each other. Meowth’s sense of time was as muted as his direction in the roar of the rain. He had no idea how much more time they had. Maybe it was already too late. At least they could run into the dungeon and—

“Stay where you are!”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Descending from the sky was a tall, imposing penguin pokémon. They landed right in front of the trio, blocking their way forward. They wore no mask, leaving only the trident-like guard her beak provided to conceal her face.

“E-Emily…” Mr. Persian muttered.

So this was Emily Prest… The empoleon who had signed him into his life of isolation. Even now, she was the only thing standing between him, his father, and their freedom.

Meowth was prepared for the battle of his life, but she wasn’t in a combative stance at all. She looked down at his father calmly. “Is there really nothing I can do for you now, Mr. Persian?” Emily asked him.

Mr. Persian’s claws dug into the dirt. “You promised me that Meowth wouldn’t get hurt if I started the Club. Then you turned around and made one half of the Club try to kill the other!” Mr. Persian exclaimed. “I was willing to do anything you asked. But I draw the line at you harming my son.”

How dare you defy me?! Your attachment to Meowth has ruined you. For this, I will destroy you!

That is what Meowth expected her to say. The actual Emily, however, seemed…solemn? “I suppose that’s fair. And, considering the warzone surrounding us now, I don’t know if I can blame you for it.” She gestured the way they came.

Meowth was not having this. “Are you just going to stand here and pretend like this isn’t your own army?”

“If you guys hadn’t forced Mr. Persian and me to make the Club, we wouldn’t be in a warzone right now!” Minichino added. “You guys are just the worst!”

“Yes, we are ‘the worst.’ This entire situation was built on cruelty.” Emily raised her massive flippers. “Forcing the recruits to sacrifice their memories. Pulling businesses into our sphere of control. Deceiving the civilians. All of it. But what other path is there for us to take? How could we hide the building of an army in plain sight? Forge bases of operations, training grounds, and storage for us all without coming at a ruinous price?”

Minichino squinted at her, angry. “You could, like, not do any of that, maybe?”

Emily squatted down a little to better meet Minichino. “I understand that my pursuit is taboo to a world like yours, that doesn’t know of anything better. In circumstances like these, sacrifices have to be made to move forward. And unfortunately, one of the first things to be sacrificed is the ability to fight ‘purely’ and with dignity.”

“This sounds like an elaborate way to say you have no morals,” Meowth said. “No wonder you sent a bunch of—”

Plink.

An energy coin had been tossed right in the middle of his sentence, aiming straight for Emily’s eyes. But it wasn’t Meowth’s — the one who had struck first was Mr. Persian. Unfortunately for them, a glowing barrier of light formed around Emily, leaving the coin to bounce off and dissolve in the rain.

“I’m so sorry, all of you. But if I let you go, the future of our mission will be put into jeopardy — and so too will the future of your world.” The empoleon’s booming voice accompanied her somehow rising into the air, pink energy flowing around her head. “For the sake of everyone, and for the power of life I’ve been given, I will not let our hope die! Please…forgive me for this!”

All at once, a psychic wave burst from the empoleon, and Minichino and Mr. Persian were launched away. Meowth barely had enough time to catch her giant flipper swinging for him with both his claws…then he couldn’t stop the other flipper from making him double over. Before he knew it, he was on the ground with stinging cuts.

Minichino was stubborn — even after seeing Meowth go down, she charged in, tail dripping with water, and was immediately given a reason to regret it. As if swimming through the air, Emily dove forward, spinning like a drill with her beak as its tip. Minichino was mowed down at high speed, sending her tumbling through the damp grass.

Meowth slowly climbed to his feet just in time to watch Emily land. She turned to him, glaring firmly. “Now that I’ve shown you how the power I possess, do you wish to continue this fight? I wouldn’t blame you if you had a change of heart.”

Meowth held a paw over one of the gashes. Only a couple blows and already they were struggling to stay standing. It would’ve been hard enough to fight back on a bright sunny day… He still had a few healing berries left, but Emily was too fast for him to sneak one into his mouth. If they had any chance of escape at all, it was extremely—

KRRRAK. KRRRAK.

The first flash of lightning revealed a cream-colored cat clinging from a tree behind Emily. By the time the second struke, he was on her back, head peeking over her shoulder.

“Goooo!!” Mr. Persian only yelled for a second, instead focusing on sinking his teeth into her blubber. It didn’t seem to hurt much, but Emily still looked panicked, reaching for her back to pry Mr. Persian off of her.

For a moment, Meowth stood there, stunned. Was he…sacrificing himself? For them? For him?

Of course he was. He’d been sacrificing himself from day one. Until now, Meowth had simply never seen it with his own eyes.

“Meowth! Come on!” He felt Minichino tug at his arm. Gritting his teeth, Meowth turned for the forest. They could only hope that the dungeon was close.

Weeks ago, Meowth had chosen to ‘play Mr. Persian’s game’. To find out why he had abandoned him. To learn what he was using him for.

“Mr. Persian, get out of the way!” Emily’s voice pierced through the rain.

“I won’t…!” Mr. Persian cried. “Anything you do to them, you can do to me instead!”

There was his answer. Mr. Persian was never a player in this game. He wasn’t the one who made Politoed and Breloom give a disappointed sigh whenever he entered their dorm. He wasn’t the one who made Minichino grumble at how bored he was in the Club. He wasn’t the one who made Poliwrath and Chip arrest him. He wasn’t the one who made Mathew poison him.

KRRRAK.

Meowth passed by a pair of trees with a strip of yellow painted around its bark. He couldn’t see Minichino anymore.

It was just himself and the storm.

There was no one left to blame.

---

Mathew didn’t want to get up. If standing up meant having to face Mark clubbing him in the face, he’d rather plant his snout into the dirt forever.

Anything but this.

“Come on, get up already!” Mark’s black and blue scales blended in with the rain and the night as he prepared to follow up. “I didn’t tell them to leave you to me so you could bury your head all night!”

Mathew could only manage to take two prods from the sharp spear before he was forced to struggle to his feet and back away. There was a distance between the two of them and the other shadows dancing around the trees — Mark wasn’t bluffing. Weakly, he held up his club in a defensive pose and mustered a shrill whisper. “Why…”

“Because, Dad!” He spat a small flame at the tip of his spear, but the rain doused it. “You had one job. All you had to do was get yourself hired, and we could’ve went and saved the world together. But now look! Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

“Of course I do!” Mathew eagerly reached into the binder, turning the blueprints for Mark to see. “These blueprints I got are extremely detailed. And we can definitely buy all of these parts online!”

Mark just shook his head, turning himself around and pulling the covers over him. “And I thought you’d already gone crazy before.”

“Hey, that’s what I’m saying!” He joked. “Until that light literally threw this in my face, I really thought this was it for—”

Mathew’s head pulsed from the force Mark put into smacking him with the spear. “Say something!”

He brought the spear down from above, but Mathew raised to block. “Mark, after what they put me through, I…” he knocked away the attack, but couldn’t motivate himself to retaliate. The moment Mathew even so much as laid a finger on him, he would be beyond saving.

“Hey, don’t act like you’re the only one who’s got it tough!” Mark exclaimed. He took a moment to do a strange twirling motion with his staff. For some reason, this seemed to agitate him even more. “Urgh. How do you think it felt to wait two months for you to finally make it here, then you go off and kill one of our buddies?! This is hard for me!”

“‘Hard’ is right. Honestly, naming the thing you made is half the battle.” Mathew sheepishly scratched at his shoulder. “Give something a stupid name, and even if the actual project is amazing, people will still laugh at it…”

Mark peered away from the detailed sketch of the device. “Like Cat-Tongue?”

He huffed, grinning. “Like Cat-Tongue, yeah.”

Mark turned back to the page, tapping the eraser of his pencil against the tip of his mouth. “Well, if this thing is supposed to go on your wrist like a watch, I guess you could call it, like, a wristlet or something—”

Mathew was brought back to reality by a fireball launching him onto his back. A searing pain coated his chest. By the time he raised his head, Mark was already preparing another. He hardly had the will to dodge.

He didn’t need to. Joey collapsed on top of him, shielding his body with his own. The totodile winced as the flames singed his back. He shakily got up and looked to the marowak. “So this is what you moseyed off to, Mark?”

Mark gasped, lowering his spear and his hand. “Who the heck? You stay out of this!”

“Hah?” Surprised, his hand came off of his hat. “You don’t recognize me?”

The reunion was broken off by a floating axe coated in static slashing at Joey. A yellow lynx-like pokémon followed after it, tackling the totodile. “I got this one!” she called out to Mark in a squeaky voice. She dragged him away, axe gliding by her side.

Mathew looked on in helpless disbelief. How had it come to this? Putting his relationship with Joey aside, working under high stakes again and again, fighting Meowth…and this was what OCEAN had intended to repay him with?

All he’d wanted was to find some peace in this world…and look where it got him.

As Mark moved in for another strike, all Mathew could do was collapse and cry. Everything he worked himself up for was a waste — a lie. He’d lost any reason to fight.

Mathew waited for a finishing blow.

And waited.

It never came.

When Mathew looked up, Mark had his spear poised to stab, but he hesitated to bring it down. In his wavy vision, he could see a stunned expression on his son’s face. “Dad—”

Just then, a jet of water blasted Mark away, giving Mathew room to rise.

The time, the save wasn’t from Joey.

A figure leapt over Mathew’s head, coming down on Mark with a glowing yellow blade extending like a horn. Its glow exposed the colt’s bright red mane, matted down by the downpour.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding…!” Mark stepped away from the Legendary Pokémon, seeming just as surprised as Mathew.

“You gotta get out of here!” Keldeo called out as he lowered into a battle position. “We’ll come find you after the dungeon shifts. Lay low until then!”

Mathew rose and watched as Keldeo charged at with a frenzy of swings. Even as a quadruped, he was outmatching his son’s spear skills handily like a seasoned sword fighter. Nearby, Mathew could see similar blades between the trees — blue, green, and red — cutting through the night.

“Mathew!”

The cubone flinched at a hand touching his shoulder. Somehow, Jermy had found him in the chaos, holding ORB in one arm and using him as a massive flashlight.

“Come on!” he told him. “You heard what they said!”

“But Mark, he’s…” But before Mathew could think, ORB’s claw lurched forward and grabbed his arm, Both the robot and the pikachu pulled him along. “Wait, Jermy, stop!”

“Did you forget what Politoed said about the shift?” ORB said. “Keeping physical contact is necessary for our escape.”

Mathew tried to break out of their grip, but he couldn’t find the strength. All he could do was watch as Mark got farther…and farther…and farther away.

None of this had to happen.

None of this should have happened.

None of this would have happened, if he wasn’t so fucked up.

Desperation boiled inside of Mathew, and with newfound force, he shoved out of Jermy and ORB’s hands, running back for his son. The pikachu stumbled, dropping the robot.

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark!!”

He couldn’t escape the dungeon in time.

A flash of light filled his vision.

And then, darkness.

---

End of Book I: The Scourge of Kalmwa’er

Notes:

We usually don’t take the time to do author’s notes because we prefer to let the story speak for itself, but eh, this is where the ‘about the author’ section would usually go in a book, so why not?

Hey there, this is Luker speaking on behalf of my other team members, Dommy and Paper. We wanted to give a huge ‘thank you’ to everyone who has followed Double-Edged over the years.

The journey it’s taken to reach this point has been long, arduous, and sometimes very difficult. We made the beginner’s mistake of getting into the big epic project too fast without learning lessons from smaller, more achievable projects, and it shows in the many versions this story has gone through. When I first joined that silly little RP in December of 2017, I could never have known that I would still be working on it in 2024! Still, I learned so much about storytelling and writing from all this that I’m not sure how much of it I’d take back if I could.

If you’ve been with us even before our reboots and revisions, we deeply appreciate you. I can’t imagine it was the best experience to have as a reader, seeing all that you just read get torn down and put up again. Trust me, it wasn’t very fun to be known as ‘the rewrite guys’ for a good while either.

But hey, we made it in the end. We officially finished Book I: The Scourge of Kalmwa’er. And if you ask me, it’s a pretty good read.

By the way, you should know that Double-Edged has undergone four big iterations. It started out as a roleplay with a few friends that became more tightly knit after Dommy and I worked closely together to plot things out. Once the team settled, we decided to reboot and make a new RP without the baggage of people who left, which gave birth to the Kalmwa’er story. We first wrote a more faithful adaptation of our RP (what is now called Double-Edged CLASSIC on fanfiction.net), but then wrote ourselves into a corner and realized we needed to start again, resulting in the story you see now.

I bring this up because it’s closely tied to the origins of Book II. The next arc in the story is a reimagining of that first RP, a story that’s quite different from The Scourge of Kalmwa’er. We’re really excited to play it out, so stay tuned!

I’d like to give special thanks to everyone who has supported and reviewed Double-Edged so far. In particular, Namohysip (author of Hands of Creation), Bonehead (author of Crossroads), SnapDragon (author of Flowerbeds), Dr. Glutamate (author of Traveler from the Stars), and MadderJacker (author of A Home Far Away) have all served as sources of knowledge, advice, and inspiration; Double-Edged would have been lesser without them. If you are looking for more fics to read while awaiting updates from us, you should try these other authors’ works.

Thank you for reading this far! See you in Book II!

—LukerUpgradez, DommyMcDoodle, and PaperCutz

Chapter 26: Log 1: Nail

Interlude I: The BL Logs

---

Meeting R-0002-01

Transcript from Thursday, 9/24/65

Subject: “Nail”

{15:38:22} [user_COSTUME opened room_R-0002-01.]

{15:38:30} [user_ABYSS has joined the room.]

{15:38:30} ABYSS: Costume!! Hi!!!

{15:38:45} COSTUME: Good afternoon, Abyss.

{15:38:52} [user_SEADOG has joined the room.]

{15:39:01} SEADOG: Ah. Abyss beat me to the first join again

{15:39:01} ABYSS: Fast fingers >:D

{15:39:17} COSTUME: Welcome, Seadog. How are matters on your end?

{15:39:29} SEADOG: They are...alright. The diplomatic meeting with the Floridians is coming up quick

{15:39:37} SEADOG: For obvious reasons, I am somewhat nervous.

{15:39:37} ABYSS: Good luck Seadog…………….

{15:39:51} COSTUME: I am nervous myself. I do hope your deal ends amicably, for everyone’s sake. It would be an unfortunate waste otherwise.

{15:41:13} [user_KEY has joined the room.]

{15:41:13} ABYSS: Hi Key!!!!!

{15:41:15} KEY: sup

{15:41:28} COSTUME: Good afternoon, Key. How was the drive?

{15:41:31} KEY: kinda a pain in the ass ngl

{15:41:35} KEY: those guys i told you about kept hounding me

{15:41:36} KEY: but i made it

{15:41:53} COSTUME: Excellent. That means we can now address the topic at hand.

{15:42:05} COSTUME: Abyss, would you please recount the minutes of our previous relevant meetings?

{15:42:12} ABYSS: Yeah sure!!!!

{15:42:15} ABYSS: Two days ago, Costume opened meeting G-0156-20, one of several wellness checks intended to ensure the positivity and productivity of Nevada branch member Nail, AKA Upfbsa.

{15:42:15} ABYSS: Despite having never joined any previous meetings later than eight minutes, twenty seconds after creation, Nail proceeded not to join the meeting at any time.

{15:42:16} ABYSS: Upon observing this, Key proceeded to privately message Arizona branch member Spur, who should be in close contact with Nail. When no reply was given, further messages were sent to Arizona branch member Dolphin. Neither replied to any prompt.

{15:42:16} ABYSS: All three members are now presumed out of commission for unknown reasons. This meeting is one of two as part of a mission to determine the status of the members. Due to proximity, Key was requested to approach Nail’s home first.

{15:42:23} SEADOG: Ah, the beauty of well-written minutes…

{15:42:27} KEY: yeah abyss has a way with that

{15:42:29} KEY: took a lot of work to get him that way

{15:42:30} KEY: but it was worth it

{15:42:45} COSTUME: It’s incredible how elegantly it’s written, considering your own work, Key.

{15:42:47} KEY: wow

{15:42:48} KEY: okay

{15:42:50} KEY: my minutes werent THAT bad

{15:42:55} ABYSS: Thanks guys!!! :D

{15:42:55} ABYSS: You know, I can always make better and better reports than that……..

{15:42:56} ABYSS: Anyways, now that my minutes are complete, how is your visit to Nail’s house going, Key?

{15:43:37} KEY: sorry needed a hot second to settle in

{15:43:40} KEY: just got here a couple minutes ago

{15:43:44} KEY: already did the song and dance thing he wanted us to do in emergencies

{15:43:48} KEY: (i looked like a dumbass, it was great)

{15:43:50} KEY: no answer

{15:44:04} SEADOG: doesn’t Nail have that machine manning his home? What was it called… Buttons?

{15:44:06} KEY: yup

{15:44:08} KEY: which means getting in by force

{15:44:11} KEY: is gonna take a while

{15:44:24} COSTUME: We’ll give you a few minutes, then.

{15:44:29} KEY: aight

---

{15:56:47} ABYSS: How’s it going??????

{15:58:36} KEY: tried finding a way around

{15:58:39} KEY: fuckers too clever to let me sneak by

{15:58:41} KEY: back doors locked too

{15:58:44} KEY: looks like im busting out the keyboard

{15:58:46} ABYSS: :(

{15:58:47} ABYSS: You want me to come over?? I could get there in no time…….

{15:59:03} KEY: nah

{15:59:06} KEY: not while youre looking into spur and dolphin

{15:59:07} KEY: you wouldnt get past this anyway

{15:59:09} KEY: nail knows how to keep you out

{15:59:10} ABYSS: Awwwwww, I’m sad that you’re right…….

{15:59:21} SEADOG: You can do this, Key. If anybody can work through Buttons, it’s you

{15:59:35} COSTUME: ...But remember that there’s no shame if you can’t.

---

{16:22:03} KEY: son of a bitch

{16:22:06} KEY: nails got this thing encrypted front to back

{16:22:09} KEY: i KNOW there’s a protocol in here that deactivates it

{16:22:11} KEY: he showed me it forever ago

{16:22:15} KEY: i just

{16:22:16} KEY: cant find it

{16:24:40} COSTUME: Perhaps it was a bad idea to separate you and Abyss. In hindsight, we should’ve handled these cases one at a time.

{16:25:01} COSTUME: I imagine Nail would likely have revealed himself if both of you were there…if he is still alive, that is.

{16:25:16} KEY: if???

{16:25:19} KEY: the hell are you talking about

{16:25:21} KEY: nail is alive.

{16:25:24} KEY: i dont have to break in to know that

{16:25:32} COSTUME: I wouldn’t be so sure.

{16:25:55} COSTUME: I think we can all agree that Nail has not been in a good place even before he joined us.

{16:26:14} COSTUME: And, with what we heard in the past three meetings, his situation worsened significantly recently.

{16:26:22} KEY: shut up

{16:26:25} KEY: i talked with nail irl way more than you did

{16:26:27} SEADOG: Let’s not get at each other’s throats

{16:26:30} KEY: nail would not kill himself. not a chance

{16:26:34} KEY: im not mad lol

{16:26:36} KEY: just telling costume shes wrong

{16:26:45} COSTUME: Fair enough.

{16:27:07} COSTUME: You should consider asking around the neighborhood. If I remember correctly, Nail said his neighbors were decent enough.

{16:27:18} COSTUME: Maybe they could provide some insight.

{16:27:26} KEY: good plan

---

{16:41:40} KEY: aight

{16:41:41} KEY: asked around

{16:41:44} KEY: apparently nail was acting his normal self

{16:41:48} KEY: before he disappeared and everything

{16:41:50} ABYSS: Did they say anything about him sounding relieved???? That is an important sign to look out for.

{16:41:57} KEY: nope

{16:42:12} COSTUME: It seems the mentality doesn’t quite line up for the act of taking his own life.

{16:42:29} COSTUME: Still, that leaves us with no explanation as to why he would either stay in his house and not answer, or, in the case that he is not inside, why he would run off…

{16:43:52} KEY: goddamnit

{16:43:55} KEY: cant believe this shit is happening again

{16:44:00} [Message from user_KEY deleted.]

{16:44:11} COSTUME: Key, you know that that username is blacklisted in the automod.

{16:44:19} KEY: i know but

{16:44:22} KEY: it legit is almost the exact same thing

{16:44:29} SEADOG: Why are you so concerned about similarities with the Mjyvojses situation, anyway?

{16:44:32} KEY: oh yeah, forgot to censor

{16:44:35} KEY: anyways

{16:44:36} KEY: because

{16:44:43} KEY: i dont WANT mjyvojses to happen again

{16:44:59} SEADOG: Ah, that makes more sense. If you mean more disappearances, no, I do not. But that was 10+ years ago

{16:45:13} SEADOG: The circumstances are quite different. I’m not sure they are as comparable as you think

{16:45:21} KEY: that i can kinda agree with

{16:45:24} KEY: this time the answers arent out of our reach

{16:45:26} KEY: if i can just get past buttons

{16:45:28} KEY: im sure well know exactly what happened to nail

{16:45:51} COSTUME: The answers do seem cruelly close, but don’t get too fixated on one idea.

{16:46:04} COSTUME: Maybe going inside Nail’s house won’t reveal anything.

{16:46:19} COSTUME: Maybe there’s a reason Nail didn’t want us knowing what he was doing.

{16:46:43} COSTUME: ...Key?

{16:47:23} ABYSS: Key are you okay????

{16:47:50} KEY: give me a bit

---

{18:01:10} SEADOG: Key, it’s been an hour now. Please tell us what you’re doing

{18:01:50} KEY: ive been trying to crack it still

{18:02:00} KEY: nothing

{18:02:04} KEY: now im getting weird stares from people

{18:02:31} COSTUME: Key.

{18:02:43} COSTUME: Go home. That’s an order.

{18:02:58} COSTUME: You worked hard. You should go take a break. Get a meal, if you’d like.

{18:05:25} KEY: ugh

{18:05:26} KEY: alright

{18:05:29} ABYSS: It’s okay Key!!!!

{18:05:29} ABYSS: Knowing our luck my investigation tomorrow won’t go any better.

{18:05:30} ABYSS: We’ll be failures together!!!!

{18:05:42} KEY: thanks abyss

{18:05:43} KEY: i appreciate it

{18:07:51} KEY: asked the neighbors to let the cops know if they see him

{18:07:55} KEY: gonna drive back now

{18:07:55} KEY: cya

{18:08:01} ABYSS: Bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

{18:08:01} [user_ABYSS has left the room.]

{18:08:14} [user_KEY has left the room.]

{18:10:24} COSTUME: Thank you for trying to ease Key’s worries for me. I would have done it myself, but…

{18:11:45} SEADOG: I understand. We can discuss this privately later

{18:12:02} SEADOG: We have more to do between Nail and Spur and the Floridians. Let’s just keep our focus on that

{18:12:21} COSTUME: Right. Again, thanks, Seadog. I really appreciate it.

{18:17:02} [user_COSTUME has left the room.]

{18:17:49} [user_SEADOG has left the room.]

{18:17:49} [Archiving room_R-0002-01…]

{18:17:51} [Archival complete. room_R-0002-01 is now closed.]

Chapter 27: Log 2: Spur and Dolphin

Meeting R-0002-02

Transcript from Friday, 9/25/65

Subject: “Spur and Dolphin”

{11:10:34} [user_COSTUME opened room_R-0002-02.]

{11:12:15} [user_SEADOG has joined the room.]

{11:12:43} SEADOG: My attendance will be spotty for this. Currently splitting my attention between this and negotiation planning

{11:12:58} COSTUME: Understood. Just post when you can. I should be able to handle most of this myself.

{11:13:22} [user_KEY has joined the room.]

{11:13:25} KEY: yo

{11:13:40} COSTUME: Good morning, Key. Are you feeling any better?

{11:13:44} KEY: yeah

{11:13:46} KEY: i did some thinking

{11:13:49} KEY: just gonna play by ear for now

{11:13:51} KEY: before i do anything else

{11:14:01} COSTUME: That sounds wise.

{11:17:22} SEADOG: I wonder where Abyss’s “fast fingers” are now?

{11:17:25} KEY: probably on the wheel

{11:17:27} KEY: he said hed leave at 9

{11:17:30} KEY: but phoenix is pretty f

{11:17:30} KEY: far

{11:17:31} KEY: from where he was

{11:17:32} KEY: iirc

{11:17:39} SEADOG: Ah, yes, his fake hands are on the wheel that he doesn’t need to use. But alright

{11:17:43} COSTUME: I am going to suggest we go ahead and start while we wait for Abyss. He can catch up after he arrives.

{11:17:55} SEADOG: I have no objections to that

{11:18:06} COSTUME: Alright. Key, the recount, if you would?

{11:18:10} KEY: whats there to say really

{11:18:13} KEY: i went to nails house

{11:18:15} KEY: fucked around for a couple hours

{11:18:16} KEY: and went home

{11:18:26} COSTUME: …See, this is why we started splitting up who gives the minutes each meeting.

{11:18:30} KEY: lol

{11:18:53} [user_ABYSS has joined the room.]

{11:18:53} ABYSS: Hi guys!!!!!!!!!!

{11:18:57} KEY: hey

{11:19:06} COSTUME: Good morning, Abyss. Are you in Phoenix now?

{11:19:19} ABYSS: Yeah I am!! Actually I have been for the past couple hours :D

{11:19:20} ABYSS: I thought I should begin the investigation by paying the police dept a visit before I went to the house.

{11:19:20} ABYSS: You’ll never believe what I saw……………..

{11:19:41} COSTUME: Do share, then.

{11:19:56} [User_ABYSS posted an image. Images are automatically deleted after five minutes.]

{11:20:03} KEY: oh damn

{11:20:05} [Transcript complete.]

{11:20:05} [IMAGE TRANSCRIPT: MISSING — Sheriff [NIBXPJKS]. Last seen Sunday, the 20th. Reward: $68,000. Tip line: ***-***-****]

{11:20:12} COSTUME: Well. The force there is certainly on top of things.

{11:20:18} ABYSS: Yeah!!! With this poster and bounty, there are a lot of people on the lookout :0

{11:20:20} KEY: not that crazy tbh

{11:20:20} KEY: i mean

{11:20:21} KEY: if the sheriff in my city

{11:20:23} KEY: literally just up and dipped

{11:20:25} KEY: id get everyone on it too

{11:20:37} SEADOG: If I may note, this might not be as optimistic of a look as we’d like to think it is. If he’s still missing, even with the city searching for him, it could be a bad sign

{11:20:49} COSTUME: Let’s not say anything definitive until Abyss gets more information. Please, let us know when you’ve made your search through Spur and Dolphin’s home.

{11:20:54} ABYSS: Will do!!!!!!!!!!

---

{11:44:12} ABYSS: Okay. Got some intel…………

{11:46:02} SEADOG: How much of the house did the officers allow you to see?

{11:46:03} ABYSS: A lot, actually!!!!

{11:46:04} ABYSS: Safe to say……. This is a weird case :/

{11:46:06} KEY: you hate to hear it

{11:46:18} COSTUME: Please, explain what made it so strange.

{11:46:20} ABYSS: For one, it doesn’t look like a kidnapping. There aren’t any signs of a struggle or a break-in.

{11:46:21} ABYSS: But there is no indication that Spur and Dolphin fled the home, either. All of their belongings have not been disturbed, and there was no proof of them packing up luggage of any sort. Even their car is still here.

{11:46:22} ABYSS: I ran through some transcripts of the officers’ interviews with their friends and colleagues. According to them, nothing seemed out of the ordinary with either one before the disappearance. A few even confirmed that everything in the house seemed to be in the same place as it was the last time they had visited the property.

{11:46:23} ABYSS: All in all, the trail is pretty cold :(

{11:46:57} SEADOG: Very unfortunate. Is there really no evidence to go off of?

{11:47:01} KEY: ngl

{11:47:02} KEY: i feel like the fact that there is

{11:47:04} KEY: straight up nothing to go off of

{11:47:06} KEY: is way weirder than if there were clues

{11:47:07} ABYSS: Well, there was one thing!!!! But the officers just don’t really know what to make of it

{11:47:08} ABYSS: And, to be honest…….. Neither do I.

{11:47:14} SEADOG: You, confused? This has to be interesting

{11:47:15} KEY: ??? what is it

{11:47:18} ABYSS: In the master bedroom, the officers found three patches of an unknown substance on the floor. It was very unusual; none of my databases have any information of a substance like it.

{11:47:19} ABYSS: The officers explained it like this…………

{11:47:20} ABYSS: Do you remember what happens when petrol and water mix?

{11:47:36} COSTUME: Of course. It makes this sort of gross, mushy rainbow color.

{11:47:37} ABYSS: Think that, but with dust instead of water.

{11:47:49} SEADOG: Hang on. How does that even work? The rainbow stems from the liquid substances

{11:48:02} SEADOG: Is each individual grain a different color?

{11:48:03} ABYSS: It is a highly unusual substance. :/

{11:48:04} KEY: okay

{11:48:06} KEY: is there alarm bells going on in anybody elses head rn

{11:48:06} KEY: because

{11:48:08} KEY: that is WEIRD

{11:48:11} KEY: and not what happens when somebody dies or something

{11:48:29} COSTUME: Let’s not make any rash assumptions. Did you find any kind of gasoline in the household?

{11:48:30} ABYSS: Not at all…….. Besides, Dolphin would not keep gasoline in her house. It would be against what I know of her character.

{11:48:33} KEY: so whatever this shit is

{11:48:35} KEY: it had to come from somebody else

{11:48:36} KEY: right?

{11:50:04} COSTUME: I feel as though I should remind you that the officers have found no evidence of a break-in, by Abyss’ testimony.

{11:50:06} KEY: whats your opinion on this then?

{11:50:08} KEY: what happened to spur and dolphin?

{11:50:09} KEY: where do we look next?

{11:50:10} ABYSS: It’s a high profile case!!!!! And they’ve been looking alot around this dust! If there was proof, we’d probably be close to finding it by now…….

{11:50:22} COSTUME: I’m unsure. I don’t feel like we can definitively state whether they are alive, much less left somewhere for us to look next.

{11:50:24} KEY: okay

{11:50:24} KEY: costume

{11:50:25} KEY: with all due respect

{11:50:27} KEY: shutting down literally every theory

{11:50:28} KEY: and offering no ideas

{11:50:30} KEY: other than the ones where they just mysteriously die

{11:50:31} KEY: is not fucking helping

{11:50:32} ABYSS: Woah.

{11:50:40} SEADOG: Keep things civil here, you two

{11:50:45} COSTUME: I’m sorry if I’ve given off the wrong impression, Key.

{11:50:47} KEY: im sorry, i just DO NOT get it

{11:50:49} KEY: three of our best members vanish into thin air

{11:50:51} KEY: all of us have deja vu

{11:50:53} KEY: things are getting weird

{11:50:53} ABYSS: Key, let Costume type!!!!!!!!!!

{11:50:55} KEY: and youre not curious at all???

{11:50:56} KEY: sorry

{11:51:05} COSTUME: It’s not that I’m not curious or concerned for their safeties. But we all need to remember what we’re here for. We can’t afford to get our hopes up and chase conspiracies that we have no basis with to determine their actual existence.

{11:51:19} COSTUME: Regardless of their actual fates, we need to address the reality of the situation. We sought to determine their conditions, and the answer is that they are gone. We now need to act accordingly.

{11:52:17} SEADOG: I understand, Key. I really do. It’s difficult to lose a friend, or several friends, so suddenly

{11:52:26} SEADOG: You were closer to all three of them than any of us, I know that

{11:52:34} SEADOG: But life’s just not fair sometimes

{11:52:46} SEADOG: I’ve had friends just up and leave the Navy one day. I’ve had friends who seemed invincible perish in a random Floridian skirmish

{11:52:58} SEADOG: If there’s anything I can do for you, please, speak with me after this meeting.

{11:53:09} SEADOG: But for now, there is little we, as a collective, can do. The best action we can take is to be patient and wait for answers, then act accordingly

{11:53:22} COSTUME: I hope this is making sense to you, Key.

{11:55:46} KEY: yeah

{11:55:47} KEY: i get it

{11:55:49} KEY: ill let it be i guess

{11:55:50} ABYSS: Sorry Key…….. :(

{11:55:51} ABYSS: Anyway, the officers agreed to let me take a small sample of the dust!!! I’m gonna run an analysis of this through a wider internet search

{11:55:52} ABYSS: Key, do you want me to update you when I receive more data???

{11:56:06} KEY: if anybodys posted about it on the internet

{11:56:08} KEY: the answer is

{11:56:10} KEY: probably lol

{11:57:11} COSTUME: Alright. You two can research that on your own time. With that out of the way, I believe we can return to our regularly scheduled meetings.

{11:57:23} SEADOG: Then I will see you all in three days, to keep you updated on the matters of my actual negotiations with the Floridians.

{11:57:24} ABYSS: Looks like this meeting’s over!!! So I’m gonna drive to Key’s!!!!!!!! Bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

{11:57:25} [user_ABYSS has left the room.]

{11:57:46} SEADOG: Getting back to discussions now. Have a nice afternoon

{11:57:47} [user_SEADOG has left the room.]

{11:57:51} KEY: sorry about all that costume

{11:57:53} KEY: both now

{11:57:54} KEY: and in advance

{11:57:57} [user_KEY has left the room.]

{11:57:59} COSTUME: What do you mean, in -- oh

{11:58:09} [user_COSTUME has left the room.]

{11:58:09} [Archiving room_R-0002-02…]

{11:58:11} [Archival complete. room_R-0002-02 is now closed.]

Chapter 28: Log 3: Seadog

Meeting F-0031-01

Transcript from Monday, 9/28/65

Subject: “Seadog”

{14:51:23} [user_COSTUME opened room_F-0031-01.]

{14:53:11} [user_SEADOG has joined the room.]

{14:53:25} COSTUME: Good morning, Seadog. How are you feeling?

{14:53:34} SEADOG: Uneasy. This is going to be a long negotiation

{14:53:51} COSTUME: I don’t blame you. It’s not like the Floridian Empire is particularly easy to work with. I wish I could be there to help the rest of the Congress.

{14:54:02} SEADOG: I thought all of this preparation would ease my worries, but they haven’t. I would really like to stop being at war

{14:54:23} COSTUME: A part of me hopes they will realize they wouldn’t be able to take any more casualties in a longer war and give up Panama. Another part of me doesn’t want to put that much stock in their decision-making.

{14:54:46} [user_KEY has joined the room.]

{14:54:48} [user_ABYSS has joined the room.]

{14:54:48} SEADOG: As long as they’re committed to using the Caribbean to compensate for their sinking mainland territory, I don’t believe they will want to give up their control of the ocean without more fighting or a heavy trade.

{14:54:48} ABYSS: Hello!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

{14:54:49} KEY: sup

{14:55:02} SEADOG: That’s the reason why I’m concerned. Anyways, hello

{14:55:03} ABYSS: Hey, you guys started before we could give the minutes D:

{14:55:18} COSTUME: Sorry, Abyss. We are somewhat tight on time. I didn’t intend on opening this room so late.

{14:55:20} KEY: thats fair

{14:55:22} KEY: it was kinda helpful ngl

{14:55:26} KEY: made the most of the extra time

{14:55:27} ABYSS: Yeah, we’re all good!!!!!!!!!!

{14:55:46} COSTUME: In any case, I think you’re right to be concerned, Seadog. These so-called “Florida men” haven’t exactly proven that they wouldn’t stoop as low as to spring a surprise attack if given the opportunity.

{14:55:47} ABYSS: lol!!!

{14:55:51} SEADOG: No memes in a non-general chat, please

{14:55:51} KEY: lmfao

{14:55:57} COSTUME: …That’s a meme?

{14:55:58} KEY: seadog over here thinking costumes capable of intentional shitposts

{14:56:04} SEADOG: I was just being safe.

{14:56:07} COSTUME: If it is, it was indeed not intentional.

{14:56:33} SEADOG: Anyways, I’m not THAT concerned. I just don’t want to have to give up too much of our resources to make them back down.

{14:58:12} SEADOG: Meeting is starting in the next two minutes or so

{14:58:16} KEY: glhf

{14:58:34} COSTUME: Right. Keep us posted. Let us know if there is any way we can help.

{14:58:35} ABYSS: Go get them, Seadog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

---

{16:00:54} SEADOG: We are taking a recess now. I have no idea what I was worried about

{16:01:01} COSTUME: That is the best news I’ve heard all day!

{16:01:08} KEY: woah

{16:01:09} KEY: what changed

{16:01:16} SEADOG: It turns out these politicians actually do have some sense. We might be on the verge of a reasonable peace treaty where we get Panama

{16:01:17} KEY: legit?

{16:01:18} KEY: goddamn

{16:01:18} ABYSS: All that strategizing paid off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

{16:01:23} COSTUME: Fantastic work.

{16:01:29} SEADOG: Yes, I am incredibly relieved, as are my peers. The Floridian politicians are sounding positive as well, as far as I can see

{16:01:30} ABYSS: Wait a minute……… Most of those politicians participated in coordinating the war. Florida’s government is very hands on with its military……….

{16:01:34} KEY: oh shit

{16:01:36} KEY: you think we could do this right now?

{16:01:38} KEY: would be hella helpful

{16:01:43} COSTUME: …What would be helpful, Key?

{16:01:45} KEY: nothing crazy

{16:01:48} KEY: may as well

{16:01:51} KEY: were not doing much with this meeting anyway

{16:01:52} SEADOG: Would you and Abyss please care to explain what you’re talking about?

{16:01:54} KEY: so

{16:01:57} KEY: last meeting you said if there was anything you could do for me

{16:01:59} KEY: just to let you know right?

{16:02:05} COSTUME: I don’t like where this is going.

{16:02:11} SEADOG: I suppose I did, yes. Is there something you want me to do?

{16:02:12} ABYSS: Here is what you need to do:

{16:02:13} ABYSS: Calmly and clearly approach some of the politicians. As you do so, try to make small talk while respecting their security. Keep your distance so you don’t make them feel threatened.

{16:02:14} ABYSS: After you’ve established yourself, tell them that you are curious about something, not for tactical reasons, but out of concern. You want to know the whereabouts of General Bello Fobi.

{16:02:15} COSTUME: Abyss, what is this?

{16:02:15} ABYSS: Gauge their reactions to being asked this question. You are looking to see whether they are exceptionally defensive about who he is and what happened to him. Take note if they are calm, and their response seems unrehearsed. Report to us what you see.

{16:02:26} SEADOG: General Fobi? What does that bastard have to do with anything?

{16:02:28} KEY: long story

{16:02:29} KEY: well explain after you do the thing

{16:02:31} COSTUME: Huh, somehow I forgot to put that name in the blacklist. That is frustrating.

{16:02:49} COSTUME: Abyss, are you seriously suggesting Seadog walk up to the enemy and start probing them for information? Do you not realize the consequences that may have on the quality of their meeting?

{16:03:03} COSTUME: I’m vetoing this plan. Key, you should probably troubleshoot Abyss’ logic after this meeting.

{16:03:07} SEADOG: Does this have to do with the disappearances?

{16:03:09} KEY: long story short

{16:03:11} KEY: there is a small chance the floridians could have something to do with it

{16:03:12} KEY: if you do this

{16:03:14} KEY: we might be able to find out

{16:03:15} ABYSS: You are running out of time, Seadog…….. Recess is only so long D:

{16:03:20} COSTUME: …Did I not say that this research should be done on your own times?

{16:03:22} KEY: yeah

{16:03:23} KEY: but this is our only shot so

{16:03:37} SEADOG: Alright. If this will make things better, then I suppose today I will be Glitchtrap’s vessel

{16:03:39} KEY: i dunno wtf that means

{16:03:40} KEY: but thanks

{16:03:56} COSTUME: Seadog, are you actually entertaining this?! You realize you are jeopardizing your own meeting, right?

{16:04:34} COSTUME: Seadog, if you are at your keyboard, send a one-word message now, please.

{16:04:39} KEY: looks like hes doing it

{16:04:51} COSTUME: Key, what is wrong with you?! If Seadog angers those politicians, we could lose a clean Panama deal.

{16:05:08} COSTUME: You directly disobeyed my orders, and it could potentially put hundreds of thousands of more lives in danger.

{16:05:10} KEY: bro

{16:05:12} KEY: its not gonna be that bad

{16:05:15} KEY: worst case scenario is that seadog looks like a dumbass

{16:05:17} KEY: and he looks like a genius the rest of the time

{16:05:18} KEY: he can take it

{16:05:19} ABYSS: I prepared thirty five different versions of this plan. The version I provided Seadog is the most risk-adverse.

{16:05:19} ABYSS: He will be okay!!!!!!! :)

{16:05:37} COSTUME: Why are we even taking this risk at all?! We gain nothing from this, other than overstepping our bounds for the sake of affirming a conspiracy theory that we neither understand nor have any basis for.

{16:05:39} KEY: we are finding out about where the FUCK they went

{16:05:41} KEY: how many times do i have to say this?

{16:05:43} KEY: as long as theres even a chance we can find nail

{16:05:44} KEY: and spur

{16:05:44} KEY: and dolphin

{16:05:48} KEY: and mjyvojses

{16:05:51} KEY: we owe it to them to figure this out

{16:06:07} COSTUME: I see how it is. If nobody has any interest in listening to me, then I will leave this to you. You clearly have a better idea of what we should do.

{16:06:09} [user_COSTUME left the room.]

{16:06:10} KEY: shit

{16:06:14} KEY: ugh

{16:06:16} KEY: why is she fucking like this abyss

{16:06:18} KEY: i am talking about HER friends too

{16:06:23} KEY: abyss?

{16:06:34} KEY: oh ofc she disabled him so i cant do shit

{16:06:36} KEY: just heard him fall over in the other room

{16:06:37} KEY: goddammit

{16:06:40} [user_ABYSS has been kicked by user_KEY.]

{16:06:42} KEY: ill work on that later

{16:10:10} SEADOG: I see things went badly after I left.

{16:10:12} KEY: you could say that again

{16:10:16} SEADOG: I see things went badly after I left.

{16:10:17} KEY: oh screw off

{16:10:22} SEADOG: Sorry. I wanted to lighten the mood

{16:10:24} KEY: well thanks for trying

{16:10:27} KEY: howd the talk go

{16:10:35} SEADOG: Somehow, they were quite receptive. They said that he simply vanished one day

{16:10:41} SEADOG: Is that true? I thought he was decommissioned

{16:10:43} KEY: he disappeared yeah

{16:10:45} KEY: apparently his son’s gone too

{16:10:49} KEY: qpempdg/qpem is his name

{16:10:52} KEY: dunno if hes on the blacklist, but im not trying

{16:11:06} SEADOG: I can see some pattern recognition here. But we should probably deal with something else first

{16:11:08} KEY: yeah

{16:11:09} KEY: um

{16:11:11} KEY: any ideas at all?

{16:11:19} SEADOG: I might have an idea. Outside of our meetings, Costume has been quietly voicing her distress over this situation to me.

{16:11:24} SEADOG: She seems really concerned about what is going on.

{16:11:26} KEY: okay

{16:11:28} KEY: so its a front to make herself look calm

{16:11:29} KEY: that i can get

{16:11:31} KEY: but why order us NOT to look into it?

{16:11:39} SEADOG: I’m not really sure. I’ve tried asking her about it but she’s been somewhat dodgy.

{16:11:41} KEY: im gonna talk to her

{16:11:43} KEY: if shes not gonna listen to you

{16:11:46} KEY: shell listen to what i have to say

{16:11:48} KEY: im sure of it

{16:11:50} KEY: (no offense seadog)

{16:11:56} SEADOG: None taken. I know you and Costume are close as well.

{16:12:04} SEADOG: Just be careful. I’d hate for her to become any more upset

{16:12:07} KEY: ill be careful

{16:14:12} SEADOG: My recess is close to ending

{16:14:16} KEY: gotcha

{16:14:18} KEY: gl with the rest of your meeting

{16:14:20} KEY: one more yhing though

{16:14:20} KEY: thing

{16:14:25} SEADOG: What is it?

{16:14:27} KEY: i was wondering

{16:14:29} KEY since you brought it up

{16:14:32} KEY: whos glitchtrap

{16:14:38} SEADOG: You remember William Afton?

{16:14:39} KEY: oh

{16:14:41} KEY: its a fnaf character

{16:14:42} KEY: never mind

{16:14:45} [user_KEY has left the room.]

{16:14:47} SEADOG: A wise choice.

{16:14:50} [user_SEADOG has left the room.]

{16:14:50} [Archiving room_F-0031-01…]

{16:14:53} [Archival complete. room_F-0031-01 is now closed.]

Chapter 29: Log 4: Key and Costume

Direct Message

Transcript from Monday, 9/28/65

Participants: Key, Costume

{18:12:03} KEY: hey

{18:12:05} KEY: can we talk?

{18:14:39} KEY: sorry for fucking up your meeting

{18:14:42} KEY: i probably shouldve gone about all this differently

{18:14:44} KEY: maybe asked abyss not to do that

{18:14:50} KEY: it was a dick move

{18:23:17} COSTUME: Don’t worry about it.

{18:23:21} KEY: costume

{18:23:22} KEY: i gotta worry about it

{18:23:24} KEY: i know ive given you shit

{18:23:25} KEY: but you are our leader

{18:23:28} KEY: without you the western states would probably be fucked

{18:23:31} KEY: thats why i was trying to get you in on what i was finding

{18:23:33} KEY: and seadog obvs

{18:23:34} KEY: but you especially

{18:25:56} COSTUME: If that was your intention, I do appreciate your concern. But your presentation has come off as quite the opposite.

{18:26:00} COSTUME: You seem to have no respect for my choice in priorities.

{18:26:05} KEY: because i dont really understand your priorities

{18:26:08} KEY: and im not gonna understand them until you tell me

{18:26:15} KEY: does it not bother you that mjyvojses disappeared

{18:26:17} KEY: came back ONLY to see you

{18:26:18} KEY: and vanished again?

{18:26:20} KEY: and now weve lost nail spur and dolphin the same way?

{18:26:23} KEY: because it bothers the shit out of me

{18:26:25} KEY: and i wasnt even there when it happened

{18:26:28} KEY: so why write it off as a conspiracy theory and ignore it?

{18:30:41} COSTUME: Are you kidding? Of course it bothers me. I reflect on my conversation with MjyvOjses often.

{18:30:53} COSTUME: However, I also can’t help but think about what was said during her visit, more than the fact that it happened at all.

{18:30:56} KEY: what part of it?

{18:31:04} KEY: mjyvojses just came in to tell you that shes alive and we dont need to worry

{18:31:04} KEY: right?

{18:31:13} COSTUME: Well, yes. But there were other intentions there.

{18:31:25} COSTUME: MjyvOjses also asked me to call off any search for her, specifically because she was “walking a path she did not want us to follow.”

{18:31:27} KEY: wait

{18:31:28} KEY: she said that?

{18:31:29} KEY: i dont remember you saying that

{18:31:32} KEY: (tho it was a decade+ ago, that might be my bad)

{18:31:44} COSTUME: I never really said it out loud, although I figured honoring her request would make her wishes evident.

{18:32:00} COSTUME: Key… MjyvOjses has done a lot of good for this world. I think we can both agree on that.

{18:32:03} KEY: yea

{18:33:50} COSTUME: Here is the truth: I don’t really believe Nail, Spur, and Dolphin are simply missing or dead. But, if we completely commit to chasing after this, I worry we are going to discover the reason why MjyvOjses wanted us to stay out of whatever is causing this.

{18:34:29} COSTUME: I think it is going to be ugly. And I don’t really know if I want to entertain the possibility of seeing that.

{18:34:47} COSTUME: I know it’s unreasonable, but… She was a good friend.

{18:35:03} KEY: you know

{18:35:04} KEY: i guess i can kinda get that

{18:35:06} KEY: she was great back in the day

{18:35:07} KEY: but

{18:35:08} KEY: turning a blind eye

{18:35:11} KEY: just so she can keep looking good to us

{18:35:13} KEY: isnt gonna help things either

{18:35:15} KEY: maybe we couldve stayed out of it

{18:35:17} KEY: if everyone was still here

{18:35:19} KEY: but weve just lost three of our best members

{18:35:22} KEY: i know a lot about nails work but i cant replace him

{18:35:25} KEY: phoenix couldnt ask for a better sheriff than spur

{18:35:29} KEY: and the pacifics gonna be hurting without dolphin

{18:35:32} KEY: losing all that means we gotta act

{18:35:46} COSTUME: …You make a fair case. Operating without any of them would be much more difficult, much less all three at once.

{18:35:48} KEY: and if we find out mjyvojses wasnt all who she made herself out to be

{18:35:49} KEY: well

{18:35:49} KEY: forget her then

{18:35:51} KEY: we made it pretty far without her help anyway

{18:35:53} KEY: thanks to a certain somebody giving it her best all these years

{18:36:04} COSTUME: Thank you. I’m flattered, although I question the need for the compliment.

{18:36:08} KEY: you earned it after all this shit

{18:36:10} KEY: anyways

{18:36:13} KEY: im gonna stop being an ass and let you do your job

{18:36:15} KEY: whats our plan of action?

{18:36:21} COSTUME: First, I intend to re-enable Abyss.

{18:36:23} KEY: hell yeah

{18:36:39} COSTUME: Then, I’m going to message Seadog and see how the remainder of his meeting went. And also thank him as well.

{18:36:52} COSTUME: If the agreement went badly, our next objective will be to help him course correct.

{18:37:14} COSTUME: If it went well, we will be proceeding straight into efforts to track these disappearances tomorrow.

{18:37:28} COSTUME: Either way, you are right. We do need to unearth the truth about this. I’m sorry for struggling to come to that conclusion for this long.

{18:37:31} KEY: youre fine

{18:37:33} KEY: we were both acting stupid

{18:37:35} KEY: whichever one happens

{18:37:38} KEY: youve got both me and abyss backing you up

{18:37:54} COSTUME: I’m incredibly glad for that.

{00:00:01} [Archiving messages from 9/28/65…]

{00:00:02} [Archival complete.]

Chapter 30: Log 5: MjyvOjses

Meeting R-0001-13

Transcript from Tuesday, 9/29/65

Subject: “MjyvOjses”

{08:00:19} [user_COSTUME opened room_R-0001-13.]

{08:00:22} [user_ABYSS has joined the room.]

{08:00:31} [user_SEADOG has joined the room.]

{08:00:36} [user_KEY has joined the room.]

{08:00:41} KEY: damn were fast today

{08:00:59} COSTUME: I don’t know if I blame any of you for joining quickly, honestly. I am antsy to start unpacking this subject.

{08:01:10} SEADOG: Glad to hear it, Costume. We have a lot to talk about

{08:01:11} ABYSS: Do we need to do the minutes first??

{08:01:13} KEY: sure

{08:01:15} KEY: but make it quick

{08:01:16} ABYSS: One quick minutes, coming up!!!!!!!!!

{08:01:17} ABYSS: With Seadog’s peace negotiations out of the way, Costume told each of us that our next objective is to deduce the cause behind Nail, Spur, Dolphin, and MjyvOjses’ disappearances.

{08:01:17} ABYSS: It was expected that each of us research anything that connects these cases together, so we may develop plausible theories and find a way to the truth.

{08:01:29} KEY: there we go

{08:01:41} SEADOG: First thing’s first. Key, Abyss, I want to know what you found that convinced you that Bello has something to do with this

{08:01:43} KEY: both of us could explain

{08:01:45} KEY: but abyss types faster

{08:01:48} KEY: so ill let him do it

{08:01:50} ABYSS: On it!!!

{08:01:52} ABYSS: As previously noted, the substance that was found in Nail and Dolphin’s home is unrecognizable to any element currently known to exist in this universe. Information on this mystery substance is minimal.

{08:01:53} ABYSS: However, this is not the first time the dust has been seen. There are a few forums and obscure websites in which these strange cases are being discussed.

{08:01:54} ABYSS: Notably, every single occurrence of it is in relation to a recent disappearance in the area where it was found.

{08:02:03} SEADOG: You’re serious? If true, that is huge

{08:02:09} KEY: when abyss found this shit i was floored

{08:02:18} COSTUME: Please, send your sources for this. I want to know how I was not made aware of this at all.

{08:02:20} ABYSS: It wasn’t known to us because the majority of these disappearances occurred almost entirely on the east side of North America, not the west, as observed and cataloged on this forum[1].

{08:02:21} ABYSS: It seems that appearances of the dust has been noted, but not studied on a wider scale due to a lack of communication between similar cases, primarily because of inefficiency from law enforcement in those countries[2].

{08:02:22} ABYSS: The scientific community in the United States received no reply from relevant parties when seeking samples of the mystery substance, multiple times [3][4][5].

{08:02:22} [User_ABYSS posted a message with a hyperlink. Messages with hyperlinks are automatically deleted after five minutes.]

{08:02:39} SEADOG: So there’s a general apathy for these cases on their side of the world. Frustrating

{08:02:56} COSTUME: If we were positioned in the United States and not the Western States, Abyss would certainly have ensured law enforcement provided this dust for research years ago.

{08:02:57} ABYSS: You know it!!!!!!! :)

{08:03:11} SEADOG: Anyways, that explains the dust. But what does it have to do with the Floridians? I’m not seeing the connection

{08:03:14} KEY: well

{08:03:14} KEY: this dust

{08:03:16} KEY: showing up where all of these guys vanish

{08:03:18} KEY: its like a signature right?

{08:03:20} KEY: who or whatever is causing this

{08:03:22} KEY: plants this dust like a sorta marker

{08:03:24} KEY: so we can assume this isnt an accident

{08:03:27} KEY: somebody wants these people gone or moved or whatever

{08:03:28} KEY: and well

{08:03:29} KEY: whose population is kinda

{08:03:30} KEY: dying off?

{08:03:34} ABYSS: If a large body of people is conducting these disappearances, the Floridian Empire is our most likely candidate.

{08:03:35} ABYSS: It would explain why most of the disappearances are in the east, but some are in the west. They’re close in proximity to the United States, but could reach the Western States in secret if they wanted to.

{08:03:36} ABYSS: Considering their aggressive posturing, it is possible they intend to use these people as hostages for leverage in the wake of the Panama War.

{08:03:37} ABYSS: Alternatively, with the rising sea levels decreasing the size of their nation and the population shedding caused by the war, they could be forcefully bolstering their numbers somehow.

{08:03:55} SEADOG: Ah, I see.

{08:04:01} COSTUME: I can understand the justifications for your theory.

{08:04:20} KEY: cant believe we live in an era

{08:04:21} KEY: where florida

{08:04:23} KEY: could be literally abducting people

{08:04:25} KEY: to make more florida men

{08:04:33} SEADOG: Key, I should get Costume to kick you from this chat

{08:04:40} COSTUME: Okay, seriously, what’s so funny about Florida men?

{08:04:43} KEY: because

{08:04:45} KEY: theyre really dumb

{08:04:46} KEY: lol

{08:04:58} SEADOG: News websites liked to use the phrase ‘Florida man’ to describe individuals who tried really stupid things in the state of Florida

{08:05:03} SEADOG: Until around the 2020s

{08:05:05} KEY: yeah that

{08:05:11} COSTUME: …The Internet was so weird back then.

{08:05:14} KEY: bro youre gen alpha

{08:05:16} KEY: and seadogs gen z

{08:05:18} KEY: thats more your fault than mine

{08:05:22} COSTUME: I know. And I hate it.

{08:06:49} SEADOG: In any case, if it turns out that the Floridians have to do with our losses… I’m going to go to their side of the continent and rip them apart

{08:06:51} KEY: amen brother

{08:07:09} COSTUME: I don’t know how I’d help, but I absolutely support that effort, Seadog.

{08:07:11} KEY: i mean

{08:07:14} KEY: youre the politician here

{08:07:17} KEY: just go over there and tell them if they dont stop

{08:07:19} KEY: youll force them to like

{08:07:24} KEY: distribute government-mandated fursonas and declare “nineteen eighty fur” a national holiday

{08:07:29} [user_KEY has been kicked by user_COSTUME.]

{08:07:30} SEADOG: With that being said - fuck off, Key.

{08:07:35} SEADOG: Thank you, Costume.

{08:07:36} ABYSS: Key is in a funny mood today……….

{08:08:10} [user_KEY has joined the room.]

{08:08:14} KEY: ok im sorry

{08:08:16} KEY: i deserved that lmao

{08:08:29} COSTUME: Forgiven. Just…don’t do it again.

{08:08:43} SEADOG: Anyways, with that being said, I think what I observed at the negotiation may have shot the Floridians theory in the foot. They have no reason to abduct their own people

{08:08:56} KEY: its not 100%

{08:08:59} KEY: iirc there were rumors that bello had changed

{08:09:02} KEY: and wasnt into the war as much

{08:09:06} KEY: but the guys he worked with being so honest about it

{08:09:09} KEY: and not getting defensive or offended or anything

{08:09:11} KEY: is a pretty hard clear

{08:09:14} KEY: (rip florida men theory)

{08:11:08} COSTUME: Personally, I don’t believe these disappearances could be conducted by a government at all. If it was, we would have heard something about this already.

{08:11:24} COSTUME: The size of such a conspiracy is infeasible. Consider how small we are, and then consider how many close calls we’ve had with keeping ourselves unknown.

{08:11:39} COSTUME: Most governments are several times our size, and they must have been coordinating this for almost as long as we have existed. Surely there would be a whistleblower by now?

{08:11:51} COSTUME: The size of these kidnappers has to be smaller than a government -- and, considering three of our members were all targeted simultaneously, have the connections needed to know who we are.

{08:11:59} KEY: shit

{08:12:01} KEY: thats a good point

{08:12:10} SEADOG: Are you not including MjyvOjses in that list?

{08:12:32} COSTUME: I am not convinced MjyvOjses is a victim the same way the others are. Her case is unique, considering she briefly returned to see me.

{08:12:43} COSTUME: I’ve also heard nothing about the mystery dust being involved in her disappearance.

{08:12:46} KEY: surely with the coverage that got

{08:12:48} KEY: somebody wouldve pointed out dust

{08:13:05} SEADOG: So, we’re looking for a small group with connections to us, probably through MjyvOjses. I’m not sure if there’s anybody who fits that description

{08:13:19} COSTUME: Well…I bring this all up because I have already found a group that might fit the bill.

{08:13:20} ABYSS: Nice! :D I can fact-check anything you want if you need it, Costume…….

{08:13:34} COSTUME: Thanks, Abyss. The group I was looking into is Suuiyz Laboratories. All of this had somewhat reminded me of its CEO.

{08:13:46} SEADOG: What’s so strange about him? I thought he was still around

{08:13:59} COSTUME: He is, but not in the way he used to. A decade ago, he was the life of the party. Nowadays, he barely ever shows his face to the cameras.

{08:14:00} ABYSS: Collecting information related to this topic. Estimated completion time: three hours……………….

{08:14:05} ABYSS: Done! :D

{08:14:06} ABYSS: This is backed up by the news networks!!!!!!! Here are some editorials about how the CEO’s change in personality lowered public opinion of him and his company:

{08:14:07} [User_ABYSS posted a message with a hyperlink. Messages with hyperlinks are automatically deleted after five minutes.]

{08:14:18} COSTUME: I always forget how fast you work, Abyss. The resources are appreciated.

{08:14:25} SEADOG: Five major news networks commented on this? Across the political spectrum, too

{08:14:39} SEADOG: Looks like a lot of Xprjx fans caught on to it.

{08:20:27} COSTUME: Huh, going through these… I didn’t know that even his employees became distant and private as well. That is useful information.

{08:20:51} COSTUME: However, those aren’t the reason I bring his company up. I was trying to find any connection Suuiyz Labs might have with MjyvOjses, and I found this.

{08:20:56} [User_COSTUME posted a video file. Messages with videos are automatically deleted after five minutes.]

{08:20:58} [Video transcript from given timestamp (8:36 - 8:58):]

{08:20:59} [[interviewer]: So you’re in favor of Mrs. [REDACTED], then?]

{08:20:04} [[XPRJX]: Well, here’s the thing, [interviewer]. Something I think is important, and something important to [SUUIYZ] Laboratories, is people who give their best efforts to make the world a better place. We don’t have a lot of that these days, because things have already taken a turn for the worse, right? And a rising way of thinking here is that there’s nothing left to be done. But [REDACTED] tries. She tries hard. She gets a lot of other people to try.]

{08:20:06} [[interviewer]: Does she get you to try?]

{08:20:11} [[XPRJX]: She does! [REDACTED] really inspires me. I’ve had doubts about my work in the past — whether the ways I’m trying to help the world is really going to amount to anything. But, when I see her out there, fighting in one of the toughest places to fight, I think…maybe us people aren’t so hopeless, after all.]

{08:20:13} [[interviewer]: It sounds like her message really resonates with you.]

{08:20:16} [[XPRJX]: Yes. If you believe she’s weak, cruel, a do-nothing… That’s okay. Everybody has the right to their opinion. But I think she’s pretty great.]

{08:21:01} SEADOG: Wow. That’s a big endorsement

{08:21:22} COSTUME: I don’t have any evidence that the two of them ever interacted, but I can’t help but wonder if Xprjx’s departure from the public eye could have something to do with MjyvOjses.

{08:21:48} COSTUME: Especially because of another detail I noticed. Apparently, Xprjx started becoming more reserved around the later half of 2054 — right around when MjyvOjses visited us for the last time.

{08:21:50} ABYSS: Editorial dates: 11/24/54. 12/16/54. 2/9/55. 4/12/55. 5/2/55.

{08:21:51} ABYSS: Accounting for the time it would take people to notice the change……. That would line up with the date of Meeting R-0001-09, 7/4/54.

{08:22:09} SEADOG: I guess there’s a connection there. But why would Suuiyz Labs want to do any of this?

{08:22:17} SEADOG: Aren’t they just a tech company? They have no reason to abduct people

{08:22:44} COSTUME: That is…an unfortunate hole in my theory, yes. Although they are a believable candidate for a connection to the disappearances, any kind of motive I could provide for their involvement seems flimsy.

{08:23:06} COSTUME: Although I will note that one of the departments in Suuiyz Labs involves some…unconventional research. If they were to succeed, producing a dust nobody has ever seen before doesn’t feel like an impossibility.

{08:24:31} KEY: ok im back

{08:24:32} KEY: read up on this

{08:24:36} KEY: you mean the dept based on that cjymsk guy?

{08:24:45} COSTUME: Yes, that one. Mr. Cjymsk’s.

{08:24:47} KEY: yeah

{08:24:49} KEY: his work was kinda wack

{08:24:53} KEY: crazy xprjx kept going with that

{08:26:31} SEADOG: Just looked him up to refresh. Considering how much of a crackpot he was, it’s impressive Xprjx is as successful as he is

{08:26:36} KEY: dont really have much to say abt all that

{08:26:38} KEY: but i did find some crazy shit

{08:26:41} KEY: so after you pointed out how nobody talked about dust with mjyvojses

{08:26:43} KEY: i looked into the investigation

{08:26:46} KEY: to see if i could find out who was involved

{08:26:48} KEY: if anybody would know about dust

{08:26:49} KEY: itd be them

{08:26:49} KEY: right?

{08:27:04} COSTUME: That makes sense. I might be able to get into contact with them.

{08:27:08} KEY: ok but heres whats fucked up

{08:27:19} KEY: apparently the guy leading it was pdyikx viixupy

{08:27:21} KEY: hiring and managing people and shit

{08:27:24} KEY: even gave up the general title

{08:27:25} KEY: to focus on it

{08:27:37} SEADOG: Him? From what I know, that makes sense

{08:27:40} KEY: and guess who the FUCK

{08:27:42} KEY: left his position

{08:27:44} KEY: and vanished off of the face of the earth

{08:27:47} KEY: three years after starting that hunt?

{08:27:49} ABYSS: None of his socials have updated in seven years, after he left politics………….. :(

{08:27:50} [User_ABYSS posted a message with a hyperlink. Messages with hyperlinks are automatically deleted after five minutes.]

{08:28:06} SEADOG: And so the rabbit hole gets deeper.

{08:31:18} COSTUME: Hmm. Across all of us, it seems like we have a lot of leads, but no idea how any of this connects together.

{08:31:33} COSTUME: I am going to make an executive proposal: we need to put our heads together in a way that our logs do not allow us to.

{08:31:41} SEADOG: Are we moving to a voice chat?

{08:32:07} COSTUME: We could, but I think the subject is too significant to risk being recorded by a company. I believe we should all meet together for some time and work as a unit to pursue answers.

{08:32:09} ABYSS: You should come meet us in Nevada Costume!!!!!!!!!! Key and I can keep a seat cozy for you and Seadog ;D

{08:32:32} COSTUME: That’s what I was thinking. I will head out as soon as I safely can. Luckily, I can afford to put less stake in my position to focus on this.

{08:32:34} KEY: shit

{08:32:36} KEY: i better get the house ready then

{08:32:47} SEADOG: I can come, but I might be late. Still need to make sure this negotiation is wrapped up before I leave

{08:33:03} COSTUME: You should stay where you are until that is finished, Seadog. We need to stay timely, but not rush this process. Perfectly solving this is going to take time.

{08:33:05} KEY: yeah

{08:33:06} KEY: we can hella do this though

{08:33:07} KEY: im sure of it

{08:33:14} COSTUME: Your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated, Key.

{08:34:55} COSTUME: See you in about two days.

{08:35:02} [user_COSTUME has left the room.]

{08:35:33} SEADOG: Best of luck to you all. Next time you see me, it’ll be in-person

{08:35:37} [user_SEADOG has left the room.]

{08:35:40} ABYSS: Ready to bust some conspiracies? >:)

{08:35:42} KEY: yeah lol

{08:35:44} [user_KEY has left the room.]

{08:35:45} [user_ABYSS has left the room.]

{08:35:45} [Archiving room_R-0001-13…]

{08:35:49} [Archival complete. room_R-0001-13 is now closed.]

Chapter 31: Peril in General

Notes:

And we're back! It's only been... *checks calendar* seven months since I've written a brand new chapter instead of updating and porting existing ones. Ten, ignoring Interlude I. Yeesh, and I (Luker) promised people on FFN we'd start this arc by October?

Genuinely, I'm really sorry for the lengthy delay. I thought the timeline was reasonable, but that fall semester of college...holy shit, I was so overbooked. I could barely even do anything that I enjoyed, much less work on the fic. My co-writers and friends in the fandom can corroborate that it was not a good time for me. That was the main reason for the months' delay on revising Book I and starting Book II.

Anyway, we're pretty much done with those revisions! There's a chapter or two that I might be willing to come back to down the line, but for the most part, I'm entirely satisfied with the arc as it is now. Here are the main highlights:
* We've trimmed about 15,000 words off the fic. Don't worry, not much of value was lost. It mainly came from tightening the prose in the beginning. No chapter breaks 8k words now, and only two break 7k.
* The first seven chapters are a lot more deliberate in storytelling. We focused on making each character's goals more readable.
* The foreshadowing for the Walker family's twist is better built up over the whole arc.
* We spruced up a few locations that were kind of dry originally. Minichino's house and Fascamile Town Hall were tweaked, while the Waregle was entirely redesigned to serve as a better foundation for All Fun and Games. (It was easily the most changed chapter of them all, being almost more of a 100% rewrite than a revision.)

Fortunately, we've had a lot of time to stew on the second Book while on hiatus. Book I was a complicated story arc to plot from start to end, which is why it took so many rewrites. I don't have those concerns with Book II — I know that we're far better at this than when we started Book I. My goal is still to try and do the whole thing in a year. Who knows if I'll reach it, but I might as well try!

Without further adieu, let's get into it! Enjoy.

—LukerUpgradez, DommyMcDoodle, and PaperCutz

Book II: Second Chances

---

Chapter 25: Peril in General

Mathew was drowning.

When he came to, that was the first thing he realized. Panicked, he pulled himself up, making a splash as the front end of his snout surfaced through the knee-deep water. A cold darkness awaited him — the rippling pool of water expanded into the inky black horizon in every direction, unnervingly still save the ripples he made himself.

Half-minded, Mathew brushed his hand against his wounds. A scrape on his back. A scorch mark on his chest. A gash on his muzzle just below his mask. Great… As if the ache of his soles and bags in his eyes needed the company.

He kicked against the water with all of the force he could muster. How else was he supposed to take out his anger? Mark had knocked all of the wind out of him on his own.

Mark…

Mathew kicked again, and again, and again, each more pitiful than the last. David, Emily, Dit, and that mysterious light had promised him the world — but all they’d done was steal it away from him. The things he had tried to do to Meowth before were nothing compared to what he pictured now.

Despair. Anger. Hate. That’s all he felt now. That’s all he wanted to feel.

…

Mathew stopped kicking. Not because he was bored of it, but because the water’s shade had changed. He could see his warbled reflection in front of him muddy until it vanished.

The pool had turned deep red…and he could feel it move.

His eyes widened with panic. An image of Joey pleading to him flashed through his mind, and suddenly guilt overcame him too. No! He didn’t want Joey to see him like this anymore!

But they took my son.

Wind flowed from behind him. That voice — his own voice — that was the direction it came from.

Mathew turned—

---

“Hey!”

Mathew lurched awake, and the real world came back to him. Trickling rain grazed his legs, dribbling down the leaves of the tree above. His goggle straps hung tightly around his mask above his eyes, failing to protect the water seeping into the holes of his mark. A fur-soaked figure hovered above him, panic on his face.

Just the person he wanted to wake up to.

“Get off me,” Mathew ordered, flinging himself to his feet with newfound briskness. Meowth thankfully got out of his way. His bone club was right next to him, so he was quick to arm himself. “Where the hell is he?!” he exclaimed as he looked around.

“Where is who?”

“Jermy dragged me away from that fight! I…” The tension in his voice died off. Tall, dark stalks of bark shot up, breaking out into branches high above their heads. Leaves and sticks filled the ground, layering over the grass. That was all there was to see — not a soul else. “What happened?”

Meowth hugged the side of the tree as if to imitate Minichino’s passion. “Don’t you remember what Politoed said? It’s past midnight. The dungeon shifted.”

What Politoed—? Oh. Now he remembered. They were supposed to rope themselves together, because otherwise, the dungeon would warp them all to random places. But then OCEAN showed up, and…

Oh God. They’d been splintered. OCEAN could be picking all his friends off right now.

He turned from the tree and started running.

“Wait. Hang on!” Meowth called.

“For what?!” Mathew cried behind him. “They could be dead already! I’m not hesitating twice!”

“I want to look for them as much as you do, but—!”

It was a subtle sound, but high above them came a noise that promptly silenced the cat. A distant wingbeat echoed in the distance. Then came another, this time even closer to where they were.

Meowth curled his claws urgently, gesturing for him to come back. “That’s why,” he whispered.

Mathew’s heartbeat quickened. Damnit. Of course they would hunt them from above…

He hopscotched back towards the cat, careful to set each foot down wherever the fallen leaves were light. Meowth guided him towards a bush resting next to the tree. The two stretched and curved and squeezed, narrowly fitting themselves between the bark and the leaves with little more than a rustle.

Flap. Flap. Flap. Each beat was a little closer. He bit down on his teeth as rain pattered against his mask. Was that Dit? David? The prehistoric bird from before?

…Demurke?

He kept his eyes on the ground as the wingbeats passed overhead. He didn’t want to know.

Minutes went by in silence. Mathew’s passion to make himself known fizzled. That bird could return at any moment — or worse, a more silent hunter. He couldn’t fight OCEAN alone.

As the cubone held still, holding his breath, the weather surrounding them began to change. The rain over their heads started to fade away. Pouring became streaming, streaming became drizzling, and drizzling became nothing more than the occasional droplet sliding off a leaf above.

It felt like a sign. The storm was passing.

Mathew stumbled out of the bush, taking a seat against the tree. “Jesus.”

Meowth stood over him, studying his body. “It’s a good thing you didn’t leave.” He got down on one knee, staring at the scorching on his stomach. “That wound is serious. Were you fighting the person who burned Breloom?”

He put his arms over his chest, leaning away from him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” What gave Meowth the right to know?

The cat stood there, silent for a moment. Then, he leaned, grabbed something from the bush, and dropped it next to him. “I managed to keep this in the scuffle. There should be oran and rawst berries in there to treat your injuries with.”

Mathew sighed in relief. “The Dwelling Bag…” They were extremely lucky they hadn’t lost it in the fight — all of their belongings resided in this one bag now. He reached in and pulled out a few of both kinds of berries. He hadn’t realized just how parched he was until the juices of those berries touched his throat.

The berries healed him, but they did not rejuvenate. He was still so tired. Why couldn’t they have taken even a ten-minute break on the way here?

As Mathew wiped off the juice left on his muzzle, he noticed that Meowth had walked even farther away from him. It occurred to him that usually Meowth was the one handing out berries to feed the injured, rather than tossing him the bag to make him do it himself.

“Hey, you’re the medic here, right? I thought you’d want to do the honors and feed me these.”

Meowth gave him a simple side-eye. “You said it yourself when I woke you up. It’s better if I don’t touch you.”

Mathew sat there in silence, waiting for the berries to kick in. Half of him wanted to say it was okay for him to do his job. Half of him wanted to snark that he was right. Neither side won today.

It’d be a few minutes more before Mathew would stand up and walk. There was no sense of urgency when they lacked a direction to go. The occasional echo rang through the trees, never tangible enough to identify the source. They marched in an arbitrary direction, hoping it brought them closer to their scattered friends.

The thunderstorm had begun rolling away with hardly a final crash — the only light to guide them now was the pale moonlight puncturing the bed of clouds. Tall conifer trees with sharp branches cast deep shadows over the two. The only one equipped to stare into the shade was Meowth. The cat was strikingly silent, doing little more than cradle the bag and make sure Mathew was alive behind him. If Mathew didn’t keep his eyes on him, his gray colors would bleed into the night.

“We’re getting nowhere fast.” It was the obvious, but Mathew preferred saying it over nothing at all.

Meowth peered behind him as he moved. “I noticed. If you have any better ideas, I’m listening.”

Bylaide Forest seemed like a strikingly uninteresting mystery dungeon — all Mathew could see was grass, brush, dead leaves, and bark. What could they do with so little? “If Joey was here, he could climb one of these and get us some information from above.” Unfortunately, he wasn’t a crocodile, so he couldn’t climb. Cats, though… “Can you?”

Meowth walked toward one of the trees. He rested a paw on it, staring upward at the needle bearing cones on its branches. “Even if I did go up there, we’d just draw attention from any of their fliers.”

“…But you can.”

Meowth shut his eyes. “My father taught me. It was a long time ago — I was five, maybe.” He turned away. “Whenever I got brave enough to go higher than before, we’d celebrating by eating a meal at Silvalla’s.”

So that’s where the hesitancy came from. Mathew sighed. They didn’t really have time for this. “Listen, I get having some nostalgia, but maybe you should save it to share with your dad after—”

“I might not have him anymore!” In a burst of frustration, he whirled back towards Mathew, claws chipping off wood. “He held off Emily to protect Minichino and…me.” He tried to look the cubone in the eyes.

Mathew turned his head down, refusing to look back. He recognized that Meowth was seeking sympathy in a desperate situation. God, what he wouldn’t give for some too. But in the midst of this living nightmare, his well of compassion was dry. How could Mathew muster anything after what had happened before? How could either of them?

In those seconds of silence, Meowth lowered his arm. “Never mind,” he said softly.

Mathew snapped back to attention. As much as he hated it, he should at least keep him focused on the task at hand. “Hang on, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“Don’t you hear that?” This time he was whispering again. Only now could Mathew see Meowth’s ear twitch.

Begrudgingly, Mathew closed his lips tightly, leaving them in silence. Wind rushed through the trees, kicking up leaves that dotted the ground below. There were more of those echoes — screaming voices he couldn’t recognize.

But underneath all that, was that…whispering he heard?

He closed his eyes to focus. It was hard to make anything out when it felt like the sounds kept changing directions, whirling around him. But he could hear it now.

A lone, feminine voice, whispering unintelligible words.

He had heard it before. The voice from the dark was here.

Without saying a word, Mathew broke out into a sprint. He weaved between trees, stumbled over branches, and leapt down hills at breakneck pace. Between heavy panting, conflicted thoughts pulsed through his mind. This was the second time this voice had emerged in the face of a crisis. What did she want with him?! Why did she only speak after the damage was done? Last time, her voice had come from everywhere at once. How could he make out a direction now?

Mathew wanted answers. At the same time, he remembered telling her to stay out of his head. So, he kept running in the direction of her whispers. He’d get both, if he could help it.

His heart pumped. His feet pounded. His head throbbed. The whispers got louder. Mathew swallowed the pain until he couldn’t, collapsing into the dirt and leaves. Only then, could he finally make out words.

“…come here.”

Just like that, the voice vanished. She’d beckoned him, only to leave him here with nothing. He wanted to yell in anger and have a fit on the ground.

Resisting the urge, Mathew pulled himself back up. He swiped at his skull mask. The side that slammed into the dirt was wet with a new layer of mud. Some droplets fell in front of his eye.

Could this get any worse?

That was when he heard something else.

“Hup! Two, three, four… Hup! Two, three, four…”

It was a chorus of young voices, punctuated by the sound of crushed leaves. Meowth was already crouched behind a bush, studying them as they passed by. Mathew silently joined him.

A trio of chipmunk-like pokémon marched together in a line, stomping forward with each word. Their tails swished in alternation, too, to sync them even more closely. Left, right. Left, right.

They were carrying a splayed-out figure over their heads. The front one held the back of his head, eyes shut, ears dangling. The middle one gripped his stomach, around the top brown stripe. The back one held his rear, keeping the bolt-shaped tail from smacking his face.

“She led us straight to Jermy…” Mathew muttered.

“She?” Meowth peered at him for a second, but seemed to think better of asking. “Are those patrats OCEAN soldiers?”

Mathew pondered this as he watched them get farther away. They were acting in a militaristic way, but OCEAN never seemed like the type to make their members march like this. Plus, these three sounded even younger than the soldiers they had fought a few minutes ago. They seemed more like children playing pretend than anything. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

“Neither am I,” Meowth said. “Maybe they’re dungeon pokémon.”

It hadn’t even been a possibility in his mind until he said it — but now it was such an obvious answer that even another dungeon pokémon could figure it out. “Yeah, that’s probably it.” The line was now much farther ahead of them. Mathew took the opportunity to give chase, shimmying from one bush to the next. The ache in his soles was even worse now — sprinting towards the voice had done him no favors. “Normally I’d say we fight them off, but we’re outnumbered and probably outmatched in this state,” he whispered to Meowth as he followed behind him. “Maybe they’ll give us a better opportunity…”

The hesitancy may have been a mistake.

Mathew could only describe what they were approaching as a hastily-assembled fort. Mounds of dirt formed the walls to a shabby perimeter only a few feet taller than them. The walls seemed flattened and a little melted from all the rain. Through the entrance, he could make out more walls outlining rooms and hallways. The trio of patrats marched in, Jermy in tow.

This must be their base, assembled together with all the dirt they could find. None of the other dungeon pokémon were nearly this organized. It was both impressive and concerning. What did this say about their chances against them?

“Damn, we need to see what’s going on in there.” It’d probably be unwise to simply go inside. Mathew had no idea if there were any other dungeon pokémon in there that could potentially spot them. “Any ideas?”

Meowth seemed somewhat confused. “I’m surprised you’re asking me for any.”

Mathew shook his head in annoyance, turning away from him. Mathew didn’t like him on an average day, but tonight, Meowth was acting particularly unhelpful. Was there any benefit to even having a second body around?

Well, now that he thought about it, those walls were taller than each of them. Was it taller than both of them?

It didn’t take long to get in position. Meowth leaned over in front of the wall, letting Mathew climb on his back and shoulders. He made for a good step-stool. The cubone clawed against the top of the wall, prying off dirt that flaked over his already dirtied mask. Eventually, he got his grip, and managed to pull himself up on top of the wall.

The interior of the fort was a maze. More walls lined the interior, forming slim hallways that sometimes opened up into larger rooms. Every wall was straight and every corner was sharp, making everything look blocky. There were two trees inside the maze — one of them stood beside a corner, shading the fort, while another entirely blocked off a hallway, sealing off half the maze.

What parts of this were caused by the dungeon shift? Mathew wondered. It seemed like a fully intact, contiguous structure, but there was no way they intended for that tree to block a path. If they stored any food in here, would it come with the fort when the shift happens? This seemed like such a strange system of rules. He’d have to ask Politoed about it later.

For the moment, he was focused on duckwalking his way along the wall, drawing as little attention to himself as he could. His tan body resembled soil enough on its own, but the fact that he was covered in mud and dirt helped his camouflage. It was just a matter of never giving the patrats a reason to look up.

They marched down hallways, constantly keeping up that militaristic chant. “Hup! Two, three, four…”

Even now, Jermy didn’t open his eyes. Mathew recalled how tired he was even before they set out from the beach. Just how sleep-deprived was he?

Their destination was the tree in the corner. On closer inspection, it was much younger than the other tree, only a few feet tall and barely featuring enough branches to shade the one standing beneath it from the dim moonlight. Another dungeon pokémon?

The three patrats threw Jermy’s body on the ground and faced the figure. “General Watchog, sir!” they shouted in unison, standing at attention.

“Grrgh, you maggots…!” The figure turned away from the tree and towards the trio with an angry expression. He was a tall, reddish-brown chipmunk with a deeper voice. Yellow strips ran along his belly and tail, reminding Mathew of a human’s safety vest. “You’re late. I expected your post-shift relocation of the base to be two minutes faster!” He pointed at their short arms. “And you didn’t even find any food!”

“Sorry for the delay, sir!” One of the squeaky-voiced partrats said.

“We found each other after the shift on-pace, but were delayed when we found this unfamiliar face!” another explained, gesturing to Jermy.

“We thought he would be of use, General Watchog, sir!” the third said.

Mathew grimaced. These dungeon pokémon really were playing pretend-soldier. After everything he’d been through so far, it was hard to watch. They could really stand to be quieter, too — those OCEAN scouts were probably still out there. Who had even taught these four all this?

It didn’t matter, he concluded. All that Mathew cared about was how much these four were irritating him.

‘General’ Watchog crossed his arms, eyeing the pikachu. “That’s a poor excuse and you lot know it! Which one of you was responsible for letting this jagged-tail figure delay you?”

Without skipping a beat, the middle one stepped forward. “That would be me, sir!”

“Patrat!” Mathew chose not to question how Watchog distinguished between three nameless patrats. “Your principles are in the right place, but the slowness is unacceptable! Will the enemy give you maggots time to slow down on the battlefield?!”

“No, sir! But I—”

“Don’t ‘I’ me, soldier! You know that the punishment for backtalk is to look me in the ‘I’s!”

The patrat retreated a little. “I’m sorry, sir. I will be faster next time.”

Why did Mathew feel his puncles tingling? There was some kind of threat hidden in that line that was enough to make the patrat shrink. What had he just threatened him with…?

Watchog focused his attention on the other two. “Patrat! Bring the jagged-tail one here and wake him up!”

“Yes, sir!” they both answered. One of them grabbed the pikachu by the arms, propping them up into a standing position. Then, the other bit down on his shoulder.

Jermy’s eyes shot open. “Woah, woah, hey!” A tiny bolt shot from his red cheek at the biting patrat, making him lurch back and release his shoulder. “What the heck is going…on…?” Despite an initial fierceness, the pikachu slouched in the patrat’s grip, eyes half-lidded.

He had looked into Watchog’s eyes.

His eyes…his gross, red and yellow eyes…

They glowed.

“My men found you trespassing in our dungeon. What kind of maggot are you?!” he asked angrily.

“Uhhh, a…preeeetty big one…” Jermy slurred through the words, half-present.

Mathew watched them, wide-eyed. He uncurled himself, standing tall atop the wall.

Watchog seemed amused by the answer, his stern expression breaking into a tiny grin. “Hah! Well you’ve come to the right place. I’m training this lot of maggots to be bigger and stronger than any bug. You wanna be a big and strong soldier?”

Jermy shakily nodded, his ears wobbling with each movement of the head. “Ssssure! It’d be a baaall to…get as stroooong as her…”

Mathew pulled the goggles over his eyes.

“Good! Welcome to the crew then! First order of business: you four maggots get out there and find some f—!”

Watchog couldn’t even finish the words before the bone club met his face. He stumbled away from Jermy, yelping in pain.

Mathew grit his teeth as he caught the whirling club. “Put spirals in my friend’s eyes and I’ll put X’s in yours!” he snapped.

The patrats turned to him in panic. “Intruder alert! Intruder alert!” they called, clamoring towards the wall he stood atop.

“Don’t alert me, you maggots!” Watchog cried as he straightened himself up for a dramatic point. “Just get him!”

The three started clawing away at the dirt wall, digging out the sides. Dirt peeled off as the wall slid slightly beneath Mathew’s feet. He tried prodding them away, but it was hard to aim between the night and the dark goggles.

That was fine. He had a goal in mind, anyway.

Mathew leapt over the patrats’ heads and landed past them, gunning for the dazed pikachu. “Jermy!” He ran up and grabbed his shoulders. “It’s me! Snap out of this!”

Jermy looked back at him, unspeaking. The haze in his eyes didn’t fade.

“What the…?” Mathew shook his body, then bopped his head with a hand.

He just weakly giggled. “Thaaaat tickles…!”

Why was he still hypnotized? Breaking out of Meowth’s trance after he had clapped his paws and broken the connection was easy enough. What was so different about Jermy and Watchog?

His train of thought crashed when a hand gripped his club-bearing arm and pulled him up into the air. Mathew was face-to-face with the false general.

“So what do we have here? Another maggot eager to join our ranks?”

Watchog’s eyes glowed.

“NonononononononoNO!” Mathew used his free arm to grip his goggles tightly, refusing to even give him the chance to take them off. He squirmed and swung and shook wildly in Watchog’s grasp.

Watchog seemed baffled by the failure of his hypnosis, only for his expression to quickly turn dismissive. He threw Mathew away, letting him drop. “Here’s your first order, jagged-tail!” he graveled. “Attack!”

Mathew was hardly on his feet when said jagged tail, hardened into a metallic form, came swinging down on him. He barely blocked in time, steel clashing with ivory instead of his scales. He kept taking steps back, keeping Jermy from invading his space. His swings were a little slow, but so were Mathew’s guarding motions. Both of them were hardly in any state to fight.

Still, the cubone was backed up towards a wall. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” Mathew spat, trying to make him see reason. “Neither of us want this!”

“Soooorry, can’t heeeear you over the…sound ‘a my new buuuddies chittering…” Jermy reared back, tail sharpening even further — only to be interrupted by an energy coin hitting his side.

“It’s no good!” Meowth stepped out of one of the hallways, claws drawn, Dwelling Bag over his shoulder. “That watchog is a better hypnotist than me. Jermy’s gonna be stuck under his paw for a few minutes.”

Mathew marveled at the explanation. This was what a hypnotist who really tried could do? He didn’t have time to think about it. Mathew leapt away from Jermy and towards Meowth. They were just gonna have to fight to get him back.

“Come on!” Mathew ran down the hall Meowth had came from, beckoning him to follow. With an annoyed cry, the crowd gave chase, Jermy in the lead, the patrats in the middle, and Watchog in the back. Mathew and Meowth couldn’t handle a five-on-two, but maybe these narrow halls could make it a little harder on the pretend soldiers?

It’d might work, if not for Jermy. Mathew remembered how even his tackle was enough to shatter a barbaracle’s rock. Mathew wasn’t even sure if he could last long against Jermy if he was at full strength, much less now.

They turned through sharp bends, nearly slipping from the wet dirt that was everywhere they went. Through his pounding head, Mathew tried to think through a plan. “We need to…separate Jermy from them…! He’s their powerhouse!” he exclaimed between pants. He recalled that Breloom had stocked the Dwelling Bag with more items from the Service Guild before they left Kalmwa’er. “Is there…anything in that…bag we can use?”

Meowth rummaged through the Dwelling Bag as he moved, faltering a little from splitting his attention. He pried out a wand Mathew hadn’t seen before. It was a cyan shade, like the whirlwind wand, but the end was curved into a hook, and there were dark blue strips that reminded him of a candy cane. “This is a warp wand. It’s basically a mini-dungeon shift for whoever you use it on. It only works once.” Without even asking, he put it into Mathew’s free hand. “It might send one of them away. Don’t—”

Mathew didn’t need to hear another word. He immediately stopped, pivoted, and swung it straight at Jermy. A glowing ball of energy formed in the hook of the wand and shot forward straight toward the pikachu. He skidded to a stop, his woozy expression breaking with a bit of panic—

“Get down, jagged-tail!” One of the patrats shoved in front of Jermy, lunging at the energy ball. When it collided with him, his body flashed white and dissolved, leaving no trace of him behind.

“…waste it.” Meowth sighed.

Mathew grit his teeth as the wand began to crumble in his arms. Cyan and blue gave way to a host of colors as the wand flaked off into strange dust. Even with his shaded goggles on, Mathew could see the whole color spectrum in each bright speck that fell to the ground or coated his dirty hand. “Damnit!”

“Patrat!” Watchog cried. His head towered over the three remaining pokémon, completely exposed.

Sparks flew from Jermy, surging down the hallway. Mathew rushed to block them with his body — he could take them with hardly a scratch, thanks to his body’s typing, but Meowth couldn’t. He looked pleadingly back at Meowth. What else did they have?

As Jermy and the dungeon pokémon encroached, Meowth looked intently at Watchog. “A suggestion from one person’s hypnosis could get overwritten by a better hypnotist. Maybe…” For just a moment, there was a touch of radiance in his eyes — but then he slammed them shut, gritting his teeth. “I can’t.”

Nothing. They had nothing, then.

All Mathew had left in his arsenal was the aim to kill. He flipped his club around, trying to jab at the dungeon pokémon with the sharp end. Jermy took a few of the pokes, seeming unbothered, before answering with another swing of his iron-clad tail.

Mathew didn’t even have the stamina to block. He was knocked away, back scraping the sodden dirt. Seconds later, he heard Meowth’s claws slash through air, only to be quickly followed by the cat joining him in the ground.

They were too exhausted. They were too weak. They were too dependent. They were too fractured. This fight was Watchog’s, and it wasn’t even close.

Watchog guffawed, seeing his clear advantage. Mathew weakly dragged his head forward to see him rear back. “Hah! Look at you, crushing these less-than-maggots!” He thrusted a hand forward. “Now! New guy! Put your full power into ending these fools! Make yourself into a real soldier and…”

Watchog’s gross eyes shrunk in panic, along with the eyes of the other two patrats. Before he had even finished his command, Jermy started surging with energy. The air tensed and pulsed in tandem with the green glow in his arms.

Mathew was stunned. A grass type—?

The pikachu, still half-grinning, thrust one arm towards Mathew and Meowth…and another at Watchog and the patrats. “Okay.”

Green shockwaves were the last thing that filled Mathew’s vision.

Chapter 33

Chapter 26: Another’s Power

Everything was so distant. Joey’s vision swirled with shapes, eyes strained from the force of a flash he barely remembered.

More of the world faded in. The scorching pain from the marks all over his body. The hat lightly grazing the space over his eyes. A rhythmic lurch, lurch, lurch, in time with the sound of hooves smacking the wet dirt below. The wind whipping past him. The pitter-patter of weak rain dripping against his back. The soft, tickling feeling of long hair. A faint trace of smoke.

Joey groaned. He tried to find flat ground to push off of, only to realize there was none. His body was splayed on top of a round, arced body. Joey couldn’t remember if he had gone horse-riding as a human, but he suddenly got the impression that this was what it felt like.

“Hey, he’s waking up!” his ride called out to somebody else. Then, he turned his head to get a look at the waking Joey. It was the colt from before — the one in the hologram Minichino made with that Gate. “You’re Joey, right?”

“Uh… Yeah…?”

As he scrambled into a more befitting riding position, he tried to recall what he was doing a moment ago. They were running from OCEAN, and then they got surrounded… Mark was there… Then there was that yellow cat who pounced him. He ran, and then—

Joey snapped into attention on Keldeo’s back. Rows of trees were passing by them. They were still in Bylaide Forest. “Shoot! We got splintered worse than a thumb against wood!” he cried.

“Yeah, we’re kind of working on that right now!” a new, gruff voice told him. On his right, somebody else was matching Keldeo’s speed — that gray-and-brown bovine, Terrakion. “So far, you two are the only ones we’ve found!”

He craned his neck upwards towards the minccino riding on top of it. Minichino clung to her bycocket hat with one hand and gripped one of the spikes on Terrakion’s head with the other. “Dude, you’re still with us! Cool!” she proclaimed, grinning. “We were kinda worried. You look super beat up.”

Joey winced, reminded of the singes that cat had left on him. “It’s crazy you ain’t super beat up!”

Keldeo broke their reunion apart. “We were chasing after the source of those big fiery explosions when we found you two!” he told Joey. “Cobalion and Virizion went ahead while we got you on our backs.”

“We’re closing in on them right now,” Terrakion added. “You two, get ready to hop off!”

Past Keldeo’s hair, Joey could see traces of the fight ahead. Lines were carved through the dirt. There were holes of empty spaces where piled-up, dead leaves were supposed to be. A whole line of trees had their bark charred black.

He gulped. The searing heat of that fireball was still fresh on Joey’s mind. Surely that wasn’t—

Keldeo skidded to a stop, planting his front hooves to stop his momentum. Joey yelped, flung forward off of his back. As he scrambled to his feet, he realized the fight was just ahead of them.

To his left, a blue blade glowed in the night — to his right, a green one. Joey had seen only their shine in the fight earlier. Now he could see that they extended from the faces of Cobalion and Virizion.

Cobalion’s hooves dug into the ground as he stood tall. With only a flick of the head, he blocked two sharp weapons from striking his neck. One was a long, arching edged piece of metal that reminded Joey of the head of an axe. The other was the dark blue horn on the head of one of the attackers, whose species reminded Joey of a mountain goat. Based on her erratic cursing as she barely blocked Cobalion’s countering slashes, this was that woman from earlier, Selena.

The axe floated away from the pair towards the yellow cat. She seemed more passionate when Joey fought her earlier, but even from this distance, the nervousness was plastered on her face, punctuated by wide eyes. Even when Selena was slashed and knocked to her side, she hesitated to step in.

Only now could Joey notice a faint pink glow on the base of the axe. Was that weapon imbued with the same kind of stone they’d been looking for?

Virizion, meanwhile, was anything but still. Her frenetic foot-work was hard to trace as she moved, as if she were in a fluid dance. She marched, strutted, and leapt around, testing every angle of her opponent — the otter with the ice sword, Zack. Zack tried to clash with her energy blade and cut down to her head, but the horns at her sides guarded her body like a sword’s hilt. Joey wondered how she could fight so well with her eyes always directed towards the ground.

Some of the dead leaves Virizion stepped over got flung into the air. Instead of falling, they hovered in place, edges glowing a strange shade. Motioning with her hoof, Virizion sent them flying towards Zack. The weasel guarded against a few of them with his sword and a Water Gun, but most hit their mark, giving him little cuts in the space between big ones.

Only one thing was enough to displace Cobalion and keep Zack from falling at Virizion’s hands. A surging fireball unfurled through the forest, lined up to engulf both Swords of Justice. Virizion narrowly stumbled out of the way, wide-eyed and a little confused. Cobalion grit his teeth, clearing the distance out of its range with a single jump.

Cobalion and Virizion weren’t intimidated by anyone other than Mark. As soon as the other three were down, he’d be the prime target. That made Joey nervous. Did the Swords of Justice fight to the death?

Terrakion put himself in front of Joey, then ordered him and Minichino to find something to hide behind. The fireball wasn’t aimed their way, but it set the dead leaves aflame and started spreading fast. “You two stay back here where it’s safe!” he said. “Leave the fighting to us!”

“Go kick their butts!” Minichino exclaimed as the two settled themselves behind a bush and a tree.

“Please don’t beat them up too much…” Joey added.

Keldeo passed them a reassuring smile. “Hey, we weren’t planning on it.” That smile turned into a smirk as he squatted down. “We’re just here to put out their flames!” He sprung into the air.

Keldeo’s airtime revealed empty holes in the center of his hooves. Jet streams of water burst from them, propelling the colt forward and skyward. He balanced on air as he moved over the fire. The colt could only keep it up for a few seconds before the water dried up, but it was more than enough to douse the flames before they got out of hand.

This attracted the OCEAN soldiers’ attention. Mark, still standing at a distance, looked towards Keldeo in a panic. “You’re already back?!”

“Bad guys can’t get away from us for too long!” Keldeo exclaimed as he landed.

The cat near Cobalion seemed even less confident now. “Zack, I think we’re in trouble…!” she cried.

“Yeah, no shit!” Selena exclaimed. “We can barely fight off one of them, much less four!”

“Mark!” Zack pulled away from Virizion and peered at the reptile behind him. “Can you get us out of here?!”

The black and blue reptile planted his feet. “I’ll try!” Mark’s jaw hinged open far enough that even Joey could see the strain. At the back of his mouth, a tiny sun grew and grew, turning redder and hotter as Mark heaved in air through his nostrils.

Cobalion and Virizion didn’t back down at the reptile’s challenge, but they didn’t move forward, either. The two grit their teeth as the three soldiers retreated behind Mark, closely gathering behind him.

“That’s even larger than the last one,” Virizion remarked, turning her head away to avoid looking straight at the shimmering flame. “I don’t think either of us can dodge it if he shoots point-blank.”

Cobalion squinted his eyes, refusing to look away. “I noticed.”

Joey gasped in panic. He thought the Legendary Court was supposed to be super strong if they controlled Solceus… How could Mark be scaring them off? If they didn’t act, he was gonna get away!

And if there’s anybody they should at least try to stop in this whole mess…

Joey made up his mind. He shifted a little behind the bush.

Minichino flicked from mesmerized by the fight to worried by him. “Dude, what are you—?”

The crocodile didn’t have time to explain. He sprung from the bush and sprinted through the woods. “Mark! Waaaaaait!”

Mark’s eyes flicked towards him for only a second. He kept charging, aiming for the two Swords.

Terrakion, closer to Joey than the others, grimaced as he looked his way. “Are you crazy?! This marowak’s gonna torch the place any second!”

Keldeo was the only one unfazed. “That’s fine! Any firepower he puts out, I’ll—”

It happened so fast. Joey barely had time to process it. Out of nowhere, a small white flicker filled the air. A chipmunk pokémon he’d never seen before dropped down and crashed into Keldeo. He grunted as he fell over on his side.

That was the opening Mark needed.

It took a second for Terrakion to block Joey’s view, flinging dirt and stone in front of him with his Sacred Sword to form a protective mound. But it was long enough to see the fireball billow out of Mark towards them. It was massive. Unkempt. Engulfing. It didn’t even need to touch the trees to set them alight.

Joey collapsed behind the mound. He heard Keldeo cry out in surprise, followed by the fierce gushing of his hooves. The chipmunk skittered past him, getting away from the overwhelming heat as fast as it could. The scent of burning wood overwhelmed his nostrils.

He really should’ve listened.

It’d be another minute or two before he was ready to move out from behind the shoddy cover. Joey settled on allowing the Swords to handle it first before he made another stupid move. He curled up and shut his eyes tight.

It was the graze of Minichino’s paw that got him to open them again. “Hey. You good?”

He flinched in surprise, then tilted his head. “Barely…”

She helped him up and guided him around the mound. Everything was black. The ground, the trees, the leaves…all that was in front of them was covered in soot.

Keldeo was slouched over, panting hard. Water droplets glided down the edges of his exposed hoof. Cobalion, Virizion, and Terrakion were nearby, stomping out the last flickers before they could grow any further. All of them were covered in scorch marks. Their energy blades were gone.

Mark and the others were nowhere to be found.

“Geez…” Minichino looked around, a grim expression on her face. “He totally wrecked both you guys and these woods.”

“We’re alright. That was far from the worst hit we’ve taken.” Cobalion peered into the woods, looking valiant in spite of his injuries. “I’m more concerned that they escaped.”

“Sorry, I… I tried to get it done quick, but…” Keldeo said.

“Hey, you gave it your best!” Terrakion was quick to comfort him with a pat. “It’s not your fault you got hit by a stray patrat. Seriously, where did they come from?”

“Uh, beats me…” Keldeo remarked as he slowly rose to his feet, his stance wobbling into place.

Satisfied, Terrakion turned to Joey with a more stern expression. “You’re lucky Keldeo and the rest of us were enough to keep that fire at bay! You could’ve gotten yourself extremely hurt!” he exclaimed.

Joey wanted to pull his cowboy hat right over his head. Getting all gung-ho at the last second was almost always how he got himself into more trouble these days. He knew that, but he went anyway. “I’m sorry.” he called out. “I just… I didn’t want Mark to run off.”

“That shiny marowak?” Minichino asked. “What’s your deal with him?”

Joey took off the hat and turned the interior towards her. He pointed at the note inside with his free hand — at the signatures JJ and MW. “He’s Mathew’s kid, and my friend.”

She gasped. “Mathew’s a dad?!”

Joey nodded. I guess I ain’t any good at reigning in any Walker in now, he wanted to add.

“It’s nice that you’re looking out for your friend,” Virizion commented as she approached the two, “but I’m not sure you’d stand a chance against him. That marowak has an unbelievable amount of firepower… an unnatural amount.”

Keldeo looked to Virizion, mouth agape. “Wait, you don’t mean…?”

“That kind of attack did feel familiar,” Terrakion admitted. “You three fought him for longer than me — remind you of anyone in particular?”

Cobalion nodded. “Moltres.”

“If that’s Moltres, then this storm…” Virizion turned her head up towards the sky. The rain clouds that had painted their escape had begun parting, letting the moonlight in. “His is here too. Maybe all four of them.”

Moltres? Wasn’t that one of those birds who had a statue in the church? “What’s Mark got to do with him?” Joey asked.

“Right, you’re a human. You wouldn’t know.” She paused, seeming to think on how to phrase it. “To put it best, there’s a chance that your marowak friend currently holds the power of a Legendary Pokémon.”

“Hah?! How the heck could he—?”

Joey couldn’t finish the sentence. He reached for the sides of his head as loud noises echoed through the forest. The creaks and crashes of felled trees drowned all of them out. The wind gently whipped him — the after-effects of a lasting wave of energy. Joey couldn’t picture just how strong the force was to have affected him from so far away.

Minichino and the Swords winced at the sound, too. “Look!” the minichino called. “It’s coming from that way!”

Soaring just above the branches were waves of bright green energy. The curved forces rose into the sky before fading into flickers in the night, like a firework that never stopped.

Keldeo’s mouth hung agape as he stared. “No way… That’s totally Seed Flare, right?!”

“That makes five.” Cobalion looked to his fellow Swords. “Take those two and move!”

Joey’s head whipped about in his confusion. “Seed Flare?”

“We’ll talk it out once we get there!” Keldeo galloped up to Joey side-first. “If we don’t get going, they might run off just like your buddy!”

At the thought of costing them even more information, Joey relented. The colt winced in pain as Joey hopped onto his back — the crocodile had to awkwardly apologize for his leg grazing one of the more sore burn marks as he mounted. By the time they were on the move, the others were already far ahead.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination. Joey could tell they arrived when he noticed lines of trees had completely collapsed. The fallen trunks formed a river of bark, carving through the mystery dungeon in straight lines. The stumps left behind were all cut at the same height — this devastation all happened in one clean motion.

The streams all fed back to a point of origin. Strange mounds of dirt dotted a gap in forest. At one point Joey thought they might have been walls, but the force that wiped out the trees must have ruined whatever the original shapes were. Two fallen trees blanketed the sight, flecking leaves overtop them.

“Oh man…” Keldeo mumbled. “Minichino’s gonna be super torn-up about this.”

A distanced, anguish scream on the other side of the clearing confirmed his suspicion.

Joey was intimidated by the sight. “That move’s done more damage than a razor on a head of hair.”

“That’s what I’d expect from Seed Flare!” Keldeo slowly strafed around the space, joining the others’ search for the source. “That’s Shaymin’s move, you know.”

“I reckon he’s a Legendary Pokémon, too.”

“Yup! Normally, he flies around the world, restoring trampled flowers and fallen trees,” Keldeo explained. “But I hear that, when he goes all out, he’s the one wrecking the place, kinda like this. Virizion told me she saw him do it once — it was totally scary!” The thought seemed to excite Keldeo, and he almost sped up before wincing at his singed leg.

Joey stared at the destruction around them. “I bet.”

“But here’s the thing.” Keldeo’s expression hardened. “Shaymin’s…not around. He—”

“You.”

That firm, seething word echoed through the forest. It was quickly followed by a slam, and the sound of crumbling. Cobalion had found who they were looking for.

Keldeo rushed to join the crowd. Virizion, Terrakion, and Minichino surrounded a scattered group of unconscious pokémon. In the center was Cobalion, using his weight to press the culprit against the shabby dirt wall.

“That power is not yours,” he spat. “Explain yourself!”

Joey’s maw hung open in surprise and confusion as he craned his head around Keldeo’s mane. The person Cobalion had confronted was… “Jermy?”

The bandanna-garbed pikachu coughed. “It’s a long story,” he answered Cobalion, before looking to Joey. “Man, the last way I thought this was gonna come out was with me biffing you guys with it…”

“‘Biffing’ is putting it lightly!” Terrakion exclaimed. “You’re lucky you didn’t kill anybody here!”

Jermy nodded in agreement. “That watchog used Hypnosis to control me.” He flicked his tail in the direction of one of the unconscious pokémon — a taller-looking chipmunk with weird striped on his body. “He forced me to go all out against Mathew and Meowth.”

“Wait, they’re here?!” Joey hadn’t even noticed on first pass. They were so muddy and beaten that they were hard to recognize splayed out like this.

Minichino approached something in the mud next to Meowth. “Hey, at least they got the Dwelling Bag.” She held it up in the air. “We’ve got revivers.”

“Phew…” Joey was relieved, but this didn’t answer the question at hand. “You’ve had this Legendary Pokémon power with you and you ain’t ever used it?” he asked Joey.

Jermy nodded sadly. “If I wasn’t under his thumb, I would never have. It’s not like I wanted this in the first place.”

“And yet here you are.” Cobalion’s press was unrelenting. “You house a stolen Essence. You were there when he died, weren’t you? Urshifu couldn’t find it in the rubble.”

“I wasn’t there during the fight. But…” Jermy hesitated, breathing heavily.

“Right, I totally forgot!” Minichino exclaimed, having just pulling out two seeds. “Shaymin died dueling Urshifu super early on in the war. When he died, the power spilled out of him out in the open. It’s supposed to be the winner’s responsibility to take care of their power until the war’s over and everyone comes back.” She acknowledged Joey. “I didn’t hear anything about it getting stolen…”

“We agreed to keep it a secret from the public,” Virizion explained. “This is the first time anything like this has ever happened during a Legendary War. It’s not unusual for Essences to be hard to find in the rubble. But disappearing? That’s new.”

“Ha. Haha…”

Jermy’s frail laughter echoed through the forest. All of them looked uneasily at the pikachu.

“It was us.” He hung his head. “It was all us. It’s OCEAN’s whole plan.”

Joey gasped. There was so much going on that it was hard for him to follow, but he understood enough. OCEAN was stealing Legendary Pokémon’s power, and Jermy had one. “Why the heck did you take it?!”

“They needed somebody to test the strategy on. What other bum would they turn to when they finally got their hands on an Essence?” He slumped under the pressure. “I was the first.”

---

The past twenty four hours were like a freshly drawn letter ruined by a spilled ink vial. Ugly splotches of pure black flooded the page, forming an impenetrable pool over the words. This page of Demurke’s life was illegible to her — but the words untouched, fresh strokes still glistening as they dried, said enough about the contents.

An OCEAN soldier was killed. Their retaliation was in full-force. And tonight, Demurke stood among them.

The murkrow watched as green shockwaves tore through the dungeon in the distance. She wasn’t a part of the hunt — Emily had permitted her to stay with her and Dit on the back-line long before they had arrived. She was far enough away from the action that she could see figures march, move and skitter about through the gaps in the trees.

Dit was playing guessing games on which one was which. “Oh, I dat one’s Mathews! Or, no, maybe…”

Demurke just kept her beak shut until her father stopped. She didn’t like that game.

It was fairly quiet on the hill. Dit had told the soldiers that this was meant to be a learning experience for their newest, so the more experienced members were gathered around the battle flag, on standby in case the situation grew dire. The pidgeot tasked himself with supplying his power from afar.

The hurricane symbol creased and whipped at the force of the storm hanging just above them. Demurke’s hat protected her eyes, but the rain was so forceful that it was depressing its shape. Dit’s blue wings fit right in by contrast — she was so used to seeing his wings glisten with droplets that it was hard to picture him with dry plumage.

Just after Jermy’s attack rang through, a figure emerged at the base of the hill and climbed. A few of the soldiers rose and got into defensive positions, but the resistance quickly dissolved at the sight of who approached.

“Emily!” Dit exclaimed. “How’s da fight?”

Emily looked up towards him as she continued making her way to the two of them at the base of the flag. “Not ideal,” she confessed. “The squads surrounded them, but the weather proved to be a disadvantage for both parties. A few fled along the dungeon’s perimeter, while some others used the dungeon shift to displace themselves. The squads are splintered from chasing after them.”

Dit seemed a touch disappointed, but his confidence was not swayed. “Da lot of ‘em are all bunched up in lil’ groups now! All we gotta do is—”

“Dit, the Swords of Justice made it to the fight. We need to call everyone in Bylaide Forest back and regroup.”

In the distance, thunder crashed down.

“Whaddaya talking about?!” the pidgeot cried. “Dis oughta be da best time to strike!” Demurke wasn’t surprised that Dit was more bothered by the order proposition than the new development. They knew the Swords would not be far away, after all.

“I disagree.” Emily squatted down and grabbed at a low part of the flag’s pole. “If they were still a coherent unit, we could afford to collapse on them all at once. But we came here with enough people for one fight, not many.” She pried the flag from the ground. The stake holding it in place remained half-buried. “The forces we brought are not equipped for a battle on multiple fronts with five Essence-holders.”

“We could still put ‘em a couple feet undah!” Dit proclaimed. “Maybe da pint-sized ones aren’t ready, but us leaders trained for fights just like this!”

“It’d have to be decisive,” Emily reminded him. “The circumstance is bad enough with Legendary Pokémon witnessing this at all. But if we kill a Sword of Justice here, the others will double their efforts to find out who we are and dismantle us.” She glared at Dit firmly. “Do you believe you, me and David can really take all of them and win?”

The pidgeot deflated. He looked to Demurke, as if she was supposed to have an answer for him.

“I—” She paused for an ‘ahem’. It was no wonder she was hoarse considering she hadn’t spoken all night. “I-I dunno.”

Dit seemed pained by the answer. “So we’s just gonna retreat…?”

“No. We will reduce the effort to something less overt — surveillance parties.” Emily pointed a flipper towards the area where the shockwaves came from. “One will follow Jermy and everyone who gathers around his attack.” Her flipper shifted eastward, where the dungeon bordered with the base of a pair of mountains. “The other will follow Mr. Persian and everyone else who retreated to the east. Once we know which group has fewer Essence-holders, we will focus the armies on them. We could reasonably win a fight with the weaker group, if we can catch them off-guard.”

“And if dose stragglers start spreading da word before we can get to ‘em?”

The empoleon glared at him disapprovingly. “We have options besides killing them.”

“Hmph.” Dit seemed dissatisfied, pouting and turning away from Emily, but the teeth in his resistance was gone. “You da boss.”

Demurke was still chewing on how Emily had categorized the groups. Obviously, Jermy was still out there, given the Seed Flare earlier, but… “M-Mr. Persian’s still out there?”

“He is.” Emily nodded. “I tried to talk down him and his son earlier. He managed to slip away — he’s faster than I expected.”

She came just short of sighing in relief. Rooting for the enemy is a sign of an insecure position, Demurke, she reminded herself. I can’t show that kind of weakness in front of Emily! Instead, Demurke straightened her posture and nodded.

Her father just shook his head. “How many’d we even get?” he asked. “Feels like dis was all a waste ‘o time.”

“If my reports on what happened down there are accurate…” Emily turn the flag in her flipper, using the other to fold up the flag. “One was killed. In a group that small, that could be enough to destabilize them.”

As Emily and Dit put the troops in motion to call everyone out of Bylaide Forest, those words echoed through Demurke’s mind.

Save those two Service Guild members, Demurke had spent at least a week getting to know everyone in that group. She watched Mathew and Joey claw their way up the recruitment ladder. She followed Politoed’s orders, toppled dungeon pokémon by Breloom’s side, and cleaned rooms with Minichino. She’d known the others for years.

Now one of them could be dead.

I can’t get worked up on the battlefield, Demurke thought. Shame creeped in as soldiers walking beside her passed worried looks. Her beak may not be as expressive as lips, but they could still read her face like an open book. She tilted her hat down, hoping the night would hide the rest.

Two deaths in twenty four hours — and both of them now rested on her conscience. It was hard enough when she knew who died. She was stuck wondering which one it was. Obviously not Mr. Persian or Jermy, so who?

Who would she be able to handle dying?

It was an awful thought. Comparing people’s deaths was an awful thing to do, but here Demurke was, unable to help herself.

Somebody in the couple losing their other half would be heart-wrenching. After he helped her in that cave, she only wanted the best Mathew. Joey’s just a kid. Minichino would be tragic, because…well.

And Meowth…

“So y-you aren’t leaving Kalmwa’er?”

Meowth’s dorm already looked barren. His two roommates, Politoed and Breloom, were already gone, so the fridges were emptied and the walls were stripped of their personalized decor. The cat’s attention was split between packing up what remained into suitcases and speaking with her. He was giving more of it to the luggage.

“Nope,” Meowth said as he carried a microwave from the dorm’s small kitchen space to his stack of belongings. “Did you think I was?”

“W-Well…” Demurke paused and paced a little in his room, looking for the right way to say what she wanted to. “I th-thought you’d have a…a lot of options with y-your new license. You could f-find work almost anywhere in the w-world!” She looked towards the dorm’s window for a moment. “There’s…a lot out there.”

Meowth didn’t seem phased by her sentiment. He picked up a bag that looked stuffed full of pillows. “No thanks. At this point, all I’m looking for is an easy job. I don’t need to leave Kalmwa’er for that.”

Demurke backed up a little. Her tail brushed up against the wall — there wasn’t much room for both of them in here.

She couldn’t help but feel saddened by his choice. There was so much that Solceus had to offer — the mountain of books in her room gave her more than enough proof of that. But Demurke couldn’t leave Fascamile and the few places it sent her to work in.

Meowth wasn’t trapped like that at all. He deserved the chance to leave this tourist trap behind and go someplace far away from OCEAN’s touch. Demurke kept a distant hope that he would take it.

After all, he had a whole life ahead of him.

Please, don’t let it be Meowth…

Chapter 34: Divide We Stand

Chapter 27: Divided We Stand

Jermy was starting to regret his choice to sleep through most of the day. Now that it was night, he couldn’t drop if he wanted to.

The pikachu slumped, shivering a little in the cold night. The five of them were gathered in a circle underneath a tree, dark enough to keep them out of sight. Terrakion had proposed a small fire, but there was no way they could put one together without possibly alerting soldiers to their location.

That collapsed base was behind them now. OCEAN had almost certainly seen the display, so they couldn’t afford to remain there. The Swords, refreshed by oran berries from the Dwelling Bag, had guided and carried them to the north end of the dungeon. Half of the group was still missing, so they were quick to turn around for one more search. Keldeo was the only one not to follow — he was put on night watch for the five of them. The colt was a few paces off, marching around the perimeter of the tree’s shade.

While they waited, they were expected to get a nap in. Most everyone else in their group had better luck — Joey was snoring loudly, and the Solceans were clearly asleep too. But not him.

How in blazes was Jermy supposed to sleep after bearing his heart under Cobalion’s hoof?

At least he wasn’t the only one too tormented to shut his eyes. He kept locking eyes with the very awake Mathew. He sat in a crumpled, postureless position, eyes following the distant Keldeo as he pranced. Waiting for another ambush, Jermy assumed.

Sometimes, when they looked at each other, Mathew would take a breath, then stop short, snapping his mouth shut and turning away. Jermy wasn’t sure if the hesitation was because he didn’t want to wake the others, or if he couldn’t decide if he actually wanted to speak his mind.

“If you have something to say,” Jermy whispered to him, “then just belt it out.”

Mathew leaned back into a better position. Breathily, he asked, “Did you know, Jermy?” Another breath. “About Mark?”

Jermy could feel his ears droop. The answer to that wasn’t something he was proud of. “From day one.”

He groaned, bringing a hand to the side of his skull mask. He didn’t say anything.

“We were trying to figure out how to ease you into it,” Jermy continued. “That’s why we chose to let you stay in that condo — we realized you living in the apartment raised the chance that you’d run into him. David told Mark to stay away, but I don’t really think it worked that well. He really wanted you to get hired.”

Mathew pulled his hand away, and a fierceness overtook him. “You lied to me this whole time!” His whisper became a much louder hiss and he slung his arm out. “First about this insane power you could’ve used this whole time, and now about my own son!”

Jermy bowed his head. The group had already heard his whole spiel about how he would have preferred he never been given Shaymin’s Essence, and so he spent his days as if he didn’t have it prior to now. But there was no easy justification for Mark. “I know. I’m really sorry, Mathew. I—”

“You said that you were a fan. So why?” Mathew’s gaze could’ve bored holes through. “You let me think he was dead.”

“I’m not my sister, okay?! I can’t tell them no!”

Jermy’s paws reached straight for his mouth. That was definitely far too loud of a response. In the few seconds of silence, his gaze leapt from sleeper to sleeper, checking for signs of him disrupting their sleep. There was a hitch in Joey’s snores…but it didn’t last. The rhythmic rise and fall of Minichino’s chest went uninterrupted. Meowth was curled up and still.

Phew. At least he hadn’t woken any of them—

“I’m doing it again.”

He looked to Mathew. The cubone’s eyes were wide with fear. His other hand was high in the air, as if he’d pulled it away from something sharp.

“It’s like a reflex. I started getting angry, so I…I grabbed it.”

Jermy craned his neck to see around Mathew. There, on the ground below his hand, was his bone club.

Mathew buried his head in his hands, ashamed. “Why does this keep happening…?”

Jermy couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. It wasn’t peachy knowing Mathew was willing to do that, but in a situation like this? “It’s been a rotten night,” he sympathized, his voice back down to a whisper. “I wouldn’t blame anybody for being all wound up.”

Trying to make him feel better, Jermy patted his shoulder in a ‘there, there’ sort of fashion. Mathew recoiling at his touch made him immediately regret doing that.

“So.” Mathew hunted for a different conversation topic. “You said…you had a sister?”

Jermy nodded. “Jane. She used to be a pilot on Earth, but when OCEAN started scraping for new forces, she ended up joining us.” For a second he wanted to leave it at that, but then he realized there was nobody to punish him for saying the truth about what she did. “Six years ago, she scampered off with a few others. She found out something OCEAN didn’t want her to — I don’t really know what it was. But it was bad enough that she helped start an underground rebellion against us.”

Mathew seemed surprised. “She turncoated?”

“Yep. She and her friends converted a boatload of OCEAN members into FLARE ones.”

“FLARE…” The cubone chewed on that for a moment. “What does that stand for?”

“Apparently, nothing,” he admitted. “They just thought it sounded cool.”

Mathew blinked. “Huh.”

“We couldn’t let FLARE exist for too long. The whole plan to stop Arceus involved keeping our goals a secret from the world, but since FLARE was mostly made up of ex-OCEAN people, they knew everything. I’d wager the only reason they didn’t make a beeline for the press was because they knew what we’d do next.” Jermy half-mindedly tugged at the rim of his bandana. ”But that didn’t stop us. We organized this huge mission and…we wiped them out. We destroyed everything, even the bodies.”

Mathew’s mouth hung open. “Did you…fight your sister, Jermy?”

“No.” His voice was suddenly dry. “I’m a scientist, not a soldier. The division used the opportunity to test the weapons we were preparing to fight the Legendary Court with.”

The memories of that day came flooding back.

A wall of monitors towered over Jermy. Twenty five screens captured the mass-execution in the highest definition they could afford. David stood at the console managing it all, speaking only to answer communicator calls with those on the field.

An aerial view followed the billowing smoke overtaking the sky. A ground view showed the abandoned battle flag as the lava rolled over the hill and set it alight. One four-foot tower crumbled from creeping heat; another was caved in by an electrified cannonball flung from a distant trebuchet.

A crowd who had evacuated quickly were confronted by a squad of their elite. Civilians and rebels alike were pinned between the fire and OCEAN. Jermy could hear the grunts and cries through the console’s calls.

A few of FLARE’s best managed to give OCEAN a cost for their cruelty. A nimble bunnelby used his ears to fling a cofagrigus into the lava before she could do the same to him. A quiet ceruledge sat and accepted her death, content with having rendered a half-dozen of Emmons Labs’ projects unusable with her blades. A silvally leapt through the wavering air from rooftop to rooftop, seeking survivors trapped in the falling buildings. A bloodied espeon and a battered jolteon stood back-to-back, prepared to take out as many of the soldiers surrounding them as they could. An aggron roared as he guarded a few smaller pokémon from a barrage of icicles.

One camera stayed affixed to Jane every second of the attack. The air-surfer raichu soared through the sky using her tail as a mock-hoverboard. She gritted her teeth, barely able to make sense of the smoke-covered scene from above.

Emily’s voice came through the console. “You have sight of her?” She asked. The empoleon, far away from the action, was speaking to the pilot of the tall, turret-like machine.

“Yeah, I got it.” The turret pilot — a gengar, one of their own — answered.

“And you won’t lose it when she goes into the smoke?”

“Don’t worry. I can see her just fine.”

“On my signal, then.”

They waited for the right moment to strike. Just when Jane dipped down towards the ruined town, heading for the silvally, Emily flung her flipper forward.

“Now!”

The laser cut through the air like butter. The camera following her showed it tearing right into her side. She yelled as she tumbled into the smoke.

They never saw her again. Everyone else was picked off — the number of survivors on FLARE’s side was in the single digits, if there were any at all. OCEAN vanished into the shadows, and the world blamed a natural phenomenon for the deaths. They declared it a sound victory.

And what had Jermy done?

“I just…watched.”

“Goddamn,” Mathew whispered. “That’s an awful way to lose a loved one.”

“That’s the insane thing,” Jermy said. “I’ve played that moment back so many times. We knew that it wasn’t a kill-shot, but we thought she must’ve fallen to her death after. I lived in that reality for so long… And today, I learned it was wrong.”

Mathew seemed confused. “Wrong how?”

“Do you know who made ASHES, Mathew? Who helped sneak Politoed and Breloom into the Pick-it Up Club so they could get living proof of the recruitment process?” Jermy heaved. “It’s her. They told me when you went to snag your stuff. She’s still fighting.”

“Holy shit!” This time it was Mathew who was almost loud enough to wake the others. “I had no idea.”

“You couldn’t have known. I wasn’t bold enough to break out of OCEAN’s thumb. I mean, just look at how easily that watchog did his work on me! I’m better at burying myself behind a screen. The only screen Jane needed was a cockpit.”

Mathew sighed. “Two months versus five years… I guess they screwed both of us ov—”

“Waaah!”

Jermy jolted as his attention was snapped away from the cubone. That yell hadn’t come from Mathew — he had lurched just like Jermy. It was from Minichino, leaping up from her nap in a total panic. She burst out into a sprint, heading straight for the colt in the shadows. “Heeey! Keldeo!” she called far more loudly than she should’ve.

Her yell was enough to rouse the other sleepers. “I thought we were supposed to stay quiet,” Meowth mumbled as he uncurled.

Joey groaned as he sat up, eyes half-lidded. “What in tarnation is going on…?”

“Beats me,” Jermy admitted. He was asking the same question — What the hey had gotten her so freaked out?

The sound of galloping echoed from the forest’s edge as Keldeo barreled to meet her. “Woah, hey, is everything okay?!”

“Dude, remember when you said Gate messages feel like this freaky head pain?”

Keldeo skidded to a stop, the urgency sinking out of his posture. “Oh, uh, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Because I think I’m feeling that right now…!”

Jermy was filled with a mix of relief and confusion. A Gate message was nothing dangerous, so Minichino was fine…but who could be calling her? Priests only had to ensure they could contact their respective Legendary Pokémon. But the other three Swords were only a short run away from them. Was there really something so urgent that they needed to contact them this way?

“What are you waiting for?!” Keldeo cried. “Answer it!”

“Right, got it!” Minichino calmed herself, stilling her body and her tail as she shut her eyes and focused. “This is Minichino speaking. Who the heck is—” Her focus was shattered as she gasped, wide-eyed. “No way! Dude, we’ve been worried about you! …Oh, no, we’re all safe-ish here too. The Swords are with us, and so are the humans and Meowth.”

Jermy squinted an eye, trying to figure out the person was she was talking to. One of their own? But none of them were Legendary…

Mathew seemed even more lost as he awkwardly approached Minichino. “Who’s on the other side?”

Minichino snapped her head back, as if she’d totally forgotten about everyone besides Keldeo. “Oh, right! Guys, check it out!”

She flicked her head forward, and just as the Swords had appeared to them in the Service Guild, a figure materialized in front of her. But it wasn’t any Legendary that stood before them.

The fuzzy, holographic Politoed turned toward Keldeo. “Guess we moved a little too slow for you,” he said apologetically to the colt.

“Nah, we were the ones too slow for you!” he said with a smile. “Sorry about that.”

Jermy zipped past the others towards Minichino and Keldeo, getting in the range where Politoed could see him at lightning speed. “Hey! You made it out in one piece!”

It was more like three pieces, between the frog himself, his King’s Rock, and his medallion, but Politoed indeed seemed alright. In fact, on closer inspection, Jermy started thinking he was too alright. Besides a stern expression and eyes strained from lack of sleep, there was hardly an injury on him. The Dwelling Bag with all their healing items was with Meowth… Had they found oran or sitrus berries in the wild while escaping OCEAN?

“Oh thank God!” Mathew, running towards the frog at a speed slower than lightning, didn’t leave Jermy time to consider this further. “Everyone else is okay, right?”

“Eheheheh!” Poliwrath’s laughter echoed from afar. “As if a couple ‘a troublemakers would be a problem for Chip and I!”

“We’re a bit busy right now setting up our shelter for the night, so we can’t give our full attention.” A half-formed chatot wing waved at them before retreating and vanishing. “But there’s nothing to worry about. Focus on your own safety.”

In contrast, another figure’s entire body stumbled into the unmarked circle. “Minichino…?”

The minccino was so happy, she almost squealed. “Mr. Persian!” She ran up to the cat and attempted to hug him, only to swing her arms at air and nearly fall over.

Mr. Persian stumbled back, seeming surprised by the no-touch nature of their communication. His happiness quickly gave way to mild desperation. “Is Meowth with you too? Please, tell me you both are safe.”

Meowth slowly prodded towards his father. “Emily didn’t take you out?”

“Terrakion helped me get away.” Mr. Persian looked to Meowth, and his expression warmed. “You’re unhurt… I’m so glad.”

He shrugged. “Not physically, yeah.”

Jermy backed away from the quickly crowding space. Although it was a little claustrophobic, it was nice to see that the ambush hadn’t brought them down for the count.

Although, now that he counted, there were two people still missing, weren’t there? One was ORB, which Jermy probably found more worrisome than the rest of the group. The other…

Joey took Jermy’s place in the crowd, a worried look spread on his maw. “Hey, is Breloom with y’all? She got healed up, right...?” he asked, looking left and right for her.

It was as if the totodile had torn open a mending wound. Grim expressions spread across Meowth and Minichino’s faces. Although Mathew’s face was still guarded by his mask and goggles, the sorrow reached his eyes. All of them saw what happened to Breloom.

What surprised Jermy was Politoed and Mr. Persian. They had a reaction, but not of sadness — rather, there was an air of anticipation. They looked expectantly in a direction away from any of them, beyond what their communication could show.

“Got healed up, yeah.” Politoed spoke slowly, seeming distracted. “Helping my brother and Chip with the camp right now. Uh…”

Joey squinted at the frog. “What’s got you so tongue-tied?”

Politoed’s attention stayed fixated outside the Gate. Jermy swore he saw Politoed’s bulbous fingers shift, but the rest of the group blocked enough of his body that the pikachu couldn’t make sense of it.

Suddenly, Politoed pulled himself back into attention. “Never mind. Nothing to worry about,” he said quickly.

“You’re absolutely sure Breloom is fine?” Mathew insisted.

Mr. Persian butted in. “She isn’t in the best mood right now,” he explained. “Earlier, she told us she didn’t want to join in on our call. We were struggling to figure out how to break that news to you. That’s all.” The cat cracked a wide smile that Jermy found endearing.

“She did kind of get her butt kicked, huh?” Minichino sympathized. “It’s no sweat. Just tell Breloom we’re thinking about her, okay?”

Politoed nodded. “Will do.”

“So we all lived?” Mathew threw his head back, stunned. “Goddamn. We are the luckiest people alive right now.”

Jermy bobbed his head in agreement. Compared to what he saw five years ago, this was surprisingly mild.

“It’s not luck — you had our help!” Keldeo boasted, before turning to Politoed. “Speaking of us, the other Swords are out looking for you in the forest right now.”

“Were looking. Sounds like you have it covered though!”

Terrakion’s voice took everyone by surprise. Indeed, the three Swords of Justice were approaching them at a leisurely, quiet pace.

“Hey guys!” Keldeo exclaimed, brightening up simply from their presence.

Jermy sighed, relieved there was no danger. “Whew! You almost scared the bejeebus outta me…”

“I don’t know what a ‘bejeebus’ is, but scaring you all was not our intent,” Cobalion proclaimed. He studied the fuzzy frog. “Did you arrange this call?”

“Yep,” Politoed answered. “Realized it was the best way to get in touch with Minichino after the fight.”

The stag seemed perturbed by that answer. It was a weaker emotion than the determined fury he showed Jermy, but it still caught the pikachu off-guard. What was so wrong about that?

“So, obviously, we didn’t find the rest of your group,” Virizion said.

This seemed to pull Cobalion out of it. “Right. We also didn’t encounter any of the soldiers from before.”

Joey seemed disappointed. “So resting on our laurels did no good?”

“Not true!” Terrakion came forward. “We found someone while we were out there. I’ve never seen a pokémon like him before, though. I’m not really sure if he’s with you, but he insists that he is, so…”

He turned to expose his side. Sure enough, a tiny, green figure stood out from the bovine’s hide. He gripped onto an orange spike with a single, curved claw.

“For once, I’m actually happy you gave me a claw arm.”

“Oh my gosh! ORB!” Jermy had never been happier to see his robot. He sped towards Terrakion to get a better look. “Here I was, worried you’d gotten torn up out there!”

“It was unlikely I’d be hit due to my size. After the dungeon shift, I went undetected. Thanks to Terrakion, I am able to live another day. Hooray.” As usual, ORB’s voice was entirely monotonous.

“So he is your friend, then!” Terrakion seemed happy, but his grin wavered and he shuffled in place a little. “Could you…take him off me, please? These spikes are kinda sensitive, you know.”

“Oh, sure!” Jermy promptly pulled ORB off of Terrakion and into a hug. “Missed you, buddy.”

“We were only separated for one hour, twenty minutes, and twelve seconds. Thirteen. Fourteen.”

“Still counts!” He put his robot down, giving him some space to move.

Joey turned towards the rest of the group. “Y’all, I know he’s a big hunk of metal,” he said, “but I’m kinda glad he didn’t get hurt. Ain’t that weird?”

“No shame in getting attached to a machine,” Mathew reassured him.

“I hate to break up this reunion,” Cobalion cut in, “but you told us you had important information, ‘ORB’.”

“Yes.” ORB wheeled into what best resembled the center of the gathering. “While I was carried here, I took the opportunity to scan the perimeter of the dungeon using my aura-detecting abilities.”

“You can do that?!” Keldeo exclaimed. “Woah…”

ORB ignored the excitable colt. “I can confirm with full confidence that OCEAN has left Bylaide Forest. We are alone.”

“Alone?” Jermy repeated, befuddled. The OCEAN of five years ago scorched the land trying to rid itself of FLARE, and that was when Jane and her team were at peak performance. Time hadn’t made the army division toothless, he was certain of that… So why retreat? There was only one reason that made sense.

Politoed tilted his head down sagely, eyes shut. “Guess they noticed we got separated — and decided we’re the easier targets. They’re after us.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Jermy said, a little impressed. Clearly, Politoed knew how OCEAN ticked as much as he did. Did he have Jane to thank for that?

Joey seemed very alarmed by this. “Where are y’all right now?! We gotta giddyup over there before they beat us to you!”

“None of us made it in time for the dungeon shift, so we couldn’t use it to get away,” Mr. Persian explained. “Politoed directed us to go east.”

“East?” Keldeo seemed surprised. “You mean towards the Raidissent Pass?”

Jermy remembered Politoed mentioning that dungeon on the way to Bylaide Forest. “Didn’t you say that dungeon was super mountainous?”

“And that it goes right around Vahle Village!” Minichino cried.

“Goes right around Vahle,” Politoed said, “but it is another path to Mithlline from this area. Lots more alcoves and tiny caves here, too. It’s no town, but it’s decent for taking shelter.”

“We have the Dwelling Bag.” Meowth raised his arm, showing it off. “Do you have food sources out there?”

“Enough to last us to Tagneanse,” Mr. Persian said. “We will make do.”

Minichino gave a sweeping look around the group, looking distraught. “Wait. So… We’re not getting back together?”

“No.” It was ORB who answered her. “Between the Swords and Jermy on our side, and the four fighters on their side, we can afford to force OCEAN to spread itself thin. They can pressure the green team now, but they will tire out navigating the more dangerous dungeon. Like a bad breakup, your chance of survivability increases with distance from your ex.”

“Green team?” Politoed sounded surprisingly insulted.

Jermy pondered ORB’s logic. He’d engineered him, so he of all people knew his conclusions were of good accuracy. But this still felt like an awful risk. The two groups were obviously imbalanced.

Terrakion looked away and grit his teeth, seeming to think the same. “I dunno if I like this plan… It’s five Essences to zero. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Goodness’ sake, have some faith!” A distant Chip called.

“Three of us have trained for situations like this our whole lives.” Politoed raised a fist. “Don’t underestimate us.”

Cobalion craned his neck to ensure his glare reached the frog. “If you’re certain.”

Politoed did not waver.

Mr. Persian looked sorrowfully at Meowth. “I’m sorry to get pulled away so soon. I promise we won’t be long.”

The cat simply crossed his arms. “I’ve already waited six years. What’s a few more days at this point?”

Mr. Persian winced, eyes wavering.

Minichino brushed a paw across her face, as if to literally wipe her sadness away, then winked at the two of them. “See you on the other side, dudes.”

Politoed waved. “Let us know if you need anything!”

With that, the two pokémon fizzled away, and the group was left to themselves.

Cobalion pulled his head back, but his firmness remained. He gave a sweeping look over the five mortals. “Just who is that politoed?”

“Uh, he’s one of the Club members, just like the rest of us,” Joey said, seeming confused by the question.

“I’m not asking how you met him — I’m asking where he came from.” Cobalion firmly marched toward Minichino. “When you performed the tethering ceremony with Politoed, did he tell you who gave him that power?”

Minichino grinned awkwardly. “He uh…never actually told me which one. He wanted to keep some provisions in case we got caught, you know?”

Virizion grimaced disappointedly. “And you still trusted him…?”

Mathew gripped the side of his mask, seeming uncomfortable. “I’m lost. What’s a tethering ceremony?”

Jermy stepped in to explain. “It’s a ritual that forms a psychic bond between two pokémon. You have to do it before you can contact somebody through a Gate. Normally it’s between a mortal and a Legendary…”

“Yeah! When Minichino became my priest, we did the ceremony so she can call on us anytime!” Keldeo exclaimed.

“When me, Politoed, and Breloom decided we were gonna work together,” Minichino told them, “he suggested that the two of us perform the ceremony too, just in case.”

“But that should be impossible,” Cobalion informed them. “Two mortals can’t tether their souls unless both of them have previously performed the ritual with a Legendary Pokémon.” He closed his eyes in thought. “For him to have that ability, your friend must have been in-league with one.”

“Oh, golly, that’s a good point!” Jermy hadn’t thought twice about Politoed being capable of making contact that way. After all, he’d seen David use a Gate to speak with Emily all the time back when he was a rowlet. Before their technology improved and both of them got too busy to draw a Gate, it was their preferred communication method. To him, it seemed normal.

“Man, now I regret never asking…” Minichino said sheepishly. “There’s no way he’s a priest like me. Totally doesn’t act like one.”

Joey turned to Meowth. “I reckon you don’t know either?” he asked.

“No,” Meowth answered with a touch of gloom. “The years we spent as roommates didn’t change much. I don’t really know them.”

Terrakion intervened in the line of questioning. “Let’s worry about this later! We need to get you all to Vahle Village — I think all of you could use the rest.”

“Terrakion’s right.” Virizion turned her back to the group, then crouched down. “I can carry somebody there.”

Not two seconds later, Meowth was already climbing aboard. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Oh! Joey, lemme carry you!” Keldeo nudged the totodile. “You’re kinda heavy, so you make great practice.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Cobalion offered Mathew room on his back. “I don’t think there’s room for all five of you.”

“Hey, I’ll walk!” Minichino said, jumping from one foot to the other. “I could go another mile, I’m so hyped up!”

“Wow,” ORB remarked, “Even Legendary Pokémon forget to count me.”

“Sorry, buddy!” Jermy called from atop Terrakion. “Maybe one day, I’ll make you taller! Then people might stop tripping over you!”

“You say that as if you aren’t number one on the ‘tripping on ORB’ leaderboard, with a total of twenty-eight trips.”

“That’s just because you’re around me all the time!” he snapped back.

ORB’s wheel glided along the ground soundlessly. “Do you want me to list the ‘tripping on things in ORB’s proximity that are not ORB’ leaderboard?”

“…I let you make one of those?”

The two’s bickering did not stop Minichino and the Swords from continuing their walk towards Vahle Village. They followed a dirt path that began just beyond the forest’s edge. The trees cleared, giving way to rolling hills directing them downward. Already, Jermy could see lights where a winding river met the base of the hills. The journey there wouldn’t be long.

Just ahead, Jermy could hear Mathew speaking to Cobalion in a soft voice. “Speaking of weird things… I wanted to ask you about something.”

“I will try to answer,” he said bluntly.

“Can a pokémon, like, project their voice into the air? And into somebody’s head?”

Cobalion quirked a nonexistent brow. “I don’t understand. Why do you ask?”

The cubone sighed. “There’s this voice that’s been talking to me, ever since we were in that cave. I think she’s…trying to help? But I don’t know who the hell she is.”

Meowth looked intrigued. “Is that what you heard earlier?”

“Yeah,” he said. “She led us to Jermy.”

Virizion straightened her head and looked out towards the hills shrouded by night. “That is strange. Could a psychic type be trailing us?”

Joey groaned, splaying out atop Keldeo. “Does this wild bullride ever end…?”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” Terrakion quickly assured him. “Don’t worry about it, alright?”

“Sure.” Mathew didn’t sound satisfied, but he accepted nonetheless. “Just be prepared. The first time she spoke to me…she imitated my voice, and pretended to voice my thoughts.”

…What?

Jermy’s breath hitched. He hugged Terrakion’s back tightly, trying to make sense of what he just heard.

That morning, at Misery Cave…there was somebody there who could fake thoughts.

OCEAN will never be the place you want it to be again. You have to find another way.

He knew there was something weird about that thought. That idea, that spark that drove him to fight back… Was it not his?

Chapter 35: Over the Hump

Chapter 28: Over the Hump

Every step of the way to Vahle Village, Mathew had gripped onto Cobalion’s sides as firmly as his little mitt-hands would let him. It wasn’t just because he was worried about falling off in his half-awake, spiraling stupor.

The image of what Jermy described to him still lingered in his mind. OCEAN possessed the power to wipe out a rebel force many times their size — it was incredible fortune that their lives had been spared. At any moment, Mathew thought, one of their members could simply come back and destroy them all. Emily, or David, or Dit…or Mark. Not even Politoed and Breloom could protect them from this anymore. The Swords of Justice had been their only true security tonight.

That’s why it was so surreal to see fire-lit streetlamps and realize he didn’t have to cling so tightly anymore. After so many hours of Hell, the group was finally in the arms of quaint civilization. A nest to sleep on was mere minutes away. Did they finally find somewhere safe?

Mathew swiveled his head left and right, looking for buildings. He was left a little confused when he saw none. The dirt path the Swords took carved through steep hillsides that walled their flanks. They were similar to that sod fortress, except these hills seemed natural and flush with the ground.

The only proof that this was a village at all were the few civilians walking the paths, attending to whatever strange business happened past midnight. Some gave wide-eyed stares towards the passing Legendary Pokémon, while others verbally greeted them and asked worriedly about the mortal travelers. A seed-shaped pokémon with prickly green spikes rolled up and fangirled at the sight of them, making such a fool of herself that Terrakion had to lecture her.

It was only in this commotion that Mathew made sense of what he was seeing. A round, purple pokémon with yellow-tipped ears emerged from one of the hills, attracted to the scene those two were making. It was somewhat hidden by moss and leaves, but he had clearly come out of a door, affixed to the hill. There was even a window of sorts carved next to it, with sticks for window-frames. Inside, he could see dirt floors, walls, and roofs, filled with furniture and other decoration.

Burrow-homes. These pokémon lived like hobbits.

A few blurry moments later, and the Swords arrived at what seemed to be their destination. The hills cleared out somewhat to make room for a far tinier hill… Er, that was a hill, right? It was shaped like one, but the rocks and tree seemed unnaturally small.

“Mayor Torterra,” Virizion said, approaching. “We’ve returned.”

There was a yawn, and suddenly the hill began turning…and opening its eyes. “Aaah, sooorry,” the not-really-a-hill slurred with an aged voice. “Yooou caaaught meee in the miiiddle of myyy nap.” Now Mathew could see his face — he resembled a green turtle, with a black hooked nose and white tusks on the sides. There was an immediate worry in his eyes. “Oooooh dear. Are theeese the traaaavelers youuu spoke of?”

“Probably,” Meowth said wearily from atop Virizion’s back.

“Hey…” Joey gave a weak wave. It wasn’t clear if Mayor Torterra could even see it past Keldeo’s mane.

“I’d bow, but…God, I am tired,” Mathew admitted. He and Jermy were the only ones who had skipped the nap opportunity earlier, and the latter was already snoring on Terrakion. Mathew was worried he’d collapse the moment Cobalion’s shifting body stopped keeping him at attention.

“We can explain later,” Cobalion asserted. “These five need shelter immediately. You should also inform Silvahle of a threat to the south.”

“Silvaaaahle is buuuusy right now — Maaaaasquerain’s chiiiild snuck ooooff to play near the riiiiver, and heeeee went to looook for him. But Iiiii will tell him when he’s baaaaack.”

“Lucky kid,” Mathew mumbled. He remembered seeing that the river ran along the north of town and went east towards Raidissent Pass. Mathew tried not to picture a world where it went through Bylaide Forest instead.

Mayor Torterra studied the minccino, the robot, and the four riders. “Aaaas for youuuu… I’m afraaaaiiid we don’t haaave many plaaaaces for traaavelers. Silvaaaahle’s told us to keeeeep some neeests in case of tiiiimes like this. I aaaasked my dauuughter to haaaandle that, but—”

“You don’t have to summon me, Dad. I heard you talking.”

The door of a hill facing into the clearing creaked open, and another pokémon emerged. It was a blue otter with thick, white whiskers and a black bill tail. Holstered into their dark, pants-like fur were two seashells. Mathew needed no further introduction — he’d seen a dewott before.

“I’ve got some nests ready in my place,” the dewott asserted as she gaving a sweeping look at the group. “It’s not perfect, but I can make it work for a few…” Suddenly, she paused, and her gaze squinted. “Oh, you have to be kidding.”

A starry-eyed Minichino sucked air like she was a vacuum cleaner. “No. Way.” She scurried up to the dewott, filled with excitement. “Sheilott! Dude, you work here?! I totally would’ve come visited if I knew that!”

Sheilott crossed her arms. “Hmph. Didn’t I always say I would carry a village on my back, Minichino?”

Her smile wavered, but she seemed pleased nonetheless. “Still as sharp as your scalchops, huh…”

Mayor Torterra’s expression brightened at the sight. “Ooooh, do youuu two knoooow each other?”

“Totally!” Minichino answered. “We were friends back in Scolton!”

Sheilott shut her eyes. “We grew up in the same orphanage…attended the same school…trained on the same grounds…”

“We’re friends,” she repeated.

Well, that was nice, Mathew supposed. Having a connection in Vahle would make it easier… Wait. What did she just say?

“The orphanage…?” Joey repeated.

Meowth blinked. “What?”

So he wasn’t going crazy. Mathew’s stomach dropped as he replayed the past week or so in his head. Were there ever any parents around this fourteen year-old?

Keldeo looked nervously at the riders. “Oh, did she never tell you guys?”

“Tomorrow,” he snapped, crashing that train of thought himself by switching up the tracks. It was his final gambit to get himself to that coveted nest in the dewott’s home.

“Oh, yeah, that can wait, I think.” Prompted by Mathew, Keldeo galloped Joey towards Sheilott’s home, directing the Swords to follow. “Good night, you guys!”

He didn’t even remember getting from Cobalion to the nest before blacking out.

---

Splish. Splash. Splish. Every slow, hobbling step waded Mathew along. Both feet were numb now.

He wasn’t sure what was driving him. Perhaps it was the phantom motions of the night’s travel, or maybe it was a subconscious curiosity. Regardless, he had begun an unwitting journey through the endless sea of red, looking for something in this empty place.

Mathew’s skull mask rattled, and he couldn’t see far. A storm of colorful dust had overtaken the black sky. He wasn’t sure if he preferred the empty canvas or the noisy spectrum that now painted the air.

There was no time. Nothing to ground himself with. It was an eternity of travel across a wet purgatory.

Until it wasn’t.

Mathew found it. He hadn’t known what he was looking for, but the moment he laid his eyes upon it, he understood that this was where he was supposed to end up. The black floor inclined, forming an island above the red ocean. And at the island’s peak, dug into the ground by the corner, was a lone mirror.

He stepped out of the water onto a black surface devoid of texture and approached the mirror. It had a pale ornate frame — Mathew was pretty sure a matching one hung in his house on Earth.

Mathew stared into the mirror. Mathew stared back at him. Nothing remarkable or special happened as he stood there, frozen in place.

It was just him on the other side.

Him, who killed a man today.

Him, who made thousands laugh.

Him, who condemned hundreds to death.

Him, who makes two-sided sandwiches.

Him, who can’t even make his own son like him.

Him, who convinced a company he was worth it.

Him, who LOOKED DOWN

Mathew squirmed in place. His breaths quickened. His heart pounded. What were these thoughts? What were these feelings? They came from everywhere.

The sound of something hurling through the air cut through the noise of the dust storm. He could see it in the reflection.

The club whipped past his head—

SMASH.

Mathew gasped.

The glass fell.

But the reflection was still there.

---

Mathew gasped awake, throwing himself into a sitting position. He pressed his hand to his mask as he steadied his breathing. Reality slowly set back in.

Another bizarre nightmare… Guess his subconscious wasn’t satisfied with the one he got when the dungeon shift knocked him out. Great.

He cast the dream aside to get his bearings. Sunlight pouring from carved windows illuminated Sheilott’s home. The copious closets lining the curved walls, paired with hangers to put clothes like scarves and hats and cute little dewott-sized coats on, told Mathew that this was Sheilott’s dressing room with five nests hastily laid on its floor. There was a door leading out of the hill in the direction opposite Mayor Torterra. Maybe this was really her front door, and she’d welcomed them in through the back.

He called it a room, but that would imply it was an enclosed space, which it wasn’t. In fact, there were no doors beyond the front and back. An open wall led into a lounge, which led into a proper bedroom, which led into a kitchen. It was a remarkably two-dimensional living quarters.

All the nests around him were empty. Was he the last one awake? It hadn’t done him much favors — he was still groggy.

He climbed to his feet and made for the door, only to pause. Somebody had taken the courtesy of removing his goggles from him and putting it on one of the hangers. Should he take it with him?

No, he promptly concluded. Vahle Village is our haven. I shouldn’t need them here.

When his eyes adjusted to the sunlight beyond the door, he finally saw what he had expected to see when he arrived. The roads between the hill-sides were populated by many more pokémon, moving along at relaxed paces. A rookidee hopped along with a spring in her step; a pink deerling smiled and said hello as he walked by; a drowzee hobbled past with a smug look on his face; and several more went down the path whose species he could not place. Now it felt like a village instead of a hamlet.

“Excuse me, sir!”

Mathew was pulled out of his groggy idling by a nasily, snively voice. Approaching him was a mole pokémon with massive claws and a long, pink-tipped nose. His black body was contrasted with edged blue strips that ran diagonally around his chest and arms.

“You simply must be — sniff — Sheilott’s guests, is that right?” he asked.

Mathew shook his head, trying to process what this stranger just said. “Huh? Wha… How’d you hear about that?”

“Oh, she’s been in a hurry all morning — sniff — asking for cooks to contribute to her picnic lunch! She — sniff — wants to give you that ‘Vahle hospitality’, I bet.” He grinned, eyes squinting from the sun hanging over their heads.

…Over their heads? Had he really slept in that long?

“Anyway,” he rattled on without letting Mathew talk, “I thought you’d like to know that — sniff — me and my family run the local housing business here. We mound the hills up and carve right through them!”

“Ah.” That did make sense — a pokémon this adept at digging would be a dominant force here. But why, exactly, was he telling him this?

“Are you staying here for an extended time, sir? We’d be happy to — sniff — arrange a hill-home for you.”

Oh. This mole was trying to sell him something. Mathew groaned. “No… I don’t think we’re staying long.”

The mole tapped his claws together like a little, helpless creature. “Oh, but sir, I think my family could whip up a home — sniff — much better than wherever you plan to go! I can picture it now: an absolute dome of a hill, lit by one perfectly-placed — sniff — window. It’d be the size of a little warehouse, guarded by the Giant’s Ridges for — sniff — extra privacy, and—”

“The first rule of door-to-door selling: ‘when the door closes, the transaction is over’. He’s closed the door, so take a hint.”

The mole peered upward, then sunk down in sadness. “Aw…sniff.” He turned around and hobbled away, dragging his claws along the grass.

“ORB?” Mathew was more concerned with the sudden appearance of the robot’s voice than the bad salesmen. Like the mole, he looked up towards the clouds.

“It’s cute that you think I can fly.”

Mathew whipped around and finally found the source of his voice. There, near the top of Sheilott’s house, ORB stood, balancing his wheel to avoid rolling down to the cubone. “Oh! Hey. Where’s everyone else?”

“Sheilott is busy preparing a picnic, like the drilbur said,” he explained. “Mayor Torterra is on a walk around town with Silvahle, and the Swords of Justice left town to sleep. As for the rest…”

“Heeeeeey!” Minichino’s voice echoed beyond the crest of the hill. “Dude, you should totally come up here! Sheilott’s roof is a great sunbathing spot.”

“Uh, sure!” Mathew ran around the door and climbed up the steep incline on all-fours.

Everyone was accounted for atop the hill. Minichino was splayed out as if she were making a snow-angel in a place with no snow and no angels. Meowth was propping up the back of his head with his paws. Jermy was standing up, reaching for the sky in a big stretch. Joey was sitting on his tail, staring distantly at the village.

Mathew plopped himself down next to Joey. “Sorry for getting up so late,” he said.

The totodile snapped out of his fixation at Mathew’s words. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Uh, it ain’t a big deal. I tip-toed out so everyone could sleep in.”

Mathew couldn’t blame Joey for his focus — from the ‘rooftops’, they could see so much more of the town. Little bumps peeked out between each other, neither towering over any of its peers -- except for one large near-mountain of a hill overtaken by trees to the west. With their smaller pokemon bodies, it looked even more towering than it probably would on Earth.

“Well, thanks,” he remarked. “What have I missed?”

“Not much!” Jermy said. “Minichino said that she’d spill the whole tea about last night, but she’s not yet.”

Minichino stood up and pouted. “Hey, I was getting to it! I wanted everyone to be awake for this.” She smugly peered at Meowth. “I was kinda expecting you to be last, but I guess Mathew was the bigger sleeper here.”

Mathew braced himself for a snappy clap-back from Meowth — but it never came. The cat turned his body on his side, looking away from Minichino. “Go ahead and tell your story.”

“Uh…” Minichino seemed a bit stunned by the non-response. “Sure. Yeah. Yeah!” She quickly swept that falter aside, marching to the center of the relaxing group. “So, you guys already know that I’m a priest — and a pretty young one, too.” She struck a confident pose, somewhat proud of this fact. “That’s because I spent my childhood right in the heart of the action: the Great Church of Arceus in Scolton, the biggest religious hub in the world!”

“Scolton?” Joey asked. “I reckon I’ve heard that name somewhere before…”

“I totally wouldn’t be surprised,” she said. “Since the Legendary Court’s always visiting to make announcements, carry out ceremonies, and do other stuff, the news is always hounding the place. The church even runs their own newspaper!” Minichino sweeped a paw across the sky, as if sweeping the title into reality. “The Scolton Gateway…”

Mathew vaguely remembered the name from TV news, too. Maybe he should’ve paid more attention to those broadcasts. “So you lived in an orphanage there, and that’s how you got qualified so fast?”

“Yep!” she said. “The Scolton orphanage is run by the head priests, so it’s basically the most spiritual living out there. Kids like Sheilott and me got tons of practice quick! Keldeo was super impressed. I guess I had it pretty good!”

Mathew had an objection readied in his throat, but quickly swallowed it down. “Well, that explains why you’re such a go-getter,” he said instead.

The cubone understood that his perception of orphanages was probably painted by fiction more than anything, but his gut reaction was still to assume that no good child-raising could happen there. How could it, when there were no dedicated mothers or fathers? Considering she was describing what sounded like the social bridge between mortals and gods, he hoped her orphanage was better than that.

Joey seemed more concerned with something else. “I don’t really get how you got from ‘priest in Scolton’ to ‘Club co-owner in Kalmwa’er’. What the heck happened there?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that’d be the confusing part, huh?” Minichino seemed a bit hesitant. “Well, when I turned 13, I decided I was gonna chip in at Kalmwa’er’s Church of Arceus. The place sounded super cool, and it’s decently sized, so I’d make friends quick! But then OCEAN, through the Resort, found out I was around.”

“You have a history.” Meowth rolled over, interest piqued. “I remember seeing that they had files on you going back years.”

Minichino sat down, paws firmly planted on the slope. “Yeah. It’s gotta do with…why I grew up in an orphanage.”

A pit formed in Mathew’s stomach. Oh, God. She wasn’t going to say what obviously followed that, was she?

“I actually first moved into the orphanage when I was six. Before that, I lived with my mom and dad in this tiny town called Fascamile.”

“Damn,” Mathew mumbled. Exactly what he feared.

Jermy’s eyes beaded. “Oh.”

“Fascamile…?” Joey straightened his posture, a bit distraught. “That’s not the same Fascamile as…?”

“Yep!” she said. “The weird thing is, I swear ‘OCEAN’ or ‘SEAS’ never came up when I was little. They were just the Fascamile Town Council back then. I dunno what’s up with that.” Minichino shrugged and continued on, seeming bolder now that the bandage was peeled off. “Mom and Dad weren’t into all that stuff though. Dad worked at a library, and Mom stayed at home to take care of me. Then one day, they just picked me up one afternoon and said we were leaving.”

“And then they ambushed you, like today?” Meowth said.

“Right in the middle of a mystery dungeon! Kinda lucky for me -- one of the dungeon pokémon, this striped zigzagoon, came in and totally saved my butt. I don’t think I would’ve gotten away from Dit without him. It was double lucky that the Swords found me staking out in a dungeon a couple days later!” Minichino sighed nostalgically. “Anyway, when they found me out again, they totally wanted revenge for me sneaking away. But Emily came in and was like ‘We should put her to work instead.’ And that’s how I got paired up with Mr. Persian!”

Mathew just shook his head. “What a story.” If this was Earth and not Solceus, he wasn’t sure if he’d believe it. “As if there wasn’t enough reason to put him under the ground…”

“Ditto,” Jermy said.

Minichino tilted her head. “Why under the ground?”

Mathew just shrugged. What was so weird about that?

The totodile next to him stood up and approached her. “I’m real sorry for your loss. I ain’t gonna pretend like I know how that feels.” He offered a hand to pat her on the shoulder with.

“Hey, you’ve been without your mom and dad this whole time, too, right?” She brushed his hand aside. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. This happened years ago, and it’s super hazy. I’ve got tons of great people in my life now! The Swords of Justice, Sheilott… I think I’d count Mr. Persian, too. He was super sweet.”

Meowth quietly rolled back over, away from the conversation.

“Well, you all look like a merry bunch.”

Sheilott’s voice echoed up to them from the clearing. She approached her hill carrying a large basket whose strap was wrapped around her arm -- Mathew could see food stacked inside.

More importantly, four others were tailing the dewott.

“Gooood morning!” Keldeo called as he sprinted up to the base of the hill.

Minichino peered around Joey and waved. “Heeeeeey! I was just talking about you guys!”

“Cool.” Sheilott scaled the hill, then started rummaging through the basket. “This is a gift from Vahle to you. You can consider it a pity meal for what happened last night.”

She took a lap around the group, leaving them food spread out on plates and bowls. Mathew was given a steak Sheilott claimed an arcanine cooked with his own flames. Joey got a burger from the same towering dog. Jermy’s sandwich was prepared by a trubbish, who apparently was known as one of Vahle’s best cooks despite looking and smelling like a trash bag. A primeape prepared them two salads; a basic leafy one for Meowth, and a fancier one flavored with berries for Minichino.

“This is totally something I’d make! Cool!” she exclaimed as she grabbed the bowl.

Mathew focused on getting a taste of the steak. The sharp end of the club doubled as his fork and knife, slashing pieces off and stabbing them to pick them up. It was almost perfectly pink and had a delightful taste. “Wow, this is great.” he said between bites.

“Yeah, tell ‘em thanks for us.” Joey’s eyes showed his eagerness to down his own meal.

“Gotta love a good borgar!” Jermy exclaimed, appreciating Joey’s choice of food before eyeing his own. “But today, it’s sondwich time…”

The group continued to eat away as Sheilott walked down her house’s slope and let them be. Mathew was perfectly content to eat in silence, but now that he was still, there was this…weird, dizzy feeling. He promptly distracted himself by looking at the Swords, who were still watching them at the hill’s base. “What about you four? Did you already eat?”

“We’re Legendary Pokémon!” Virizion called. “We don’t need to eat.”

Keldeo stared at them in mouth-watering envy. “It does look super tasty though…” Cobalion put a hoof in front of him, and he snapped his muzzle shut.

“While you down all that…” Terrakion’s concerned demeanor was unimpeded by the introduction of food. “The lot of you seemed pretty moody when we got here. Something wrong?”

Meowth put down his salad bowl to talk. “Minichino was telling us how she became an orphan.”

“Oh, man, that’d do it, huh?” Keldeo nodded in understanding.

“Sorry to bring down the vibe,” Minichino said a little sheepishly. “Maybe I should’ve waited for everyone to be in a better mood?”

“It’s not your fault,” Mathew tried to console. He rose to his feet, holding his club. Steak juice dripped down into the dirt. “The bad news has just been non-stop recently. They’ve killed your parents. They’ve killed Jermy’s sister’s entire rebellion. They’ve taken Mark. They’ve broken us up.” He sighed. “OCEAN is ruthless out there. I don’t even think they’d have buried us if they had won.”

Meowth peered at Mathew strangely. “You guys bury your dead?”

“You don’t?” Mathew asked. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen a graveyard anywhere on Solceus, had he? “What do you do instead?”

“Oh! Obviously, we don’t let it go to waste,” Minichino explained. “When you die, your body gets sent to a plant way far out from towns or cities. Your meat and bones get processed and preserved based on what kind of meal you say you wanna be in your will. Then it’s sent out to a distributors all over the world!”

“This is Solceus’ solution for giving carnivores food without making them hunt living people,” ORB added. “Unfortunately, this means I won’t get to lower Jermy into a casket when he kicks the bucket.”

Joey gagged, then burst into a coughing fit. He looked like he was desperately trying to keep from spewing the burger he just ate all over Sheilott’s roof. “W-We’ve been eating — hack! — dead people…!”

Mathew was perturbed, but not quite as phased. “I mean, the meat on Earth used to come from real animals too.”

Joey gasped, which only made him cough again. “It did?!”

Meowth turned his head away again. “I’m not even going to ask.”

A small shadow cast over the group. Cobalion had climbed the hill towards them as they bickered. “You are not the one who must apologize, Minichino. We had been distantly studying Fascamile ever since you came into our care, but we didn’t realize the threat had grown until you had already fallen into their grasp.” He shut his eyes. “We still don’t understand the full nature of ‘OCEAN’ as you’ve described it. Our lapse in judgment has costed you.”

“Inmmf ymmr defmmnse…” Jermy swallowed. “OCEAN isn’t exactly putting their plans on neon signs. Just their names!”

Cobalion shook his head. “The thought is appreciated, but no amount of pity absolves me of my responsibilities as a Sword of Justice.”

Virizion joined her teammate, looking sympathetically towards Minichino. “It was a mistake on all of our parts.”

Terrakion was next. “If there’s any way we can make it up to you…”

Mathew sat back down and bit into his steak. Although they were in slightly better spirits, it was still hard to have hope for the future. They may be safe in Vahle Village, but the goal was still Mithlline. All of them would have to make a break for it eventually. Even the Swords seemed down.

Keldeo clopped around the other three Swords, approaching from a different angle. “I dunno, it looks pretty obvious to me,” he said, smile unwavering. “If we’re the ones who got them into this mess, then we need to teach them how to handle getting out of it!”

“Handle getting out of it…?” Mathew wasn’t sure what Keldeo meant.

The colt looked to his peers. “We can stay in this village for a couple days, right? The four of us should totally try training them up!”

That seemed to catch the trio off-guard. “Train them?” Terrakion repeated.

Minichino’s eyes were alight with interest. “For real?!”

“Yeah!” Keldeo said. “If Cobalion, Virizion, and Terrakion can bring me up from scratch, then they can help you guys fight better for sure! Then OCEAN won’t be so scary anymore!”

Mathew twirled the steak-topped club in his hands. “That’s very kind of you, but…”

“Dude, don’t tell me you’d pass up a chance to practice with these guys!” Minichino exclaimed, pointing a paw at the older trio. “They never let me join, but I watched them spar a whole bunch when I was little. They’re crazy good.”

“Oh, no, I appreciate the help!” Mathew clarified. “I just…don’t think it’ll help that much.”

“It does sound real nice,” Joey muttered. “I reckon I could use the help.”

Jermy shut his eyes, smiling like an airhead. “There’s bookoos of irony in us getting trained by you guys, but I’m not gonna complain!”

“Sure.” Meowth’s gaze was firmly embedded into the food. “I don’t see why not.”

The bright-eyed Keldeo looked up to his superiors. “So? What do you guys think?”

“Well, I like the sentiment,” Virizion said, nodding, “but keep in mind that we trained you for a hundred years. They don’t even live that long. There’s only so much we can impose on them in a few weeks.”

“We don’t even have that!” Terrakion reminded them. “We can’t give OCEAN time to set up a trap the moment we step outside of Vahle.”

“You guys trained Charles in a year!” Keldeo cried. “And you did it on the go!”

Mathew blinked. Charles?

Keldeo padded up to Cobalion, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” he said softly. “I wanna help them. Just like you guys did.”

Cobalion shut his eyes in contemplation. The wind whistled between the bolt-like horns on his head, rustling his bearded mane. “Very well,” he finally said.

Keldeo gasped, then jumped for joy. “Yes!”

“But remember that we have a time limit beyond OCEAN,” he promptly followed. “We cannot afford to be late for the meeting.”

“The meeting?” Joey asked.

“The Legendary Court has been coordinating a meeting at Fogside Volcano,” Virizion explained. “Leading figures on both sides of the Great Legendary War are expected to be there.”

“Huh.” Jermy seemed to retreat a little, before huffing and pacing around, psyching himself up. “We’ll just have to make do with the time we have! I’m no stranger to crunch, so--wah!”

The pikachu yelped as his leg clashed against metal. He fell forward, rolling down the hill toward the clearing until he splayed out on the ground. A concerned Sheilott peered out of her door.

ORB was unflinching. “That makes twenty-nine.”

As the others checked on him, Mathew looked out toward the hills again. Much of their despair was fleeting. The sting of the night lingered, but there were so many people willing to be their rock. Vahle Village just might be the haven he was hoping for after all. The cubone was thankful for that.

But that didn’t change the stakes. OCEAN had probably chased Politoed’s group as they slept. Mithlline was so far away, and the one machine that could shorten their journey remained unfinished in the Dwelling Bag. And Mark was still out there.

That strange dream lingered in the back of his mind. Just thinking about it made his head spin. How long would this peaceful moment last…?

Chapter 36: The First Step

Chapter 29: The First Step

Evening sunlight bore down on Joey’s exposed scales as the crocodile looked upward at the Giant’s Ridges. Rows of tall cliffs evenly lined the backside of the giant hill marking the west edge of town. The dirt walls were overgrown with leaves and roots. It would be rather ordinary terrain were it not for the fact that they were all perfectly spaced. Each row was roughly three times his height; each was spaced a few dozen feet in front of the next. The one thing that differentiated them was the way they aged. It turned an otherwise smooth, steep hill into a jagged climb, only made easier by a winding trail that weaved around each one.

“Woah, these are kinda weird,” Minichino said. She had stopped to study them, too, pulling her bycocket hat back so she could take it all in.

“Now you understand why we leave this place alone.” Sheilott, their guide for the moment, stepped aside to let the Swords pass her by while she spoke to them. “We catch the excadrill family scoping it out sometimes, but besides them, you should be free to train with no interruptions.”

“And you’re not concerned we’ll ruin your quiet space?” Virizion asked, peering back. She continued marching along, rustling the dead leaves beneath her feet.

The otter shook her head. “I come here for the river more than anything.”

Arbor River was more like a quaint creek. The slow-moving water, so shallow that even their shortest could probably wade through it, flowed so gently that it hardly made a sound. Bushes and trees lined its sides and obscured it from view, but here by the trail, there was an opening where the villagers had cut it all away. Or, considering the sharp shells at Sheilott’s sides, maybe it was the work of just one.

“Either way, we won’t go too hard out here,” Terrakion reassured her. “The training this group needs is nowhere near explosive.”

“I don’t think any of us can even make real explosions,” Mathew said, before glancing at the rodent and the robot, “with some exceptions.”

“Hey, I can’t do that alone!” Jermy countered. “That only half-counts.”

As the others talked, Joey watched as Sheilott approached the edge of the river. Her eyes scanned the water, as if she were hunting for prey.

The moment she found what she was looking for, she shook her head in disappoint. The otter took a step into the water, reached down, and pulled out a long, wet piece of fabric that had caught onto the rocks. When Sheilott held it up by the end, it was clearly a long scarf — perhaps somebody had dropped it upstream, and it flowed down all the way here.

“Does this ever end…?” Clutching the scarf against her chest, she trodded over the shallows, leapt into a dropoff, and paddled away, obscured by the foliage.

Joey remembered hearing that Arbor River fed into Misery Cave. He couldn’t help but think about the nightmarish waste piles that surrounded them as they fought. Had Sheilott not taken the scarf out of the river, perhaps it would have ended up there — just another piece in Solceus’ crisis.

He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. There was no time to worry about Sheilott or that scarf. Right now, all that mattered was making sure he was ready the next time there was a fight like that.

Keldeo looked up at his leader. “Are you sure you want Terrakion and me to sit out on this one?”

“Yes,” he said unflinchingly. “The lesson I’ve prepared requires only one of us.”

“Aw, okay…” The colt’s head sagged as he padded off, blasting up to the cliffs with his jet-hooves.

“Hey! Wait up!” Terrakion exclaimed as he galloped down the trail.

Meowth look skeptically at Cobalion. “So we’re supposed to fight you? Even if we outnumber you, we’re not beating a Legendary Pokémon.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve already considered this.” The stag turned to Virizion. “The sashes?”

Without a word, Virizion dipped her head, tensing herself in concentration. The dead leaves under the trees shook and wavered until they burst to life, flung upward as if carried by a strong wind. Next to him, Mathew gawked in amazement. It wasn’t the first time Joey had seen this display, but she had raised far more leaves this time than what she had managed during her fight. The more focus, the more leaves, he reckoned.

Most of the dead things fluttered in the air, fighting gravity like a human kicking to stay afloat. Virizion studied them, seeming to guide them with the tip of her muzzle. A string of leaves came apart from the crowd, following a path in single file. They came closer together until they almost collided, tips wrapping around stems.

They came down and found a home around the base of Cobalion’s neck, just beneath his mane. A flourish from Virizion made the ends collide and clasp. Just like that, the antelope had created a brown sash out of nothing but dead leaves.

“Woah!” Joey exclaimed. Now he was amazed, too. “Ain’t that the whole caboodle!”

Mathew nodded in agreement, although he expected he had no idea what that word meant. “On Earth, you’d be breaking so many laws of physics right now.”

“Sure would!” Jermy seconded, applauding with his little mouse-hands.

Virizion gave them a wry grin, soaking in the praise. “It’s not exactly an easy trick. Mastering it took decades.”

Cobalion stepped ahead of Virizion, his leaf-sash crinkling with every shift of the neck. “This will be our substitute for a real fight. The rules are simple: if your sash is cut, you are eliminated. With how brittle these leaves are, you need just one clean strike to defeat me.” The stag extended his brilliant blue Sacred Sword, only for it to quickly become not so brilliant and not so blue. The edges of the blade thickened and rounded out, and it lost all color. “I will dull my Sacred Sword as well, to further even the match.”

Huh, Joey found that an interesting way to make it fair. All the five of them needed to do was land one hit? Surely there were strings of the non-leaf variety attached somewhere. “Do we gotta worry about hurting your neck?” he asked, thinking about his teeth clashing with the skin beneath Cobalion’s fur.

“Don’t worry, dude,” Minichino reassured. “Cobalion can take a scratch or two! He wouldn’t be a Legendary Pokémon if he couldn’t.”

“Let’s make sure he doesn’t hurt you.” Virizion directed the dancing leaves awaiting her command.

In quick order, she fashioned leaf-sashes for each of them. They went around the centers of their chests, a bit under their arms. The dead, slightly sharp leaves tickled Joey’s scales, and its magical grip felt so precarious that it wouldn’t last five minutes of travel. Still, he figured this was good enough.

“Ah, sorry,” she mumbled. She had tried to fit ORB with a tiny leaf crown, but his body was so small that it was hard to form a circle small enough. It came undone almost instantly.

“The brown looks nice against the green, but I do not need a sash, as I’m not participating,” the robot said. “Unlike Jermy and his friends, I will learn no lessons from this.”

“No lessons?” Cobalion sounded almost insulted. “All people can learn lessons, provided you open your mind. Will you not join your companions?”

“Bold of you to assume I am a person.”

Both of the Swords stood wide-eyed, stunned by ORB’s remark. Cobalion slowly opened his mouth, then shut it again. Joey wasn’t sure what was so shocking here. He was a robot, after all.

“…I’m just not gonna acknowledge that.” As she backed away to join Terrakion and Keldeo, she gave one last nod to the non-manmade group. “Good luck.”

“You’re free to organize a plan first,” Cobalion planted himself firmly in the grass. “When you approach, we begin.”

Before Joey could blink, Mathew had pulled him into a huddle, along with the rest of the group. The crocodile stared at him in anticipation, expecting a game plan. But the reptile just kept looking left and right, locking eyes with each of them and then turning to the next. He seemed lost for words.

“I swear I came up with a strategy,” he finally whispered, “but for some reason I’m blanking now. Uh, sorry?”

“Well, the plan seems easy to me,” Minichino said. “It’s just like Barbaracle, right?”

“Yeah, kinda like… Right!” Mathew lurched in place as the lightbulb in his brain sprung to life. “I remember now. I think we should come at him from three angles. Me, Meowth, and Minichino come in at the front, Jermy comes in kinda to the left, and Joey kinda to the right.” He nodded to each of them as he said their names. “The three of us will get Cobalion off-balance, and when the right moment strikes, Jermy and Joey can zip in and cut that sash! Once he’s on the ropes, he won’t be able to stop both of them at once.”

Minichino smirked. “Super simple. I like it!”

“It’s about as subtle as the smell of a can of surströmming,” Jermy said with a shrug, “but if it works, it works!”

Mathew balked at the rodent. “What the hell is sir-strawming?”

“Surströmming,” a distant ORB began. “From Wikipedia, the—”

“Not now, ORB,” he snapped, pulling his head out of the huddle.

“Sorry, do the secrets of Swedish cuisine not interest you?” he snarked back.

Joey blotted out the mental image of the Swords looking at them weirdly. “I dunno. Are y’all sure I should be one of the folk getting the hit?”

“It makes sense to me!” Minichino said. “Jermy’s got the speed, and you have the huge jaws.”

“But what about Mathew’s club? Or Meowth’s claws?”

Meowth seemed to shrivel halfway out of the huddle when Joey acknowledged him. “You’d be better at it,” he said quickly.

“My club can break a huge chain, but a tiny guarded sash? That won’t fly here,” Mathew explained. “You’re the best for the job. But if you really don’t want to do it, I’m not gonna push you to…”

Joey shut his eyes. Could they really expect him and Jermy to land that game-deciding hit on Cobalion, even in a game this simple? He reckoned he should at least try. “Nah. I’ll give it a go.”

That was the confirmation everyone needed. With hardly an order, the five of them broke away from one another, slinking into position. Jermy began hobbling towards Cobalion’s left, and Joey towards his right.

Cobalion’s front hoof dug forward into the dirt, leaving a smeared imprint on the ground. “Very well,” was all he said, anticipating them.

Minichino encroached as fast as her tiny body let her, leading with her water-soaked tail. By the time she swung for his neck, he’d already craned his head down, blocking with his grayed Sacred Sword. He managed to shove her away, pushing her into Meowth, just in time to clash with Mathew’s club.

Joey watched, studying for the opening, as Cobalion guarded against them almost effortlessly, flinging his blade left and right to block strike after strike. Tail. Club. Tail. Claw. Club. Tail. He didn’t move from his position at all, and yet the three just never seemed to align in the right way to knock him off-balance.

…No, that ain’t right. The way he seemed to push them apart from one another, bumping them around with his muzzle and neck, couldn’t be an accident. What started as an all-centered approach had become three alternating lanes of attack. Cobalion was in full control of the fight’s rhythm.

The crocodile could see agitation spread on Mathew’s face. This was clearly not how he pictured this plan at all. “Damnit, why can’t we — uff!” What had started as an attempt to re-center himself ended with a collision straight into Meowth’s side, startling both of them.

Cobalion’s hoof lifted off the ground for the first time.

A single low-reaching lunge was all he needed. His head dove lower and lower — then shot upward with a firm swing. Mathew gasped, muzzle knocked skyward.

The bindings on the leaf sash uncurled, falling in a circle around the reptile.

Meowth’s eyes beaded in panic. He jumped away while tossing a sharp energy coin at Cobalion’s sash. The stag shifted, making the coin nick the edge of his neck instead of the leaves. He winced — it was the first time they’d hit his body at all.

Apparently, that wince was signal enough. “Guys!” a panicked Minichino called, ushering them to action.

As the crocodile charged in, he could so clearly see Mathew’s vision. Even with Minichino’s warning, Cobalion couldn’t get out of the way of the electric sphere Jermy lobbed. His hooves dragged, scuffing the grass, and for a moment Joey was sure he would fall over — but he found footing just in time to kick away the nimble rodent. The stag’s head was turned aside, fully exposing the sash to both of the kids.

If only Joey had Jermy’s bursts of superspeed, he could have made it in time for a perfect follow up. But his stumpy little legs could only take him so far, and by time he was close, Cobalion was glaring at him, prepared.

He was just a little out of reach — just like everything else.

Logic dictated he give up on the approach, but Joey angrily threw himself at the stag anyway, jaws unhinged. Thanks to his dodge, it wasn’t the sash the crocodile bit down on — it was the large, orange shoulder blade that guarded the back side of his neck. It wasn’t a vital, but Cobalion could clearly feel it — straining his eyes upward, Joey could just barely see him clench his teeth in pain.

This finally wrested Cobalion from his motionless stance. He shook and pranced, trying to force Joey off. Keeping his teeth sunk into Cobalion was like clinging on to a mechanical bull with the last of his strength. Joey flailed and kicked in substitute of words — do something!

The other three seemed to get the picture. Another coin and electric ball pelted Cobalion, jolting him around and loosening Joey’s grip. Beneath the crocodile, Minichino leapt for his leg, trying to climb up to the sash.

But it wasn’t enough. Joey and Minichino’s weight couldn’t keep the stag from performing a mighty leap, cleaving down on the poor soul in front of him. Based on the unmistakable yelp, Joey guessed it was Jermy. Wind rushed through Joey’s nonexistent ears as Cobalion ran, stabbing at what could only be Meowth.

With his attention undivided, Cobalion gave him and Minichino the harshest buck yet. The crocodile winced as his teeth slipped from the shoulder blade, biting down on his tongue instead. The two were helplessly flung into the air.

Swish.

The dulled Sacred Sword lightly raked against his chest. It was fast, but harmless — more like a hand swiping across his stomach than a sword. But that was more than enough to release the delicate sash from his body. When he crashed into the ground, the spines along his back and tail crushed the leaves. Minichino landed next to him in a similar leafy puddle.

Cobalion had hit five targets in four strikes. The five of them couldn’t hit one target in about thirty.

While Joey groaned and sat up, Minichino jumped to her feet, seeming giddy in spite of the harsh landing. “Dude, that was the coolest way to lose!”

Mathew had courteously stepped away when his sash was cut. Now that the fight was over, he was steadily approaching, a glum look in his eyes. “Damnit. We almost got you, but we just came up short… Do we get a second try at this?”

“Don’t rush yourself.” Cobalion turned toward the reptile. His gray Sacred Sword dissolved from his head, and his battle stance eased. “If you were to try again right away, there’d be nothing to learn. The period after the fight is a time for reflection.”

“I don’t see what there is to reflect on,” Meowth mumbled, retreating under the shade of one of the trees around them. “That was about how I expected this to end.”

“Don’t disparage yourself so easily,” Cobalion advised. “Despite the difference in experience, you came fairly close to striking my sash — I can think of at least four near-misses. Using your numbers to overwhelm me and create an opening was a reasonable, if simple, strategy. Your issue was mostly in execution.” His eyes swept the group, pausing to study Joey and Jermy in particular. “Were any of you able to observe how I defused your attack, beyond a difference in physical strength?”

Joey waited for his friends to answer Cobalion. It was a rather simple question, so he figured somebody could speak for him. But the only noise that came was the rustle of living leaves in the trees around the trail. Even Jermy was passing confused looks to the others.

The crocodile was perturbed. Was he really the only one who noticed?

“You mean how you broke us up more subtly than a needle piercing thread?” he pointed out. “Instead of ganging up on you, we were all playing lone hands.”

Mathew turned to him in surprise. “That was why?”

Cobalion nodded. “Yes, your observation was correct. Each of you were positioned well considering your individual abilities. However, you lacked cohesion. I felt as though I was facing five individual fights at once, rather than a single fight with a coherent force.”

“I think you’re expecting a little bit much from us,” Meowth remarked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I’m with Meowth here,” Jermy said. “You and your rabble have known each other for two hundred years! But for most of us? It’s barely been a week and a half.”

“And let’s be honest,” Mathew added, “none of us are here of our own volition.”

“I do understand this,” Cobalion said. “That is precisely why I chose this initial exercise. In our limited time, I can’t promise to teach you extravagant techniques. But I do want this to be understood: coordination is everything. And to have coordination, you must have trust.” He studied them carefully. “Is there truly no trust among you? Have none of you earned the others’ faith?”

Joey stared at the ground. He racked his brain, looking for anything to answer Cobalion with. The only tether he could think of was their shared dedication to the Pick-it Up Club — but that was all but gone now, tarnished by the loom of OCEAN. There was nothing else that held them together. Maybe the others were right. Their bonds were just too shallow.

“Well.” Jermy looked straight at the crocodile. “We were all hunky-dory with letting Joey take care of the last hit.”

See, even Jermy agreed that — wait, what? Joey blinked. What did that have to do with anything?

“Why not?” Mathew said. “We’ve done this shtick before, and it worked. He’s reliable.”

Only now was the implication sinking in. “Hang on, how the heck did we get here?” Joey protested. “I was just doing what you guys said! It means about as much as a drop in the world’s largest bucket!”

“I dunno, I think they’ve got a point,” Minichino agreed. “You’re the only guy here my age, and you’re pretty cool!” Her tail swished behind her. “I guess we’re all kinda friends with you, huh?”

Meowth nodded, his cold posture giving way to a gentleness when the two locked eyes. “She’s right.”

Joey’s eyes flitted left and right, feeling uncomfortable in their gaze. He was just some kid with amnesia. How could he be the thing keeping them together…?

“So there is a core after all.” Cobalion shut his eyes. “This I can work with.”

Chapter 37: Horse-backed

Chapter 30: Horse-backed

As Joey walked alone down the guarded streets of Vahle Village, enshrouded in long shadows cast by a setting sun, his mind was swirling with uncertainty.

Their second and third attempts to beat Cobalion hadn’t resulted in a win — they were permeated with the same close calls and faults of the first go-around. The stag still praised them for their improvements, at least. Mathew kept their tactics varied, and the near-misses kept getting nearer and nearer. They were cut off after three attempts, however, both because Cobalion intended not to exhaust them and because Virizion seemed tired of reassembling their sashes.

Joey had mentally checked out of the training after that first exercise. He was still thinking about what Cobalion had exposed to them. He understood that he was friends with them all, but was he really the only thing keeping the group from falling apart? Did that mean he had to be the one to fix their lack of cohesion? The stag had dumped a saddle on his back without telling him the weight of the riders.

He hadn’t been able to make sense of it all in the midst of action, so he was glad the group allowed him to have a walk around town before nightfall. The crocodile tried to keep himself occupied by memorizing the village’s layout. That path led back to the Giant’s Ridges, this one winded over to the mayor and Sheilott, the one over there to a shady-looking store…

The townsfolk certainly helped him in his effort to clear the mind. Most of the people he passed by waved or said hello, recognizing him as one of the strange pokémon the Swords had brought in. A curious pink deer and a shaggy-furred ape even asked if he was alright, noticing his fatigue. Despite its size and bustle, Kalmwa’er felt so much quieter — he never got this kind of care from strangers.

Of course, Joey wasn’t the only one at the center of Vahle’s attention.

“Heheh, hey! Sorry, coming through!”

It was Keldeo, clopping along down the same paths and greeting the same folk. From his brisk pace, Joey could only assume he was trying to catch up with him. “Hey, Keldeo,” he greeted, turning around. “Are you wrangling me back to Sheilott’s?”

“Nope!” He came up to his side, then slowed down, ushering Joey to follow. “I thought I’d hang out with you for a bit.”

Joey was a little confused. Keldeo wanted to hang out with him, one-on-one? He at least welcomed the company, but it felt weird. “Well, alright,” he said awkwardly as he whirled back around and continued.

Keldeo looked at him with an eager smile as he mimicked Joey’s pace. “Soooooo, what’d you think about training with Cobalion?”

Joey tilted his head back. “It was okay. I reckon you saw how we got our butts kicked harder than a boot with a spur in front, though.”

“Oh yeah. My eyes were glued to you guys the whole time!” Keldeo bobbed as he walked, hardly containing his excitement. “Don’t worry, losing to Cobalion is totally normal. When he trained me, he wouldn’t give me a pity win no matter how close I was! If I got angry, he’d say something like…” He stiffened his posture and dropped his voice to sound fakely mature. “‘Keldeo, real combat is cruel and lawless. You must be prepared to see through the fights you start — victory is earned, not given.’”

“And I reckon that only made you more mad?” he said.

“Yeah! But he was right, so I can’t hold it against him too much.” The colt remained upbeat until he took another look at Joey. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

Joey blinked in surprise. “Hah? What makes you think I ain’t?”

“You just look kinda down. You haven’t wiped the frown off your face since I caught up with you.”

That only contorted Joey’s resting frown into a teeth-bearing grimace. Was his mood really that obvious? “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Hey, that’s nothing to apologize for!” He leapt in front of Joey, stopping their walk. “I just wanna make sure my friends’ training isn’t giving you a hard time.”

Keldeo’s expression was anything but harsh, but Joey couldn’t help but look away, futilely searching the hills for something more important than him. He’d only just met this mini-god last night — was he really supposed to dump his problems onto him? Then again, he was probably one of the most qualified folk to give life advice in all of Solceus, considering how much more life the colt had lived compared to him.

“It’s not Cobalion,” he slowly admitted, “that’s got me frazzled. After that first fight, he started talking about trusting each other, and we all kinda realized that I’m the only one who’s got everyone’s.”

Keldeo nodded along in a way that seemed more sincere than Joey expected. “You’re only a teen, right? It sounds like you’re getting a lot of responsibility for that age.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Although the path was shaded, Joey could almost feel the light Keldeo was beginning to shine on him. “I never realized just how…important I was, I guess. Am I making a lick of sense?”

“At least a couple licks.” Keldeo turned and kept moving, leading him along. “You know, the Swords of Justice haven’t always been together.”

Joey hurried to keep pace with the colt. “They haven’t?”

“The ‘original’ Swords only lasted two years — Cobalion, Virizion, and Terrakion were only there to get a job done. After that, they did their own things for almost sixty years.” He shut his eyes. “Then I was born. And when Terrakion decided I was his problem, the three of them got back together just to train me.”

Now Joey was getting it. “So you’re the youngest…and the thing keeping your friends together.”

“Yep! So trust me, I’ve been where you are before.”

The crocodile eyed the pathways ahead as he processed what he was saying. It was strange being able to relate to somebody who was more than a century older than him. There must’ve been so much more time to bicker. “Do y’all fight a lot?”

“Oh, we used to! Cobalion and Virizion especially. Man, they had some nasty nights back then…” He grit his teeth as he reflected, but then the memory passed, and he softened. “But over the years, we worked it out. They were all there to train me, but I think we’ve all grown up a lot.”

“Grown up, huh.” Joey slowly nodded. “I wish the lot of us could do some of that.”

“Well, you guys have a shared goal, just like us, right? Even if it’s just to get away from OCEAN. That’s as good a reason as any to smooth some rough edges!” Keldeo beamed at him. “It’ll get better. I promise.”

The crocodile wasn’t sure what to make of the advice. Fresh off the heels of Kalmwa’er, everything felt entangled in this mess of conflict and secrecy. It was just like Mathew said earlier — their group was held together with rope and glue. Was there really any hope that things could change?

He appreciated that Keldeo seemed to think so, at least. “Thanks, pardner — the pick-me-up’s been real nice.”

“Hey, this kind of thing is my whole job!” He paused to pose coolly, nose poised to the sky. “When I’m not kicking butt, that is.”

Joey couldn’t help but laugh along with Keldeo. The crocodile was starting to realize how much he enjoyed the company — but that just made him question the moment more.

“You know, you keep hanging around me like a fly by a lighthouse,” he pointed out. “Why’s that?”

“Huh? Oh!” Keldeo seemed genuinely surprised by the question — and a little embarrassed? “Well, it’s kind of a silly reason, now that I think about it.”

Silly? “It ain’t because of the way I talk, is it?”

“Nope! It’s because of…” Keldeo jumped at Joey so quickly that he couldn’t react. He reached up — and snatched the crocodile’s hat, grabbing it with his mouth. “Thmmphs!”

“Wha — hey! Be careful with that!” Joey grabbed the un-bitten side of the brim, prompting the colt to let go. “If you wanna try my hat on, you can just ask.” Joey turned it around and threaded Keldeo’s snout through the strap. He struggled to fit it on — with his huge mane of red hair, there was barely any room for it.

“No, no, no!” He laughed as he shook his head, wresting himself free of the hat. “I wasn’t thinking about wearing it. I just think it’s super cool!” The colt stared at the green rim, mesmerized. “Like…what even is it?”

“You remember last night, right?” He turned the hat over, showing the interior. “That fiery guy, Mark, gave it to me back on Earth.”

“Oooooh. That’s neat!” Keldeo said. “But I actually was asking about the kind of hat it is. I’ve never seen one like that before.”

“Hah? Y’all don’t have these normally?” But when Joey thought about it for a moment, he second-guessed himself. “Actually, I guess that makes sense. It’s ain’t like there are cowboys on Solceus…”

Joey couldn’t have been prepared for how Keldeo reacted. He made a loud, air-sucking gasp and stepped back in amazement. It was as if the crocodile had just given him the answers to the universe.

“That’s what cowboy hats look like?!”

He stood there, dumbfounded. Keldeo knew what a cowboy was? “Uh… Yeah,” he breathed, lacking any better words.

Before Joey could even blink, Keldeo was diving under him, his red mane getting all up in the crocodile’s face. Joey yelped and fell as he rose again, belly sprawled against Keldeo’s back and maw nearly touching his swishy blue tail.

“Sorry, Joey, but this walk’s over! We gotta find some wood right now, before the sun sets!” He broke into a sprint. “I’m gonna make Terrakion proud!”

“Woah, woah, hey!” Joey bumped and bounded against the second rough ride from a Sword of Justice he’d received today. The colt hadn’t even given him time to put his hat back on.

“Of all the skills in the world, I’d have never guessed you were a wood-cutter.”

The evening crawled later and later as Keldeo worked in silence on his craft. A kind townsperson had directed the frantic colt down the river, where Vahle Village grew and cut its trees. Keldeo barely made time for Joey to readjust before he galloped east, following the river. In just minutes, they had found Keldeo’s new canvas: a long, perfectly round stump where a tree once stood.

Now Keldeo was thoroughly immersed in his work. With careful precision, his Sacred Sword carefully shaved the wood. White chips and log fragments littered the grass surrounding the stump. He’d been at this for what felt like half an hour.

It wasn’t until Keldeo stopped carving that he spoke again. “Before we even knew I was a Legendary Pokémon, Terrakion taught me how. He was a woodworker back then, you know?” While he spoke, he slowly revolved around the cut-down stump, examining his handiwork. “Ever since I started training to become a Sword of Justice, it’s gotten really hard to find time to practice. But there’s something I’ve always wanted to do…”

Finally, Keldeo stepped back, sounding satisfied. “And now, I’ve done it!” He stretched downward like a dog and lifted his front hooves. Water streamed from them, gently washing the woodchips around the stump away.

Joey stood up as the water and wood trickled past him into the river. “You’re all finished?”

“Sure am! I present to you…” He propped up onto his hind legs and made a sweeping motion with his front hooves. “A real cowboy!”

The crocodile squinted as he studied Keldeo’s handiwork. Extending from the base of the stump were a pair of nubby, toeless legs, upholding a lithe humanoid body. Slightly shaped wooden arms extended outward, elbows defined by a ninety-degree bend. The hands were clearly abstracted, reduced to just an oval with five cuts made to define the gaps in the fists. Atop the shoulders was a weirdly shaped head, crowned with an almost perfect miniature recreation of Joey’s hat in wood form.

“This is based on everything I’ve heard about them!” Keldeo explained. “How did I do?”

“Well, it’s close,” Joey said, “but this looks about as human as a kid in a funhouse mirror.”

“Whaaaat?! No way it’s that bad!”

“Yes way.” As the totodile got closer, he could make out even more faults. Rather than a flat face, the bottom half jutted out like a muzzle, with tiny, slanted nostrils just above the mouth. “First, this ain’t a human nose. It’s supposed to be in a triangle shape, like this.” With his hands, he drew out the half-pyramid shape in the air.

“Wait, you mean like a nosepass?!” Keldeo exclaimed.

“I dunno what that is.” As his vision glided downward, he realized even greater inconsistencies. “Why did you give it gills?” he asked, gesturing to the stripes of gill-like cuts made in its chest. Then he thought to peer around to its backside. “And—and a tail?!”

“They’re supposed to look just like a machop!” he whined.

“I dunno what that is!” Joey cried. “But you’d be fobbing me off to call it a human!”

Keldeo gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine! I guess it’s just a machop wearing a cowboy hat.”

Joey stepped back and gave it another evaluation. Even if it wasn’t human, he had to admit the craftsmanship was far finer than he would probably ever manage. If he stumbled into this carving at night, he reckoned he might mistake it for a real pokémon standing on a stump. “Well, it’s probably a real good machop. Next time, I’ll just give you a photo of a human so you don’t have to do any guesswork.”

“Heheh, alright.” Keldeo plopped his rear down next to Joey. From a sitting position, they were almost the same height — not counting hats or gigantic manes. “It’s probably a good thing that it’s not a human anyway. Terrakion says I’m apparently not supposed to work on the carving I wanna do the most.” He took a deep breath. “‘Keldeo, you gotta warm up first! Otherwise you’re gonna mess your masterpiece up!’” The haughty, gruff tone was clearly an imitation of Terrakion.

Now Joey’s initial confusion was back on his mind. Keldeo had offered him a contradiction — cowboys were unknown on Solceus, and yet he seemed to talk like he knew all about them. “Where the heck did you find out about cowboys, anyway?”

“Oh, the other Swords have told me all about them.” Keldeo looked up at his own creation, the twilight sun putting a glint in his gaze. “They’re super cool. They live in these sprawling empty deserts called the ‘old west’, and take care of pokémon, reigning in bad guys with a big, tied-up piece of rope called a lasso. They live in small towns and drink together in these places called saloons!” When he turned back to Joey, he seemed a little bashful. “I don’t have that part wrong, right…?”

Joey nodded his head in approval. It was a clear, if simple and overly ideal description of the basic elements of cowboy culture. “At least somebody told you right enough.”

“Hmm… For you to know that…” He leaned in really close, humming all the while. “Big question time. Are you a cowboy?”

“Naw! Cowboys ain’t really a thing anymore — people just write movies and books about ‘em.” He flicked his hat. “But I like them too.”

“Aw, man.” Keldeo splayed out on the ground, bummed out by the news. “I was kinda wishing I could try being a cowboy someday,” he mumbled. “Actually, scratch that — a sheriff cowboy.”

Joey sat down to keep to his level. “Why a sheriff?”

“Cobalion, Virizion, Terrakion and I are always on move. And I like that, don’t get me wrong!” he shifted his head off the ground a bit as he clarified, then dropped again. “But I wanna know what it’s like to take care of just one little place. A single street in the middle of nowhere, with nobody to rely on but yourself — and the only thing standing between order and chaos is your sense of right and wrong…”

As Keldeo carved a picture with his words, Joey’s eyes were guided to the picture he carved with his blade. Only with the colt’s words could he really understand the significance of his work. Earth culture should be so alien to another world’s god, and yet it resonated with Keldeo in ways Joey could have never expected.

Your sense of right and wrong. It only made sense that would align with somebody who calls himself a “Sword of Justice”. In Joey’s mind, that was what the best cowboys did.

…Something occurred to him, just then. His memories of the past week replayed through his mind.

The anger he felt when Mathew failed to tell him the truth in exchange for his help finding the backpack. The wariness when Minichino, Politoed, and Breloom pried his secrets out of him. The stubborn refusal to take Meowth at face value, even when everyone told him he was wrong to. The sense of disgust and guilt he felt carrying out OCEAN’s dirty deeds.

Joey couldn’t picture himself as the center of his friend group because he had nothing to contribute. Everyone else he had met, younger or older, seemed so much smarter and so much stronger. What was it that made the others trust in him so much?

Those feelings were exactly why.

“Yeah.” Joey locked eyes with the cowboy machop. “It’d be cool to become a sheriff, I bet.”

---

Joey wasn’t sure what hour of the night it was when he first turned over and noticed Mathew wasn’t in his nest.

Night had encroached upon them fast. He and Keldeo were hardly out there for another ten minutes before Terrakion came running for them, chastising Keldeo for delaying in bringing Joey back. (He bashfully admitted, “Yeah, I might’ve fudged the reason I was out here. Sorry!”) Fortunately, the bovine’s anger was instantly quenched by the sight of Keldeo’s project. By the they returned to Sheilott’s home, he was still praising the colt, giving him pointers for next time.

Sleep should’ve come shortly after his arrival. After all, the five of them still urgently needed to make up for the lost hours from the night in Bylaide Forest. But Joey just couldn’t seem to drift off. He finally understood the reason for his place among his friends, but now he wasn’t sure what to do about it. That uncertainty fueled the racing in his mind like gasoline in a racecar. He kept kicking himself for his inability to clear his brain — at least, until he noticed the absence.

Joey wasn’t sure how much time had ticked away. Sheilott kept no clocks in the room she’d stuffed them all in, so the passage of night was his only guide.

He listened to the footsteps of each pokémon outside as they walked by Sheilott’s front door. Pit, pit, pit, pit, pit. Each one faded in from one direction, passed the door, and faded out towards the other. None of them were Mathew, returning to his nest.

It eventually felt long enough that it was time for Joey to decide he had to investigate. He considered waking everyone up and getting the Swords to help search, but he’d already been a nuisance once tonight, so the thought of him ruining the whole group’s sleep made him extra guilty. Plus, perhaps too optimistically, he assumed Mathew was probably fine.

Joey slowly rose from his nest, careful not to rustle it. He tiptoed around a snoring Jermy, a curled up Meowth, a splayed out Minichino, and a powered down ORB. The only sound he feared could wake them was the creak of the door as he pulled it open — but as he gently shut it from the other side, he felt confident he had escaped the minefield.

Searching Vahle Village in the night was an awkward ordeal. Whenever he locked eyes with a resident on a late-night duty, an insomniac on a walk, or a literal night owl, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of guilt. Could they tell that he wasn’t supposed to be out here? That question gnawing on the back of his mind like a dog with a chew toy made him hasten his walk and hug his arms against his side and chest.

Fortunately, there were only so many places in Vahle Village Mathew could be. A short walk to the Giant’s Ridges was all it took for Joey to come upon the missing reptile. He was sitting right on the edge of the riverbank, head drooped as if it was weighed down by an anchor.

Splash. Mitt-like hands flicked water up out of the shallow stream, up towards his face. Joey could hear him sigh in relief.

“Uh, Mathew?”

Mathew yelped and lurched in place, whirling his head toward Joey with panicked eyes. Clutched tightly in his hand was…the eye hole of his mask.

Joey gasped and tilted his head, trying to block his view with his own maw. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to…!” He wasn’t really sure why he was looking away — he just had a weird feeling that he wasn’t supposed to see under that mask.

The reptile let out an exasperated heave. “You’re fine. But man, you scared the shit out of me,” he mumbled as he fitted it back on his head.

“I was worried.” Joey slowly approached Mathew. “You know the Swords would get mad as a hornet if they saw you or me out here.”

“I know.” The reptile looked back toward the river. “I just needed a splash of water in my face. And a drink, really.”

Joey came up so close to the bank that the water tickled his toes. “I guess you can’t sleep either?”

Mathew rubbed the front of his mask with a hand. “No. My head still hurts from last night, I think.”

He hummed, resting his tail against the dirt. “I bet it’s been racing all day. I know mine has…”

Mathew sat with him, and for a moment, the two took in the night. Vahle Village was so quiet that the faint trickle of Arbor River was the only noise outside of themselves. Compared to an Earth night, it was disturbingly silent. There were no crickets filling the air, no highway roaring in the distance — every sound Joey knew the night should have was missing.

Kalmwa’er was always filled with artificial light — ‘light pollution’, he thought was called. Much like home, they couldn’t see the stars in a place like that. Now that they were so far away, more stars dotted the sky above. Joey had taken notice the previous night, but walking for hours without breaks left no room for him to admire them until now. On reflex, he craned his neck, looking for the big dipper. It took him a little longer than it should’ve to realize he wouldn’t find any familiar constellations in a foreign sky.

Mathew’s eyes stayed fixed ahead. He could only see the stars through their rippling, warbled reflection on the river’s surface.

“It’s weird how calm today’s been.”

It took a second for Joey to process Mathew’s mumble. “Hah?”

“I mean, nobody really demanded anything of us today,” he clarified more loudly. “The Swords asked us to get in a training exercise with them, but it’s not like there were any stakes. Otherwise we just…slept in, and ate, and talked. It doesn’t even feel like OCEAN’s around right now.”

“I guess we earned it, after yesterday,” Joey said. “We’ve been running full speed for a whole day. We didn’t even finish that talk we had.”

“No, we didn’t.” Mathew nodded. “I know we haven’t have much time to process everything, but… Have you thought about the offer?”

Mathew had put so much forward on Joey that he wasn’t fully sure what he meant. “Which one?”

“That we go our separate ways, after we get to safety.” He turned to face him directly, kicking the water with his foot as he shifted. “I really think it’s best for the both of us.”

Right. Now Joey remembered. He had put a pin in the conversation just as he brought it up because he lacked an answer. It was true that Mathew had caused him anguish with his secrecy and his willingness to follow OCEAN’s plans. The two had been at-odds with one another each day since they’d arrived.

Was it really so bad that they needed to stop speaking to one another?

He thought back to their earliest days in Kalmwa’er. Watching Mathew and Politoed share a sing-off, playing that trash game on the beach, training and fighting as a pair… Joey could still feel the happiness and thrill he felt when they worked together. And it wasn’t like Mathew didn’t care about him either. Even at his angriest, he had never tried to hurt him.

Joey had always attributed his frustration with Mathew to how he deprived Joey of his memories. But, thinking on it, there was more to it than that. What he did created an imbalance between them — Mathew kept all the burdens, and Joey kept none. Mathew may have been trying to protect both of them, but all he did was make things harder on both of them.

It was unfair. It was unjust.

That wasn’t something solved by running away. Joey had to make it right.

When Joey met Mathew’s gaze, there was a newfound fierceness in his eyes. It was the same kind of passion he felt when he realized he needed to protect Meowth. His conscience had made its decision. “Mathew, I’m not leaving you.”

The reptile opened his mouth, then paused. He seemed taken aback, entirely unprepared for that answer. “What?”

“Mathew, I know I’ve gotten real mad at you before. But I don’t hate you. I’m just sad, because I know things can be better. Like it or not, we’re a part of each other’s lives — and Mark’s life, too.” His tensed fingers dug into the dirt. “We can’t give up! If you help me figure out my past, and I help keep you on the straight and narrow, then…!”

“Oh, Joey, no!” Mathew reached out and rested his hand on Joey’s arm. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Why not?” Joey asked, exasperated. He brushed Mathew’s arm aside.

He shut his eyes and turned away. “I don’t know what it takes to improve myself. Still, I refuse to shoulder the responsibility of ‘fixing me’ onto anybody else — much less you.”

“I ain’t trying to fix you! I know I’m not a therapist like Meowth. I can’t pick people’s brains!” Only when Joey paused to catch a breath did he realize he had leaned in toward Mathew. He tried to slouch and calm down a little. “I just…want to help, as a friend. To support you when things get tough. Can you at least give me that?”

The question hung in the cool air like a dancing leaf. Mathew couldn’t meet Joey’s enthusiasm. The stars’ reflection, in all of its shimmer, kept pulling the reptile’s head downward. He reached for his club and dipped it into the water, watching how it disturbed the image.

“Sometimes, I hate how mature you are for your age.”

Chapter 38: Dependencies

Chapter 31: Dependencies

Everywhere Jermy went, storms seemed to haunt him.

On the cool autumn nights of his youth, he and Jane would stare out the window of their quaint home, watching a blanket of clouds smother the sky. Eventually, flakes would fall from above, and the harsh winter season would begin, painting the mountains white and dotting them with daredevils.

Each year, Jane would bring her friend group up the mountainside to make their stake. They’d sneak away from the paths laid out by the ski resort, hunting for thrills hidden in the snow-coated woods. Jane’s favorite jump was far from safety — she called it the Cactus, because the path was lined with trees that threatened to prickle her with their endless bristles. She could weave around them effortlessly, earning her a chance to seize airtime like a bird in flight.

Jermy always came along, of course, but it was understood that he was there to get help if something went wrong. It didn’t matter how many times they teased him. Whenever he stood at the edge of that slope, his breath would hitch and his heart would pound, and he was forced to retreat. He couldn’t touch the Cactus.

It wouldn’t take long for the passing years to make those icy memories feel foreign. The sun blazed harder. The snow fell lighter and vanished faster. Overcast skies became harbingers of vicious rainstorms.

Jermy’s new job didn’t bring him far from home, but what he saw outside of Emmons Labs’ wasn’t the New Hampshire he knew. David seemed to think the same — he’d wistfully recount childhood stories of white Christmases, staring out the window with a longing gaze. The rain was a grim reminder of their doomed battle against a changing Earth.

Now the signifiers of a storm had become his enemy. OCEAN preferred to wield Solceus’ sky as a weapon over allowing it to suffer Earth’s fate. Like their night in Bylaide Forest, any passing clouds could mean Dit was nearby.

That’s why Jermy spent the blocked sunrise sitting atop Sheilott’s home. Just as he did in a time long past, he squinted at the moving gray.

His only company up here was his own creation. “Jermy,” ORB said, “you’ve been staring at the sky for forty five minutes and twelve seconds. I’d like to remind you that scanning the area with your eyes is on average less effective than my aura scanners.”

The pikachu sighed. “I know, ORB.” Jermy dug around in his mind searching for a justification and came up short. He’d been the first to awake, saw the clouds, and felt compelled to serve as the house’s guard mouse for the early morning. It was silly, now that he thought about it. He should just give up on it and start his day.

Jermy had been so focused on his self-assigned duties, he hadn’t noticed that the flat space where Mayor Torterra slept was now abuzz with activity — at least, as much activity as the sleepy Vahle Village could muster. Some paces ahead, Mathew and Joey were surrounded by a tiny crowd, no more than a dozen large. Sheilott and the mayor himself were there, and Jermy could pick out a few familiar townsfolk, too.

But the most prominent attendee was certainly Silvahle. He was identical to any of his silvally siblings, outside of the green head crest and tail that gave away his grass typing. If he wasn’t crouched down, giving the two humans his full attention, he’d probably be able to peer right over these hills.

“Well that’s far-out,” he mumbled. “I wonder what they’re here for?”

“They’re actually pretty close,” ORB said. “Maybe you’d be able to gauge it better if you hadn’t stared at the sun for almost an hour.”

“Oh, quit it, you!” Jermy began scaling down the hill before his robot could catch him on any more technicalities.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to figure out who he should ask about the gathering. The Swords and Minichino were all grouped up right by Sheilott’s door. The three elder Swords were watching Mathew and Joey’s audience from a distance, while Keldeo and the mini-priest were facing away, crowding around some small thing he couldn’t get a good look at.

Virizion was the first to notice his descent. “Welcome back,” she said with her usual smooth tone. “We were wondering when you’d come down.”

“Oh, you were? Well, heh…” Jermy rubbed the back of his head. He felt obligated to explain what he was doing, but under Virizion’s gaze, suddenly he felt too bashful to admit it. Instead, he just pivoted to question the obvious. “What’s going on over there?”

“Silvahle wanted the story of how the lot of you ended up here,” Terrakion explained. “Mathew and Joey took up the job of explaining it.”

“What about all the other guys?”

“They’re curious civilians,” Virizion said. “We’re kind of the talk of the town right now.” She tilted her head toward one of the people in the crowd. “See that squawkabilly? Earlier, he carried in a small TV and told us we could use it for the rest of our stay. He said he was worried about us getting bored in a village like this.”

“Wait, a TV?!” Jermy whipped his head around, looking for the digital commodity, only to realize the obvious. Of course — the TV was what was distracting Keldeo and Minichino. When he got on his tiptoes, he could see the aged, blocky thing projecting bright colors, just a hair shorter than the chinchilla herself. “Wow, that’s super charitable.”

“Shhh!” Guys, you’re talking over the documentary!” Keldeo’s low-voiced reprimand was aimed only at his fellow Swords. He didn’t have a sway in the meeting’s volume. “Minichino’s gonna miss something!”

A documentary? Jermy padded closer to the pair, peeking over Minichino’s bycocket hat to get a look at the line-laden screen. A blue sky was contrasted with a dramatic red as an avian-like creature streaked through the air.

“Yveltal’s position in the Legendary Court remains a strange one,” A gruff voiceover claimed. “The Court claims its purpose is to support us, and yet Yveltal’s role stands directly against it. He is driven to chastise those who hold the most rational fear of any living being — the fear of death.”

Keldeo leaned over and whispered shrilly into Minichino’s large ear. “You know, Yveltal isn’t actually that mean toward people who fear death. He talks about the cycle of life a lot, but if you meet with his priests, they’ll tell you he thinks being scared is natural.”

“Woooah,” Minichino said. “Hey, isn’t Yveltal, like, super choosy? I’ve never seen any priests for him.”

“Oh yeah. He only ever keeps one or two at a time, and they’re way more of the book-writing types than the meet-and-greets.”

“That’s crazy! Dude, we gotta go meet that guy sometime. I bet they’re super… Uh, Jermy?”

Almost without thinking, Jermy had walked right between the pair. He got down on all fours and leaned in toward the TV. He needed a very close look to compare, but when he took a moment to rack his brain… Yes, he was sure.

“I’ve seen this one before,” he said. “Xerneas, Yveltal, and Solceus’ Secret, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it!” Keldeo exclaimed. He leaned in next to him with a strangely smug look. “But how many times have you seen it?”

Jermy leaned back and tilted his head up, trying to count. “Gee, it was probably like a dozen times…”

“Sixteen,” ORB corrected as he wheeled beside them.

Minichino’s tiny little jaw dropped in shock. “Sixteen?!” she repeated. “Dude, do you hate yourself?!”

Keldeo’s smugness was wiped straight off his muzzle, replaced with an alarmed awe. “Man, and I was proud that I lasted through three whole watches. You realize these shows are always total gossip, right?”

“I know that now!” Jermy told them. “When we first got here, David and I didn’t have a lot to go on. We couldn’t exactly bumble around asking for people to explain the Court to us.” He stood up, gesturing at the TV. “So, us scientists…we binged docuseries like this. We’d set up a half dozen TVs, watch each show a couple times each, and pen down notes. By the time we realized how trustable these were, we’d already wasted days.”

“Wow.” Minichino’s surprise faded easily into amazement. “Even if you got fooled, that’s crazy dedication!”

“What kinda notes did you guys take?” Keldeo asked, nose almost bumping Jermy’s side. “Oh, I know! I bet you were trying to figure out a formula that makes you look as cool as a Legendary Pokémon!”

Jermy took a breath to explain — and it hitched. The two looked at him in concern, but the moment their eyes returned to the screen, both of their smiles faded too.

“Next: Innocent flowers with a not-so-innocent past. Just how did the Gracidea become known as a symbol of gratitude? The answer lies in the flower’s biggest fan…”

Right there, in the center of a beautiful field, he stood behind the screen. The hedgehog-like pokémon’s white fur-wings spread wide from the sides of his head. Red petals decorated his neck in the visage of a scarf. Piercing green eyes punctuated his pale fur as he stared into the camera.

That was Shaymin.

Jermy took a step back, then another. Minichino and Keldeo’s wide eyes kept flitting between him and the TV. Suddenly, standing in front of them felt unbearable. The wound hastily closed two nights ago had reopened.

“I need a minute.” That was all he could get out of his mouth before he pulled away from the two.

“Wait, hang on!” Minichino exclaimed, halfway towards chasing after him. “You didn’t say — Ow!”

ORB stopped her on Jermy’s behalf, pinching her paw. “Let him stew.” He trailed the pikachu’s tracks in the grass, leaving the confused chinchilla behind.

As Jermy walked, he passed behind the Swords. Virizion and Terrakion were too focused on the meeting to pay him any mind — but Jermy could feel Cobalion’s gaze bearing down on his back. He could only soak in the disappointment like a sponge.

Jermy didn’t get very far. As soon as he was out of the Swords’ view, he plopped himself down at the base of one of the home-hills. Fierce emotions stewed in his chest like the cauldron of a witch’s brew. Frustration. Despair. Fear. Shame. They melded together into an immobilizing concoction.

The only thing that could break Jermy out of his frozen stupor was the nudging of ORB’s claw against his side. At the pace of a snail, he grabbed the robot and put him in his lap. Hugging steel wasn’t comfortable, but it was familiar. “ORB…what do you think of me?”

“Jermy, if you shook an eight-ball asking that same question, it would say ‘Better not tell you now’ and then roll away to the other side of Solceus.”

That was enough to prompt a half-hearted snicker. ORB was on-point with his snappiness, just as he programmed. It was easier to take when it was just a machine. His jabs always felt superficial compared to the silent judgment of real people.

When the rodent finally mustered the courage to snap back against David and Dit, he had convinced himself that he had broken free from the subservience that had controlled his life for so many years. Now he could see that it was just a fleeting gasp of something he didn’t possess. Jermy crumbled in the face of the slightest scrutiny — the most that Kalmwa’er’s interrogators and the Swords could get out of him were hurried, half-baked descriptions that were only detailed enough to get him out of the limelight. He couldn’t even look a prerecorded image of Shaymin in the eye.

There wasn’t even his rebellion against OCEAN to fall back on. Somebody else had planted that idea for him. Jermy was still getting dragged around, even if the hands that gripped him were new.

Nothing had changed.

“See y’all later!”

“We appreciate you stopping by!”

The sound of Mathew and Joey’s voices snapped Jermy back to attention. To his side, he could see the crowd dispersing back onto the streets. The recap seemed to be finished, and Jermy’s former recruits were waving them off as a cute courtesy.

Please don’t notice me over here—

Mathew glanced his way.

Gah, corn nuts.

With a huff, Jermy set ORB aside and leapt to his feet. Now that the stragglers were all gone, Mathew and Joey were heading right towards him. Stew time was over.

“Mor—” Mathew coughed, trying to clear his dry throat. “Morning, Jermy.”

“Hey!” Jermy waved at the two, but he was so close up it felt forced and a bit silly. He shoved his arm back to his side. “The mayor really ran you guys ragged, huh?”

Another cough seemed to do the trick. “Yeah, sorry. They made me explain everything for almost half an hour straight. I need to get some water…”

Joey tapped his foot, seeming unimpressed by that account. “Naw, they didn’t make you talk as much as you did. I was trying to take over for you, but you kept butting in with all those skits!”

“Hey, the little details were important!” Mathew exclaimed. “I guess I’m just not used to tuckering out so fast — I’ve done choreographed lectures in full suit longer than that. I guess Silvahle’s gonna have to settle for my…” He shrugged dramatically. “Silver grade performance.”

Joey groaned in anguish, tugging his hat over his eyes.

“I’m putting this pun on your permanent record,” ORB said bluntly.

Jermy nodded, approving ORB’s judgment. “You’ve been sitting on that since Kalmwa’er, haven’t you?”

The cubone only dignified the question with a laugh. “Well, anyway, it’s too bad you weren’t there to back us up. Doing an impression of you was harder than anyone else.”

“Yeah, you slipped away like a snail in the squeeze this morning,” Joey said. “By the time I woke up, you were already gone! Where’d you mosey off to?”

“Oh, uh, nowhere, really.” Jermy winced at his own words. It was correct, but they’d keep prodding if that was his only answer. “I just needed a bit of time away. Still do, kinda. We’re all pancaked on top each other in that house, you know?”

Mathew seemed to get the memo. “That makes sense. We’ll leave you to—”

Unfortunately, Joey wasn’t nearly as satisfied by that answer. He stepped in front of Mathew with an inquisitive expression. “Are you sure that’s the whole caboodle? I ain’t used to seeing you so mopey.”

Jermy reflexively flicked his ears and tail. Did his body language betray his voice that much? It really had been a while since he was under OCEAN’s watchful eye — usually he was better about switching tones. “Really, it’s not that important.”

“If it’s got you feeling down, then it’s right as important as the sun rising in the morning!”

His frustrated insistence took Jermy by surprise. The pikachu stepped back and almost fell onto the slope of the hill behind him. With a yelp, he wobbled and barely rescued his balance.

Mathew reached up and pressed his hand into the totodile’s shoulder. “Joey, please.”

A flash of panic passed through Joey’s face, then remorse. “Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Jermy said. He’d rather the moment just pass through, and they move on.

Joey continued anyway. “You’ve basically been our big bug since we got here, but I feel like I barely know a thing about you.” He eyed Mathew as well. “I see you two talk way more often, so… I guess I’m just mad I ain’t in the loop.”

“Congratulations, Joey,” ORB said. “You’re the first person in history to be jealous over Jermy.”

“Jealous?!” Joey gawked at the robot for a second, but seemed to warm up the prospect. “I guess if you put it that way…”

“I mean, I’m just not a chatty guy,” Jermy admitted. “Mathew hears more because I ‘knew’ him, but—”

“No, you don’t.”

Jermy peered around Joey to meet Mathew’s firm gaze. Great, now he had poked his sour spot too! “N-Not like that!” he cried in his defense. “I meant it in a parasocial way!”

“Parasocial?” Mathew grilled him, pushing himself past Joey. The two had almost entirely backed him up against the hill. “What do you mean?”

“He’s using the word incorrectly,” ORB said.

“Fanboy! Idol! Freako! Whatever it means that I watched your — gahhhh!” He couldn’t stand being suffocated between the two anymore. Jermy crumpled into a sitting position with his head buried in his hands. He was giving up on this conversation.

Both Mathew and Joey finally stepped away. While his eyes were fixed on the ground, Jermy could feel their perturbed looks against the back of his head. He was lucky his cheeks already had red patches, because at the moment, they were flushed.

For just a second, he wondered whether he preferred being here, in a moment like this, to being on the floor of Emmons Labs. David and the other leaders shoved him around, sure, but his coworkers treated him as practically invisible. He hated that he was even considering it.

Fortunately, ORB was there to rescue him, as always. “If Jermy could untie the clove hitch knot he’s gotten his tongue in, he’d explain that he feels more comfortable speaking to Mathew only because he was familiar with his work, both as an engineer and a company mascot.”

That seemed to calm Mathew. “Oh, you meant…” He gave a half-hearted ‘ha’, seeming guilty for his earlier reaction.

Joey nodded slowly at the robot. “I guess that makes sense.”

“But this is beside the point.” ORB approached the totodile. “Do I have to remind you that Jermy gave up everything he had to protect both of you from OCEAN? The path Jermy has chosen for himself has made you the closest things he has to friends right now.” The robot turned around. “I would know. I keep track.”

Just then, the front glass that substituted for ORB’s eye glowed, and he projected an image against the side of the hill. If it were sunny, it would have been hard to make out, but the dreary weather made it just dark enough to make out what it was — A chart of portraits. Photos of numerous pokémon, clearly cropped out of larger photos, dotted the hillside, weaved together by colorful lines. At the core of this web was Jermy’s own face.

Numerous names and faces surrounded him, but many of the lines between them were drawn in harsh colors. David’s was drawn in red. Jane’s was drawn in a faded gray. The two closest faces to his that were connected by with pure white lines were Mathew’s and Joey’s.

“Woah.” Joey’s maw hung open, amazed. “You have a whole chart for this?”

“I collect images and video for various purposes,” ORB said bluntly. “This is one of them.”

“Damn, that’s a lot of red,” Mathew remarked, studying the lines running along the hill, shimmering as the wind shook the grass they were imposed over. “I didn’t realize how many people you worked with.”

“Me neither…” Joey said.

Jermy heaved. Just like that, the anxieties of his friends were tamed. ORB made it look so easy. “See, this is why I hate talking about stuff like this. I trip all over my words and end up biffing my whole message,” he admitted. “I know the Swords still think badly of me because of Shaymin’s Essence, but I don’t even know how to say I’m sorry. It just…never comes out right.”

“So that’s what’s been on your mind.” When Mathew turned back to him, there was sympathy in his eyes. “We talked about it, but the Swords been quiet about the whole thing since.”

Joey tilted his head, peering around the hill to glance at Sheilott’s house. “I swore Cobalion got a bit rougher with you in the spars yesterday. Maybe my imagination’s running wilder than the west called wild, but it was like he wasn’t scared of hurting you when he went for your sash.”

“Really? I don’t remember him going bonkers like that — well, do I…?” Jermy scratched the underside of his head, replaying those fights in his mind. Sometimes Cobalion swung hard with his dulled Sacred Sword, that was certainly true. But did he really favor him more than the others? He groaned as he threw his paw aside. “If that’s true, that makes this even tougher!”

“Hey, I get it,” Mathew reassured. “Sometimes you feel the need to say something but don’t know what it’ll take to say it. That’s how a lot of the videos went — I had a premise, but the rest of the company had to help with the script. But if you bottle it up, and put off those tough conversations…” His eyes flitted nervously to Joey, who reciprocated the look before he continued. “It’ll only get worse.”

Jermy turned away. “And what if I screw up, and Cobalion and the other Swords tell me I’m the scum of the Earth?”

Joey hopped back into his vision. “Then at least y’all know for a fact how you feel about what happened. Ain’t that better than playing all the what-ifs in your noggin over and over?”

“For that matter, who gives a shit if they take what OCEAN made you do personally?” Mathew added. “You’re the only one of us with all the information they need. The Swords can’t harm you, even if they want to.”

“He has a point,” ORB said.

The cubone nodded, appreciating the robot’s approval. “Just try not to get too deep in your head about how you want to say it, alright? It’s like what Joey said. As long as you talk about it at all, that’s progress.”

Jermy shut his eyes, slumping a bit where he stood. He knew Mathew was speaking from experience. Just two days ago, Jermy had been forced to break up a fight between him and Joey in Misery Cave, no doubt spurred on by whatever secret had made them bicker so often. Now here they were, advising him in tandem. Jermy was smart enough to put the pieces together — Mathew had already done what the pikachu was afraid to do himself.

The cubone considered Jermy an equal. If he could do it…

“You’re right.” He clenched his paws. “If I keep it all bellied up, then I’ll get nowhere fast.”

Joey pumped his arms and cheered. “Yeah!”

Mathew patted him on the side. “We’ll back you up.”

As the two of them practically dragged him back toward Sheilott’s house, Jermy steeled himself. It was a familiar feeling — bracing for beratement was practically second nature for him. But underneath that was a foreign sensation of warmth and reassurance. Was this how it felt to have faith in himself?

---

No matter how many seconds ticked by, the clouds coating Vahle Village refused to shift. They only added to the tension building in the center of the mayor’s domain.

“Well?” Virizion pressed. Her voice was as smooth as ever, but Jermy swore he could hear a dash of impatience in it. “If you have something to say, we’re all ears. Well, at least I am.” She lightly swung her ear-like horns.

Now that the pikachu stood face-to-face with the three Swords of Justice, he could feel the guilt creeping back. Having almost the whole group staring at him certainly didn’t help — the only way this could’ve been more awkward is if Meowth and Sheilott peeled off the walls of her hill-home, instead of keeping their distance.

ORB was with him, but he was under orders to say nothing. If he didn’t lead this conversation, it would weigh on his conscience like an anchor a ship forgot to raise before setting sail.

Remember what Mathew said — don’t overthink it. Just say what you need to.

“Listen,” Jermy began. “I know that there’s been some…tension between you three and me, ever since Bylaide Forest. The whole Essence thing’s made it weird.”

Terrakion stepped back. “Eh? Tension? I haven’t been bothered. You messed up, but you owned up to it.” He looked to Virizion. “Have you?”

Virizion tilted her head down. “To tell the truth…”

Cobalion spared her the words. “Please, continue.”

“Well, no. I don’t think I’ve been owning up to it,” he admitted. “I didn’t kill Shaymin, but I did agree to take his Essence, even though I didn’t like it. And even not counting that, there’s buckets full of stupid mistakes I’ve made!” His feelings bubbled so close to his skin that he couldn’t keep still. He paced around, throwing his arms out. “Like, why didn’t I go with Jane six years ago when I still had the chance? Why did I not tell the world OCEAN was hiding that they killed my own sister? Heck, we probably wouldn’t even be in this mess if I had quit Emmons Labs before they could finish those portals! Oh, and don’t even get me started on what I built for them. Lemme give you a demonstration!”

A gesture was all the command ORB needed. Against the floor, he projected an image of a black, dome-shaped machine planted firmly in the ground. A tiny slit ran around the rim just above the floor, and two long arms reached far out from the sides.

“See, here. The Exploding Needle, one of the dozen or so death machine I helped the science division build. A weapon specially engineered to kill you four!”

Jermy could hear the gasps of the two younger pokémon around him. “Is that why you were binging…?” he heard Minichino mutter to herself.

He couldn’t think about that. The words were spilling out of him like a toppled glass as he hopped around the projection, pointing out the intricacies like a full-guided tour. “Look how it litters the battlefield with needles to stop a grounded assault! Look how the flamethrower arms have those little hooks to grab you by the rim!” He thrust a hand at Virizion’s knees, guarded by a red rim that resembled a boot. Then he turned to Keldeo. “And when one of the arms gets ahold of your jet-hoof after you surely try to douse the fire? Oh-ho-ho, that’s where the exploding part comes in!”

Keldeo stared at the thing with beaded eyes. “Wait, hang on, what…?”

“I spent years mastering the craft, becoming the engineer I always dreamed of being. And now I get to look back and scream to the heavens, ‘I made that!’ I…made that.” Jermy collapsed into a sitting position, breathing hard. “And I didn’t even want to.”

As he sat there, recovering his breath, he replayed everything he’d just said to himself. He didn’t even mean to yell like that — he just meant to tell them he screwed up and he was sorry. Shoot, did he even say the word ‘sorry’ in that whole thing?

It was too late now. The moment had passed, and he said what he wanted to say. He sat there, crumpled, prepared to be judged.

Slowly, steadily, one of the three padded up to him, casting their weak shadow over his body. “What do you intend to do now?”

Cobalion’s tall form loomed above him. But when Jermy finally chose to look him in the eye, he didn’t see the firm fierceness that he expected. His expression showed…sympathy? Pity? He couldn’t decide what, but it was certainly not anger.

Jermy was so taken aback that he forgot what he had asked. “Wha-huh?”

It was then that he was followed by Virizion, who paced around Cobalion and brushed against the pikachu’s arm. “Just like in Bylaide Forest, you admit to the role you played in making the organization dangerous. That’s a good thing,” she said. “But what matters now is your mission statement. While we’re keeping you safe from them, what’s your plan?”

Jermy leaned back, pondering the question for a moment. He had already made his big decision in the cave, right? “I guess I want to see what I started through,” he said. “OCEAN has to be stopped. I have to fix my screw-ups, somehow.”

“Even if it means fighting against the people you were loyal to?” Cobalion asked.

Jermy tensed up at first. Escaping OCEAN was one thing, but actively confronting them? OCEAN’s leaders clung to immense amounts of power, spanning Earth and Solceus alike! If Jane couldn’t do it, what chance did he have?

Then he remembered the sensation that ran through his body when he intimidated David with Seed Flare. Normally he regretted using Shaymin’s power, but warding off his boss like he did…it felt good.

Maybe he was more ready to fight back than he realized.

“Yeah. Words, fists, tech… If it comes to that, I can stand up to them.”

“Then that’s all you can do.” Terrakion had snuck up behind him so well that the pikachu flinched at his voice. “Right, Cobalion, Virizion?”

Cobalion backed away from Jermy, giving him space. He seemed satisfied. “Those who commit crimes often shirk their responsibility. Accepting your duty to Solceus was the right answer.”

Virizion sighed. “I wouldn’t call it a ‘duty’, but making sure nobody has to go through what you did is a goal I support.”

Jermy blinked. “T-That’s it? That’s the whole conversation?” he asked, flabbergasted. “What about my job? My weapon?”

“Listen, you may have done something wrong,” Terrakion said, “but you’re in as much danger as the anybody else. We can deal with that can of worms after you’re safe.”

“As for the weapon,” Virizion butt in. “Mortals have tried to kill Legendary Pokémon like us with tools for thousands of years. Let’s just say the win-loss ratio is in our favor — and that’s before considering we have you to teach us about any weaknesses.”

Keldeo nudged Jermy’s side. “And maybe Virizion can teach you how to really wreck these guys with Seed Flare!”

Virizion chuckled. “Me? I could try, but it’s not my skill.”

“You’re a grass type! You can totally do it!”

Cobalion shut his eyes. “We understand the overwhelming power of subservience. Two hundred years ago, we were all born to serve one person. Separating from that dynamic was…difficult.”

“Charles, right?” Jermy said. “I think I remember him from our research, but it’s fuzzy… He was a human, wasn’t he?”

Joey gasped. “A what?!”

“Two hundred years ago…?” Mathew repeated.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Minichino seemed surprised. “Charles was the last human to show up before all this OCEAN stuff!”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Cobalion said. “Charles was our friend. After he left us, we—”

“Woah, hold on!” Keldeo exclaimed. “You can’t just start the story in the middle! You gotta give them some context!”

Cobalion sighed. “I didn’t think we needed to tell the whole story. They just want to know about the man, after all.”

“Yeah, but the tone-setter’s the best part!” He pranced in front of Cobalion, staring up at him with pleading eyes. “You don’t wanna be like those lame documentaries that cut the whole story up, do you?”

Terrakion cackled. “I think he’s got you there, Cobalion!”

The stag shook his head. “Well, alright. We’ll give you the full, unabridged tale of Charles Manderson…” He gave an uncharacteristic grin. “If you do well in today’s training exercise.”

“Oh, that’s evil!” Minichino cried.

“All the more reason to give it your best then, right?” Virizion took the lead, marching toward the street with a steady gait. “We should get to work.”

As the Swords led the way to another day of practice, Jermy was still left stunned. The Swords of Justice had just…let him off the hook? They had made this whole thing look so easy it was silly. Why the heck had he worried so much?

“Jermy,” ORB said, “They’re about to leave without you.”

“Oh! Right!” Jermy pushed onward, trying not to worry about it. A win was a win. He had pricked himself on his fear and come out fine. That was worth celebrating.

That said, the decision he had just made wasn’t one to take lightly. He truly was following in the footsteps of his sister now. He had survived one test, but that didn’t mean he was ready for an exam.

Jermy looked ahead at Mathew and Joey’s backs as he walked. If they hadn’t slapped some sense into him, then he’d probably still be wallowing on the side of that hill.

What would happen when it was time to take a stand on his own?

Chapter 39: The Trifurcated

Chapter 32: The Trifurcated

Mathew was still amazed by his club’s ability to serve as a torch. While the others waved off the fire-type villager who had been so generous as to light it for him, all he could do was stare into it as it gently flickered. Even as he walked, leading the group to their destination, he kept watching it shift and crackle, clouding his vision with a tiny smoke trail.

Of course, not everyone was so impressed by the display. “We could have just bought a candle if we wanted a campfire this small,” Meowth remarked disparagingly. As he sauntered up to Mathew, he matched his paws to the length of his club, sizing it up. “It’s about as tall as one—”

Suddenly, Keldeo leapt forward and fit his muzzle in the gap between Meowth’s paws. He came so close to the club that Mathew swung it away in panic.

“What are you doing?” Meowth pulled his arms back, as if Keldeo’s nose had just swatted his palms.

The colt giggled. “I dunno! I just thought it’d be fun.”

Mathew sighed, holding the club high in the air for everyone’s safety. “Hey, watch where you’re swinging your head around!” he chastised. “Getting that close to a flame without a face shield is a fast track to getting burned.”

“Hey, I’m a water type!” Keldeo retorted. “I’m the last guy you need to worry about here.”

Mathew’s eyes flitted away from the colt. “Right.” Now he felt like an out-of-touch dad telling his kid to be careful with the new-fangled tech that the child understood way better than him.

Minichino hustled to keep up with the trio. “Maybe it doesn’t hurt you, but if you were a tree, you’d totally get scorched, and then spread the fire around to all your neighbors!” She leaned past Keldeo to get a look at Meowth. “That’s why we absolutely can’t have a bigger fire. Way too dangerous!”

The cat shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Mathew didn’t really care whether their makeshift campfire was big or not — he just appreciated that they had one at all. The moment Joey suggested they make the Swords explain their history with Charles over a fire, he had been completely on board. It brought him back to his better years, long before he moved to Nevada.

Many years ago, on a quaint, forgettable street in the suburbs of Albany, there was The Shade. Where that bar lacked in drink selection, it thrived in atmosphere. Way in the back, guarded by a screen, a large, authentic fireplace illuminated the seats with red and yellow. The lights were kept dim so the customers would cast long shadows that danced with the flame.

The day the country’s drinking age lowered, Mathew’s college buddies dragged him right into the Shade and forced him to take his first drink. Of course, he was the only one in his circle of friends that hadn’t tried alcohol before. He hated the taste, but he learned to love the people instead. Friends and strangers alike loosened up and revealed things about themselves that they’d never have said without a swig. He must have listened to dozens, maybe hundreds of stories in the light of that fireplace. It was the perfect escape from his brutal coursework — the place where strangers became acquaintances, acquaintances became friends, and friends became something greater.

It was the place where he first met her.

“Hey, are you gonna give us our backdrop, bud?”

Mathew flinched at the nudge of Terrakion, snapping him back to reality. In the time he had retreated into his mind, he had autopiloted all the way to the field before the Giant’s Ridges — the place they had agreed to gather. He was silently thankful that the bovine had snapped him out of it. As much as those memories filled him with a pleasant nostalgia, he knew where they led.

“Sorry.” He promptly drove the sharp end of his club into the ground. In one motion, their campfire was complete.

Everyone planted themselves in a circle around their tiny little centerpiece. Joey, Minichino, and Keldeo were practically hugging the warmth, but once it was obvious the far larger equines had no space, they awkwardly shimmied back. Mathew ended up sitting in the center between the kids, while Jermy and Meowth sat at the ends. Keldeo moved closer to his fellow Swords of Justice, putting the two groups on opposing sides.

“Man, this is exciting,” Minichino said. “I read all about this at Scolton, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it all straight from you guys!”

Something funny occurred to Mathew, and he scoffed under his breath. “Straight from the horses’ mouth, you mean…”

“After you told us you had studied Charles at the orphanage, we figured it wasn’t necessary,” Cobalion told Minichino. Even while loaved, the trio were still rather tall, and Mathew still had to tilt his neck to see his face.

“Well!” Terrakion butted in. “Hope you five are ready. Keldeo asked us to give you maximum drama, so—”

The rest of his words were useless. Virizion had already tilted her head inward, giving an intense, sweeping look across the fire.

“The year was 1867, and Solceus had been overtaken by its greatest fears,” she said. “A fanatic terror had stricken most of the populace, and demanded their leadership attack an enemy invisible to them. It started with the death of the great king Polimagus at the hands of Joan Prikett, centuries before. At first, it was simply a horrible tragedy — then, the rumors spread. Whispers that Joan was no ordinary Solcean.”

Virizion’s head swept through the group, moving from Mathew, to Joey, to Jermy. “Some lands enacted laws merely seeking to take them in for questioning; others to imprison them for the safety of the people; some to kill on sight. All of these types of laws were aimed at the group Joan belonged to: humanity.”

Mathew’s interest was sufficiently grabbed. He really shouldn’t be surprised that pokémon who were more than a century old would easily outclass drunkards in terms of giving a good hook. “So humans really have been showing up here for a long time?”

“That, or somebody stirred up a rumor bigger than a witch’s pot,” Joey said. “Do y’all know for sure this Joan fella was like us?”

“We do,” Meowth answered. “It came up in our studies. There’s enough testimony from the time that makes it clear.”

“Not to mention that Arceus can pick humans out from a crowd!” Minichino added.

“But how could she be?” Mathew asked. “The technology for portals didn’t exist twenty years ago, much less two hundred.”

The cat shrugged. “The humans don’t remember, so we don’t know,” was all he said. He glanced at Virizion, quietly requesting her to continue.

“Even if she wasn’t human, the people were convinced by word of mouth,” Virizion said. “Because of her, they became outlaws. The people began to use the word as a branding for outcasts who acted strange. Many pokémon were imprisoned and even put to death. The Legendary Court begged for Solceus to swallow its fear — they knew that none of the accused were human — but the chaos continued anyway.” She sagged, her neck so close to the flame that the smoke parted around it.

Mathew looked down glumly. “The country I lived in had a similar scare like that written into our history books. Witch trials, they were called. There’s no magic on Earth! They were just as hysterical…” He tensed up just thinking about it.

“And that’s only the start of it,” Terrakion said, taking the reigns. “Things only got worse when Kyurem was created!”

That snapped the cubone right back to attention. Kyurem… Wasn’t he the leader of the group of Legendaries rebelling against Arceus? The Triple-A, or something like that? “Created how?”

“Arceus, of course!” he answered. “On very, very rare days, hundreds of thousands of years apart, he siphons a piece of his power from his body into a blob of pure energy. To hold the Essence, he brings Legendary Pokémon to life and welcomes them into our court.”

“We’re some of the youngest Legendary Pokémon of them all,” Keldeo added, “so we’ve never gotten to watch. Apparently it’s supposed to be super cool!”

Terrakion paused, gritting his teeth. “Kyurem, though…the moment he was born, he went rogue!” His voice carried so much force that it made the flame waver toward them. “With his ruthless blue fire, his terrible thunder, and his frigid ice, he vandalized farms, villages, towns…even kingdom capitols!”

Joey gawked, seeming sufficiently intimidated by the description. “Why the heck would he go out and do that?”

“Holding so much of Arceus’ strength gave him an ego,” he told Joey. “Why join a Court of equals when he alone could lord over the world by brute force? He wanted to knock Arceus down a peg — just like he does now.” Terrakion spat out the last word with an aggressive disgust.

Jermy shifted around a little. “Eheh, yeah,” he mumbled.

“And who could stop him? Arceus couldn’t just un-make Kyurem. He overpowered most of the Legendary Court, and the mortals’ best were still out of sorts due to the LeadType Project shaking things up all over Solceus! Simply put, Solceus really needed a hero…” Terrakion glanced at Cobalion expectantly.

The stag straightened up. “And it was in these horrific conditions that Charles Manderson arrived.”

“Yeeeeeees…” Keldeo gazed at Cobalion in a delighted wonder, as if this were his first time hearing the story and not theirs.

“Just as Arceus was about to give life to three new Legendary Pokémon designed to combat Kyurem, he sensed the presence of a human in a very small town, much like this village. Quickly, he sent the trio to locate them, so they wouldn’t be killed by the prejudiced masses.” Cobalion’s voice remained steady, keeping a flatly serious tone. “Kyurem found the village first. It was a miracle the three found him in time.”

Meowth quirked a brow. “That you found him in time?”

He paused, then looked to Terrakion. “Hm. Keldeo’s never complained about this. Do I continue to keep it third person, even if they dislike it?”

Terrakion stomped as he turned toward his fellow Sword. “It doesn’t matter! Just keep it going!”

“Very well…” Cobalion sighed, then faced everyone once more. “We found a charmander — slim, frail, and garbed in a strange drape he called a poncho. The moment we took him away from the wreckage of the village, he attempted to stake out on his own. Charles was almost embarrassed to have needed our help. Of course, we had no better plan than to drag him with us for his own safety.”

“That part was super tough!” Keldeo exclaimed. “Don’t forget to mention that!”

Virizion nodded. “Yes, it was. Charles didn’t know a single move, but his thrashing alone was enough to keep us newborn Legendary Pokémon at bay. He adjusted to his flame tail quickly.”

Minichino giggled. “I really can’t imagine you guys losing to a charmander! That’s just crazy!”

“Well, we got better!” Terrakion said. “And well, so did Charles. As we tailed Kyurem across the world, we all trained together. Charles adjusted to his new body, while the three of us learned to control our Sacred Swords. The more time he spent with us, the more he loosened up! We eventually got him to talk so much about himself that we could help him piece together his history.”

“Oh, he was an amnesiac.” Somehow that hadn’t occurred to Mathew. Based on his annoyed leer, Joey had already figured that out. “How did you learn his past if he couldn’t remember anything?”

“We drew some conclusions based on his personal knowledge,” Cobalion explained. “For example, Charles knew so much about how to live in the desert that he must have called it his home. He had such a good understanding of our bodies that he surely was friends with Earth’s equivalents.” The stag glanced at Joey. “And he seemed intimately familiar with a job that he called ‘being a cowboy’.”

The boy’s jaw dropped halfway to the dirt. “Charles was a real cowboy?!”

“Huh, does the timeline line up on that?” Jermy wondered aloud, tilting down at the ground. “ORB, does the timeline—?”

“The timeline lines up,” ORB said, shutting down the matter.

“Anyway,” Terrakion butted in, regaining control of the story, “things really got intense after we found teachers that could help the four of us face Kyurem: the Knights of Justice, Zacian and Zamazenta.”

Mathew shut his eyes, trying to picture the kind of pokémon that’d be associated with those names. Something big, and majestic. Dragons, maybe? He supposed their looks didn’t really matter. “What were they like?” he asked.

“Back then?” The bovine grit his teeth. “Well, they didn’t make things easier, that’s for sure. They were really big fans of Polimagus, and boy, did they have a bone to pick with his killer.” He leaned in, lowering his voice as if to tell them a secret. “Let’s put it this way: those rumors about Joan secretly being a human? They were the ones who started them. Needless to say, convincing them to include Charles in our training was like talking to a brick wall!”

“Of course, we stood our ground, and since there was no time to waste, the Knights were forced to take us in,” Virizion continued. “They were much older than us, and it showed — their training was so ruthless that they managed to make Charles evolve twice. Of course, his rapid improvement did nothing to change their opinion of him.”

“Talk about stubborn!” Minichino pouted.

Cobalion nodded. “Talk meant little to them. The actions of Joan were enough to write humanity off as dangerous invaders, in their eyes. It should be no surprise that it took action to change their minds. The Knights of Justice, in their hubris, tried to take on Kyurem themselves, but found themselves overwhelmed by the dragon’s power. The one to save them from death was the very charizard they detested. That act of selflessness finally warmed their hearts. As a token of gratitude, they granted the four of us a high honor — our titles, the Swords of Justice.”

Keldeo was so excited he was bouncing in place. “Oh, here it comes! This is the part when they fight Kyurem!”

“Hey, no spoilers!” Joey cried.

“Keldeo is right,” Virizion said. “We spent almost a week arming ourselves, stocking Charles’ bags with seeds, berries, Wonder Orbs, and dungeon-made clothing that guarded us from fire, electricity, and ice. Then, we were finally ready to take on the rogue Legendary Pokémon. We confronted him in a castle of ice he carved out of a glacier, far in the north.”

“An ice castle?” Mathew remarked, unimpressed. “I see he’s about as creative as you’d expect somebody with that kind of power to be.” Although, now that he tried to picture it in his mind, he suddenly had a vivid image of glossy floors, tall ceilings, and an overwhelming chill. Had he been somewhere like that before?

“It was no easy fight!” Terrakion exclaimed. “We may have been built to punch holes in dragon hides, but fast-tracking our training meant we weren’t as ready as we could be. The four of us just about got crushed!” He leaned over and nudged Keldeo’s head with his hoof. “We’re lucky Keldeo wasn’t with us then, or we would’ve gone in without the dungeon items that saved our sorry rears!”

“What?! Name one time I’ve rushed that bad!” The colt shoved the hoof away, smiling widely. With a gasp, he added, “After you made me a real Sword of Justice.”

Terrakion chuckled as he planted his hoof. “That’s cheating and you know it!”

Mathew wasn’t amused by the distraction. Like a bargoer losing their train of thought, Terrakion had left them on a cliffhanger! “So, you used a dungeon item? Like a Wand or a Wonder Orb?” he asked, hoping to get them back on track.

“Not how you may be picturing it,” Cobalion said. “Charles had fought to open Solceus’ mind to new ideas — it was now time for him to do the same for his own mind. He realized before any of us that we did not have to cut Kyurem down to be victorious. We only had to strip him of his oppressive power. Fortunately, Charles was wearing the key to victory all along — the bandana softening the electric shocks Kyurem sent coursing through him.”

“Hah?” Joey beat Mathew to voicing his skepticism. “A bandana was what he needed?”

“Yeah, that’s not computing to me either,” Mathew chimed in. At this point he thought he understood how ordinary objects could become weapons, but none of them had mentioned type stones once. “Was the bandana imbued or something?”

“It’s because it was a dungeon item.” ORB’s interjection seemed to catch even the Swords by surprise. The robot squeezed between Jermy and Keldeo, getting uncomfortably close to the fire. “When handled properly, Wands, Wonder Orbs, and clothing found in dungeons pass off as ordinary objects, but in reality, they are composed of a powerful substance known as dungeon dust. The dust is the source of their supernatural effects.”

“Oh…kay.” That explanation was not okay, but in the time it took to process what ORB had just said, Mathew couldn’t find anything better to say. “Step back for a second. They’re made out of dust?”

Joey was already reaching over for the Dwelling Bag, rummaging through it. He pulled out a bright blue Wonder Orb with yellow hues dotting it like a soccer ball. In the core was a rounded, cloud-like shape. “I ain’t seeing how a ball like this could be anything but glass.”

“That’s how the dust appears now,” ORB said, “But if you were to smash it against the ground, it’d crumble into its real form.”

Joey’s head swiveled left, then right, then left. His jaw clenched shut. With his little arms, he held up the Wonder Orb and—

“Don’t do it!” Minichino practically screamed as she pulled it right out of Joey’s hands. Hastily, she slid it back into the Dwelling Bag. “Dude, dungeon dust is crazy dangerous! You don’t even wanna risk getting any in your mouth.”

Mathew came just short of telling Minichino to relax — then he saw Meowth. For the first time since they had gotten to Vahle Village, there was a strong emotion on his face: genuine concern for the totodile. Even the Swords of Justice had leaned back a little. The only ones who didn’t seem alarmed were himself and the two other humans.

“Sorry.” Joey had shriveled into himself out of embarrassment. Mathew rested a hand on his side, which seemed to calm him down a little. “What…happens if you eat it?”

Meowth took a breath and answered for them. “It’s complicated. But what you need to know is that it fragments you. You’re sapped of your energy, and eventually that energy…separates from you. The more you ingest, the faster it happens.”

“And that—!” Before the confused Joey could speak, Virizion cut him off. “That is exactly what Charles needed. He took our scarves and bandanas, then tore them all, dust spilling out like a plushie’s stuffing, and chased Kyurem through the cloud-covered sky. Kyurem sent thunder rocketing through the air, but Charles refused to give up. The three of us could only cheer him on as he matched the dragon’s pace.”

Just like that, the tension in the air from Joey’s near-miss dissolved. The totodile relaxed as he was sucked right back into the tale. Keldeo’s almost-squealing excitement, a trick of the flame making his eyes sparkle, only further restored the mood. Mathew wasn’t sure how to feel about how quickly they had moved on, but he hated the idea of making Joey feel any more humiliated, so he swallowed his questions for now.

“All it took was one grab of the neck for Charles to climb up and shove it all down his throat!” Terrakion exclaimed. “Four pieces of clothing were enough to make it happen fast. Kyurem crashed to the ground from exhaustion, and by the time Arceus arrived to see the aftermath, one dragon had become three.”

“Become three…” Mathew repeated it, trying to understand. When Meowth said ‘separates’, did he mean that literally? He couldn’t fathom how such a thing worked. The cubone glanced at the Dwelling Bag, laying deflated on its side, holding onto their spare dungeon items. How could a little dust have such an incredible effect?

“The two who had broken apart from Kyurem had no interest in his thirst for power,” Cobalion said. “Arceus welcomed them into the Court, and gave them the names Reshiram and Zekrom. Without his fire and electricity, Kyurem held only a shadow of his former strength, ending his hopes of conquest. The Court sentenced him to a century of isolation in his castle, where he could no longer endanger the people. With that, the battle was won.” The stag smiled nostalgically. “Charles exceeded all of our expectations.”

Virizion shut her eyes and nodded. “He really did.”

“Yep.” Terrakion stared into the lone flame, burning endlessly.

“Those long-eyed looks are about as foreboding as smoke in a forest…” Joey remarked.

Mathew, too, had gotten the sense that things were about to take a turn. “What happened next?”

“The plan was always to bring Charles to Arceus so he could send him back home,” Cobalion said slowly. “But when the time came, it was…harder than we expected.” His head drooped. “We had grown deeply attached to Charles. It was difficult to picture a world without him.”

“And, if it worked on Earth like it worked here, he wouldn’t remember us,” Terrakion added. “He came close to staying on Solceus because of that.”

Virizion looked away. “We told him that he shouldn’t let us hold him back. There were surely people waiting for him where he came from. Just like how he didn’t forget what it meant to be a cowboy, he wouldn’t forget what it meant to be a Sword of Justice — the time we spent together would live on in his heart. So…he went home.” The sorrow in her voice permeated as if the wound left by his departure was still fresh.

Keldeo sighed wistfully. “I don’t think I’d be bold enough to leave if I was him.”

“Carve out peace for yourself and then leave it all behind?” Mathew thought aloud. “Neither would I, honestly.”

“Charles has been gone for two centuries. It’s taken us about that long to discover ourselves outside of our short-lived companionship,” Cobalion said. “The three of us spent many years apart from one another, trying and failing to search for a new purpose. Just like Kyurem, Charles splintered us for over fifty years.” He looked to Jermy. “With their lifespans, mortals like you are expected to move on so much faster than that.”

Jermy slouched over, almost leaning against ORB. “Yeah. I really didn’t expect you to be so hunky-dory about all this.”

“Hey, it’s our job to play good cops!” Keldeo exclaimed. “The Knights play the bad cops for us.”

The pikachu snickered at that. “It’s funny. I get away from Kyurem, and the first people I run into are his biggest enemies.”

For a moment, the only sound that filled the field was the crackle of Mathew’s club. It collectively took everyone a second to process what Jermy had just implied.

“Get away from Kyurem?” Meowth repeated.

“Hah?!” Joey turned to the pikachu in an almost betrayed panic. “What do you mean, Kyurem?”

Jermy balked at Joey with a confused expression — then covered his mouth with his hands. “Oh I never explained that…!” he exclaimed, muffled.

“You did not,” ORB affirmed.

Minichino gave a half-hearted, bashful laugh. “I think that might be my bad too,” she admitted.

“Listen, I didn’t really talk to him that much, but I kinda knew him! It’s like when your mom takes you to the grocery store and starts talking to this other adult, and you don’t know her, but — oh, forget it, you don’t even have moms!” Before the Swords could even ask, words were spilling out of Jermy’s mouth, just as they had earlier. “He didn’t start the war on a whim, you know. How do you think we figured out where the duels were gonna happen, so we could get the Essences?”

Cobalion seemed earnest shocked by the explanation. “You mean to say that this OCEAN organization is colluding with Kyurem directly?”

“What’s wrong with him?!” Terrakion proclaimed. “Does he have any idea what he’s bringing about?”

Virizion rose from their circle and padded over to Jermy. “Congratulations. You just earned yourself a seat at the Fogside Volcano meeting. The Court needs to hear all about this.”

Jermy gawked at the antelope. “You want me to speak in front of the whole Court?!”

“Well, most of them.”

Jermy fumbled to stand up. “Uh… Okay, but only if I get to take ORB with me. He’s got buckets full of visuals and proof, and he’s a way better speaker than me!”

“That last part is hardly a point in my favor,” the robot said.

Terrakion harumphed as he unloaved himself. “Well, if that’s what it takes to get your story out there, then we’ll have to allow it.”

Cobalion gave a sweeping look over the group. “In any case, I believe that explains our history with Charles Manderson. If you have any questions, I suggest we discuss them over a meal.”

“I hope Sheilott ain’t gonna mind if we take over her kitchen to cook,” Joey admitted. “I can hardly wait…”

As the others rose one by one, ready to return to the village for the night, Mathew sat in silence, watching the flame of his own bone club.

With their lifespans, mortals like you are expected to move on so much faster than that. The line had passed by so quickly that nobody had acknowledged it, but Mathew’s mind was still ruminating. Charles had departed from the Swords of Justice’s lives peacefully, and it had taken them fifty years.

Mathew was thirty-eight, and two years deep. What chance did he have?

“Mathew? Are you coming?”

Joey’s voice snapped Mathew out of his stupor. The totodile was standing by the cubone, waiting for him to get up.

Awkwardly, Mathew shuffled to a standing position. “Yeah.” He walked up to his club and plucked it from the ground. “I’ll be right there.”

He blew on it, and the flame went out.

---

Mathew stared so far upward that his neck strained from the stretch.

He was back in the red sea, standing on the blank island. The mirror frame lodged in its ground was missing its glass, so nothing would look back at him if he peered within.

The surroundings had changed dramatically. Across from where the cubone stood, two massive rock obelisks pierced the sky. Pieces of rubble jutted from the shallow water around them, as though they had flaked off from an impossible erosion.

The pillars had taken the swarm of colors with them, leaving the sky black as it was before. Far, far above him, at the summit of those stone towers, he could it swirling around, like a disturbed hive of wasps dead-set on never allowing their target peace.

Each of the structures before him had stairs carved into its side. As his gaze moved downward, he could see them spiral around and around, as if constricting the pillars like snakes. They both widened where they met the water, opening themselves to him.

Left or right. Mathew had been given a choice whose meaning he couldn’t discern. All he knew, somehow, was that he must take one.

He approached the twin staircases with caution, and as much wary as his dreary mind granted him. Only when he got close-up did he notice that the stairs were not identical. They weaved in different directions upward — the left one clockwise, and the right one in opposition.

The left staircase was well-kept. The stone looked finely carved with hardly a blemish, and it was guarded by a gray hand rail, so perfectly shaped that he could easily picture it in a mansion. The base of the rail was had a glass topper plastered with a logo he couldn’t discern. The way upward was lit with lamps jutting from the tower, providing every step with the pure white glow of electric light.

The right staircase, however, was dangerous and aged. The stairs were unevenly sized, and if he fell away from the obelisk, there would be nothing to save him. Lining its walls were violently flickering torches, coating the path upward with an ominous, wavering red. It looked as though parts of it could collapse at any moment.

Of course, the answer was obvious. Slowly, he shambled toward the left staircase and began his ascent.

The climb was nothing like the journey across the flat sea. What was only a blur of shuffling then had become so much more vivid. Mathew could feel himself heave as he went from one stair to the next. Sometimes the claws on his feet would scrape the stone, making a harsh sound that echoed through the empty space.

His awareness didn’t make him go any faster. Mathew tried to count the seconds it took to travel from the bottom to the top, but he lost it at a meager forty-five. His attention was held more by his destination. It was so much higher in the sky than it seemed. No matter how much he scaled, following the staircase’s endless weave left, the peak of the pillar still seemed so far away. Even if there was some semblance of progress, the layers of stone steps and the glow of red lights far above him made it hard to tell.

…Wait. Red lights?

Mathew yelped as he stumbled back just in time. The stones ahead of him fell away like loose wood, tumbling through the black air. His foot had shoved it loose with ease.

Reflexively, he reached for the hand rail — and swung at air. There wasn’t one.

His head whipped around in panicked confusion. This was supposed to be the left staircase! He wanted the left!

Your mind sought the left stairs.

Mathew flinched — that voice hadn’t come from his own mind. It echoed from a distance — from the other pillar.

The other pillar, which turned rightward, and had a hand rail, and was well-lit, and was carved with fine stone.

But we know that you only listen to your heart.

That one came from above. The force of its reverberation rattled Mathew’s skull mask, as if pushing him toward the ground far below.

Mathew looked down—

Now fall.

The staircase crumbled.

All he could do was scream.

---

Mathew almost threw himself straight out of his nest. The scream of his dream translated to only a yelp in reality, which he promptly silenced. He was back in Sheilott’s home, surrounded by his peers snoring away.

He swallowed a groan. Another nightmare. This was, what, his fourth one now? The consistency was starting to annoy him.

Even though he was free from his wicked imagination, his heart still pounded, and he was compelled to pant from a phantom exhaustion. He tried to stand up in search of water to quench him, but he couldn’t manage one step before collapsing face-forward back into the nest.

How had he gotten so tired? It was like he had sprinted on a treadmill in his sleep.

…Or used a stair climber.

Chapter 40: Canvassing

Chapter 33: Canvassing

Fascamile’s sky had been overcast for almost four years straight.

Whenever Demurke went outside to get some fresh air, she had to face the anomalous weather. Some days, the layer of clouds above her were thin and fluffy — others, they were thick and coated the town in darkness. But whether strong or weak, their shield from the sun was always there.

Most of Fascamile’s population, even the ones oblivious to the Town Council’s projects, had embraced the miracle. The constant shade made Fascamile more walkable, and their crops could always rely on the volatile rain that came and went. The murkrow could appreciate those things, but it was hard not to miss the days when bright sunlight shone down on her home.

Demurke stood in the center of Town Hall’s lawn, taking in the cracking dawn censored with white. The damp ground squelched beneath her talons. Years of battle damage scarred the space — patches of bare earth were exposed everywhere, and fallen trees blocked the way forward. The chain link fence, a rushed guard against intruders that never came, had rusted from years of downpour.

When she was only a little girl, this field was dense with activity. Town Council defenders and OCEAN soldiers-to-be hustled, clashed, and ate together, making the most of every day in preparation to face the Legendary Court. Those days were gone now. OCEAN moved on to a more suitable base of operations, rendering her home little more than extra office space. Outside of the delinquents Dit put through the ringer, nobody used the field to practice or play anymore.

The moment in time now only existed in her imagination. That was where Demurke stored most of her good memories. So long as they stayed close to her heart, they were safe. Untaintable. Unrippable.

“Demoike!”

She gasped and whirled around. I-I can’t be caught up in my own head! she reprimanded herself, and so she promptly filed away those thoughts.

There was her dad, casually strolling from Town Hall’s doors to her. For some reason, he elected not to fly, keeping his wings firmly folded at his sides. His gaze never averted from her — to him, the yard of Town Hall was perfectly ordinary.

“Oh, h-hey Dad,” Demurke mumbled. She only tilted her head up enough to make eye contact. “How’s…the, um…the fight?” She knew the question was expected of her, but it still took effort to ask.

Dit scoffed. “Pretty slow. Dat frog and his posse’s giving our boys trouble out dere!” When Demurke glanced away, he leaned into the edge of her vision with a reassuring expression. “Aww, don’t worry your little hat about it. We’s got dem covered — just give it some time.”

Dit had mistaken her secluded look of relief for worry. She elected not to correct him. “Th-that’s good.”

“What we’s actually gotta talk about is da other group.”

Right. Dit had already explained to her that Jermy, Meowth, Minichino, the recruits, and the Swords of Justice were ‘faffing about’ in a tiny village next to Bylaide Forest. He complained up and down to her that Emily forbade them from just storming the place and taking them by force — ‘too many uncontrolled variables,’ or something like that. Last she heard, Emily had told him she was formulating a plan to silence them before they could publicize OCEAN’s behavior to the Court.

“So…w-we have a plan now?”

“Well, here’s da thing,” Dit explained. “Emily and me got it mostly in motion already. But we’s got just one more kink to deal with. Da plan involves somebody with a particular skillset ta carry out, and we haven’t gotten one like that yet. Emily said we gots to pick fast!”

Dit didn’t even have to say anything more. Demurke had been in dozens of conversations just like that. It was her dad’s idea of giving her chores.

But this went far beyond any ordinary task. He was asking her to play a role in stopping their escape.

“Wait, n-no, you…you c-can’t put me up to that!” Demurke protested. She meekly backed away.

Dit’s peppy bravado dissolved instantly. He straightened up and glared down at her. “Demoike.”

Demurke quivered under that all-too-familiar gaze. “We had a deal! You two s-said, if I told you where they were… That’d be a-all you’d make me do.”

“Dat was before dey slipped out of our feathers,” he spat. “You’re lucky da plan doesn’t involve any fighting anyway. Emily’s soft like dat.”

The murkrow wasn’t stupid. She knew her argument was doomed the moment it left her beak. What she wanted had no say in the Fascamile Town Council — not until she superceded her parents, anyway. The only protest Demurke had left was to stand there, trying to hold her guard.

The blue pidgeot sighed. “I knew you’d be like dis. Well, if dat’s how it’s gonna be, maybe an ‘incentive’ is what you need…”

Finally, for the first time since he had arrived, her father pried his wing from his side. Concealed in it was—

Demurke’s gasp was so loud that it came out more like a squeak. No. No, he couldn’t have.

He carelessly tossed the thing into the grass in front of her, flinging it by its long strap. It landed with its lens pointed to the sky.

Then, and only then, the clouds broke. A pinpoint opening shone perfectly down onto the lens, making light shine into her eyes.

The murkrow’s beak hung agape. A torrent of memories she had held back for years crashed over. They were blissful moments, once upon a time, but they had been soured by sorrow along the way. This was something she forced herself to leave behind — and now her father was throwing it right back in her face.

Demurke’s talons trembled. She fell to her knees, catching herself with her red-dyed wings. It was a wonderful and unbelievably cruel gift.

Dit continued on like it was nothing. “Dis plan of ours involves photos. I wanted to use da remote cams, but David said they’re too big and slow to haul out dere. We need somebody fast, small, and sneaky, with a good aim to boot!”

The clouds closed up. The camera still remained, mocking her with its very presence.

“T-This isn’t fair…” Demurke choked.

Dit groaned, flicking the edge of his wing. “Really, what’s all da blubbering for? I thought you liked dis.”

“You… You know why!” Her voice cracked. She knew how embarrassing this looked, crying over a camera. But it was true that Dit should understand precisely what made her react this way.

Years ago, a part of her self-identity had been violently torn from her. That was Dit’s deal — she could have it back only if she obeyed.

“Well?” her dad pressed. “You want the camera or not?”

What little resistance Demurke had was wiped away. Guilt was already flowing through her. What Dit and Emily were asking of her endangered all of the friends she had spent the past few days trying to protect. But now that Mr. Persian was gone, she had no outlets left. The Murkrow would give anything for a familiar reprieve.

She pulled the strap of the camera over her hat and let it weigh down her neck. Demurke found this freeing before, but now it felt more like a chain, binding her to her duty. “Okay,” she responded softly.

“Dere we go!” A satisfied Dit turned around and beckoned her back into Town Hall. “Lemme fill you in on all da juicy details.”

As Demurke trailed him, her vision glazed over. She no longer paid the wrecked field any mind. All that mattered was her responsibility at Fascamile’s future — the distant promise that one day her life here might get better.

Even if it meant sacrificing one love for another.

Chapter 41: Flagged for Moderation

Chapter 34: Flagged for Moderation

“Sorry, Meowth, but I’m gonna need that back!” Virizion slammed her dull, gray Sacred Sword downward, aiming to smack the cat’s head.

Meowth hopped from one rock to another, the only way to avoid her in his precarious position. Droplets from the rushing current lapped against his paws. This segment of Arbor River was nothing like the gentle stream closer to the village — it was roaring and deep, with only shards of river slick jutting out for safe standing. If he failed even one leap, he’d easily be swept away.

He tightly gripped a red cloth haphazardly wrapped around the end of a stick — a makeshift flag.

At the river bank, the other three Swords of Justice were attempting to claim his own group’s flag, equally improvised with a green cloth. Everyone besides him was busy fending them off. Mathew’s bone club hurtled toward a marching Cobalion. Electric shocks soared, walling off the jetting Keldeo. Terrakion was forced to leap away from a glob of Water Gun and another swish of Aqua Tail.

Meowth was the only one of them able to peel away from playing defense. He was solely responsible for bringing the Swords’ flag to their side of the river and winning them the game. The cat had ended up in this role by chance — if he had a say in the matter, he would’ve let anybody else do it instead.

Virizion leapt high, tilting her head down to drag the blade to his face as she soared over him. Meowth clashed with her Sacred Sword using one set of claws and swiped at a leg with another. By the time he spun around to see her land, she was doubling back, going for another jab. Like a leaf swaying to and fro, she danced around Meowth to strike from all angles.

He could barely keep up with her fancy footwork. Fortunately, she couldn’t do anything that painful when her blade was dulled—

She bucked her hind leg straight into his chest.

“Agh!” Meowth doubled over, coughing as he stumbled. The flag dropped from his paw, nearly dropping into the drink. The only thing that kept him from falling over was the threat of scraping his paws against the hard, wet stone.

Virizion turned around, looking at him with concern. She stepped as far back as there was room on the rock, giving him room to recover. “Sorry. Was that too much? I’m used to sneaking in a hit or two like that sometimes, since Keldeo can take it.”

And obviously, you can’t. You’re too frail.

Meowth held up a paw in the air, asking for a moment to recover. He took a breath, affirming that he had reclaimed the wind she had knocked out of him. Slowly, he reached for the flag. The cloth was weighted down by the absorbed water, depriving it of the proud wave it once had.

He expected Virizion to get back into the action once he lowered into a defensive stance. But she just kept standing there at the edge of that rock. When Meowth looked up, he saw disappointment spread across her face.

“You can use your words if you’re hurt, you know.”

Meowth kept his claws drawn. “Why should I?”

Virizion sighed, but didn’t press it any further. She shut her eyes and focused. Meowth watched as leaves all around them were plucked by the wind. Some broke off from the trees draping over the river, while others leapt from the water and the bank. They were all drawn to her, coalescing in a glowing flurry around her Sacred Sword.

“I’ve trained dozens of people in my relatively short life as a Legendary Pokémon, starting with Charles all the way up to you,” she said. “So I know what it looks and feels like when somebody isn’t giving it their all!”

She launched them like a torrent of throwing knives. Meowth had no room to dodge — the leaves slashed at his sides. He grit his teeth, hugging into himself to brace through the pain.

Before he could recover, Virizion closed the distance between them in only a few fluent steps. “If you’re not willing to talk,” she said, “then I’ll make you.”

Her gray Sacred Sword found its color.

Wide-eyed, Meowth broke out of his personal huddle and stepped aside. But Virizion didn’t aim the sharpened blade at him.

A green blur swept through the water, and suddenly the stone he stood upon burst. With a precise cleave, Virizion had cut the rock in half and partly shattered it. It rapidly crumbled in the water, splitting into pieces impossible to stand on.

Meowth teetered on one foot, looking left and right for an escape. The only answer he had was to desperately leap for a neighboring, unbroken stone. It was too far away, and the only part of him that managed to reach it were his paws.

He clenched his claws to get a hold of it, flag wedged between his digits. He lashed his legs and tail as the current tried with all its force to pull him off. He could feel his tie coming loose, too.

Virizion didn’t give him the time to climb up. In seconds, she stood over him, her Sacred Sword still a brilliant green.

“If this wasn’t a game, the enemy would have cut you up by now. I’ve heard from the others about how you fight — I know you’re smarter than that.” She pointed the energy sword at him. “If your heart’s really in this, prove it to me.”

He stared at her determined gaze for a long while. There was so much written on her face that she didn’t say aloud.

You aren’t even trying to get back up? Pathetic, she’d spit.

That’s the reason I singled you out. You’re the weak link. The fault line.

Without your medical know-how, you’re disposable. And next time you see Poliwrath and Chip, you’ll lose that excuse, too.

You’re nothing compared to me. Nothing.

Meowth looked down at the rippling water. “Just do it.”

She cut the rock right in front of his paws. It turned to pebbles in his grip.

The cat clenched his eyes as the current pulled him under. He bounced and smacked against some of the taller sediment as the water dragged him along. Soon, he’d be back in Vahle Village. Back in Misery Cave. Back in Kalmwa’er—

Before he was too far gone, Meowth was ensnared. Two arms tightly gripped his sides. The figure thrashed against the current with his legs, pulling them both toward the bank. Once they were close, they threw him forward.

He surfaced, coughing and sputtering. A totodile followed him in short order, not nearly as bothered by the bumpy ride they had just gotten off.

Joey had just saved him. Again. Of course.

He stumbled up to Meowth. “That was rougher than a twenty-buck bullride!” he said, checking his body. “Are you okay? If you got busted up—”

“Don’t worry about me.” Meowth straightened his tie, weighted down by water. He pointed at the wet flag, splayed out depressingly on the bank. “You have a game to win.”

Joey studied him, concern clear on his face, before pulling back. “I reckon you’re right.” He picked up the red flag, cradled it like an egg, and barreled down the river bank, aiming to bring the game to an end.

Meowth followed at a pace so slow and relaxed that there was no time for him to get back into the action. It was better if he just watched.

There was a reason Meowth had been silent since they had truly left that town behind. It all started that night in Bylaide Forest, when Mathew met his grief over the past with a cold indifference that only seemed to make their crisis worse. An idea hatched into his head, then. What if he just…stopped talking? Did the bare minimum to keep the others from acknowledging him and became a passive observer, out of the way and easy to ignore? Like the old days, when he holed himself up in his dormitory.

The very moment he started living life this way, miraculously, everything got better! The daily drama that had plagued their time under his father’s watch almost completely disappeared, replaced with an evident air of comradery. From here, all the way back, he could watch the proof of that change — Mathew, Jermy, and Minichino carving a path between the fervent slashes of the desperate Swords for Joey to lead them to victory.

When he stopped participating and handed the baton to the others, they won. So what good was Virizion pressuring him? If it meant everyone else could fight on the banks, then maybe he should’ve stayed adrift.

Joey grunted, arms still gripping the red flag he had driven into the ground next to its green twin. “Hah… Game over.”

In short order, the fight died out. Attacks stopped flying, and the Swords dissolved their blades. “Nice work!” Terrakion proclaimed. “Good game.”

Mathew loudly huffed, seeming tuckered out from his nonstop defense. “This was easier than I thought it would be. Felt like a workout fighting you off, but otherwise?”

“Yeah! Carrying those water buckets up and down the ridges together a few days back was oodles harder,” Jermy concurred.

“You guys should see our Capture the Flag rounds when we’re not holding back!” Keldeo gently jetted down, landing on a wide patch of soaked soil. “Minichino’s watched us. She can tell you it gets crazy.”

“Totally!” The minccino skipped in front of the humans, hyped up by their win. “Picture a super-dramatic fight in your head. Cliffsides bursting, dust clouds everywhere, blades smacking each other high in the air… Then make it all about flags! And set it in some weird place, even more out-there than a river! That’s basically what it looks like.”

Mathew leaned back, dragging his club in the grass. “Yeah, I can picture that…”

“Well, even with our personal restrictions, we expected you not to come out victorious in your first round,” Cobalion said. “That much is worth celebrating.”

As the others chatted away, three people stayed withdrawn. Meowth himself, of course, peeled away from the crowd. Virizion, returning from the center of the river so light-footed that she was mostly ignored. And Joey, handing off the makeshift flags to Minichino.

Virizion slipped through the small crowd, leaned her head down to Joey’s height, and muttered something Meowth couldn’t hear. Both of them were staring straight at him.

The cat grimaced. He turned around, following the river back the way they came—

“Hey.” Joey ran up and grabbed his wrist, stopping his escape. “Where are you moseying off to?”

Meowth glared back at him. “We’re going back to the village now, right?”

“Yeah, but ain’t you gonna take a minute to celebrate with the rest of us?”

“I don’t really see the point.” He stared out at the river. “I almost cost us the game, anyway.”

Joey’s grip loosened in his confusion. “You won us the game! Virizion even told me you did a good job. All it took was a little rescue, and—”

See Meowth over there, Joey? Why don’t you put a little spotlight on everything he did wrong? Pepper in a lie or two to make him feel better while you’re at it.

Meowth yanked his arm away, freeing himself. “Maybe I didn’t want you to rescue me.”

He only managed a few more steps before Joey’s bafflement escalated to frustration. The totodile threw himself in front of his stride, blocking his path. “Okay, where the heck’s all this moping coming from?! I’ve been watching you peel away like a sticker on glass since we got here, and now that we get a second to talk, you’re all cagey now? This ain’t the Meowth I fought off OCEAN with.”

Meowth shook his head. “That Meowth isn’t in right now.”

“Ain’t you the mental health guy?” Joey pressed, almost driving a finger into his chest. “I dunno what they taught you in that Higher Ed school, but this can’t be it.”

It wasn’t. Even in his haze, Meowth knew that. Unfortunately, years of ‘knowing better’ didn’t change how he felt. He sidestepped Joey, spinning him around and reversing their positions. “This isn’t your problem to deal with, Joey. You should go back to the others.” He took a backwards step in retreat.

Joey looked at him desperately. He loosely stretched his arm forward, as if trying to pull him back, but his hand only reached so far. “I never called off Help Ourselves Squad, you know,” he muttered.

“You didn’t,” Meowth agreed. “I—”

Meowth stopped. Before he could get the word out, a strange, sudden sensation tickled him. Something pushed against the gentle breeze of the river, cooling the early fall air. It was a sharp gale, harsh, and much too cold, like a taste of the next season seasoned into the wind.

Joey cocked his head, just as perturbed. “Did you feel that?”

Meowth peered over his shoulder, looking for the source, only to find nothing but streams and trees behind him. “Yeah. That’s not natural.”

“Weird…” Just like that, the animosity between Joey and him was halted for the moment. “Wasn’t there some voice stalking y’all back in Bylaide Forest? Maybe she breathed on us or something.”

Meowth wasn’t sure about that. He only remembered being called to that night — he hadn’t felt anything from her, much less her breath. But he supposed it wasn’t impossible. “I guess we should probably ask the Swords to go look for her. If we're right, she’s probably close.”

Joey led the way back toward the others. Mathew, Jermy, ORB, and Minichino were still immersed in their own little world.

“I’m telling you, if the Swords are really that good, they could definitely play billiards with Sacred Swords!” Jermy said.

“Even if they were dulled, I’m pretty sure they would cut the balls,” Mathew calmly countered.

“Seriously, guys, slow down!” Minichino swung the two flags in exasperation. “What the heck is billiards?”

“An Earth game,” ORB explained bluntly. “It’s also known as pool.”

Minichino eyed the robot, then the river. “Wait, so it’s a swimming-”

“Not that kind of pool!” Jermy exclaimed. “It’s like, a table, and there’s a bunch of balls and sticks…”

“It’s kind of a complicated game to explain,” Mathew said. “You’d have to wade through a lot of explanations to learn how to play.”

Minichino groaned. “Dude, just don’t even try!”

Mathew tried anyway. “Thankfully, I definitely have a billiards game on my console. All you have to do is splash into the many titles. Maybe try not to have a stroke looking at all those games?”

“Uuugh! Come on!”

The wind had gotten stronger in the time it took Meowth and Joey to approach them — the cat could feel it blowing against his back, ushering him forward a little. He eyed Joey, asking him to initiate.

The totodile seemed bothered, but obliged anyway. “Hey, Mathew—”

“Stop.”

Cobalion’s firm voice quieted them all before Joey and Meowth could finish their question.

The Swords were standing clustered some paces away. Cobalion and Virizion looked wide-eyed against the direction of the new wind, while Terrakion was glaring at them with panicked eyes. Keldeo shimmied in place, seeming nervous.

“You all need to hide,” Virizion said. “Now.”

Joey clung to his hat, the only clothing he had that could keep him warm in the chilly breeze. “Hah? What’s going—”

“We don’t have time to explain!” Terrakion yelled angrily, snapping out of his stupor. He unsheathed his yellow blade and pointed to the bushes hidden behind the trees. “Get behind those and don’t move!”

Somewhere far off, clearly coming from above, the sound of furiously rushing winds peaked over the tinkle of the river. Meowth recognized it — when large flying pokémon soared at high speeds, the sound of their travel could reach the ground.

He understood now. It wasn’t the voice at all. This was something much worse.

“No…” Jermy’s jaw hung agape as he scooped up ORB. “How is he here…?”

“Let’s move before we find out,” Meowth muttered before pulling Joey with him, leading them toward the bushes. The others chased after him, and in seconds, they were tightly crammed under the leafy cover.

“Is it really…?” Keldeo asked.

The air grew colder.

“We would recognize this chill even after thousands of years.” Cobalion lowered his stance. “Keldeo, prepare yourself. He’s almost surely here for a fight.”

Colder.

Minichino slouched, only now realizing what Jermy, Meowth, and the Swords had. “Man, I didn’t know it was like this,” she muttered.

Colder.

Mathew’s head swiveled back and forth, from Joey to Minichino and back. His breaths were short and heavy. When his eyes met with Joey’s, Meowth could see them dotted in fear. “Shit. Where have I felt this before? That portal in the Waregle, it was—“

CRASH.

The ground quaked at the force of the impact. Powerful gales rushed through the riverside, rattling the bushes and almost rolling them over. Trees creaked. Dungeon pokémon nearby scampered and flew away.

Helpless, the group huddled close. Jermy curled around ORB. Mathew put himself in front of Minichino. Meowth and Joey held on to each other. In the face of immense danger, they couldn’t afford anything else.

Steadily, slowly, the winds calmed, and the chaos quieted. An oppressive cold hung over them as they quivered.

Meowth was the first one brave enough to chance a glance over the bush. The river they had fought over was entirely coated with a sheet of ice. Several trees on both sides had fallen over from the force of the landing.

The Swords of Justice had leapt into the center of the icy river. So, too, had the towering dragon that assailed them.

Kyurem had arrived.

Notes:

Special thanks to TheSnapDragon for beta reading this chapter. Definitely check out his work, PMD: Flowerbeds, if you haven't already!

Chapter 42: Cold Opening

Chapter 35: Cold Opening

How many stories had Mathew been told about dragons? There were countless fairytales about fledgling heroes facing off against winged reptilian beasts ten times their size with only a blade or spellbook in hand. He thought, after hearing them repeated so many times, he’d be ready for it to happen for real.

Mathew was wrong. Nothing could prepare him for the terror of seeing Kyurem up close. The titanous dragon’s jagged body towered over them, far larger than the model he had seen in the church. Every shift of his stance cracked and clattered the ice floor spread over the river, like it was little more than a gravel road. Even behind their cover, he could feel the force of his breath, heaving in and out.

It would take only a single swing of his arm to get rid of them. Mathew would be trembling, if the deathly cold wasn’t already making him furiously shiver under their cover. Why couldn’t reptilian pokémon be cold-blooded like Earth reptiles?

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” His voice graveled with a low rumble — Mathew was sure it would make the ground quake, were he to shout. “Cobalion, Virizion, Terrakion, and… Keldeo.” He squinted at the colt in question.

Had it not been for Cobalion wising up on their behalf, the Swords might have remained too stunned to reply with anything besides awkward gawking. “Hello, Kyurem. You’ve come to see us at an unusual time.” He marched toward the dragon slowly, but with conviction. Even at his size, Cobalion looked small in the shadow of Kyurem.

“Is there such a thing as a ‘usual time’ in this war? Even with our structure, an element of surprise is to be expected.”

The others regained their composure and followed Cobalion’s lead. “Speaking of structure, aren’t we both attending the meeting at Fogside Volcano in a few days?” Virizion asked.

“Normally, I would wait until after that was resolved,” Kyurem said. “But I’ve had my eye on the reporting in Scolton. This has gone on for so long that your side of the war has given it a new name. The mortals are tired of the uncertainty.” As much as his arched back would allow him, he straightened up. “If an end to the war is what Solceus is asking of me, then who am I to refuse?”

Terrakion lowered his head, horns guarding the grim expression on his face. “You could’ve just said ‘I’d like to duel you’ and saved yourself the effort.”

He huffed. A visible gust of cold air flowed from his nostrils. “Does it bother you that I have reasons?”

Listening to this conversation made Mathew’s mind swirl in a mixture of horror and anger. Kyurem was terrifying — but more than that, Kyurem was lying to their face. He remembered this cold from all the way back on his second day on Solceus, when he peered into one of the Waregle portals. More than Jermy’s own account, he knew Kyurem was connected to OCEAN. All this about answering the call to wrap up the war was just bluster masking a crime.

Still, it didn’t hurt to confirm his heart’s suspicions. He glanced at Jermy and muttered, “He’s here for—?”

The pikachu nodded grimly. “For us, yeah.” Mathew could see his breath as he spoke.

“Actually, my calculations on Kyurem’s best actions suggest otherwise,” ORB suggested. He was incapable of whispering, but his volume was turned down low enough to imitate it. “Eliminating the Swords of Justice would not only benefit the Triple-A, but remove some of our only protections against OCEAN. Executing this duel while looking innocent is his main objective.”

“Th-then why ain’t K-Keldeo a-and the others calling him out on it?” Joey whispered shrilly, the temperature stuttering his speech. He huddled between Minichino and Meowth in a vain attempt to warm up.

“It’s not about your reasons! It’s about how much we can trust them!” Keldeo’s voice prompted Mathew to clench his jaw — either the colt had guessed what they were thinking or they were too loud. “Fighting us now is super weird. How do we know you aren’t dueling us just to mess with the meeting?”

“Hm. Trust, you say.” Even with hollow eyes, the glare that Kyurem gave the colt was deathly. “I understand why you cannot trust my goals. But let me ask you a question in return, Sword of Justice.” He pointed a long, sharp claw at him. “Do you trust yourself? Do you understand the reasons for the choices you’ve made up to now?”

“Huh?” Keldeo’s muzzle scrunched in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Cobalion cut Kyurem’s question off before it received an answer. “We’re not interested in riddles. Solceus is flawed, and so is the Legendary Court — but your war-path isn’t the way forward.” He summoned his Sacred Sword, glowing a blindingly bright cyan. “The Triple-A has not swayed us before. You, of all people, will not sway us now.”

Kyurem shut his eyes, and for a moment, he lightly leaned his head back. “I thought as much. There are many things I wish I could convey to you…” Then, just like that, he readied himself in a fighting stance. “But my responsibilities in this war come first. Maybe the best way forward is simply to remove you from your role as a Legendary Pokémon.”

“Come and try it!” Virizion drew her own sharp energy blade. With an ‘eep’, Keldeo mimicked her.

Mathew watched them slack-jawed, hugging the bush’s side like a stress toy. Were they actually going to fight him, right here, right now? “Why th-the hell are they entertaining him?! C-Can’t they just ask for time?”

“You need an airtight excuse to put off a duel like this,” Minichino answered softly. She looked uncomfortable, but her fur kept her from shivering like him and Joey. “If they back out now, Kyurem can rub it in their face at the meeting. The Triple-A’d trust Kyurem, and the Pro-Arceus Alliance would get mad that they blew off a chance to end the war in one shot. They’ve gotta fight!”

“W-We’re supposed to be rulebreakers!” Joey protested. “They c-could use us as an excuse!”

Meowth nudged him and shook his head. “Not all of us are humans.”

“They’re really strict on this,” Minichino affirmed. “No regular pokémon in the war, for any reason. Even with you three here, Kyurem could make it look bad.”

“Hey!” Terrakion’s yell, while aimed at Kyurem, was definitely code for them to quiet down again. He was the only one whose blade was not drawn. “Are you sure we shouldn’t move this? There’s a mortal village close by. It’s only a quick run away from here.”

Kyurem peered over his shoulder. “That place seemed far enough to me… But if you’re concerned, then we can move away from it as we fight. I intend to carve a path forward, anyway.”

If the dragon understood that Terrakion’s message had a second meaning, he didn’t let it show. Mathew certainly understood. If the Swords lost the duel, they were safest in the company of Sheilott, Mayor Torterra, and Silvahle back in Vahle Village. But was running really an option? The five Essences were what ensured they stood a chance at making it to Mithlline. If they lost four of them, how much would those chances shrink?

ORB seemed to identify the same question — and unlike the cubone, he could actually estimate it. “If we return to Vahle Village, the probability that we are attacked by OCEAN spikes to near-certain, regardless of who wins. Standing close-by a victorious Kyurem is roughly the same. However, if the Swords win, remaining in proximity ensures we can heal them and dissuade a follow-up attack.”

“I guess it wouldn’t count to patch them up after they win…” Minichino peeked over the bush nervously. “Assuming they win. Kyurem is crazy strong.”

At some point, Meowth’s attention had been pulled away from both their strategizing and Kyurem’s intimidation. His head was fully turned, and only the twitch of his ears indicated that he was even listening. “Leave or stay, we can’t do anything without…” Meowth pointed away from the bush with one paw and at the space under his arm with the other.

Fuck! The Dwelling Bag! Mathew had been so overwhelmed by Kyurem that the bag had completely slipped his mind. All of the healing items they packed from Kalmwa’er were in there — and the Wormhole Wristlet, too. The Swords had banned it for the Capture the Flag game, so they had left it on the bank far to their left.

Mathew turned his head toward where Meowth gestured, squinted… Oh, thank God. He could see it where he’d left it, blown back a little but still untouched. Too bad it was in the opposite direction of Vahle Village. “We can’t run for that,” he mumbled. “Not while he’s here.”

Jermy muffled a groan. “So we’re all sitting ducklings.”

Precious seconds ticked by in silence. Terrakion had shut his eyes and contemplated — or, Mathew guessed, pretended to contemplate to buy them time. Any longer and it’d look obviously fake. With a disappointed grunt, he matched his blade with the others. “If you’re sure we won’t hurt the village, I’m ready. Just don’t expect it to be easy. We’ve gotten better since our last fight, while you’re a third of the dragon you were back then!”

Kyurem didn’t seem interested in delaying any further. “I may only have a third of my original strength. But through this war, I’ve gained something much more important…”

The dragon heaved. His breath was painted in a deep violet energy.

The Swords lowered their fighting stances. Mathew clung to the bush, their only shield.

“Conviction!!”

Kyurem’s roar rocketed through the river in a shockwave, knocking the four over. Wind from the impact seeped through the holes of Mathew’s skull. He sprung forward, cracking ice as he charged them down.

Terrakion and Virizion sprinted off the frozen bank and, in just a second, a stone pillar and a tower of leaves rose at the oncoming dragon’s flanks. Virizion ended up on their side of the river — she had gathered twice the amount of leaves Mathew had ever seen her guide in half the time.

Meanwhile, Cobalion and Keldeo faced Kyurem’s approach head-on. One stood his ground, while the other launched in the air, water splattering along the ice.

They weren’t enough to stop Kyurem. He turned his body and slammed his neck into Keldeo’s underside, slapping him away while avoiding his golden blade. The dragon lowered his arm, converting his run to a moving slash at Cobalion’s legs.

The stag refused to be swept. He jumped up at Kyurem’s lowered head, his blue blade scraping the icy guard around it. “Strike n—!”

He acted faster than Cobalion could speak. Only wincing at the protected blow, he slammed his heel into the ice, splashing his foot with water leaking from below, and grabbed Cobalion by the back hoof. He pivoted, clutching him with both arms, and shoved him away from the bank — straight into Terrakion’s rock wall.

Rock fragments burst on impact, smacking Kyurem’s body — but Cobalion’s own head took the brunt of it. He grit his teeth, silently biting hard down onto his tongue. It was a wonder he wasn’t concussed.

A gray, metallic sheen spread over Cobalion’s Sacred Sword. He reared his head back and, with a lurch, jammed it shallowly into Kyurem’s hand. The dragon lurched and threw him down — straight into the fractured ice floor.

That was enough to make the stag yelp. His landing planted his side into two sharp spikes of ice. Cobalion slid off them and rolled, ice wounds exposed. The crimson of those two punctures was already staining Cobalion’s fur. Indirectly, Kyurem had drawn first blood.

Mathew’s chest pumped. The others muttered something behind him, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the fight.

The other Swords retaliated in tandem. Virizion finally unleashed her attack, throwing the natural knives all around the dragon’s body. With a skid, Terrakion dove in front of Cobalion, compensating for the friendly fire by preventing Kyurem from crushing him underfoot. Laying low, Keldeo jogged around Kyurem, jetting for a swing at the base of his tail.

The colt got the cut he wanted, but for little gain. After staggering from the magical leaves, Kyurem bucked his tail to push Keldeo away…and then swung it all the way to the bank, catching Virizion and flinging her onto the ice. With remarkable grace, she managed to stay on her hooves, but it didn’t make a difference when the lack of surface tension sent her sliding anyway.

Kyurem outstretched his arms. At his claw-tips, a cloudy mist spread, shielding two hazy cores in his grips. “You forget I can cut you up, just as you do to me.”

Keldeo’s eyes widened as he landed behind his foe. “Isn’t that Blizzard?!” he called to Terrakion.

Mathew’s stomach dropped. He could tell between Terrakion’s indecisive panic and Cobalion’s struggling attempts to stand that that move was something to dread. “Virizion, move!” the bovine cried.

Virizion earnestly seemed to try, but she was still moving from the force of that tail swing. She wobbled in-place as she was only further aligned with his attack. She closed her eyes… Then, determined, she lowered her head, guarding her body with her Sacred Sword. “Prioritize Cobalion!”

It was only then, at that moment, when Mathew fully grasped what was about to happen. The Swords of Justice were off-guard, unprepared, and tired. They weren’t going to win. They couldn’t.

He should’ve looked away. He should’ve elected not to watch as the full force of a hailstorm was fired sideways into Virizion, watching precious few clink off of her blade rather than gash and cut and cleave.

But he didn’t. Mathew watched all of it. And only when it was over did he fall backward.

---

Red water splashed against his mask.

His back didn’t slam into grass, but into a fuzzy nothingness coated in a red sea. There was no Kyurem, no forest, no cold.

The crumbling tower loomed over him, casting a mile-long shadow.

Mathew’s heavy breath was drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. His mind raced from his flaring emotions. What was this?

Crush him.

A simmering heat burst through him from the inside of his skull. It was like a clawed fist reached into his brain, clutched something inside, and pulled it down through his body. He flailed in discomfort.

Do you realize what’ll happen if you don’t? He’ll kill your only saviors. He’ll kill all your friends. One day, he’ll even kill Mark. That’s what happens when you let people like him loose for long enough.

Mathew writhed and thrashed in the water, splashing it all over himself, trying to keep cool. He knew better than that. Even if he threw himself at that dragon, it wouldn’t accomplish anything.

But that warmth didn’t care. It wanted the carnage.

Oh, you choose now to tighten your moral compass? Holding back’s never saved you. Holding back’s never saved anybody.

Mathew clenched his teeth, gripping his skull mask. “N-No…” he hissed. “Stop…!” His eyes darted, looking for somebody, anybody to help him.

His bleary gaze found straight up — straight at the tower, which stood against all odds.

There, at the very top, was a dark speck, peering over the edge.

Somebody was up there.

---

They were lucky that the one thing Mathew didn’t do when he fell onto his back was scream.

Jermy stared helplessly as the cubone’s club clattered out of his hand. His back spike dug hard into the ground, keeping him in place as he rolled and kicked. Weak but pained whimpers escaped his muzzle.

“Mathew? Mathew, w-what’s wrong?!” Joey squatted at his side, waving his hand in front of his face.

Mathew didn’t react. In fact, his tear-welled eyes stared straight past Joey’s hand, like he was a ghost.

The totodile looked desperately to the only medically trained person among them. “What’s happening to him?”

Meowth moved behind the crouched Joey, peering at Mathew over his head. He dared not get closer. His mouth opened, closed, then opened, as if cycling through diagnoses looking for the right one. “I hope it’s just a panic attack,” he said, with a concerning amount of uncertainty.

“J-Just a panic attack?!” Joey practically bit at him.

He winced. “What matters is that we need to relax him and ground him in reality. Try not to touch him too much, but stay close. If he needs a hand to steady himself, you can give him one.”

Without another word, Joey turned back to the flailing Mathew, kneeling over him. “Hey, Mathew, we’re here…”

Minichino wisely stood aside, clinging to the bush. Her eyes nervously flicked between her two groups of friends having simultaneous crises, helpless to support either. ORB was busy peering just barely around the edge, making sure to record every possible second of their fight.

That left Jermy. What was he doing?

He was just watching. Like he always did. His idol was right in front of him, experiencing genuine pain from witnessing how badly Kyurem harmed the Cobalion and Virizion, and he couldn’t even think of a way to help.

His ears and tail twitched as frustration coursed through him. Jane wouldn’t have sat here and done nothing. David wouldn’t have either. By gosh, if Mathew wasn’t the one incapacitated, he’d probably have pushed them out of this corner by now! Why was he always just an accessory to somebody better than him?! He didn’t even have the independence to break with OCEAN without some kind of supermagic intervention, so how could he—?

Wait.

Jermy unclasped his hands. He stared down at them.

There was something only he could do, wasn’t there? Besides the Swords of Justice… He was the only one right now with a power that could match Kyurem. One that he had sworn off for so many years, because it belonged to somebody else. Because terrible things had happened for it to end up with him.

Was that a good enough reason to let his friends suffer?

No. It was his Essence now. His choice. And he’d use it to revolt his way.

A green energy, bright but shapeless, grew between his palms. At once, everyone but Mathew’s eyes turned his way.

Minichino was the first to realize. “Dude, what are you doing?” she muttered.

“Making this stop.” Jermy cradled the energy like it was a newborn child. “Protect Mathew and ORB for me. Got it?”

“Wait—!”

He didn’t pause to hear any more before blipping around the bush with a Quick Attack.

Jermy had seconds to get his bearings on how the fight had progressed since Mathew fell. Virizion had collapsed in a heap where the ice met the grass, dozens of little wounds along her chest and neck matting her sides. She was still breathing, but she wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

The only reason Kyurem hadn’t capitalized on the prone grass type was because the others were picking up the slack. Keldeo’s yell echoed through the air as he madly slashed at Kyurem’s legs, ushering him along and away from Virizion. Cobalion, fighting past the pain, used Terrakion as a stepping stool, earning a slash at the dragon’s chest.

But their second wind wouldn’t last. A narrow beam from Kyurem’s maw shot Cobalion straight out of the air, clipping his backside, and a rogue kick was enough to make Keldeo whiff and Terrakion topple. The so-called husk seemed winded but far from exhausted.

The Dwelling Bag wasn’t that far from Virizion’s body. If she had just a little extra space away from the fight, she could crawl toward the bag and grab an oran berry. But at this rate, the Swords wouldn’t be able to give her an opportunity.

He had to make this quick.

One dash, then another. He kept moving, making a tiny Seed Flare grow in his tiny digits. He could barely hold it in place by the time he reached the bank, much less as he approached the opposite edge of the frozen river. The pikachu teetered as he slid along the cracked ice — if he fell, the move would burst on him, and his cover would be blown.

Jermy skidded to a stop under Kyurem’s shadow. Perfect. He took a few more precious seconds to power the move. Bigger, bigger—

Keldeo halted a swing to stare at him with wide eyes.

Kyurem noticed the pause. He peered over his shoulder.

Jermy pulled his arms back striking a pose. Electricity sputtered from his cheeks, bouncing off the elemental power. He reveled being noticed.

From afar, Terrakion shouted. “Don’t do it!”

Jermy did it. The second he flung his arms forward, the glowing grass type energy surged in a wide shockwave, loudly cutting the air.

Kyurem had no room to react. The move exploded against his back, blasting him further forward. Cobalion wisely ducked and skidded away, letting the dragon crater into his own ice floor chest-first. Ice cracked, snapped, and clattered — If it weren’t for the dragon’s frigid pressure, the floor of their fight would have long since collapsed.

The remaining Swords’ heads were all fixed on him. Keldeo’s muzzle hung agape. Terrakion gritted his teeth. Cobalion took the opportunity to keel over.

Jermy panted, white clouds puffing from his muzzle. “Ha… Haha! Yes!” He leaned back and pumped his arms. “Wow, that felt-”

Flash!

He winced. What was that just now? The pikachu looked around him, but couldn’t find a source. The Swords seemed just as confused.

“You…” Kyurem pulled himself out of his own crater. Drops of water from below trailed spread along the ice from under his feet. “What is this? Where did you get that power?”

Jermy masked his confusion with focus. The more goading he did, the more time Mathew, Virizion, and the others had. “Don’t you play stupid with me!” he proclaimed. “You know exactly what this is.”

Kyurem scoffed. A grin spread across his guarded muzzle. “Do I? Hm.” He stepped toward him. “Swords of Justice, why don’t we put our duel ‘on-hold’ until I take care of this?”

Jermy’s hubris eroded. He knew this was coming — that didn’t mean he was ready for it.

The dragon barreled Jermy down like an enraged bull. His thrashes pushed Terrakion and Keldeo out of the way in favor of a single target. Jermy kept narrowly out of his clutches with a precise zip, hopping to keep his momentum from sending him sliding to the bank.

He didn’t have the luck of escaping twice. Kyurem caught his second zip with his arm and shoved him right in front of his face. Jermy was met face-to-face with the glowing cyan brewing in the dragon’s muzzle.

Searing pain came from all directions. Ice compounded and pushed him away from Kyurem, and a horrid crack against his back as he was shoved through something. It wasn’t until he landed, chest frozen over, that he figured out what it was.

The tree in front of him creaked as it tipped over and slammed into the ice, spilling some of its leaves. The branches dug into the ice, anchoring itself through its collision.

Jermy groaned as he stood up, flicked off some of the icicles along his chest, and got his bearings. He was already in pain after a single shot, but realistically, he should’ve been dead already. The pikachu was more than familiar with Kyurem at his best - a point-blank Glaciate probably would’ve killed somebody as scrawny as him. Why use Ice Beam instead? In fact, Kyurem hadn’t used his strongest attack at all.

He couldn’t think about that now. Behind the tree, Kyurem was dead ahead - and in his peripheral vision, Virizion was still down. Jermy needed to do more than just draw attention. She needed protection while he forged an opportunity to deliver the Dwelling Bag to her. What could he do to make that happen?

Then he stared at the tree, leaves dangling sideways all in front of him. Oh, duh. Even if she was hurt, there was something her mind could still control, right?

Kyurem moved to follow up, but Terrakion shoved him with the sharp orange blades of his shoulder, keeping him at bay. Jermy had seconds to act on his idea. He gave the tree a shove of his own, rolling it closer to Virizion, then planted his little paws on the side of the bark and gripped tight. Shaymin was supposed to have control over the life cycle of plant life, giving them the energy needed to flourish. Even if it was severed from its roots…

“I really hope this works.” He took a deep breath.

When he puffed, energy poured through his arms, flowing straight into the trunk. The leaves that clung on to the tree grew bigger, and new ones sprouted in the place of ones snapped off. Then, they turned shades of red and brown and flecked off, and another layer began. Jermy pumped the tree through a year and a half’s worth of leaves in seconds, sending hundreds flying everywhere.

Virizion understood the assignment. Several dozen of them circled tighter and tighter around her, until she had completely enveloped herself. She had formed a leaf shield to guard herself with, using what mental strength she still had.

Jermy stepped back from the tree, finished with his handiwork-

Flash!

White filled his vision again. What was that? It was bothering Jermy that he couldn’t make sense of-

A massive punch to the face sent Jermy hurtling to the grass. Kyurem grit his teeth, clearly annoyed. “Did you come here just to taunt me with your party tricks?”

His injured cheek sparked as pushed his head forward. Behind Kyurem, he could see a panicked Keldeo tending to a collapsed Terrakion. That was all the story Jermy needed to get that the Swords needed recovery items now.

The pikachu rolled aside, barely dodging a kick from Kyurem, as he dashed away. With Virizion safer, all he had to worry about was—

The Dwelling Bag was gone. He had committed its place, a couple feet away from a cluster of round rocks by the bank, to memory, and it wasn’t there anymore. Where…?

---

Meowth was still getting used to the feeling of carrying the Dwelling Bag. His reflexes told him it was empty, because that’s what it felt like — despite the endless inside, the outside could flatten completely, as long as nothing was above the ‘actual bottom’ of the bag. What mattered, though, was that it contained his medical kit, their one lifeline to prevent the Swords’ untimely demise.

He had intended to remain invisible, just as he had for the past several days, as they helplessly watched the Legendary Pokémon die. As far as Meowth was concerned, involving himself at all would only make the situation worse. But then Mathew fell, and Jermy, despite knowing more about what was at stake than anybody, faced off against Kyurem for their sakes. Somehow, in the horrible chill, the pikachu had found a courage nobody else could.

Behind the bush, Meowth had pictured what would happen if, after giving everything he had, Jermy failed, and the Dwelling Bag’s items never made it to Virizion. The rest of them were all right there, and none of them were acting because of their fear and honor. Could Meowth live with himself if he let those things cost somebody their life?

No. The answer was no. That was why Meowth had come out to take Jermy’s efforts over the finish line.

The cat prepared to call for Virizion to let down her swirling leaf shield, but she saved him the effort. In a swift motion, she settled the leaves and spread them out, ensnaring him inside. Her mind was clearly dedicated to the shield and only the shield — her eyes were glazed over, and her head didn’t react at all to her presence. Considering how much blood she was losing to each of Blizzard’s punctures, it wasn’t that surprising.

Meowth reached a paw deep into the Dwelling Bag. In his mind’s eye, he pictured his own medical kit…and a second later, its handle bumped against his digits.

Virizion groaned. For the first time, her body stirred. She tried to kick her legs to shift her body toward him.

“Stay still for now,” he ordered. Meowth pulled two items from the kit — in one paw, a sitrus berry; in the other, a roll of bandage tape, slathered with adhesive. Normally the accelerated healing of berries would be enough, but while there was still a fight around them, extra measures were needed.

As soon as he was sure Virizion was conscious enough to chew and swallow the berry on her own, the cat got to work. Propping her side up using a nearby rock, he looped the tape under and over, wrapping her chest firmly but not tightly. He didn’t have enough tape to cover every little cut, but it’d at least help her along while her body closed the wounds.

“So you’re climbing out of the river after all.”

If Meowth had been less experienced, Virizion’s words, followed by a scoff, would have caused him to pause in surprise. “Whatever you want to call it,” he mumbled, trying not to split his attention too much.

“You’re not the worst medic I’ve had. Hmf…” She tensed up. Sensing some discomfort, Meowth loosened his current loop. “You might be the strangest.” Her tone just barely gave away that that was a joke.

“I’ve been told that before.” He focused. Just a few more loops would be enough.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

Another loop.

Stomp. STOMP. STOMP.

Another. There wouldn’t be time for more.

“He’s here!” a more confident Virizion warned. Her leaf shield dispelled into another barrage, battering Kyurem behind Meowth’s back. He could only assume she had snuffed out an attack he was preparing.

Meowth peered over his shoulder. Kyurem was even closer than he expected. For the first time, the two locked eyes. The only reason Meowth wasn’t panicking was because he couldn’t afford to.

Kyurem huffed. “How quaint. If this were any other fight, I’d praise your forward-thinking. But I can’t allow you to- urgh!”

His jaws were snapped shut by the weight of a jagged, metallic tail slamming him from above. Jermy landed with a skid in front of Meowth and Virizion, beat-up and a little frosted over. “Hey, thanks for chipping in, but can you two maybe unpark your keisters a little faster?!”

“I’m…working on it…” Strained but stabilized, Virizion climbed to a standing position. Her wraps sagged with gravity and the weight of absorbed fluid, but held firm enough.

Meowth clung closely to her side, prepared to catch her if she fell. The two hobbled away from Kyurem as quickly as Virizion’s body would allow—

Flash!

---

A third white light. Jermy was starting to get sick of these.

His head flicked toward the source. By the time it got there, there was nothing — but all the way in the corner of his vision, he swore he saw a dark, near-black blur between the faraway trees. Evidently, these were coming from someone.

It finally dawned on him. Were these…camera flashes?

Just then, something changed in Kyurem’s expression. His intense pose face sagged into a cutting gaze. He stepped back, adding distance between him and his easy prey.

“We’re done here.” The dragon reared an arm back, preparing something. Jermy planted his body in front of Meowth and Virizion, bracing him.

Kyurem swung, digits open, sending out a blast of frigid cold. But he missed — it wasn’t even close to hitting them.

He realized too late that it wasn’t aimed at them.

Jermy watched, eyes beaded, as the attack cut up the bush down the bank with pinpoint precision. All of the bystanders were blown away like paper in a storm.

Mathew rolled along the dirt. His startled yelping made it sound like he had returned to reality. Joey landed right beside him. Minichino smacked against the trunk of a tree and collapsed on the ground. She seemed hurt, though it could’ve been worse.

ORB didn’t hit any trees. He just went flying deeper, and deeper, and deeper into the woods. Jermy could barely see him in the cover of the trees.

CRACK.

But he could hear the sound of the impact.

“NO!” Jermy’s helpless yell was followed immediately by an uncharged Seed Flare aimed at the dragon. But he wasn’t there anymore. In the time it had taken for ORB to land, Kyurem had begun sprinting, using the frozen river as a runway. He spread his faulty wing, his turbine-like tail’s core glowed — and with a single jump, he launched into the air and took a low-hanging flight over the forest.

“YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, MISTER!” Jermy screamed into the air, stomping after him as fast as his little body would take him. After a second or two, he thought to lower onto all fours and really take off along the river’s edge. “YOU DON’T GET TO JUST—”

“Jermy, stop!”

The pikachu only skidded to a halt because a stone wall jutted out from the ground in front of him. Jermy turned and bore his fangs like a rabid animal.

Terrakion, bloodied and bruised, caught up to him with a desperate look on his face. “He’s gone. You’re… You’re not gonna catch up with him. Just give it a rest.”

Jermy looked vacantly at the wall, and then, all at once, his fury collapsed. He’d been sustaining through his injuries out of a spite that was now emptied of purpose. He fell forward, completely drained.

Almost in tandem, the oppressive cold that had hung over them all this time dissipated. The warmth of early autumn washed over the river, offering a small touch of comfort.

A panicked Keldeo guided Cobalion off the ice just in time. In seconds, the fractured ice floor that served as their battlefield lost its firmness, melting in the mid-day light. Chunks rubbed and whittled each other down as they followed the river like an overcrowded waiting line. Even the tall rocks that had once peeked out of the river depths had been leveled, leaving no path between the two sides.

Just like that, the fight was over. Jermy wasn’t even sure why it ended.

Meowth was the one to pick him up, offering an oran berry to rejuvenate him. The cat had enough orans for the other Swords of Justice, as well, although he only had the one sitrus berry meant for a crisis.

With their safety assured, Jermy hustled toward the victims of Kyurem’s cheap shot. Joey and Minichino were just fine, but Mathew seemed dazed. “I… What…?”

“I don’t get why he just up and dipped while he was winning,” Jermy admitted, “but he’s gone. The Swords are all okay. I got it all to stop.” He offered Mathew a hand, to pull him up.

Mathew looked him up and down, fixating on his fading bruises, and the remaining little bits of ice that were shrinking into droplets in his fur. Jermy could see the gears turning behind that skull, as he realized what just happened. “Wow. I can’t believe you just did that.” He grabbed his hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re telling me!” Jermy exclaimed as he righted the cubone. That meant all of them were alright, given the circumstances, except for…

Jermy ran into the trees, following ORB’s flight path. It didn’t take long to find him. The robot was resting on a bed of dead leaves, the singular cushion of his fall. The frontal glass had a tear running from top to bottom, just left of center. The left side of his body was dented inward.

His claw arm was on the ground. Next to him. Detached.

“ORB…” Studying the damages only made Jermy feel pained. This was the first time he’d ever been broken to this degree. He was a machine, so he didn’t feel pain, but all that work it took to put him together, refine his parts…

Why did Kyurem attack ORB and the others like that? What was the point?

The pikachu crouched down over him. “Look what he did to you, buddy.”

There was still a glow behind that glass. Miraculously, ORB’s damages hadn’t completely shut him off. “Cong — congratulations, Jermy,” ORB said, stuttering to produce his words. “You are — are no longer the only catastrophic failure I ob — observe.”

Mathew slouched, clearly uninterested in ORB’s joke. He picked up the arm and held it over his mask. With the way he studied it from all angles, Jermy wondered if he was trying to figure out how to put it back on himself.

When the two of them showed the Swords of Justice ORB’s damages, they were mortified. It took a collective effort from both engineers and the stammering ORB himself to explain that he did not, in fact, experience pain or feeling. They all seemed unconvinced, but dropped the subject in favor of more important things.

Namely, telling them how badly they just screwed up.

“Do you understand the significance of what you’ve just done?” Cobalion spat, his composure regained after a quick river-bath to clean himself of blood. “Not only did you intervene in the duel, but you showed Kyurem that you’re in possession of Shaymin's Essence.”

“Well, good news! Kyurem already knows I have Shaymin’s Essence anyway!” Jermy argued.

“I understand that you were allies. But now he has good reason to mention it to the Anti-Arceus Alliance.”

Jermy groaned. He should’ve expected this to be his thank-you. “Did you really want us to just sit there and watch you all croak?”

“We wanted you to run!” Terrakion reminded him. “Did you not get the message while I was talking?”

A surprisingly calm Mathew explained, “If we went back to the village without the Dwelling Bag, we’d be shit out of luck. And we couldn’t get the Dwelling Bag without being spotted by Kyurem.”

Cobalion hung his head, clearly frustrated by the situation. “At least we were already planning to take Jermy to the Legendary Court meeting. The only way this encounter won’t cause trouble with them is if you reveal your humanity to—”

“That’s enough lecturing, Cobalion.” Virizion stepped between the stag and the rodent. She was still wearing the wraps, although Meowth had reassured them she would only need them for a few minutes more. “We’re all shaken by this, but let’s not forget that these five are everyday mortals. They need rest, to process all this.”

Cobalion shrank a bit, wordlessly recognizing her point. Jermy was a bit surprised — this was the first time he had seen him cede his dominant role to Virizion. Maybe the fact she had been hurt most was a motivator for that.

The kids, Joey and Minichino, and the honorary kid, Keldeo, were huddled on the side, watching the ‘adults’ debate. “Yeah, can we please not do this now?” Keldeo asked for them. “Fighting Kyurem was tough enough. Was he really three times tougher when you guys and Charles beat him up?”

“Kyurem’s strength in our history came from his natural skill in three elements. The Kyurem of today has trained in ice alone for over a century,” Virizion explained.

Terrakion watched the cleared-up river, not wanting to meet Keldeo’s eyes. “Yeah, that was kind of a bluff. If you made me put a number to it, he’s more like half-strength.”

The colt grimaced. “Ouch. And here I thought we were ready for him.”

“Dude, you lasted like crazy out there!” Minichino tried to comfort him, patting the back of his mane. “Compared to the others, you were totally toughing it out.”

“I know, but…” Keldeo shrank at the sight of Virizion’s bandages. “You got it bad.”

Virizion nodded sagely. “I suspect Kyurem singled me out for my type disadvantage — he wanted a fight that looked like it was going badly, fast. His aim was to make you all afraid, and make a choice. I don’t know if the choice you made was right…” She faced Meowth. “But it did save my life. Thanks for that.”

Meowth only gave a tired shrug in response. He stood in the shade of a tree, remaining in the dark despite his heroics. Not sure how to add on, Jermy threw a thumbs up at him. If it wasn’t for Meowth, there wouldn’t have been time to heal Virizion. Meowth only ‘hmm’ed at his gesture.

Cobalion slowly shook his head in disapproval, but he kept his objection to himself. “We need to return to Vahle Village and get rest immediately. If Kyurem really is an ally of OCEAN, reinforcements could be on the way.”

Nobody disagreed. With the Swords on one side and the river on the other, they all began their trek back to the village. They’d have a lot to catch Sheilott, Mayor Torterra, and Silvahle up on.

The Swords seemed insistent that sparing their lives was the wrong choice. Jermy wasn’t sure whether they were right. But at least he was doing it on his own terms.

Seeing Mathew tired but no longer panicked, Jermy concluded those terms were good ones.