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Part 5: The Circle
Chapter 29: Second Scion

Edge

“Do you remember anything about Caden?” the chespin asked me.

He was seated across from me, but I could feel his breath as though he was close, the question sour to my nostrils and sore to my eardrums. That name drilled itself into my head like a piece of hollow metal.

“Victini, yes?” I stalled.

“Uh, yeah.”

He knew what Caden was. We talked prior. The library was unlike that previous setting. It was lonely, with but he and I in a warm corner, sharing stories. I liked Atti. He was a quiet person, allowing me to think about the things I needed to do to save this world, rather than asking me about it. I didn't want to answer anything about my past. I had no past. I was here, living in the now. Caden constantly reminded me of that past. I needed him out of the way, but I wasn't about to harm anyone. No. I wanted him here so that I could have him explain himself to me, then never have to deal with him again.

“Well?” he pursued.

We weren't alone, Atti and I. There were others here. Topher, Lucia, and... my 'mother', for what that was worth. I didn't want this question in my mind, presenting itself to me; a shard of glass stuck in the folds of a broken azabell's head.

“I don't remember him well.” I said.

“But he was your best friend,” Atti squealed. “You remember your mom, right?”

“I haven't... the slightest clue where your going with this, Atti.”

“It's so wrong that Laza did that to you.” he sighed, taking a much preferred path.

I didn't agree with him aloud. I hadn't the need to, but his change of direction certainly relieved me. I was growing exhausted of the attention. I was nobody important, yet nobody understood this. How could someone such as myself, filled with so much malice, such great avarice, be so important? No, that wasn't true. I had three goals: wake up Cruce, defeat Laza, save this world. Any friends I made on that path were... nice. Simply nice.

And Laza would have lectured me otherwise. I was tired of hearing his voice in my head before it made even a peep of a sound. Sick espeon.

“Do you think he's gonna do that to Laura?” Atti asked, leaning forward, grabbing the bottoms of his feet with his paws.

“If Laura stays with that tyrant...” I paused, thinking back to the six-seventy. Number six-seventy, a floette. That was all they were to Laza. Numbers, waiting to be applied to an equation, manipulated algebraically to his liking, his making. He didn't even know what his promise of happiness was. He was the worst kind of liar there was.

I let the tension build inside. I left the statement open. It was obvious. Laura was going to meet a fate more sinister than death under Laza's control. What was worse was that he had Rinavay now.

If he had Rinavay, he had the others. His Champions, a congregation of fascists.

I remembered them now.

“Never mind that,” I shook my head, flicking my tail over my waist, plucking at the fluff that bothered me, the dirt left from that leafeon. “What's it like having Bryan?”

“Bryan? He's a good bro, I guess. He's kind of a weirdo a lot of the time, but now he's all serious.” he answered.

“Why?”

“He misses Charley.”

“Charley? Who's Charley?”

“Our dad.”

I blinked, being given a human's image—a man, blank in his face, touched with a voice too jagged to ignore.

“We don't talk about him a lot, but I know my brother misses him.” he continued.

“What... is he like?”

“Kinda fun,” he smiled, shallow enough in the light to miss. “He's really, really friendly. He's actually my step-dad. I couldn't ever call him Dad, though. That's why I call him Charley. I don't think he likes that. Mama told me it made him feel like a failure. But it's so hard. I don't think anyone can replace my old dad.”

“I suppose I... understand what you mean.” I shuffled, my rear uncomfortable against the fabric of the chair. I froze when I heard my bell jingle.

No one could replace his old dad, he said.

The longer I spent in this world, being this strange person I was, the longer the list of failed replacements became. There were no replacements anymore; rather, there were representatives of ideas, of faces long forgotten. This was what Laza wanted, though. He wanted to erase everyone and rebirth them just a little bit better. His definition of the word 'better' couldn't be found in a glossary. It was nonsensical.

Atti missed his father, but he still couldn't call that father 'Dad'.

Maybe I was... the same. Maybe I missed everyone. I would have missed my friend Caden, who I couldn't call my friend anymore. I would have missed my mother... I would have missed calling my mother 'Mom'.

I missed my brother, who I could only call a sister who loved someone named Drew. I couldn't call myself Drew anymore. Celebi loved Drew. So, I felt nothing for them. Any of them.

The very least I could do right now was wish Bryan the best of luck in saving Laura. I couldn't dwell on the idea of her becoming like Rinavay, or worse. Surely—most surely—Laura was smart enough to know that Laza was only leading her body to a grave so that he could get at the spirit; but, Laura was of the Stand, and... the Stand followed Laza.

Ever since... I removed the bell...

I'd hated him less.

But I still hated the idea that he existed, ever did exist, and will continue to exist for me to hate him.

“Atticus? Edge?” someone chirped, feminine and flowery. I crossed my legs and leaned forward, paws in my lap, looking over the edge of the chair to see the shaymin smiling back up at me.

I didn't offer an oral response.

“I have a little escort mission for you boys.” he said, thrilled.

I thought before speaking—I couldn't help but notice the attention I appeared to be drawing from the charizard, an unsettling number six, too accustomed to his body for an ex-human... Interesting. Anyway...

Topher. Someone I never understood. I talked with him, peered into his mind and saw his world. I saw his sadness, a ghost of fog, damp against the grass on his back. I knew his ordeal, faced with a body, a frame, upon a bed, with no spirit or mind to accompany it. I was told that I, as someone I never thought I could be, was the same as him—as Cruce.

I talked to him, fanned through his mind, stroked his conscience, searching for answers of Cruce the only way I knew how. It was the way I was taught. I had to be Gamma.

The only problem was that... Topher, too, was Gamma.

I was wrong about you, Topher. You have little to nothing to do with Laza's spread of Gamma. You have a different Gamma inside of you—one I have seen before. But I feel... that it shouldn't be here...

...I... feel... eyes... again. Telling me how to think. Telling me how to feel. When the bell came off, those feelings went away.

Perhaps I don't need this bell.

Later. Where to, Topher?

…

-PERIOD-TWO

Bryan

…

The sky bellowed again, thunder shattering the crystalline outline of the clouds behind a solemn sun, uncertain of its path.

With my eyes to the gray and orange skies, I led, or had once led, this small makeshift team across the dangers of Autumnridge's streets, once hot, now cooled, like solid magma. We were walking on brown leaves, dust, and ash now, the shroud of the woods at its fullest. The deeper we went, the less familiar the woodland seemed, as it should have always been. It was a stranger, even as it was masked with the scent of the Grove, so pure and fresh.

Travis was just behind me, chatting with Derrick. Ericka was running ahead, searching for woodland trinkets—sticks and leaves and the like. She had formed a fan out of dead, autumn leaves. With no thumbs to grasp the item and keep it together, she had to squeeze it between both of her red paws. The motion of her fanning herself with air kept a smirk on my face.

And the thought of her being a piece of Derrick kept the gears in my head spinning.

That's right. They just keep on spinning, don't they, Bryan? Hehehehe!

A flash of pain, lancing my temples, echoing into my forehead. I stopped, stood up on my hind legs, and smacked a paw against the side of my head.

“Ngh,” I grunted, shutting both eyes. “I-I uh...”

Everyone else stopped a second or two later. Ericka, holding the leafy fan in front of her, peeked from behind it, her mouth a tiny hole of curiosity.

“Bry?” Travis chimed in from behind.

“No, it's...” I coughed, a quick response. “It's fine; I-I-I'm fine.”

No one said anything. No one moved.

How much do I have to laugh until you hear me through your own lips?! You're so inconSIDERATE! But it's okay. Outcasts like yourself are all the same. Hehehe!

“What?” I said, clenching my teeth and my head between both paws now.

“That sounds like not-fine.” Ericka poked.

I gave her a sharper look than I wanted. She frowned at that. My intentions weren't as cold as my gaze. I just didn't want anyone to talk about it. They didn't this right now. We were all too busy.

“Don't worry. Just a little head-rush.” I lied.

“Do you want to stop by the river and cool off? It's not that far.” Travis suggested, the slightest hint of a whimper dripping from his lips.

“Nah, I'm good. Really. Stuff just... caught up to me, is all. C'mon, I think we're getting close to... wherever we gotta be.” I said...

The woodland was our destination. The woodland was also very large. I only knew that we were going into a labyrinth to search for someone that I couldn't mistake anymore. That much was easy. The hard part was finding anyone else in the thick of sylvan ghosts.

“I figure they didn't get very far if they entered from the same spot we went in.” Travis claimed, lifting his focus, searching the trees.

I did the same as him. I looked up. There was no reason to, but the way the wind painted streaks of transparency against the leaves, creating sounds of whistles and air late to the ground, enraptured me, like the answer was there.

Then, I looked down. I looked at one of my paws, finding a resemblance to a branch above from one in the past. It was the same that injured my palm, cutting a gash clean through the lines, like it already belonged. That wound was gone. It went away when I changed, and there was no trace of it left over, without regards to the stain it may have left on the wood near the riverbank.

A spark lit the universe.

Derrick gasped.

I felt something soft at my side, at first with enough room to move my own arms, then closer, and then closer yet again, until I could see blue ear-tips in my peripherals.

There was a boom, grumbling beyond the clouds.

“What?! Derrick! Are you serious?” Ericka mocked, dropping her leafy fan.

The leaves parted from one another, going their own ways, yet all coming to a stop at the same spot, the same ground.

“Wha...?” Derrick mumbled.

“You're afraid of lightning? But... you and I are lightning!” she exclaimed, more concerned than ridiculing.

I turned my head to the—what was it... minun?—I turned to him. He was glued against my left arm.

“It's just that... th-th-there's a flash, and... I don't need to explain myself!” he said.

“If it makes you feel any better, Travis and Bryan would die if they got hit by lightning.” Ericka... comforted?

“But then what do we do with the bodies?” Derrick asked.

“Guys? Really not helping.” Travis stuttered.

I moved from my spot. I felt the weight of Derrick's small body follow me for an inch. He must have stumbled, having been leaning against me. Taking to all fours, I came across the dirt trail, connecting one end of the woodland to the other, spanning miles of no one's territory. It met all of the greatest mysteries I knew as a child, from the bell tower to the obsidian circle, the mountains to nowhere and the old sewer. That was where I came from—where Bryan found his home in imagination and his solace in fancy.

We were closest to the obsidian circle. I looked to the east, where the dirt trail meandered beneath an arched canopy, trees sagging forward, holding out widespread arms, a passage to the past as far as a distant bend took it. I went there, with my nose closer to the dirt than I'd once wanted. Now, I was elated to capture any scents I could by doing so, and the most relevant of which were hot against my entire face. Smoke, chemicals, something beyond my creativity to express. Something that thought alongside me...

I must have been on the trail of something Edge called Gamma. It had a means of being sensed unlike any other element. There was a color it gave that didn't fit the world. There was a scent it emitted that made you want to clean yourself of any outside germs, any tiny particle other than Gamma that may have stuck to you in any process whatsoever.

I had this feeling once before. I was with Travis when it happened. Once, I was human. Then, I wasn't, as I passed into a new reality. That reality had a name. It was called the Grove.

The others spoke behind me, saying my name. I heard their footsteps after answering with my own. It was all they needed to know. I went forward, and they did, too, following closely.

There was a portion of overgrowth that gave way to damage, to wet mud, an outsider of trails inside of the maze. This stray trail wandered from the dry dirt, cleanly lashed and groomed, as if someone had come through here with a machete. I recalled a thought I once had while exploring this place.

I stopped before the mud trail, knowing of course where it ended. It ended with a group of seven, once nine, seated in a circle on stones, checking for updates on technology, talking with one another, never too serious. There were voices—there were always voices in there. It was where I had left my head a lot, laying in bed on my side with my eyes open, brought back to the guy sitting next to me and the girl seated next to him, looking at that flat-cut slab of rock in the middle of the arrangement, or whatever it was.

These were different voices. They were full of exasperated breaths and troubled expressions, unlike the days spent with the Circle. There were only two voices in the undergrowth, the clearing that we called a place... to hang. To crash. To live life as stupid kids, for what it was worth.

It was nice. It didn't have any walls. I could leave at any time.

And that was what I did.

Once. No more. I walked into the mud, following the nauseatingly powerful scent of Gamma. The voices got louder. They were bickering, one with more verbosity than the other, one more powerful than the other, neither of them convincing to my ears, but into my head they drilled nonetheless.

Not a single of us said a word as we approached.

…

…

…

Laura

“A Champion?” I kissed, gasping, holding the stem of my parasol tight.

My handsome, impulsive companion was seated, comfortable against the soil, with his head raised to an object that didn't understand me as much as the cones and rods behind my eyes could understand it. I grew dizzy looking at it, the shimmering colossus of a stone poised so mysteriously into another, radiant, without a red or a green or a blue to be called home. It was of its own tinge.

“That's us,” he said, giving the giant stone his attention. “We're from there: a place called Gamma.”

“A place,” I whispered, watching the rock glow. “But I thought it was... like some kind of energy.”

“It is. Gamma's everything, Laura,” he looked to me. “It's everything a brain wants it to be. And one brain wanted it to be Laza, then Laza wanted me to be Nirva. It's the same with you. Laza wants you to be his faithful follower.”

“I do follow Laza. I respect him, too, but I don't understand him well enough.”

“We should fix that. Might as well know the espeon who calls the shots,” he took a deep breath, lifting himself from his rear and taking a short, serene walk around the rock, observing it from all angles. “I won't spoil everything for you, since it's a lot to think about. You should get comfy though. Kick your tail up. Relax.” he informed.

I did so, watching him until he watched me, a smile crossing his beautifully carved muzzle. I obliged, lowering myself to an obsidian stone beneath me, slow, until my tail draped over its edge.

“'Atta girl,” he applauded, finishing his full circle around the occult rock. “You know what? I don't remember everything. Laza's smart though. If he's gonna help me remember something, he helped me remember the essentials. He has to spread his Gamma. The more he does, the more I remember, the more people get his blessing. Good game, right? Sure, there's probably a bit of leftover loyalty in my head that he wanted me to have. I'm okay with that.”

“So how does Gamma spread? I know it's the Pokémon infection, but... that's all.”

“It's that,” he nodded. “It's like an infection. Key word: like. It spreads to people who have absorbed Gamma in some way. At first, it's real weak—y'know, it needs to spread through contact. Then, it'll get into your head through vibrations. So, sound. Then—and it's not quite here yet—it'll spread through sight. Again, the more people who have Laza's Gamma crawling around inside of them will just spread it for him. Soon enough, it'll spread through thought, then land. Before you know it, the world looks a lot like one better suited for us Pokémon.”

“Laza literally wants to change the world...” I marveled.

“Bingo. There are some complications—like, adults take longer to infect than children, some a lot longer than others. It's something about the maturity of the brain... Or, like, you can't really be infected by the infected land. That's impossible. It's gotta be through another sentient being capable of general intellect on par with your own, 'less the land's got a brain in it... Anyway, That'll rule out the feral wildlife. So, yeah, no animals get to be Pokémon.”

“Animals can't get transformed, but the land can?”

“Yeah. Laza can't do that himself. He needs Edge for it. Something in that bell... Hey, remember what Xima told us?”

“I do,” I confirmed. “She said that the bell is dangerous.”

“Hm, I wonder why. I need the bell to help out Laza a bit more. Personal opinion here: I'd like to see the land get a makeover. Not the prettiest forest, I think. Could use some more green.”

I giggled, growing nervous. I wondered if he knew about the seasons here. Winter was on its way, so, naturally the woodland was going to start shedding its color very soon.

“Hah, damn, see—I wish I remembered more. I was a researcher... I studied Gamma for years, but when you forget all of your work like that, it's just a bit of a thorn in the old side,” Nirva sulked. “Weeeell, whatever. It's not so bad.”

“I'm sorry you can't remember, but the more we spread this stuff to other people, the more you can remember?”

“That's right. Gamma builds on itself. It all comes back to the place it started. Who got the first dosage of Gamma? Easy. Laza's host did.”

“Who is Laza's host?”

“Don't know.”

“Really?” I asked, finding that hard to believe—even I had an idea of who it was... but the fact that he didn't know made me question my own idea. “Because I thought it might have been Drew. Edge, I mean.”

“Where'd you learn that?”

“It was just something I picked up at Metedia.” I recalled.

The details were flighty. It was from a conversation somewhere. I thought back to the time we were frozen and Laza was speaking with Edge. That wasn't it. It was another time, somewhere before that, maybe. No... It was just my intuition.

“People act like they know everything. Don't listen to 'em. Just a word of advice, alright?” he pledged, asking me to make a promise with the way he leaned in.

“Okay.” I yielded, not much thought put into the idea of ignoring any warning.

Sure, no one knew anything, but fear was to blame, and we sure knew fear very well.

A pause...

Nirva's leafy ears flicked. I wasn't sure if it was because of the wind. They looked fragile, but acute in their purpose. He blinked, but he never looked away from me. Was he hiding... something?

“I think it'd be better to just make you into a Champion, so I don't have to say all of this. You could, y'know, understand Laza.”

I didn't breathe for a moment longer than I had anticipated. It nearly yanked a cough out of my chest. I didn't answer him with a word, because I knew he would skip forth anyway.

“I just wish it wasn't so difficult. If we change you, then... you're not really Laura anymore, are ya? I like Laura, too. She wants to be loyal to Laza on her own. No need for the change.”

The stone began to distort, reflecting fiery red, crimson eyes... I swallowed.

An epiphany. Danithan. He was still gone.

“Where's Danithan?” I found myself asking, growing cross.

I shocked myself into flight, hovering above my former seat. I didn't know why I asked the question. There was a gleam of light in the rock. It made me see a face I knew—not a human's face, but something called a quilava, a Pokémon I was with once...

“Who?” he feigned.

“Danithan. Nirva, where is he?!” I asserted, unknowing of my own aggression.

“I don't...-”

“Why is it that you showed up just when he went missing? And if you think people just come in go in this tiny town where everyone knows each other, then why is that... that 'thing' showing me his face?!” I ranted, pointing at the large, illuminating rock, giving me the impression of that Senior I knew, curled up with him only a night or so ago.

He became my refuge when all was lost. He was there for me when all was lost for him. We understood each other. It was like I... snapped out of it... whatever it could have been. I saw through the blinding light, finally.

Thunder and wind...

Nirva was faced away, trying to look into the stone to see what I saw. For whatever reason, I doubted he could do that.

“Like I... like I said,” he began, his throat unclear. “It all comes back to where it started. There's only one truth, and... it's there.”

He was talking to me, but looking at the rock.

“I beg your... what are you talking about?” I asked.

“I'm talking about the truth. You'll find the truth in time,” he paused, taking a few steps away from me. I lowered my head. I didn't see or care where he ended up. “This is where Laza came from. He came from this 'truth'. This truth is what's changing the world. But... I'm just a broken record now. I've said it already. The truth looks a little different to everyone. Right now, I guess it looks like this Danithan person to you. Once there's enough Gamma in this boring world, the truth will open up to everybody. Even me. That's why I need it to spread, so I can remember. So I can see what I need to see.”

“You wanna know what's real funny, Nirva?” I asked, genuine in speech, but at every end of every odd in my own mind. I closed my eyes and smiled, not out of happiness, but out of confusion.

“What's that...?” he answered me, skeptically slow.

“You told me not to listen to anyone, 'cause they didn't know anything. Now, you sound an awful like one of those people. You don't really know anything, do you?”

“Yeah, I... I guess I don't,” he sighed, defeated. “I look like a real clown, huh? That... sucks, Laura. I was hoping coming here would tell me a little more. Instead, this fragment just... told me to wait. Time. Time time time. It's always about time.”

“I don't think I need to tell you how important patience is.”

He didn't say anything to that, but by the squint of his eyes and the small frown on across his muzzle, he could retaliate any time he wanted. He looked at the rock, his stillness striking me with unrest.

...

“Lauraaaaa!” a young girl shouted, tumbling into the scene, tripping up and falling, sliding right up to the rear of Nirva's hind legs. Ericka, I thought to myself!

“Wh-?!” Nirva jumped, spinning quick.

Mouth wide, I saw three others bolt into the clearing. Derrick was among them. He froze when he saw Nirva. An orange, two-tailed weasel and a blue mouse ball were here as well. I was too frenzied to remember their names.

“Don't hurt her, you jerk!” Ericka cried out, hugging her arms around one of Nirva's legs.

“H-hey, get off'a me, ya little nut,” Nirva said, shaking his back leg, freeing himself of the plusle. “Sloppy! That was sloppy! I thought you were at least gonna be smart about an ambush or something.”

“Ambush?” I asked, addled.

Ericka was seated against an upright Derrick. The orange weasel was on his hind legs, hunched forward, ready to jump into an attack. I kept a close eye on him.

“Yeah, ambush,” Nirva confirmed. “I heard these guys comin' a mile away. You can't hide from a leafeon in a forest, morons. So, what, you wanted to fight? I knew you two'd follow me here.”

“We're not here to fight,” said the blue mouse, poised forward like his friends. “Otherwise we wouldn't have brought these two along. Laura, the Stand is worried about you.”

“The Stand... me?” I gasped, recalling the room I had spent days in, keeping safe, keeping secrets.

Davidson, John, Joel, Mariposa, Derrick, and Ericka. I had forgotten that I left them without saying a word. I sent my regards to these two other boys, but perhaps it... didn't go so well. I wasn't thinking straight. I was too fascinated with Laza, even for the Stand. I knew that, but still, I went ahead with it, because I had... nothing else. No family, no Zack, no choice... The Stand were my friends, but they couldn't replace...

“Yeah! We need you back with us, Laura. Danithan's gone, and... we don't want to lose you, too.” Ericka sniffled, her paws in her lap.

“Everyone was really starting to worry about Danithan already. When you went away, it got quiet in there.” Derrick added, one paw on his other's head, between her tall ears.

“Danithan's not..." Nirva whispered, sulking, looking away, as to keep others from hearing him.

“Guys, I wasn't gone that long. Besides, I told these two to let you know I'd be back in a little bit.” I clarified—honestly, why were they so worried? I was like less than a mile from the school.

“Y-yeah, we know, but... that Nirva guy...” Ericka whined.

“After watching Nirva hurt Edge, we didn't want you to get hurt either.” said the blue ball.

“Are you guys just completely stupid? Why would I hurt Laura? I had a reason for attacking Edge, okay? None of you would get it. While I am it, even I don't quite get it. But I'm about to.” Nirva foreboded, making a graceful leap up onto the tall stone, facing all five of us.

“N-Nirva? What are you doing?” I squeaked, tightening the grasp around my flower's stem. Dread loomed over me, disembodied wings. There was a promise of sorrow in the stone.

“Gonna crack this bad boy open!” he claimed, a blue vine emerging from the back of his neck, arcing into the air and swinging down.

“You're gonna what?! That's like solid rock—how do you expect to break something like that?!” the orange weasel said.

“I'm a grass-type, pipsqueak. Rocks aren't fond of grass, no matter how sturdy. Same reason you don't wanna mess with me. Now watch, and, hopefully, learn. If we get lucky, this might share some knowledge with you. Heh, maybe you'll all help me infect this sandbox of a planet after this!” Nirva yelled.

In his fluid temperament, a flash of courage or stupidity, he thrust his single vine into the rock, a loud grunt in tow. As he did this, the markings in his fur flickered a loud blue, remaining lit, growing longer across his body, until all of these runic lights connected. His vine began to do the same, glowing blue, until it became bright enough to see through, blue turning to white. Seams of bright blue lined the rock, as if it was about to burst.

“Hee-heeere we go! This is what I'm talkin' about! Really feelin' that Gamma now!” Nirva delighted. He sounded thrilled, but I couldn't take note of any expression beyond the gleam.

...

Negativity caught up to my hotheaded companion.

That gleam began to agitate all throughout the process, the conjoined objects. The seams of the stone became dim, then dark, draining all of the mystifying color from within. The cracks scarring across the giant rock became black, almost liquid with the way their light poured from the object. The rock was bleeding now, glowing black, a reverse light. Connected to that corrupted light was Nirva, who began to groan with apparent discomfort. The glistening black, faintly purple in its hue, spread into his vine, pulsing, traveling through it like fluid, a syringe, a bridge. The scene became dark enough to both witness and cringe upon. I saw that Nirva's eyes were closed. He wasn't standing anymore; instead, he was leaning over his front legs, his back legs still tall; a quadruped variant of doubling over. He was in pain.

“Wha-what... H-hang on, what are... you...?” he babbled. “What're you doing in there?”

I didn't know what I could do for him. He didn't call for help. Somehow, I knew that was unlike him. I watched, awaiting something dire, my heart thumping.

Nirva's vine was coated in blackish, purple light. It had already begun to crawl into his runic lines, his snowy fur shifting to a shady gray, the leaves on his body becoming cracked and withered, turning to a tarry black.

“Is, uh, that supposed to be happening?” Ericka asked.

“I-I don't think it is, Ericka.” the round mouse answered.

I could feel and hear my heartbeat.

“Laza...? Laza, Brother, it's me. It's Nirvaneon. What're you doing? I thought you were already out of... you're...” he spoke, broken up into fragments of dizziness, an intoxicated rant. “The... bell...? Aza...bell. Aza... I-I know... nothing? You know... nothing. You are not a Pokémon. You are not a Pokémon...”

As he mumbled, his voice became a shadow, one over another, like a single mouth with two separate means of speech.

“This... I... am Pokémon,” he, an unknown figure within my known stranger, spoke. “I am who we are at our core. Laza is... nothing. Gamma is... mine. The gift I will give you has slept overlong, but a bell has sounded for it to rise...

Or is its sleep simply being interrupted? It doesn't matter. Gamma is mine. I started this."

“Hehehehehe...” someone giggled, manic and shaky. I couldn't turn away, but the voice sounded like it belonged to the orange boy.

“Bry...?” another asked, fearing his friend.

“The walls,” Nirva's shadow began. “They are peeling back. I can return. I can change everything. I can... recolor...”

I was shivering, my jaw closed tighter than it has ever been. There was an aura of absolute final judgment, something at more of an end than myself, having lost everything there was to lose. It felt unfamiliar, like a side of a certain demigod that I didn't know enough of. Someone was speaking to Nirva, through Nirva, to the world.

“G-get out of Nirva,” I mouthed, seeping with too much fear to make a noise over the mystic hum of the darkened rock's transfer of undiscovered energies. “You're going to hurt him!”

“Because of Pokémon, I am, and all of you are mine. A demonstration,” the shade declared, calm, malevolent.

I gulped loudly and threw my tiny body at the crooked enormity, only catching a gust of wind before I choked on spit, the insides of my being thrown forward; I felt the heartbeat motions of swerving and stopping all within small frames.

Something was holding onto something of mine, having kept me from my advance. My flowery umbrella was nearly taken from my small hands. I turned, finding that the orange boy—Bryan—had latched both of his round paws onto the furthest petal of the flower. There was a sickly grin across his face, the bottoms of his eyelids lifted in glee. He began to tug, forcing me closer, his paws now on the stem.

“What are you doing?! Let GO!” I heaved, yanking my parasol away. It was futile. His grip was stronger than mine.

“It's so lonely being inside of me, Laura,” he called back, cackling “I don't want that!”

I stared at him. I stared at Bryan for what felt like minutes, though I knew the forest around me wasn't spinning quite that fast. The twisted air made the time pass that much faster. I couldn't believe him. I couldn't believe Bryan for what he was doing and Nirva for what he was relaying. It was too quick for me.

I didn't have the gall to strike back at this obstacle. I was pulled closer to Bryan until another called his name, wrapping stubby arms around his torso and squeezing. There was no added tug to the stem. Instead, the little round mouse wanted to stop his friend.

Mouth closed, I grunted, and gave a determined pull, uprooting the stem from his paws. When I did so, my shoulders ached loudly, something screeching inside of my mind, over and over. There was a wet rip. My head was crying inside. My parasol felt lighter. It felt so light that it nearly flew from my hands when I retrieved it. It... looked like part of it had.

My body was tingling now, itching within, scorching behind my eyes, drilling screams into my heart, shredding bone and sinew in my mind, heavy blood dripping off of the spade of my tail.

There was a recoil to Bryan's pull. He flew back with the blue mouse. In his paws was something large, disembodied, sporting five thick red petals. The green spine hung from its lifeless neck.

Watery vision found my half: a ripped stem bleeding with colorless sap, clear as tears. I opened my puny hands, laying it flat across them. Fast breaths left my open lips, as my hands twitched, slowly curling into small fists, clenching one half of a corpse.

My spirit was broken.

Something lurched for me, binding me until I couldn't breathe. I let it take hold. I didn't care. I let it do it's ill play. It was dark, irradiated, poisonous black. It bound my arms together, my hands stuck holding the stem.

It was Nirva. He constricted me, uncaring of my pain. He wasn't caressing—he was choking the life out of me, bleeding my body dry like the sap leaking from the veins of my stem. With his shady vine, now free from the stone, he held me in front of him. His eyes, however, remained closed.

“The truth harbors a thunderous voice that deafens those who listen closely. It cripples the strong and spurs the weak. It withers both into a heap of bottomless pathos,” he preached, the etchings in his fur shooting off into every direction, fading away, then shooting off again, haywire, haphazard, chaotic. “'Danithan'? This body is 'Danithan'. A vessel. A ship. Soulless.”

I took an achingly long look at Nirva's tainted face. I saw flashes of fire from the past. I saw bravery, idiocy, lunacy, comedy and tragedy. I saw yelling and cooing. The yelling was... for a girl called Katalyn. The cooing was for a girl called Laura.

The voice belonged to Danithan. Danny B, I called him. He was gone...

I bit my tongue and shivered, losing faith, losing hope. I sank. My body was growing heavier, shrinking away, chest emptying, all of the good spilling away, all of the images of smiles, embraces, and unity.

“This... is... a world of Laza,” said the blank-faced person holding me. “Forced reincarnation. Deterministic. An empty script. You follow him because he makes you. You chose nothing. You are a tool. Danithan is a tool. Even Nirvaneon is a tool...”

“No...” I cried...

“His world is lies, and truth is his shadow. I am that shadow. Become mine—my tool, my Gamma. His is false. He thought me alike, but he is nothing to me. My Gamma will spin this sorry world backwards until time becomes an illusion. We will devolve together.”

“Laza... lied?” I sniffled.

“Lied. Laza LIED,” the shadow screeched, spitting putrid words into me, filling me with silent anguish. “But I am no liar.”

I couldn't hear what the others were saying. I didn't care enough to listen...

“What are you...?” I moaned.

“I came before 'Laza'. I'm the first, and I'll be the last. The Sublimator. The Red Gamma. This... is the true nature of our kind under liquid starlight.”

A violent twitch. A sporadic pain in my back, a thorn of the black vine biting into me like an animal. I tried to scream, but I dry-heaved. The thorn dug deeper, the entry point in my back teeming with more life than with which my heart pumped. Thoughts raced to be the victor of an endless cycle. They melted into a brimming cesspool. I became sad...

The pain—the hurt caused me to wield broken tears.

He was sucking me dry. He was taking everything. He was taking Laura away, just like how Laza took Danithan away. I saw the truth with him. I saw it with the Sublimator.

“You have had a wonderful life, haven't you?” he asked me, expecting nothing of an answer from my noiseless yelps. “Not a thing went wrong for you until the Wave. You lost everything. Sad. Own it, then. It is yours. Your only motive is sadness. Hopelessness.”

...I stopped hearing a conscience...

I had one shoulder with one figure on it, and the figure was blanked out like a mosaic blur, censorship.

I was released. I fell. I didn't bother moving. Didn't want to... I wanted to die...

I dropped my stem. I sniffled. I put my arms ahead and tried to crawl. Nirva's blackened legs were in my way. Still on the rock. My arms were darker, shady, dirty.

I writhed and curled up. My lower body was red. Didn't care when it changed. Didn't want to care. Truth hurt. Didn't want to know. Wanted to die...

Couldn't think. Wanted to cry forever...

Hurt... So hurt, wanted to put it all away. Wanted... wanted... want. Became want. Nothing but want. Only want. Want want want...

Faded delusions. Blood-pulp pain. Sub-divine vision of an anti-deity. Follower, I was.

Make the world one state. One emotion. None other. No conflict. No worry. Wanted one and only one.

But right now, I wanted to die...

…

…

…

Bryan

“Bryan, where are you going?! Wait, come back!” Travis yelled. I was already running, taken to all fours, dashing through the undergrowth.

I had to go. I was being closed in again. The walls were squeezing me. I saw them squeeze Laura. Sublimator. Sublimator Sublimator Sublimator! I knew that name because it rang with a different chime in my head than any other word, even different than Edge or azabell. Red, he said. Why did he say it?! Was Red the color of the walls?! Was he the one responsible for the walls?!

I hurt Laura. I betrayed. I did it again. I ran away from the woodland.

The voices faded behind me. I left Travis alone for the first time. I didn't want to hurt him. Something inside of me wanted to break free. I was being conjured. I was never transformed into a buizel. I was never infected by the Wave I knew. I was lied to, but not just by Laza. I had to find it. I had to find where all the lies came from. Something physical. Someone physical. The source. The bell. Had to go. Had to turn and be the traitor, the singled-out. The outcast.

Through the arching trees. Their backs looked tired, but still they arched. Their leaves were always holding hands, forming that canopy, keeping us inside. Incubating.

All that work I had done to stay human meant nothing. Everything I had done for Travis and Atti was just a distraction for myself so that I couldn't break out of the walls. I saw the truth, and the truth was as black as a the shadows cast upon me by my own walls.

Rapid footsteps. Sharp rocks into my paws.

I nearly stopped at two more figures. One was white and green, the other blue, black, and yellow. Maya and Al. Here? I swerve, sloppy, kicking up dirt, screaming at them not to follow, to go away, to turn around...

…

…

…

Al

“Bryan?!” I gasped, stopping cold to face the guy.

But he was running from some serious shit somewhere, and he didn't stop to tell us about it. I swear I saw a blur of orange behind him as he passed by.

“Don't, don't! Go—don't follow—go, go!” he shouted, so quickly it registered as pure gibberish.

It didn't help that he didn't look back to say that to us. I'd hoped Maya picked it up better than I had. She seemed like the mind reader type. Y'know, maybe I didn't want to know what was going on inside of Bryan's head. Or maybe he was being chased by authorities. I was bound to go ahead and switch that second guess to the most likely of events—I was forgetting how much of a threat the men in dark were.

Maya and I stood there contemplating what might have been the source of his problems. She spoke to me before I had a chance to really register what just happened.

“Alphonse, maybe it'd be best to catch up to your friend? That is your friend, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, that's uh... right, I'll try and do that. Travis wasn't with him though.” I noted. I actually just said it at the same time I thought it: Trav wasn't with Bryan. There was a first.

“Duly regarded. This means that I must part ways with you.” she said, hasty.

I heard some footsteps, but they only really came off as shuffling, maybe some awkward walking back and forth while I figured out what could've been the problem were it not authorities, who would've been right on his tail if he...

I stood facing the direction he ran off in. There was a bend up ahead. It led to Orion Avenue. He must've gone there.

I thought briefly...

“Wait, Maya, didn't you say you wanted Bryan AND Tra-”

I turned around mid-query. Maya was gone, a phantom in the woods. My tail dropped to the ground. She was too quiet for me all along then. Yeah, she did always strike me as that type, but damn, woman, you were hella quiet to get away from me that easily. Your legs—what were you, a gardevoir?—your legs were small, but not small enough to make no noise in dirt. Hey, I had killer ears as this shinx thing. Plus, I was pretty low to the ground, too! I could... could...

Welp. On my own again.

Maya needed Travis for something. She did always sort of look out for those guys. Maybe she lost her kid or kids in the infection and just wanted to be a good mom for who was left. I respected that, but damn if she wasn't a little coocoo in the head. Why was she so secretive about things? She knew Bryan and I were buddies. Why in the heck would she want us to split up? Well, maybe it had something to do with what Edge called 'psychic-type prowess'. She knew this was going to happen, eh? She knew I would've had to chase Bryan (again, kind of) so that she could get Trav back. 'The shit were they after again? Laura. Slipped my mind completely.

Well, alright, fine. I turned my confused hind around and gave a steady chase to the weirdo who called himself Bryzel—yeah, wait, I called him that. He didn't like it. It was kinda like how he didn't like me pointing out his potential relationship with Travis. Wait, that was Topher who did that. I would'a whistled for the two lovebirds, but I stopped doing that after I bit my lip with my fangs.

I was crazy distracted today. Maybe I was just excited to have gotten out of the Grove alive. Or to have seen my dad have some kind of change of heart. His words were growing on me. Yeah, they still pissed me off some, but it was a good piss. Off. A good piss-off. I dunno—I was warming up to the idea of the authorities leaving. Kinda bittersweet, but I had this butterfly-filled feeling that he would'a come back to me as a Pokémon, too.

Figuring out the dish Bryan had in front of him was the first step in getting Dad back. Getting to the hospital and seeing Cruce snoozin' was the second step. One path at a time.

…

I got through the woods. There was a flash of lightning out in the open of Orion Avenue. This place still stank like wet wounds. The coming rainfall wasn't bound to help it all. We weren't used to the rain all that much. Seeing it felt a little out of place, especially in this quantity. But hey, we had some wet winters, so that made sense. Winter was right around the corner. Now, if only Bryan could'a been right around a corner, things would have gone smoother.

Nah, not so—I was searching the streets for a while. I kept to the cracked sidewalks. I ran these bad boys up and down all this month, chasing authorities, running from them, biting at their heels and giving them a shock to remember. Lot of memories forged here, lot of stuff put to rest. If I had a choice, I'd probably be buried somewhere between here and the spot the Circle liked to hang out.

This place was a junkyard now. There were ruined, burnt out cars littering the streets. Fallen trees, house rubble, scorched rubber and earth, and sorry promises... Man, it stank like hell out here. The houses that were still standing didn't look too good themselves either. A lot of 'em were boarded like they'd been days, weeks, probably a month ago now. No one wanted to be kidnapped. I stopped to think how many of these houses still had their hungry owners hiding in 'em.

Something wet fell onto my back. My ears flicked. I smelled rainwater mixing with the cold oil and the coagulated blood. Thunder echoed somewhere far. I missed the flash that came before it.

I moved through the scraps and heaps of broken carnage that madmen brought to the streets of a once beloved neighborhood where kids got to play on the streets without a worry in the world, everyone pretty much had a white picket fence, and not a person was a stranger. It was pretty sad.

I walked through time, looking back at the better moments. I pictured blurry shadows of gray walking beside me, cars driving by, people tending to their front lawns, the smell of barbecue, charcoal...

Then, I blinked, and I found the future again. Wasteland, I saw. I couldn't get away from it no matter how much I wanted to think getting away from the bad guys did it all for me—like, really did it all. I thought besting those stupid authorities made all the difference, made me the hero...

Nope. Whenever I came back, this was what it was to: desolation. This was what I used to call home and, honestly, what I still did. The humans may have left us, but they left us with one monster of a mess to clean up. I expected it to look a little like the Grove when we were all done, and then I couldn't call it Autumnridge anymore, and I couldn't play rugby, be with the team, have parties the same way. I wanted my face back, man...

I stopped looking ahead and just let my sorry-ass gaze hit the damp ground. Two feet in front of the other two, Al. That was all you could do. 'Sides the electric shit. That was cool.

I was far up the Orion hill now. I wasn't even on the right path anymore, and heck, Bryan was long gone by now. I got a little lost in the memories, a little distracted. I guess I betrayed the Circle again, in that sense. I wanted it all back so badly that I couldn't act to get it back. I knew some deep despair then. Was a real cock-block, that despair.

All I had walking with me was rainfall, making noise the same way my footsteps always did in this damn body: rapid, pattering, fast...

It took me from the noise on the streets. Commotion, I thought. I heard it before I thought anything of it. I looked up and saw a battlefield, bodies leaking black and red, lifeless and still, all laying near one another. There were still two bodies standing amidst them all, but I couldn't tell if they were alive.

Both of them looked very familiar.

But they smelled like something I've never smelled before.

No, I... I have...

It was a girl and a man. The man was wearing a uniform drenched in his own blood, maybe some of his squad's, maybe some of the girl's. There was a dead dog at his side—it looked like a German Shepard. My dog...? I had a dog like that. Seeing it lay on its side with its legs out, stiff as stone, hurt my heart.

The man was empty handed, dripping with fluids, fingers clenched around nothing but undead air. The more I looked, the wider my jaw became.

The girl was very close to the man. She was pale, with orange eyes burning through the gray rain, smoky black hair choking her bloody scarf, purple sweater, black pants and boots. She was holding something through the man, sharp, pulsing with neon red veins in its black, crystalline blades. Near its base, in front of the man's impaled chest, were two blades similar. A bladed cross...?

And... the man...

He had hair like I used to.

“Wh-...” I gasped, loud enough to be heard by both of them.

The man's neck creaked. He turned slowly. There was blackness in his eyes, but I knew him well enough, even with the blood pouring from his mouth. He said nothing to me.

The girl removed the cross-shaped weapon from him, her boot against his ravaged chest, pushing away. In that moment, he was gone, flailing to the ground, landing atop the dog. A dark red mist decorated the foggy rain. His arms duplicated the shape of his assailant's weapon. He was crucified. I saw his eyes glisten. They were still open, rainfall creating or hiding tears for him.

“Dad?” I groaned, voice breaking like leaves withering, browning.

The girl waited over the body, looking at it, the cross spear held in one hand by her side, blasé, empty of heart, among a field of corpses, authorities...

When she faced me, her amber eyes left a trail of their color in the dark of the air.

I looked at her cross. It hurt. Just looking at it made my eyes feel like they were bleeding lava. My ribs ached. My head felt like it was going to explode. My breaths became quick and easy to choke on.

“D-Da... DAD?!” I yelled, blood-curdling.

I ran to the young cemetery. I shook, keeping myself as far as I could from the girl—from Katalyn Valentine. I wanted to keep my eyes on her, like she had promised with her own gaze. I had to look closer. I had to see my dad again. He was here, with our dog, his partner in crime. I couldn't... do that. But I could now! I could've done that now...

“Dad... wake up...? Hey, what...” I murmured, placing a leg against his side, pushing.

I pushed, pushed again, pushed yet again.

"Hey...?" I said. "Dad, I..."

I can still be your partner, Dad. Like Eta. I-I would be a better police dog than Eta, and I'm not even a dog.

Why didn't you give that a chance? O-o-oh yeah... You would've become another victim.

Was that really so bad...?

Dad, don't...

There was such a tremendous hole in his chest, through all of that prestige, that uniform. It wasn't as red up close as I thought it would be. It was just black, rotten, yet somehow glistening.

“I told them not to get in the way. What do they do? Get in the way.” said 'Valentine'.

I returned the promised gaze, teeth squeezing together, nearly grinding. My eyes and mouth were wide and I was breathing like a maniac. I couldn't even explain the expression. It didn't look like I was mad or sad. It looked like I was just ready to go...

...FUCKING CRAZY NOW!

“Go away, Al,” she said, just like THAT. “They were trying to kill me. You don't need to try that, too. Just... forget what you saw, and go back to the Circle.”

“Fuck YOU,” I screamed. “You murderer! You piece of shit murderer!”

“I'm...” she stopped.

“You're dead, you're dead, YOU'RE DEAD!” I stomped, cheeks hot with boiling tears.

The entire length of her blade was upchucking black mist into the rain as it had done with the grievous wound of my father. She sighed loudly and lifted it above her head, put two hands on the hilt of the monstrous weapon, and pointed it forward. Her front leg swept the ground, moving forward. The other bent behind her—deadly stance.

“You never seemed like you wanted to be a Pokémon,” she said. “I won't kill you, but I'll kick your ass and rip your guts out, then I'll hand you over to Scion... Sorry, Al.”

“STOP—AAAGHHH—STOP TALKING! STOP IT!” I cried out, stepping back, the ground and everything beneath it trembling beneath my feet. The quake was in my head, shaking everything upside down, this feeling filling every inch of a body too small to hold it.

“You need to see everything. You need to see what I've seen, then death'll stop looking so bad.”

I wanted to scream at her until my lungs ruptured.

I kept stepping back, the puddles growing deeper, splashes louder, rainstorm heavier.

I put my head high, lifted my tail, and fulfilled my desire. I screamed, but the thunder quieted me. I was struck with something bright, too bright, so bright that I could taste the energy. It stung like fire, but part of me absorbed it like it was something savory, juicy, a prey.

It lasted a second, but came in flicks, one, two, three. I took it in. My body drank it. I felt a change, bones moving, skin expanding, fur coordinating with the shift. It was a different change than the one Laza gave me. It didn't hurt. It was the most natural thing I've felt in a long, long time.

The lightning cleared, but it stayed with me, somewhere inside.

I was taller now, with more of a black mane than before. There were yellow sparks swerving around me. My jaw felt stronger, my legs larger, my insides rebuilt, reinforced, strengthened.

I was eclipsed again.

I had evolved, and with it, I got further from my old face.

I got it now. There was no turning back. I was in this until the very end—in this body. I might as well have made a RIOT with it, and I DID THAT!

“YOU DON'T SCARE ME KATALYN!” I roared old words, voice deeper, reminiscent of my long-gone one. I was refreshed, reborn again.

“We're all monsters now. C'MON, what are you WAITING FOR?!” she erupted, bursting forth, inhuman, more so than I ever could be. She was just a ghost now, just like everyone else I knew.

The thunder clamored like a crowd, the rain the applause.

…

…

…

Edge

“It's getting noisy out there,” the electric squirrel murmured. “Glad you kids made it here alright.”

“Gibsy,” Topher mewed. “You're so cute! When did you transform?”

He didn't answer. I could tell through his yellow patches that he was blushing. He was smiling though, so it looked okay.

“A pachirisu,” I introduced his kind. “Gibson, you're looking well. How's your wife?”

“Ah, Janey's okay,” he replied, turning his head to an angle and looking back through a hallway, albeit still facing the three of us. “She's still worried about you guys though. Still not the best, ya know. Our son's still asleep. How's that going between you two?”

“I—uhm... Not... fast.” Topher answered, embarrassed. I felt the same way, but I failed to show it.

I didn't say a word. Cruce's case was a puzzle. I stood blankly, arms behind my back. I wasn't expecting the chespin behind me to say a word on behalf of our trump card human. Honestly, I was beginning to doubt that he was the answer, but he felt too different to be ignored. Different, yes.

“Aww, drats,” Gibson shrugged, pulling his head back, resting it on his large tail—larger than mine, even. “I thought we may have been getting somewhere. Well, I won't blame you guys. You're doing more than I ever could.”

“Not so, Gibson,” I retaliated. “You're a Pokémon now. You have a great power within you. I think you should use that to its fullest ability and grow alongside it.”

“Hm? Edgy, you're okay with this? Normally, wouldn't you be sorta angry Laza reached my uncle?” Topher asked, referring of course to the number four seventeen before us.

I froze. What did he just say? Did he believe me any less concerned for Laza's influence? Was I being doubted?

Oh... Why did I feel this way? Why did I feel like I was wrong about something? Perhaps Topher was right—yes, I... was out of my head there, wasn't I?

What was my head doing?! Was it betraying me?! I was supposed to hate Laza! Nothing else! There was no ROOM for anything else in there but hatred for Laza and concern for those who he had so woefully destroyed. Yes yes, give me that hate! Don't lose control just yet!

I took a deep breath.

“That fiend has marked this man. I can't forgive him, but even I realize that there are advantages that a Pokémon has over a human. I just wish that Laza wouldn't force your humanity away.” I said.

“Oh, hahah, well, Edge,” Gibson chuckled. “I chose this myself, actually! The wifey was getting lonely being a... uh meowstic? I couldn't ignore her. That felt more inhuman than anything, so... heh, need I go on?”

“I see...” I sighed...

“Awww, Gibsy, you're such a boss husband.” Topher cooed, crawling up to his uncle and pressing his nose into the giant of a tail which Gibson wielded so well.

“Yeah, I know. You'll draw one in like me, Ashley. Keep doing that charmy thing, and you'll have yourself a boy who can't let go of you,” he paused, making a wide mouth, straight as a line without an imperfection. “What am I saying? I'm a dad. Don't mess with boys—they're like monkeys.”

“Hehehe, that's a tall order.” said the shaymin.

“I'm not a monkey...” said the chespin.

“Well, anywhats and whens, you're home. Stay for a while. Say hi to your aunt, why don't'cha?” the pachirisu suggested.

“Uh-huh, gonna go do that now,” Topher nodded. He faced us. “You two should get comfy. I wanna see my auntie, then I'll invite you over to my room. I just... heh, I'll be back!”

He left us with that, walking down the wooden floored hallway all the way to where it turned a right angle. Topher disappeared after that. I heard some voices in the back. It was too personal for my ears to continue listening to.

I looked at Atti, then at Gibson. No one said a thing. We knew nothing about one another. How sad. Atti claimed he knew me.

I so wondered what Topher was talking about. What was in his room?

Hm. Interesting. It wasn't like that shaymin to keep secrets. Well, perhaps it was bound to leave the realm of secrecy. He appeared eager to bring us to his domain. Quite enrapturing.

A sense of painful dread.

Atti, my friend, did you not just feel that as well?

Gibson, my acquaintance, were you at ease?

I myself happened to be feeling more under the weather than what I was comfortable with.

Topher told the two of us to bring him to his house. He was worried he couldn't do it on his own. I blame him little, if at all.

Ah, it feels so divine. I'm thinking much more clearly than before, but for some reason, I still find myself obsessing about Laza.

Still, I analyze more efficiently. I see more things. I can make more rational decisions. I must owe my thanks to Drew's mother. Perhaps even Caden. Most certainly Atticus.

Should I be thanking Celebi?

Mmm... I have divulged too much of my thought. Laza could be anywhere, watching my mind.

I must swallow these thoughts.

Description
Part 5: The Circle
Chapter 29: Second Scion

Edge

“Do you remember anything about Caden?” the chespin asked me.

He was seated across from me, but I could feel his breath as though he was close, the question sour to my nostrils and sore to my eardrums. That name drilled itself into my head like a piece of hollow metal.

“Victini, yes?” I stalled.

“Uh, yeah.”

He knew what Caden was. We talked prior. The library was unlike that previous setting. It was lonely, with but he and I in a warm corner, sharing stories. I liked Atti. He was a quiet person, allowing me to think about the things I needed to do to save this world, rather than asking me about it. I didn't want to answer anything about my past. I had no past. I was here, living in the now. Caden constantly reminded me of that past. I needed him out of the way, but I wasn't about to harm anyone. No. I wanted him here so that I could have him explain himself to me, then never have to deal with him again.

“Well?” he pursued.

We weren't alone, Atti and I. There were others here. Topher, Lucia, and... my 'mother', for what that was worth. I didn't want this question in my mind, presenting itself to me; a shard of glass stuck in the folds of a broken azabell's head.

“I don't remember him well.” I said.

“But he was your best friend,” Atti squealed. “You remember your mom, right?”

“I haven't... the slightest clue where your going with this, Atti.”

“It's so wrong that Laza did that to you.” he sighed, taking a much preferred path.

I didn't agree with him aloud. I hadn't the need to, but his change of direction certainly relieved me. I was growing exhausted of the attention. I was nobody important, yet nobody understood this. How could someone such as myself, filled with so much malice, such great avarice, be so important? No, that wasn't true. I had three goals: wake up Cruce, defeat Laza, save this world. Any friends I made on that path were... nice. Simply nice.

And Laza would have lectured me otherwise. I was tired of hearing his voice in my head before it made even a peep of a sound. Sick espeon.

“Do you think he's gonna do that to Laura?” Atti asked, leaning forward, grabbing the bottoms of his feet with his paws.

“If Laura stays with that tyrant...” I paused, thinking back to the six-seventy. Number six-seventy, a floette. That was all they were to Laza. Numbers, waiting to be applied to an equation, manipulated algebraically to his liking, his making. He didn't even know what his promise of happiness was. He was the worst kind of liar there was.

I let the tension build inside. I left the statement open. It was obvious. Laura was going to meet a fate more sinister than death under Laza's control. What was worse was that he had Rinavay now.

If he had Rinavay, he had the others. His Champions, a congregation of fascists.

I remembered them now.

“Never mind that,” I shook my head, flicking my tail over my waist, plucking at the fluff that bothered me, the dirt left from that leafeon. “What's it like having Bryan?”

“Bryan? He's a good bro, I guess. He's kind of a weirdo a lot of the time, but now he's all serious.” he answered.

“Why?”

“He misses Charley.”

“Charley? Who's Charley?”

“Our dad.”

I blinked, being given a human's image—a man, blank in his face, touched with a voice too jagged to ignore.

“We don't talk about him a lot, but I know my brother misses him.” he continued.

“What... is he like?”

“Kinda fun,” he smiled, shallow enough in the light to miss. “He's really, really friendly. He's actually my step-dad. I couldn't ever call him Dad, though. That's why I call him Charley. I don't think he likes that. Mama told me it made him feel like a failure. But it's so hard. I don't think anyone can replace my old dad.”

“I suppose I... understand what you mean.” I shuffled, my rear uncomfortable against the fabric of the chair. I froze when I heard my bell jingle.

No one could replace his old dad, he said.

The longer I spent in this world, being this strange person I was, the longer the list of failed replacements became. There were no replacements anymore; rather, there were representatives of ideas, of faces long forgotten. This was what Laza wanted, though. He wanted to erase everyone and rebirth them just a little bit better. His definition of the word 'better' couldn't be found in a glossary. It was nonsensical.

Atti missed his father, but he still couldn't call that father 'Dad'.

Maybe I was... the same. Maybe I missed everyone. I would have missed my friend Caden, who I couldn't call my friend anymore. I would have missed my mother... I would have missed calling my mother 'Mom'.

I missed my brother, who I could only call a sister who loved someone named Drew. I couldn't call myself Drew anymore. Celebi loved Drew. So, I felt nothing for them. Any of them.

The very least I could do right now was wish Bryan the best of luck in saving Laura. I couldn't dwell on the idea of her becoming like Rinavay, or worse. Surely—most surely—Laura was smart enough to know that Laza was only leading her body to a grave so that he could get at the spirit; but, Laura was of the Stand, and... the Stand followed Laza.

Ever since... I removed the bell...

I'd hated him less.

But I still hated the idea that he existed, ever did exist, and will continue to exist for me to hate him.

“Atticus? Edge?” someone chirped, feminine and flowery. I crossed my legs and leaned forward, paws in my lap, looking over the edge of the chair to see the shaymin smiling back up at me.

I didn't offer an oral response.

“I have a little escort mission for you boys.” he said, thrilled.

I thought before speaking—I couldn't help but notice the attention I appeared to be drawing from the charizard, an unsettling number six, too accustomed to his body for an ex-human... Interesting. Anyway...

Topher. Someone I never understood. I talked with him, peered into his mind and saw his world. I saw his sadness, a ghost of fog, damp against the grass on his back. I knew his ordeal, faced with a body, a frame, upon a bed, with no spirit or mind to accompany it. I was told that I, as someone I never thought I could be, was the same as him—as Cruce.

I talked to him, fanned through his mind, stroked his conscience, searching for answers of Cruce the only way I knew how. It was the way I was taught. I had to be Gamma.

The only problem was that... Topher, too, was Gamma.

I was wrong about you, Topher. You have little to nothing to do with Laza's spread of Gamma. You have a different Gamma inside of you—one I have seen before. But I feel... that it shouldn't be here...

...I... feel... eyes... again. Telling me how to think. Telling me how to feel. When the bell came off, those feelings went away.

Perhaps I don't need this bell.

Later. Where to, Topher?

…

-PERIOD-TWO

Bryan

…

The sky bellowed again, thunder shattering the crystalline outline of the clouds behind a solemn sun, uncertain of its path.

With my eyes to the gray and orange skies, I led, or had once led, this small makeshift team across the dangers of Autumnridge's streets, once hot, now cooled, like solid magma. We were walking on brown leaves, dust, and ash now, the shroud of the woods at its fullest. The deeper we went, the less familiar the woodland seemed, as it should have always been. It was a stranger, even as it was masked with the scent of the Grove, so pure and fresh.

Travis was just behind me, chatting with Derrick. Ericka was running ahead, searching for woodland trinkets—sticks and leaves and the like. She had formed a fan out of dead, autumn leaves. With no thumbs to grasp the item and keep it together, she had to squeeze it between both of her red paws. The motion of her fanning herself with air kept a smirk on my face.

And the thought of her being a piece of Derrick kept the gears in my head spinning.

That's right. They just keep on spinning, don't they, Bryan? Hehehehe!

A flash of pain, lancing my temples, echoing into my forehead. I stopped, stood up on my hind legs, and smacked a paw against the side of my head.

“Ngh,” I grunted, shutting both eyes. “I-I uh...”

Everyone else stopped a second or two later. Ericka, holding the leafy fan in front of her, peeked from behind it, her mouth a tiny hole of curiosity.

“Bry?” Travis chimed in from behind.

“No, it's...” I coughed, a quick response. “It's fine; I-I-I'm fine.”

No one said anything. No one moved.

How much do I have to laugh until you hear me through your own lips?! You're so inconSIDERATE! But it's okay. Outcasts like yourself are all the same. Hehehe!

“What?” I said, clenching my teeth and my head between both paws now.

“That sounds like not-fine.” Ericka poked.

I gave her a sharper look than I wanted. She frowned at that. My intentions weren't as cold as my gaze. I just didn't want anyone to talk about it. They didn't this right now. We were all too busy.

“Don't worry. Just a little head-rush.” I lied.

“Do you want to stop by the river and cool off? It's not that far.” Travis suggested, the slightest hint of a whimper dripping from his lips.

“Nah, I'm good. Really. Stuff just... caught up to me, is all. C'mon, I think we're getting close to... wherever we gotta be.” I said...

The woodland was our destination. The woodland was also very large. I only knew that we were going into a labyrinth to search for someone that I couldn't mistake anymore. That much was easy. The hard part was finding anyone else in the thick of sylvan ghosts.

“I figure they didn't get very far if they entered from the same spot we went in.” Travis claimed, lifting his focus, searching the trees.

I did the same as him. I looked up. There was no reason to, but the way the wind painted streaks of transparency against the leaves, creating sounds of whistles and air late to the ground, enraptured me, like the answer was there.

Then, I looked down. I looked at one of my paws, finding a resemblance to a branch above from one in the past. It was the same that injured my palm, cutting a gash clean through the lines, like it already belonged. That wound was gone. It went away when I changed, and there was no trace of it left over, without regards to the stain it may have left on the wood near the riverbank.

A spark lit the universe.

Derrick gasped.

I felt something soft at my side, at first with enough room to move my own arms, then closer, and then closer yet again, until I could see blue ear-tips in my peripherals.

There was a boom, grumbling beyond the clouds.

“What?! Derrick! Are you serious?” Ericka mocked, dropping her leafy fan.

The leaves parted from one another, going their own ways, yet all coming to a stop at the same spot, the same ground.

“Wha...?” Derrick mumbled.

“You're afraid of lightning? But... you and I are lightning!” she exclaimed, more concerned than ridiculing.

I turned my head to the—what was it... minun?—I turned to him. He was glued against my left arm.

“It's just that... th-th-there's a flash, and... I don't need to explain myself!” he said.

“If it makes you feel any better, Travis and Bryan would die if they got hit by lightning.” Ericka... comforted?

“But then what do we do with the bodies?” Derrick asked.

“Guys? Really not helping.” Travis stuttered.

I moved from my spot. I felt the weight of Derrick's small body follow me for an inch. He must have stumbled, having been leaning against me. Taking to all fours, I came across the dirt trail, connecting one end of the woodland to the other, spanning miles of no one's territory. It met all of the greatest mysteries I knew as a child, from the bell tower to the obsidian circle, the mountains to nowhere and the old sewer. That was where I came from—where Bryan found his home in imagination and his solace in fancy.

We were closest to the obsidian circle. I looked to the east, where the dirt trail meandered beneath an arched canopy, trees sagging forward, holding out widespread arms, a passage to the past as far as a distant bend took it. I went there, with my nose closer to the dirt than I'd once wanted. Now, I was elated to capture any scents I could by doing so, and the most relevant of which were hot against my entire face. Smoke, chemicals, something beyond my creativity to express. Something that thought alongside me...

I must have been on the trail of something Edge called Gamma. It had a means of being sensed unlike any other element. There was a color it gave that didn't fit the world. There was a scent it emitted that made you want to clean yourself of any outside germs, any tiny particle other than Gamma that may have stuck to you in any process whatsoever.

I had this feeling once before. I was with Travis when it happened. Once, I was human. Then, I wasn't, as I passed into a new reality. That reality had a name. It was called the Grove.

The others spoke behind me, saying my name. I heard their footsteps after answering with my own. It was all they needed to know. I went forward, and they did, too, following closely.

There was a portion of overgrowth that gave way to damage, to wet mud, an outsider of trails inside of the maze. This stray trail wandered from the dry dirt, cleanly lashed and groomed, as if someone had come through here with a machete. I recalled a thought I once had while exploring this place.

I stopped before the mud trail, knowing of course where it ended. It ended with a group of seven, once nine, seated in a circle on stones, checking for updates on technology, talking with one another, never too serious. There were voices—there were always voices in there. It was where I had left my head a lot, laying in bed on my side with my eyes open, brought back to the guy sitting next to me and the girl seated next to him, looking at that flat-cut slab of rock in the middle of the arrangement, or whatever it was.

These were different voices. They were full of exasperated breaths and troubled expressions, unlike the days spent with the Circle. There were only two voices in the undergrowth, the clearing that we called a place... to hang. To crash. To live life as stupid kids, for what it was worth.

It was nice. It didn't have any walls. I could leave at any time.

And that was what I did.

Once. No more. I walked into the mud, following the nauseatingly powerful scent of Gamma. The voices got louder. They were bickering, one with more verbosity than the other, one more powerful than the other, neither of them convincing to my ears, but into my head they drilled nonetheless.

Not a single of us said a word as we approached.

…

…

…

Laura

“A Champion?” I kissed, gasping, holding the stem of my parasol tight.

My handsome, impulsive companion was seated, comfortable against the soil, with his head raised to an object that didn't understand me as much as the cones and rods behind my eyes could understand it. I grew dizzy looking at it, the shimmering colossus of a stone poised so mysteriously into another, radiant, without a red or a green or a blue to be called home. It was of its own tinge.

“That's us,” he said, giving the giant stone his attention. “We're from there: a place called Gamma.”

“A place,” I whispered, watching the rock glow. “But I thought it was... like some kind of energy.”

“It is. Gamma's everything, Laura,” he looked to me. “It's everything a brain wants it to be. And one brain wanted it to be Laza, then Laza wanted me to be Nirva. It's the same with you. Laza wants you to be his faithful follower.”

“I do follow Laza. I respect him, too, but I don't understand him well enough.”

“We should fix that. Might as well know the espeon who calls the shots,” he took a deep breath, lifting himself from his rear and taking a short, serene walk around the rock, observing it from all angles. “I won't spoil everything for you, since it's a lot to think about. You should get comfy though. Kick your tail up. Relax.” he informed.

I did so, watching him until he watched me, a smile crossing his beautifully carved muzzle. I obliged, lowering myself to an obsidian stone beneath me, slow, until my tail draped over its edge.

“'Atta girl,” he applauded, finishing his full circle around the occult rock. “You know what? I don't remember everything. Laza's smart though. If he's gonna help me remember something, he helped me remember the essentials. He has to spread his Gamma. The more he does, the more I remember, the more people get his blessing. Good game, right? Sure, there's probably a bit of leftover loyalty in my head that he wanted me to have. I'm okay with that.”

“So how does Gamma spread? I know it's the Pokémon infection, but... that's all.”

“It's that,” he nodded. “It's like an infection. Key word: like. It spreads to people who have absorbed Gamma in some way. At first, it's real weak—y'know, it needs to spread through contact. Then, it'll get into your head through vibrations. So, sound. Then—and it's not quite here yet—it'll spread through sight. Again, the more people who have Laza's Gamma crawling around inside of them will just spread it for him. Soon enough, it'll spread through thought, then land. Before you know it, the world looks a lot like one better suited for us Pokémon.”

“Laza literally wants to change the world...” I marveled.

“Bingo. There are some complications—like, adults take longer to infect than children, some a lot longer than others. It's something about the maturity of the brain... Or, like, you can't really be infected by the infected land. That's impossible. It's gotta be through another sentient being capable of general intellect on par with your own, 'less the land's got a brain in it... Anyway, That'll rule out the feral wildlife. So, yeah, no animals get to be Pokémon.”

“Animals can't get transformed, but the land can?”

“Yeah. Laza can't do that himself. He needs Edge for it. Something in that bell... Hey, remember what Xima told us?”

“I do,” I confirmed. “She said that the bell is dangerous.”

“Hm, I wonder why. I need the bell to help out Laza a bit more. Personal opinion here: I'd like to see the land get a makeover. Not the prettiest forest, I think. Could use some more green.”

I giggled, growing nervous. I wondered if he knew about the seasons here. Winter was on its way, so, naturally the woodland was going to start shedding its color very soon.

“Hah, damn, see—I wish I remembered more. I was a researcher... I studied Gamma for years, but when you forget all of your work like that, it's just a bit of a thorn in the old side,” Nirva sulked. “Weeeell, whatever. It's not so bad.”

“I'm sorry you can't remember, but the more we spread this stuff to other people, the more you can remember?”

“That's right. Gamma builds on itself. It all comes back to the place it started. Who got the first dosage of Gamma? Easy. Laza's host did.”

“Who is Laza's host?”

“Don't know.”

“Really?” I asked, finding that hard to believe—even I had an idea of who it was... but the fact that he didn't know made me question my own idea. “Because I thought it might have been Drew. Edge, I mean.”

“Where'd you learn that?”

“It was just something I picked up at Metedia.” I recalled.

The details were flighty. It was from a conversation somewhere. I thought back to the time we were frozen and Laza was speaking with Edge. That wasn't it. It was another time, somewhere before that, maybe. No... It was just my intuition.

“People act like they know everything. Don't listen to 'em. Just a word of advice, alright?” he pledged, asking me to make a promise with the way he leaned in.

“Okay.” I yielded, not much thought put into the idea of ignoring any warning.

Sure, no one knew anything, but fear was to blame, and we sure knew fear very well.

A pause...

Nirva's leafy ears flicked. I wasn't sure if it was because of the wind. They looked fragile, but acute in their purpose. He blinked, but he never looked away from me. Was he hiding... something?

“I think it'd be better to just make you into a Champion, so I don't have to say all of this. You could, y'know, understand Laza.”

I didn't breathe for a moment longer than I had anticipated. It nearly yanked a cough out of my chest. I didn't answer him with a word, because I knew he would skip forth anyway.

“I just wish it wasn't so difficult. If we change you, then... you're not really Laura anymore, are ya? I like Laura, too. She wants to be loyal to Laza on her own. No need for the change.”

The stone began to distort, reflecting fiery red, crimson eyes... I swallowed.

An epiphany. Danithan. He was still gone.

“Where's Danithan?” I found myself asking, growing cross.

I shocked myself into flight, hovering above my former seat. I didn't know why I asked the question. There was a gleam of light in the rock. It made me see a face I knew—not a human's face, but something called a quilava, a Pokémon I was with once...

“Who?” he feigned.

“Danithan. Nirva, where is he?!” I asserted, unknowing of my own aggression.

“I don't...-”

“Why is it that you showed up just when he went missing? And if you think people just come in go in this tiny town where everyone knows each other, then why is that... that 'thing' showing me his face?!” I ranted, pointing at the large, illuminating rock, giving me the impression of that Senior I knew, curled up with him only a night or so ago.

He became my refuge when all was lost. He was there for me when all was lost for him. We understood each other. It was like I... snapped out of it... whatever it could have been. I saw through the blinding light, finally.

Thunder and wind...

Nirva was faced away, trying to look into the stone to see what I saw. For whatever reason, I doubted he could do that.

“Like I... like I said,” he began, his throat unclear. “It all comes back to where it started. There's only one truth, and... it's there.”

He was talking to me, but looking at the rock.

“I beg your... what are you talking about?” I asked.

“I'm talking about the truth. You'll find the truth in time,” he paused, taking a few steps away from me. I lowered my head. I didn't see or care where he ended up. “This is where Laza came from. He came from this 'truth'. This truth is what's changing the world. But... I'm just a broken record now. I've said it already. The truth looks a little different to everyone. Right now, I guess it looks like this Danithan person to you. Once there's enough Gamma in this boring world, the truth will open up to everybody. Even me. That's why I need it to spread, so I can remember. So I can see what I need to see.”

“You wanna know what's real funny, Nirva?” I asked, genuine in speech, but at every end of every odd in my own mind. I closed my eyes and smiled, not out of happiness, but out of confusion.

“What's that...?” he answered me, skeptically slow.

“You told me not to listen to anyone, 'cause they didn't know anything. Now, you sound an awful like one of those people. You don't really know anything, do you?”

“Yeah, I... I guess I don't,” he sighed, defeated. “I look like a real clown, huh? That... sucks, Laura. I was hoping coming here would tell me a little more. Instead, this fragment just... told me to wait. Time. Time time time. It's always about time.”

“I don't think I need to tell you how important patience is.”

He didn't say anything to that, but by the squint of his eyes and the small frown on across his muzzle, he could retaliate any time he wanted. He looked at the rock, his stillness striking me with unrest.

...

“Lauraaaaa!” a young girl shouted, tumbling into the scene, tripping up and falling, sliding right up to the rear of Nirva's hind legs. Ericka, I thought to myself!

“Wh-?!” Nirva jumped, spinning quick.

Mouth wide, I saw three others bolt into the clearing. Derrick was among them. He froze when he saw Nirva. An orange, two-tailed weasel and a blue mouse ball were here as well. I was too frenzied to remember their names.

“Don't hurt her, you jerk!” Ericka cried out, hugging her arms around one of Nirva's legs.

“H-hey, get off'a me, ya little nut,” Nirva said, shaking his back leg, freeing himself of the plusle. “Sloppy! That was sloppy! I thought you were at least gonna be smart about an ambush or something.”

“Ambush?” I asked, addled.

Ericka was seated against an upright Derrick. The orange weasel was on his hind legs, hunched forward, ready to jump into an attack. I kept a close eye on him.

“Yeah, ambush,” Nirva confirmed. “I heard these guys comin' a mile away. You can't hide from a leafeon in a forest, morons. So, what, you wanted to fight? I knew you two'd follow me here.”

“We're not here to fight,” said the blue mouse, poised forward like his friends. “Otherwise we wouldn't have brought these two along. Laura, the Stand is worried about you.”

“The Stand... me?” I gasped, recalling the room I had spent days in, keeping safe, keeping secrets.

Davidson, John, Joel, Mariposa, Derrick, and Ericka. I had forgotten that I left them without saying a word. I sent my regards to these two other boys, but perhaps it... didn't go so well. I wasn't thinking straight. I was too fascinated with Laza, even for the Stand. I knew that, but still, I went ahead with it, because I had... nothing else. No family, no Zack, no choice... The Stand were my friends, but they couldn't replace...

“Yeah! We need you back with us, Laura. Danithan's gone, and... we don't want to lose you, too.” Ericka sniffled, her paws in her lap.

“Everyone was really starting to worry about Danithan already. When you went away, it got quiet in there.” Derrick added, one paw on his other's head, between her tall ears.

“Danithan's not..." Nirva whispered, sulking, looking away, as to keep others from hearing him.

“Guys, I wasn't gone that long. Besides, I told these two to let you know I'd be back in a little bit.” I clarified—honestly, why were they so worried? I was like less than a mile from the school.

“Y-yeah, we know, but... that Nirva guy...” Ericka whined.

“After watching Nirva hurt Edge, we didn't want you to get hurt either.” said the blue ball.

“Are you guys just completely stupid? Why would I hurt Laura? I had a reason for attacking Edge, okay? None of you would get it. While I am it, even I don't quite get it. But I'm about to.” Nirva foreboded, making a graceful leap up onto the tall stone, facing all five of us.

“N-Nirva? What are you doing?” I squeaked, tightening the grasp around my flower's stem. Dread loomed over me, disembodied wings. There was a promise of sorrow in the stone.

“Gonna crack this bad boy open!” he claimed, a blue vine emerging from the back of his neck, arcing into the air and swinging down.

“You're gonna what?! That's like solid rock—how do you expect to break something like that?!” the orange weasel said.

“I'm a grass-type, pipsqueak. Rocks aren't fond of grass, no matter how sturdy. Same reason you don't wanna mess with me. Now watch, and, hopefully, learn. If we get lucky, this might share some knowledge with you. Heh, maybe you'll all help me infect this sandbox of a planet after this!” Nirva yelled.

In his fluid temperament, a flash of courage or stupidity, he thrust his single vine into the rock, a loud grunt in tow. As he did this, the markings in his fur flickered a loud blue, remaining lit, growing longer across his body, until all of these runic lights connected. His vine began to do the same, glowing blue, until it became bright enough to see through, blue turning to white. Seams of bright blue lined the rock, as if it was about to burst.

“Hee-heeere we go! This is what I'm talkin' about! Really feelin' that Gamma now!” Nirva delighted. He sounded thrilled, but I couldn't take note of any expression beyond the gleam.

...

Negativity caught up to my hotheaded companion.

That gleam began to agitate all throughout the process, the conjoined objects. The seams of the stone became dim, then dark, draining all of the mystifying color from within. The cracks scarring across the giant rock became black, almost liquid with the way their light poured from the object. The rock was bleeding now, glowing black, a reverse light. Connected to that corrupted light was Nirva, who began to groan with apparent discomfort. The glistening black, faintly purple in its hue, spread into his vine, pulsing, traveling through it like fluid, a syringe, a bridge. The scene became dark enough to both witness and cringe upon. I saw that Nirva's eyes were closed. He wasn't standing anymore; instead, he was leaning over his front legs, his back legs still tall; a quadruped variant of doubling over. He was in pain.

“Wha-what... H-hang on, what are... you...?” he babbled. “What're you doing in there?”

I didn't know what I could do for him. He didn't call for help. Somehow, I knew that was unlike him. I watched, awaiting something dire, my heart thumping.

Nirva's vine was coated in blackish, purple light. It had already begun to crawl into his runic lines, his snowy fur shifting to a shady gray, the leaves on his body becoming cracked and withered, turning to a tarry black.

“Is, uh, that supposed to be happening?” Ericka asked.

“I-I don't think it is, Ericka.” the round mouse answered.

I could feel and hear my heartbeat.

“Laza...? Laza, Brother, it's me. It's Nirvaneon. What're you doing? I thought you were already out of... you're...” he spoke, broken up into fragments of dizziness, an intoxicated rant. “The... bell...? Aza...bell. Aza... I-I know... nothing? You know... nothing. You are not a Pokémon. You are not a Pokémon...”

As he mumbled, his voice became a shadow, one over another, like a single mouth with two separate means of speech.

“This... I... am Pokémon,” he, an unknown figure within my known stranger, spoke. “I am who we are at our core. Laza is... nothing. Gamma is... mine. The gift I will give you has slept overlong, but a bell has sounded for it to rise...

Or is its sleep simply being interrupted? It doesn't matter. Gamma is mine. I started this."

“Hehehehehe...” someone giggled, manic and shaky. I couldn't turn away, but the voice sounded like it belonged to the orange boy.

“Bry...?” another asked, fearing his friend.

“The walls,” Nirva's shadow began. “They are peeling back. I can return. I can change everything. I can... recolor...”

I was shivering, my jaw closed tighter than it has ever been. There was an aura of absolute final judgment, something at more of an end than myself, having lost everything there was to lose. It felt unfamiliar, like a side of a certain demigod that I didn't know enough of. Someone was speaking to Nirva, through Nirva, to the world.

“G-get out of Nirva,” I mouthed, seeping with too much fear to make a noise over the mystic hum of the darkened rock's transfer of undiscovered energies. “You're going to hurt him!”

“Because of Pokémon, I am, and all of you are mine. A demonstration,” the shade declared, calm, malevolent.

I gulped loudly and threw my tiny body at the crooked enormity, only catching a gust of wind before I choked on spit, the insides of my being thrown forward; I felt the heartbeat motions of swerving and stopping all within small frames.

Something was holding onto something of mine, having kept me from my advance. My flowery umbrella was nearly taken from my small hands. I turned, finding that the orange boy—Bryan—had latched both of his round paws onto the furthest petal of the flower. There was a sickly grin across his face, the bottoms of his eyelids lifted in glee. He began to tug, forcing me closer, his paws now on the stem.

“What are you doing?! Let GO!” I heaved, yanking my parasol away. It was futile. His grip was stronger than mine.

“It's so lonely being inside of me, Laura,” he called back, cackling “I don't want that!”

I stared at him. I stared at Bryan for what felt like minutes, though I knew the forest around me wasn't spinning quite that fast. The twisted air made the time pass that much faster. I couldn't believe him. I couldn't believe Bryan for what he was doing and Nirva for what he was relaying. It was too quick for me.

I didn't have the gall to strike back at this obstacle. I was pulled closer to Bryan until another called his name, wrapping stubby arms around his torso and squeezing. There was no added tug to the stem. Instead, the little round mouse wanted to stop his friend.

Mouth closed, I grunted, and gave a determined pull, uprooting the stem from his paws. When I did so, my shoulders ached loudly, something screeching inside of my mind, over and over. There was a wet rip. My head was crying inside. My parasol felt lighter. It felt so light that it nearly flew from my hands when I retrieved it. It... looked like part of it had.

My body was tingling now, itching within, scorching behind my eyes, drilling screams into my heart, shredding bone and sinew in my mind, heavy blood dripping off of the spade of my tail.

There was a recoil to Bryan's pull. He flew back with the blue mouse. In his paws was something large, disembodied, sporting five thick red petals. The green spine hung from its lifeless neck.

Watery vision found my half: a ripped stem bleeding with colorless sap, clear as tears. I opened my puny hands, laying it flat across them. Fast breaths left my open lips, as my hands twitched, slowly curling into small fists, clenching one half of a corpse.

My spirit was broken.

Something lurched for me, binding me until I couldn't breathe. I let it take hold. I didn't care. I let it do it's ill play. It was dark, irradiated, poisonous black. It bound my arms together, my hands stuck holding the stem.

It was Nirva. He constricted me, uncaring of my pain. He wasn't caressing—he was choking the life out of me, bleeding my body dry like the sap leaking from the veins of my stem. With his shady vine, now free from the stone, he held me in front of him. His eyes, however, remained closed.

“The truth harbors a thunderous voice that deafens those who listen closely. It cripples the strong and spurs the weak. It withers both into a heap of bottomless pathos,” he preached, the etchings in his fur shooting off into every direction, fading away, then shooting off again, haywire, haphazard, chaotic. “'Danithan'? This body is 'Danithan'. A vessel. A ship. Soulless.”

I took an achingly long look at Nirva's tainted face. I saw flashes of fire from the past. I saw bravery, idiocy, lunacy, comedy and tragedy. I saw yelling and cooing. The yelling was... for a girl called Katalyn. The cooing was for a girl called Laura.

The voice belonged to Danithan. Danny B, I called him. He was gone...

I bit my tongue and shivered, losing faith, losing hope. I sank. My body was growing heavier, shrinking away, chest emptying, all of the good spilling away, all of the images of smiles, embraces, and unity.

“This... is... a world of Laza,” said the blank-faced person holding me. “Forced reincarnation. Deterministic. An empty script. You follow him because he makes you. You chose nothing. You are a tool. Danithan is a tool. Even Nirvaneon is a tool...”

“No...” I cried...

“His world is lies, and truth is his shadow. I am that shadow. Become mine—my tool, my Gamma. His is false. He thought me alike, but he is nothing to me. My Gamma will spin this sorry world backwards until time becomes an illusion. We will devolve together.”

“Laza... lied?” I sniffled.

“Lied. Laza LIED,” the shadow screeched, spitting putrid words into me, filling me with silent anguish. “But I am no liar.”

I couldn't hear what the others were saying. I didn't care enough to listen...

“What are you...?” I moaned.

“I came before 'Laza'. I'm the first, and I'll be the last. The Sublimator. The Red Gamma. This... is the true nature of our kind under liquid starlight.”

A violent twitch. A sporadic pain in my back, a thorn of the black vine biting into me like an animal. I tried to scream, but I dry-heaved. The thorn dug deeper, the entry point in my back teeming with more life than with which my heart pumped. Thoughts raced to be the victor of an endless cycle. They melted into a brimming cesspool. I became sad...

The pain—the hurt caused me to wield broken tears.

He was sucking me dry. He was taking everything. He was taking Laura away, just like how Laza took Danithan away. I saw the truth with him. I saw it with the Sublimator.

“You have had a wonderful life, haven't you?” he asked me, expecting nothing of an answer from my noiseless yelps. “Not a thing went wrong for you until the Wave. You lost everything. Sad. Own it, then. It is yours. Your only motive is sadness. Hopelessness.”

...I stopped hearing a conscience...

I had one shoulder with one figure on it, and the figure was blanked out like a mosaic blur, censorship.

I was released. I fell. I didn't bother moving. Didn't want to... I wanted to die...

I dropped my stem. I sniffled. I put my arms ahead and tried to crawl. Nirva's blackened legs were in my way. Still on the rock. My arms were darker, shady, dirty.

I writhed and curled up. My lower body was red. Didn't care when it changed. Didn't want to care. Truth hurt. Didn't want to know. Wanted to die...

Couldn't think. Wanted to cry forever...

Hurt... So hurt, wanted to put it all away. Wanted... wanted... want. Became want. Nothing but want. Only want. Want want want...

Faded delusions. Blood-pulp pain. Sub-divine vision of an anti-deity. Follower, I was.

Make the world one state. One emotion. None other. No conflict. No worry. Wanted one and only one.

But right now, I wanted to die...

…

…

…

Bryan

“Bryan, where are you going?! Wait, come back!” Travis yelled. I was already running, taken to all fours, dashing through the undergrowth.

I had to go. I was being closed in again. The walls were squeezing me. I saw them squeeze Laura. Sublimator. Sublimator Sublimator Sublimator! I knew that name because it rang with a different chime in my head than any other word, even different than Edge or azabell. Red, he said. Why did he say it?! Was Red the color of the walls?! Was he the one responsible for the walls?!

I hurt Laura. I betrayed. I did it again. I ran away from the woodland.

The voices faded behind me. I left Travis alone for the first time. I didn't want to hurt him. Something inside of me wanted to break free. I was being conjured. I was never transformed into a buizel. I was never infected by the Wave I knew. I was lied to, but not just by Laza. I had to find it. I had to find where all the lies came from. Something physical. Someone physical. The source. The bell. Had to go. Had to turn and be the traitor, the singled-out. The outcast.

Through the arching trees. Their backs looked tired, but still they arched. Their leaves were always holding hands, forming that canopy, keeping us inside. Incubating.

All that work I had done to stay human meant nothing. Everything I had done for Travis and Atti was just a distraction for myself so that I couldn't break out of the walls. I saw the truth, and the truth was as black as a the shadows cast upon me by my own walls.

Rapid footsteps. Sharp rocks into my paws.

I nearly stopped at two more figures. One was white and green, the other blue, black, and yellow. Maya and Al. Here? I swerve, sloppy, kicking up dirt, screaming at them not to follow, to go away, to turn around...

…

…

…

Al

“Bryan?!” I gasped, stopping cold to face the guy.

But he was running from some serious shit somewhere, and he didn't stop to tell us about it. I swear I saw a blur of orange behind him as he passed by.

“Don't, don't! Go—don't follow—go, go!” he shouted, so quickly it registered as pure gibberish.

It didn't help that he didn't look back to say that to us. I'd hoped Maya picked it up better than I had. She seemed like the mind reader type. Y'know, maybe I didn't want to know what was going on inside of Bryan's head. Or maybe he was being chased by authorities. I was bound to go ahead and switch that second guess to the most likely of events—I was forgetting how much of a threat the men in dark were.

Maya and I stood there contemplating what might have been the source of his problems. She spoke to me before I had a chance to really register what just happened.

“Alphonse, maybe it'd be best to catch up to your friend? That is your friend, right?” she asked.

“Yeah, that's uh... right, I'll try and do that. Travis wasn't with him though.” I noted. I actually just said it at the same time I thought it: Trav wasn't with Bryan. There was a first.

“Duly regarded. This means that I must part ways with you.” she said, hasty.

I heard some footsteps, but they only really came off as shuffling, maybe some awkward walking back and forth while I figured out what could've been the problem were it not authorities, who would've been right on his tail if he...

I stood facing the direction he ran off in. There was a bend up ahead. It led to Orion Avenue. He must've gone there.

I thought briefly...

“Wait, Maya, didn't you say you wanted Bryan AND Tra-”

I turned around mid-query. Maya was gone, a phantom in the woods. My tail dropped to the ground. She was too quiet for me all along then. Yeah, she did always strike me as that type, but damn, woman, you were hella quiet to get away from me that easily. Your legs—what were you, a gardevoir?—your legs were small, but not small enough to make no noise in dirt. Hey, I had killer ears as this shinx thing. Plus, I was pretty low to the ground, too! I could... could...

Welp. On my own again.

Maya needed Travis for something. She did always sort of look out for those guys. Maybe she lost her kid or kids in the infection and just wanted to be a good mom for who was left. I respected that, but damn if she wasn't a little coocoo in the head. Why was she so secretive about things? She knew Bryan and I were buddies. Why in the heck would she want us to split up? Well, maybe it had something to do with what Edge called 'psychic-type prowess'. She knew this was going to happen, eh? She knew I would've had to chase Bryan (again, kind of) so that she could get Trav back. 'The shit were they after again? Laura. Slipped my mind completely.

Well, alright, fine. I turned my confused hind around and gave a steady chase to the weirdo who called himself Bryzel—yeah, wait, I called him that. He didn't like it. It was kinda like how he didn't like me pointing out his potential relationship with Travis. Wait, that was Topher who did that. I would'a whistled for the two lovebirds, but I stopped doing that after I bit my lip with my fangs.

I was crazy distracted today. Maybe I was just excited to have gotten out of the Grove alive. Or to have seen my dad have some kind of change of heart. His words were growing on me. Yeah, they still pissed me off some, but it was a good piss. Off. A good piss-off. I dunno—I was warming up to the idea of the authorities leaving. Kinda bittersweet, but I had this butterfly-filled feeling that he would'a come back to me as a Pokémon, too.

Figuring out the dish Bryan had in front of him was the first step in getting Dad back. Getting to the hospital and seeing Cruce snoozin' was the second step. One path at a time.

…

I got through the woods. There was a flash of lightning out in the open of Orion Avenue. This place still stank like wet wounds. The coming rainfall wasn't bound to help it all. We weren't used to the rain all that much. Seeing it felt a little out of place, especially in this quantity. But hey, we had some wet winters, so that made sense. Winter was right around the corner. Now, if only Bryan could'a been right around a corner, things would have gone smoother.

Nah, not so—I was searching the streets for a while. I kept to the cracked sidewalks. I ran these bad boys up and down all this month, chasing authorities, running from them, biting at their heels and giving them a shock to remember. Lot of memories forged here, lot of stuff put to rest. If I had a choice, I'd probably be buried somewhere between here and the spot the Circle liked to hang out.

This place was a junkyard now. There were ruined, burnt out cars littering the streets. Fallen trees, house rubble, scorched rubber and earth, and sorry promises... Man, it stank like hell out here. The houses that were still standing didn't look too good themselves either. A lot of 'em were boarded like they'd been days, weeks, probably a month ago now. No one wanted to be kidnapped. I stopped to think how many of these houses still had their hungry owners hiding in 'em.

Something wet fell onto my back. My ears flicked. I smelled rainwater mixing with the cold oil and the coagulated blood. Thunder echoed somewhere far. I missed the flash that came before it.

I moved through the scraps and heaps of broken carnage that madmen brought to the streets of a once beloved neighborhood where kids got to play on the streets without a worry in the world, everyone pretty much had a white picket fence, and not a person was a stranger. It was pretty sad.

I walked through time, looking back at the better moments. I pictured blurry shadows of gray walking beside me, cars driving by, people tending to their front lawns, the smell of barbecue, charcoal...

Then, I blinked, and I found the future again. Wasteland, I saw. I couldn't get away from it no matter how much I wanted to think getting away from the bad guys did it all for me—like, really did it all. I thought besting those stupid authorities made all the difference, made me the hero...

Nope. Whenever I came back, this was what it was to: desolation. This was what I used to call home and, honestly, what I still did. The humans may have left us, but they left us with one monster of a mess to clean up. I expected it to look a little like the Grove when we were all done, and then I couldn't call it Autumnridge anymore, and I couldn't play rugby, be with the team, have parties the same way. I wanted my face back, man...

I stopped looking ahead and just let my sorry-ass gaze hit the damp ground. Two feet in front of the other two, Al. That was all you could do. 'Sides the electric shit. That was cool.

I was far up the Orion hill now. I wasn't even on the right path anymore, and heck, Bryan was long gone by now. I got a little lost in the memories, a little distracted. I guess I betrayed the Circle again, in that sense. I wanted it all back so badly that I couldn't act to get it back. I knew some deep despair then. Was a real cock-block, that despair.

All I had walking with me was rainfall, making noise the same way my footsteps always did in this damn body: rapid, pattering, fast...

It took me from the noise on the streets. Commotion, I thought. I heard it before I thought anything of it. I looked up and saw a battlefield, bodies leaking black and red, lifeless and still, all laying near one another. There were still two bodies standing amidst them all, but I couldn't tell if they were alive.

Both of them looked very familiar.

But they smelled like something I've never smelled before.

No, I... I have...

It was a girl and a man. The man was wearing a uniform drenched in his own blood, maybe some of his squad's, maybe some of the girl's. There was a dead dog at his side—it looked like a German Shepard. My dog...? I had a dog like that. Seeing it lay on its side with its legs out, stiff as stone, hurt my heart.

The man was empty handed, dripping with fluids, fingers clenched around nothing but undead air. The more I looked, the wider my jaw became.

The girl was very close to the man. She was pale, with orange eyes burning through the gray rain, smoky black hair choking her bloody scarf, purple sweater, black pants and boots. She was holding something through the man, sharp, pulsing with neon red veins in its black, crystalline blades. Near its base, in front of the man's impaled chest, were two blades similar. A bladed cross...?

And... the man...

He had hair like I used to.

“Wh-...” I gasped, loud enough to be heard by both of them.

The man's neck creaked. He turned slowly. There was blackness in his eyes, but I knew him well enough, even with the blood pouring from his mouth. He said nothing to me.

The girl removed the cross-shaped weapon from him, her boot against his ravaged chest, pushing away. In that moment, he was gone, flailing to the ground, landing atop the dog. A dark red mist decorated the foggy rain. His arms duplicated the shape of his assailant's weapon. He was crucified. I saw his eyes glisten. They were still open, rainfall creating or hiding tears for him.

“Dad?” I groaned, voice breaking like leaves withering, browning.

The girl waited over the body, looking at it, the cross spear held in one hand by her side, blasé, empty of heart, among a field of corpses, authorities...

When she faced me, her amber eyes left a trail of their color in the dark of the air.

I looked at her cross. It hurt. Just looking at it made my eyes feel like they were bleeding lava. My ribs ached. My head felt like it was going to explode. My breaths became quick and easy to choke on.

“D-Da... DAD?!” I yelled, blood-curdling.

I ran to the young cemetery. I shook, keeping myself as far as I could from the girl—from Katalyn Valentine. I wanted to keep my eyes on her, like she had promised with her own gaze. I had to look closer. I had to see my dad again. He was here, with our dog, his partner in crime. I couldn't... do that. But I could now! I could've done that now...

“Dad... wake up...? Hey, what...” I murmured, placing a leg against his side, pushing.

I pushed, pushed again, pushed yet again.

"Hey...?" I said. "Dad, I..."

I can still be your partner, Dad. Like Eta. I-I would be a better police dog than Eta, and I'm not even a dog.

Why didn't you give that a chance? O-o-oh yeah... You would've become another victim.

Was that really so bad...?

Dad, don't...

There was such a tremendous hole in his chest, through all of that prestige, that uniform. It wasn't as red up close as I thought it would be. It was just black, rotten, yet somehow glistening.

“I told them not to get in the way. What do they do? Get in the way.” said 'Valentine'.

I returned the promised gaze, teeth squeezing together, nearly grinding. My eyes and mouth were wide and I was breathing like a maniac. I couldn't even explain the expression. It didn't look like I was mad or sad. It looked like I was just ready to go...

...FUCKING CRAZY NOW!

“Go away, Al,” she said, just like THAT. “They were trying to kill me. You don't need to try that, too. Just... forget what you saw, and go back to the Circle.”

“Fuck YOU,” I screamed. “You murderer! You piece of shit murderer!”

“I'm...” she stopped.

“You're dead, you're dead, YOU'RE DEAD!” I stomped, cheeks hot with boiling tears.

The entire length of her blade was upchucking black mist into the rain as it had done with the grievous wound of my father. She sighed loudly and lifted it above her head, put two hands on the hilt of the monstrous weapon, and pointed it forward. Her front leg swept the ground, moving forward. The other bent behind her—deadly stance.

“You never seemed like you wanted to be a Pokémon,” she said. “I won't kill you, but I'll kick your ass and rip your guts out, then I'll hand you over to Scion... Sorry, Al.”

“STOP—AAAGHHH—STOP TALKING! STOP IT!” I cried out, stepping back, the ground and everything beneath it trembling beneath my feet. The quake was in my head, shaking everything upside down, this feeling filling every inch of a body too small to hold it.

“You need to see everything. You need to see what I've seen, then death'll stop looking so bad.”

I wanted to scream at her until my lungs ruptured.

I kept stepping back, the puddles growing deeper, splashes louder, rainstorm heavier.

I put my head high, lifted my tail, and fulfilled my desire. I screamed, but the thunder quieted me. I was struck with something bright, too bright, so bright that I could taste the energy. It stung like fire, but part of me absorbed it like it was something savory, juicy, a prey.

It lasted a second, but came in flicks, one, two, three. I took it in. My body drank it. I felt a change, bones moving, skin expanding, fur coordinating with the shift. It was a different change than the one Laza gave me. It didn't hurt. It was the most natural thing I've felt in a long, long time.

The lightning cleared, but it stayed with me, somewhere inside.

I was taller now, with more of a black mane than before. There were yellow sparks swerving around me. My jaw felt stronger, my legs larger, my insides rebuilt, reinforced, strengthened.

I was eclipsed again.

I had evolved, and with it, I got further from my old face.

I got it now. There was no turning back. I was in this until the very end—in this body. I might as well have made a RIOT with it, and I DID THAT!

“YOU DON'T SCARE ME KATALYN!” I roared old words, voice deeper, reminiscent of my long-gone one. I was refreshed, reborn again.

“We're all monsters now. C'MON, what are you WAITING FOR?!” she erupted, bursting forth, inhuman, more so than I ever could be. She was just a ghost now, just like everyone else I knew.

The thunder clamored like a crowd, the rain the applause.

…

…

…

Edge

“It's getting noisy out there,” the electric squirrel murmured. “Glad you kids made it here alright.”

“Gibsy,” Topher mewed. “You're so cute! When did you transform?”

He didn't answer. I could tell through his yellow patches that he was blushing. He was smiling though, so it looked okay.

“A pachirisu,” I introduced his kind. “Gibson, you're looking well. How's your wife?”

“Ah, Janey's okay,” he replied, turning his head to an angle and looking back through a hallway, albeit still facing the three of us. “She's still worried about you guys though. Still not the best, ya know. Our son's still asleep. How's that going between you two?”

“I—uhm... Not... fast.” Topher answered, embarrassed. I felt the same way, but I failed to show it.

I didn't say a word. Cruce's case was a puzzle. I stood blankly, arms behind my back. I wasn't expecting the chespin behind me to say a word on behalf of our trump card human. Honestly, I was beginning to doubt that he was the answer, but he felt too different to be ignored. Different, yes.

“Aww, drats,” Gibson shrugged, pulling his head back, resting it on his large tail—larger than mine, even. “I thought we may have been getting somewhere. Well, I won't blame you guys. You're doing more than I ever could.”

“Not so, Gibson,” I retaliated. “You're a Pokémon now. You have a great power within you. I think you should use that to its fullest ability and grow alongside it.”

“Hm? Edgy, you're okay with this? Normally, wouldn't you be sorta angry Laza reached my uncle?” Topher asked, referring of course to the number four seventeen before us.

I froze. What did he just say? Did he believe me any less concerned for Laza's influence? Was I being doubted?

Oh... Why did I feel this way? Why did I feel like I was wrong about something? Perhaps Topher was right—yes, I... was out of my head there, wasn't I?

What was my head doing?! Was it betraying me?! I was supposed to hate Laza! Nothing else! There was no ROOM for anything else in there but hatred for Laza and concern for those who he had so woefully destroyed. Yes yes, give me that hate! Don't lose control just yet!

I took a deep breath.

“That fiend has marked this man. I can't forgive him, but even I realize that there are advantages that a Pokémon has over a human. I just wish that Laza wouldn't force your humanity away.” I said.

“Oh, hahah, well, Edge,” Gibson chuckled. “I chose this myself, actually! The wifey was getting lonely being a... uh meowstic? I couldn't ignore her. That felt more inhuman than anything, so... heh, need I go on?”

“I see...” I sighed...

“Awww, Gibsy, you're such a boss husband.” Topher cooed, crawling up to his uncle and pressing his nose into the giant of a tail which Gibson wielded so well.

“Yeah, I know. You'll draw one in like me, Ashley. Keep doing that charmy thing, and you'll have yourself a boy who can't let go of you,” he paused, making a wide mouth, straight as a line without an imperfection. “What am I saying? I'm a dad. Don't mess with boys—they're like monkeys.”

“Hehehe, that's a tall order.” said the shaymin.

“I'm not a monkey...” said the chespin.

“Well, anywhats and whens, you're home. Stay for a while. Say hi to your aunt, why don't'cha?” the pachirisu suggested.

“Uh-huh, gonna go do that now,” Topher nodded. He faced us. “You two should get comfy. I wanna see my auntie, then I'll invite you over to my room. I just... heh, I'll be back!”

He left us with that, walking down the wooden floored hallway all the way to where it turned a right angle. Topher disappeared after that. I heard some voices in the back. It was too personal for my ears to continue listening to.

I looked at Atti, then at Gibson. No one said a thing. We knew nothing about one another. How sad. Atti claimed he knew me.

I so wondered what Topher was talking about. What was in his room?

Hm. Interesting. It wasn't like that shaymin to keep secrets. Well, perhaps it was bound to leave the realm of secrecy. He appeared eager to bring us to his domain. Quite enrapturing.

A sense of painful dread.

Atti, my friend, did you not just feel that as well?

Gibson, my acquaintance, were you at ease?

I myself happened to be feeling more under the weather than what I was comfortable with.

Topher told the two of us to bring him to his house. He was worried he couldn't do it on his own. I blame him little, if at all.

Ah, it feels so divine. I'm thinking much more clearly than before, but for some reason, I still find myself obsessing about Laza.

Still, I analyze more efficiently. I see more things. I can make more rational decisions. I must owe my thanks to Drew's mother. Perhaps even Caden. Most certainly Atticus.

Should I be thanking Celebi?

Mmm... I have divulged too much of my thought. Laza could be anywhere, watching my mind.

I must swallow these thoughts.