Darkness of Orre

-.-.-

Chapter 1: Restriction for One, Freedom for Another

-.-.-

Rui could never say she really liked the Orre Region.

It wasn't that the place was known for only bad things. When she came back from trips there, people of her hometown acted like she was some sort of disgrace. She couldn't blame them; when she went there, she could never say she was truly safe. A surprisingly clean girl walking through a town full of thugs was obviously not an everyday occurrence in such a place. So she usually kept her head down, hands in pockets, eyes planted towards the ground as she ignored the snarky mutters of everyone around her. When she went to the Orre Region, it was almost like she was some sort of abomination.

But that wasn't the reason why she didn't like the region itself.

Usually, it was the way her mother told her to go. Her calm eyes said it like it was a good thing. But Rui knew she would miss those calm eyes as soon as she stepped onto the plane. The reason she disliked the Orre Region so much wasn't because of the thugs or the danger or the general madness. It wasn't even the unsettling amount of wanted posters on the wall or the way people smirked devilishly at her when she looked at them. Instead, it was the fact that she felt out of place.

When she stepped off the plane in Pyrite Town for what had been one time too many, she instantly felt people grimacing at her for her clean clothes and neat hair which fell lightly to her shoulders, pin-straight and unlike anything most of them had probably ever seen.

Another unnerving factor was the fact that, every single time she arrived, she had to make her way alone through the most dangerous town in the most dangerous region. She struggled to blink as she walked, boots already covered in a thin layer of dirt and eyes pinned firmly ahead as to not cause any unwanted eye-contact. This time, she didn't have pockets, so her fingers toyed at the hem of her skirt, fidgeting constantly seeking something to do with themselves.

Her mind was, surprisingly, not stuck on self-defence mechanisms or ways of avoiding having to use those mechanisms in the first place, but instead on how she could fit in. Because if she fit in just that tiny bit more, maybe people wouldn't look at her like she was alien. Most people had spiky up-does; Mohawks, weird gelled hairstyles that Rui could not have pulled off even if she tried. Many guys had shaved heads or Rattata-tails that were filled with grease and grime. Rui didn't own gel; she never had, and would have preferred to never have to, and she was beginning to think she'd have to break that promise to herself. Instead, however, she found her hands winding around her hair as she tied it into two pigtails on top of her head.

When she was finished, she stopped to admire herself in a puddle full of Arceus-knows what, but it definitely was not water. She placed her hands on her hips, smiling to herself in satisfaction. It wasn't unnatural, and it didn't take a freakish amount of gel, but it was at least spiky.

But when she looked up, she saw the exact opposite of what she wanted to see.

She'd never known Pokémon to attack humans. It wasn't a thing they were trained to do. Even the evilest, most horrible people never instructed their Pokémon to attack people unnecessarily. Apparently, this person was worse than the worst.

He was instructing what looked to be a fighting type – short and stocky, with mustard coloured skin and completely blank eyes. But that wasn't the weird thing about it. The Pokémon – whatever species it may have been, Rui wasn't sure – was surrounded in a completely black aura. And when she made eye contact with the trainer, her entire world crashed beneath her.

The man was a few metres away from her, smirking devilishly, maybe a head or so taller than her. His fiery orange Mohawk was brightened to look like fire in the sun, making him look more thuggish than he already did. Rui gulped, taking a step back while making a point to not step in the puddle. She could feel her eyes darkening, her eyelids drooping in fear. Any normal person would walk away, but according to that theory, Rui was anything but normal.

The subconscious decision to not walk away was, what she thought, anyone's reaction. And the man didn't cause it. Actually, the man himself wasn't at all intimidating compared to what stood behind him.

The shadowed Pokémon stood at his feet, glaring at her. But… he wasn't glaring. He was staring, completely blank-faced, no hint of aggression or annoyance. It just stood, gloved hands clenched at its sides and eyebrows slanted like any of that species naturally would. The Pokémon itself, however, was still not the reason her feet were rooted to the spot. Instead, she was focusing on the aura. Light made of darkness, tiny balls flittering around in the murky shadows like little winged bugs. The aura was like black fire, burning around the Pokémon and sucking up all of its emotion. That was the next sickening thing; the Pokémon was void of any emotion.

As the Pokémon's supposed trainer held up his hand to make it attack, the Fighting-type should have held aggression. Of course, it wasn't normal for Pokémon to attack humans. It never had been, even in a region such as Orre. So any pokémon forced to do so would have undoubtedly been slightly angry.

This Pokémon wasn't, just emotionless, its blank face hiding behind its fist, which was headed straight towards a quivering Rui.

As she was smacked against the wall, an ear-piercing scream echoed throughout Pyrite Town. Then, there was silence.

No one tried to help.

-.-.-

Wes still wasn't really sure why he was a criminal.

The organisation he worked for wasn't the stereotypical team of goons. Not like Orre was the only region that had a criminal organisation, but this one was the reason why Orre had such a bad name.

Most regions had criminals that raged war in strange outfits, like capes or hoods, and, despite their criminal status, didn't usually resort to too much violence when it came to doing what they wanted. That was where Team Snagem differed from them.

In fact, Wes knew that Team Snagem revolved around violence. Without violence, they would be nothing. What was the point in having an army of robot-like Pokémon if you didn't use them to attack people? That was the way his boss thought, and there was a time when he thought like that, too.

Now was not that time. Now, Wes hated the Snagems. He wanted them gone at all cost. And if that meant eradicating them entirely, structures and all, then so be it.

So now, he was taking the biggest risk of his life.

Next to him, the shadow of his Umbreon stood, yellow eyes squinted in the heated desert sunlight, bushy tail flicking back and forth as he stood guard in front of his trainer. The wall in front of Wes was thick, but a small crack grazed down the side that he assumed the Umbreon – Nova – could blow through. That assumption was what made his teeth grit. If his plan worked, he'd be fired, only he would not be there to see himself get fired. That prospect seemed decent enough.

If he failed, he'd be fired anyway, only he'd find it much harder to make a getaway without all of his limbs attached and his Pokémon in tow.

He glanced around, different shades of brown clouding his vision. His hazel eyes, like Nova's, were squinted and determined. Pacing in and out of the hideout that he hoped wouldn't be standing for too much longer were numerous Team Snagem grunts, the lowest of the low in terms of the workers. They walked with their backs slouched and their faces looking naturally grumpy. That was what this place had done to them; sucked the life force out of them and, at the same time, treated them like robots as much as they treated the Pokémon they commanded.

"Scree!"

The screech came from above him. Looking up, he shielded his eyes from the sun to see better. The flapping of wings followed the cry, and soon enough a giant grey bird was flying overhead, the feathers on its wings encased in steel. It seemed almost unrealistic that such a creature could actually take flight, but Wes knew that wasn't important. That Skarmory was, for the most part, a sign that the boss was out of the hideout. He'd been targeting that Pokémon for almost a year now, and now that it had finally been captured, it liked to show off of the mornings and stretch its wings. Very few Pokémon of Gonzap's possession got to do this.

For Wes, the Skarmory was a sign of his own freedom. Well, what was about to be his own freedom. He turned his head, seeing the Snagem grunts watching the Skarmory, their attention focused on nothing but the bird. This was a good sign; they'd certainly notice the explosion, but it may take them awhile to get their heads around it.

Twisting a piece of spiky, dirty-blond hair between his fingers, Wes turned to Nova and gestured to the wall. "Nova, Secret Power."

Parting its feet, the dark-type obeyed. One-by-one, the golden rings around Nova's forehead, tail and legs lit up, displaying a yellow light that made rays that looked like sunlight pierce through the air.

The earth began to shake, silently and only slightly at first, only enough to cause a few grains of sand to be disturbed from their previous positions. The shaking made Wes' feet sink into the ground, and he steadied himself on the part of the wall that hopefully would not be blown through.

It took a few seconds for the unpredictable attack to power up. When it did power up, though, Wes was almost thrown back from the force. From around him, Nova began picking up the shaking grains of sand. Little-by-little, they formed together, until they almost seemed like one big, solid mass, no longer transparent but instead a swirling tornado of sand. He turned his head to Nova, whose eyes were glowing brighter than ever, though now they were so concentrative that they almost seemed demonic. Paws sinking into the ground from the shaking, the Pokémon barked forcefully and directed the sand-tornado towards the wall.

The sand hit the stone wall, swirling around with forceful power that Wes had never seen Nova pull off. As it did so, the wall began to wear down down, the debris flying into the air and filling it with enough dust to almost seem like a mist. Upon feeling one of the grains hit his eye, Wes hissed and pulled his goggles off of his head and onto his eyes, the sand in the air increasing in seconds.

The form of Nova was now a black silhouette lurking beneath the clouds of dust. As the attack faded, the form got darker and more solid, until the Umbreon stood, panting, the circles around his body darkened and his eyes squinted in the same determined way. Wes turned to him, nodding determinedly and beginning to make his way into the room.

Around him, the surprised yells of the grunts were beginning to sound, rising more and more until he heard footsteps around him.

"What the hell?"

"The boss! We have to tell the boss!"

Wes ignored them, instead focusing on the machine that he'd desired to hold in his hands for so long.

He'd worn the Snag Machine before. Actually, it was something he put on every day. But he didn't own it. Instead, the device sat on its stand in that very room day-by-day until the boss instructed someone to put it on. Such an amazing machine, in the hands that Wes disapproved of only as of yesterday.

Still, as his own fingertips touched the cold metal, encased in a thin layer of dust from the explosion, he was skeptical of whether or not be in the right hands with him, either. He wasn't even sure what he'd do with it; he just wanted it. Perhaps selfishly, perhaps not. He'd find that out later.

Now was not a time to reconsider his actions, though. Ripping the Snag Machine from its stand, he held it under his arm and turned around. Nova stood at the hole, teeth bared and eyes beckoning Wes to hurry up.

He had no time to put the Snag Machine on his arm; that would have to wait. For now, he had to get away from this place.

Bolting out of the room, he tore across the sand as fast as his feet would carry him. Pieces of grit rubbed his arms, and his goggles were dusty and chipped so that he could hardly see, but he still knew that, behind him, someone would be giving chase.

It was then that he heard footsteps behind him. Heavy and clunky - they could have only belonged to one person: Gonzap.

But before he could knock Wes to the ground, a second Pokémon leapt off of her previous station on the bike in which she sat, amethyst eyes glowing with fury and teeth gritted tightly. Wes skidded to a halt to view the scene. As he whirled around in his heels, he whipped his hand out in front of him and pointed aggressively to the man.

"Sina, use Confusion!"

The Espeon before him was nothing but a lilac blur as she leaped into the air, her thin body only just dodging the punch that had been thrown at her. The boss stumbled, his thick upper body unable to be held by his legs, and this was just enough time to allow Sina to send a forceful wave of psychic energy towards him.

As the boss became lined in blue light, he struggled and writhed under the pressure, teeth gritted to stop him from screaming. Wes smirked confidently.

"Throw him," he said simply, squinting his eyes in satisfaction.

Shock waves were sent through Gonzap's body, and he was thrown back aggressively by a powerfully determined Sina. The Espeon, once the deed was done, turned back towards Wes and Umbreon and barked hastily, though Wes wasn't sure why until it was too late.

Though he'd heard the Skarmory before, he'd completely forgotten about it. Until now. The boss's skarmory was as heavy as any steel-clad bird would be. But that seemed emphasized when Wes was stuck lying face-down on the sand, the bird's talons digging aggressively into his skin. He could feel the anger coming from the bird – he'd hurt his master, so she would hurt him.

But just as the bird readied a steel-wing attack, perfectly ready to slice Wes in half, Nova leapt from behind with a powerful Bite attack and clamped his teeth down upon the Steel-type. This didn't hurt her as much as it just threw her off balance, but that was all Nova needed. The Umbreon rushed towards his trainer as soon as he was free, nuzzling him on the arm and urging him to get up. Despite the pain in his back, Wes did just that, just in time to see Sina launching a Return on Skarmory.

After the attack, she took the time while her opponent was stunned – much less than hurt – to dodge nimbly past and bolt towards Wes' bike. Nova did the same, the two darting quickly into the sidecar in front of Wes, who quickly leapt onto the seat and revved the engine. He didn't own it. He'd never even used it, but he'd taken enough today to the point where the vehicle was almost insignificant among the other things.

"Hang on," he muttered to himself as he quickly skidded the bike to a half before it could barely start up. "We can't leave the place that in tact. Nova, let's have another Secret Power, this time on the cliff face."

With the Snag Machine nestled at the bottom of the sidecar, he sped away, well aware of Gonzap chasing behind him. Both of them knew he would never catch up, and for now, the former boss was no longer a problem. The building was gone; Nova had forced the cliffs to crumble, using most of his energy, and a rock had his the control room. The explosion was massive; the entire building blowing up in smoke, creating a pillar that floated up into the air. Wes could hear the rubble hitting the ground over his thoughts, but he could still hear himself speak.

"Not this time, Gonzap."

He smirked as he leant forward further, his victory sealed as he slipped through into the narrow cliffs of Eclo Canyon.

-.-.-

Maneuvering through countless canyons filled with thin, rocky pathways and rough sand that wasn't hard to sink into wasn't exactly the easiest thing. Luckily, Wes' bike was built for this sort of thing, and it didn't take him as long as he'd assumed it would in order to reach his destination.

For quite awhile, he could still hear the faint yells of Team Snagem as they fought to escape before the police arrived. It wasn't too hard to find them. The desert surrounding the hideout wasn't nearly enough to mask the sound of the explosion. Wes assumed it could be heard from miles away, and even if it couldn't, there was a tall pillar of smoke making its way through the sky that would surely raise question. He'd already noticed multiple news and police helicopters making their way to the scene, and it made him rather satisfied knowing that he'd caused it.

The sun was setting when he finally found himself out of the canyons. Now, ahead of him, lay nothing but desert - a straight road for him to make up as he went. All he really needed to do was drive straight until he saw civilisation, whenever that may be. From now on, he was alone.

However long he would be driving for, he wasn't sure. The sky was gradually getting paler and paler as it gave into the night, and he was beginning to grow drowsy. If nothing came into sight soon, he'd have to think about giving it up for the night and instead lying down to sleep where he was. That wasn't necessarily a good thing; though it would be nice to sleep somewhere other than the hideout, Orre was usually cold at night despite the heated days.

After another half-hour or so of driving, however, he saw something in the distance that sparked his interest. Squinting through his scratched goggles, he looked ahead to make out a relatively large, beat-up hover car driving towards a small, rusty-coloured mound in the distance.

Floating along for a little longer, the hover car pulled to a halt in front of the mound, and Wes realised that it wasn't just darker sand. Standing ahead of him was a train; run down and looking like it was about to collapse, but it seemed to be open for the public. He'd heard of this place, where travellers rested up after days of journeying through the harsh deserts of Orre, and it was apparently rather convenient.

"May as well stop there for the night," he said, before turning to face his two Pokémon. "What do you guys think?"

Nova, who was sitting upright in the sidecar, glanced at Wes and nodded quickly, before turning his gaze back in front of him. His ears twitched in the wind as he did so, flying back behind his head and showing off how alert his eyes were. It wasn't like this was an unusual case; Nova very rarely zoned out, even when it was time to sleep, and he was usually always looking for danger, assuming the worst out of every situation.

Sina, on the other hand, merely yawned in response and nuzzled into the floor of the car more. At Nova's paws, she lay, curled-up in an uncomfortable looking ball. Her long, elegant tail was wrapped around her body, and occasionally flicked around in the wind. Nova shot a disgruntled look at her, before looking ahead again.

Wes smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

It wasn't long before Wes pulled his bike to a halt in front of the Outskirt Stand. The train carriage, unsurprisingly, was even more run-down than he'd previously thought. Though it had seemed appealing while driving through endless stretches of desert, Wes was beginning to wonder whether or not it was a good idea bunking here for the night.

The wall of the train was covered in graffiti, almost entirely, so that the wall could barely be seen other than small paint-less patches that looked rather out of place compared to the colour. The windows could barely be called windows; the areas where the glass used to be were cracked and, in some places, missing entirely. Wes had to wonder how many fights had broken out inside the train before the owners (if there were any) had given up and stopped replacing the glass.

Still, he was there now, and he didn't really have to stay for more than a night.

Beside him, the car that he'd seen before was lying limp on the ground, no longer hovering and looking quite useless. Though it hadn't looked like it from afar, it was probably the cleanest thing in the area. Out of the few vehicles that were parked around the train, Wes's was probably the dirtiest, but he didn't really mind. That was the price he paid for stealing the first one he saw from the hideout in his attempt to escape.

When he entered the train, the ramp that led to the door creaked under his weight. It felt thin underneath his boots and he found himself gripping the railings in order to hold himself up. The ramp seemed critically unstable, though Wes knew that hoping for it to be fixed anytime soon was stupid.

As he slid open the door, it made a rough creaking sound that made him flinch, but that was nothing compared to the large amount of muttering inside of the train. Stepping inside, he saw around a dozen people sitting on couches, most of them with drinks or large, grimy plates of food in front of them. Some of them, Wes noticed when he tuned his ears in, were talking about ruthless travel tails and stories of them being stuck out in the desert. If Wes hadn't just blown up a building, he would have accused them of lying, but any heroic deed right now seemed perfectly plausible.

A beefy man behind the counter at the front of the train turned to him and placed his fist - which was almost the size of Wes's head - on the table. "Can I get you a drink, Sir?"

The fact that he'd called Wes "Sir" was extremely unexpected. Wes eyed him suspiciously for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "No, thanks. Not really in the mood for anything at the moment.

The man laughed heartily, turning around and beginning to clean glass mugs with a rag that looked dirtier than any of the items it was "cleaning". "I understand. Place doesn't offer much. Aren't you a little young to be travelling Orre?"

Wes sat down on a stool in front of the counter and shrugged. "I'm seventeen," he said, glancing around at his surroundings. On the wall was a cracked television, one that seemed far too luxurious for such a place. He wondered if it even worked. This didn't look like a place to have good electrical circuits. The lights hanging from the roof were flickering nervously while being knocked around by the shaking of the train, which appeared to be caused by the large generator in the corner, though Wes wasn't sure how much electricity it would provide, as it seemed old and was dented or chipped in places.

"I've met plenty of travellers in my day, but most of them have passed their teen years." The bartender paused and took a sip from a small glass on the counter, filled with a strange looking orange liquid. "Dangerous place, Orre."

"My Pokémon are capable." Wes gestured behind him to Nova and Sina, both of which were staring uncertainly at the goings-on on where they were staying. "Besides, I'm not one to be knocked around." He'd mention certain other things, but telling a stranger that his Umbreon had just blown up a building didn't seem appropriate at the time.

"Well, that's fair enough." The bartender paused, looking around at all of his customers. "Nice to have a decent conversation here. Don't really get too many because of, well…" He gestured around him. "I mean, there have been plenty of amazing stories in the past, but I'll bet you about ninety-nine out of one-hundred are absolute barnacles."

"I can imagine."

At that point, the television on the wall flickered on, and the entire train fell silent. Wes, too, turned his attention to the clean-looking newsreader on the screen, who waited a few seconds for the news jingle to die down before beginning to speak.

"Reports have just risen that a strange building has exploded in Eclo Canyon. Upon further investigation, police were able to discover that it was Team Snagem's hideout."

The silence around the train seemed to stiffen, though a few mutters arose from the crowd. Wes couldn't help but smirk. They seemed to be asking themselves questions. "Who did it? Why did they do it?" If only they knew that the person who'd done it was in the same room as them.

"Police are unsure of what caused the explosion, but a strangely-shaped hole in one of the walls and the evidence of unnaturally falling rocks suggests that pokémon were involved."

Nova flicked his tail, his ear twitching. He stood up a little prouder and turned his nose up into the air.

"Upon discovering the building, police say that they were unable to arrest any members, and the hideout had long since been abandoned. Stay tuned for further reports on the matter."

As the news jingle played again, the people in the train erupted into conversation, the sounds of the television entirely drowned out by the noise. People didn't exactly seem unhappy about it. Actually, most of them seemed to be celebrating. One of the men, who Wes assumed had had a little too much to drink, leapt up onto one of the couches and threw a fist into the air, yelling, "Down with Team Snagem!"

"Oi, get off the couch, mate!" This yell came from the bartender, who leapt over the counter and rushed over to deal with the ruckus.

Wes felt something rub up against his leg, and he looked down to see Sina purring at his knees. He smiled and stroked her under the chin, and she nuzzled into his touch before drifting off to sleep, her head resting on his leg.

"Phew, that was…" There was a pause in the surprisingly quiet voice that came from beside Wes. "Terrifying, to say the least."

Undeniably confused as to whether the voice was aimed at him or not, Wes turned towards the source of the voice. Sitting next to him on one of the bar stools was a man who looked around twenty. His spiky pink hair was gelled up, and from the looks of it hadn't been washed in a few weeks. The man wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead and leaned his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on his palms.

"You were stuck in the middle of that?" Wes, deciding that it was aimed towards him, pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the scene behind him.

The man laughed. "Yeah, some people tend to get a bit overenthusiastic around here." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it across his forehead, before pocketing it again. He looked completely exhausted, with bags under his bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes.

"You look like you haven't slept in days," remarked Wes. "How long have you been here for?"

"Two weeks," answered the man. "I only get about two hours of sleep a night. There isn't really too much to sleep on around here." He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palm. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"I'm travelling," Wes lied. "I'm from Johto, but I decided to come here for a bit of a challenge."

Wes had made up this story and gone through it in his head on multiple occasions just in case someone had asked him a question like that. He knew it would happen eventually if he was hotel hopping, or if he was going to hold a causal conversation with anyone. He had a lot of lies as answers for small talk, and each one he'd practiced the scenario in his head over and over.

"Johto? That must have been nice." The man leaned back against the wall and rested his head on his hands. "You certainly fit in here, though." Laughing, he gestured to Wes' blue, tattered trench coat. "I would never have known you were from another region if you hadn't have told me. Strange choice to come here, though. But you look like you can handle it."

Wes shrugged, not at all nervous about the situation. Actually, talking in a conversation fuelled with lies was far more comfortable than talking to the soulless Snagem grunts he'd previously been stuck with. "I wanted a bit of a challenge." He ran his finger through the dust on the table, drawing meaningless lines on the scratched wood. "I changed my clothes to fit in." Wanting to test something (though the test itself was rather strange) he looked at his hands, then back up at the man and said, "Hey, what would you say if I told you that I blew up that building?"

"What, the Snagem hideout?"

Wes nodded.

The man laughed. "I'd say that's complete Tauros shit."

In saying that, a massive weight was lifted off of Wes' shoulders. Now seemed a good time to change the topic. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Willie," replied the man. At that point, the head of a Pokémon popped up from his lap, licking its lips and staring curiously at Wes, black-surrounded eyes blinking a few times. At this, Willie laughed and scratched the creature on the head with his index finger. "This is Zigzagoon."

"Zig!" yipped the Zigzagoon, wagging its bushy tail back and forth and ruffling its striped fur.

Wes couldn't help but smile, before replying with, "I'm Wes." He let the pokémon sniff his finger before he turned around and gestured to his own two Pokémon, who were watching the situation curiously. "This is Nova and Sina," he said as he gestured to the two respectively.

"Eeveelutions?" Willie suddenly looked intrigued, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "They're rare in Orre, or anywhere, for that matter!" He clicked his finger and pointed. "I'll bet you got them in Johto, right?"

"Uh, sure," muttered Wes uncertainly, having not rehearsed this situation in his head. It seemed perfectly legitimate, but he was silently praying that Willie wouldn't ask any further details.

Luckily for him, the conversation was temporarily cut off by the bartender emerging from the other side of the train, looking proud of himself. The remaining people in the room were watching him wearily. It wasn't long, however, before they turned back to their regular groups and engaged in conversation about the recent happenings at the Snagem hideout.

As he approached the bar once more, he let out a relieved sigh and flopped down on a stool next to Wes. He slicked his hair back with his massive hand as he began to speak, sounding considerably more tired than he previously had. "This place is alright, but sometimes I think it's best I don't let the electricity work for the television. Some folks get overexcited about those current events," he said. "I found this place when I was travelling a few years ago, made it my home. Apparently, other travellers had the same idea, so I decided to make it a rest stop for 'em." He took a swig of an anonymous, bubbling liquid from a mug that didn't seem nearly safe enough to drink. He turned to the Willie and smiled lightly.

Willie returned the expression a little more enthusiastically than the one given. "I'll take a ginger beer," he stated, almost as if he'd rehearsed what he was going to say.

Nodding, the bartender turned towards the shelves of bottles behind him and began to dig through them, searching for the right drink. As he did so, he spoke absentmindedly. "Ever since Willie got here, I've had some decent conversation. Most of the folks 'round here are alright, but you do get the occasional one that likes his drinks a little too much." After a few seconds of frustration, he pulled out a bottle of ginger beer and held it up in triumph. "Here yah go, kid."

Willie caught the bottle neatly and nodded curtly in thanks, instantly popping the lid off and taking a large sip, throwing the liquid down his throat. "Thanks, Baz."

In seeing Wes' confusion at the name, "Baz" laughed heartily and patted his shoulder a little too firmly. "Real name's Byron," he explained, flopping down on the stool behind the bar with a hefty sigh. "But people around here call be Baz. Well, anyone who actually bothers to stay long enough to learn my name, that is."

"Fair enough." Wes shrugged, placing his hands behind his head and twirling his chair around to face Nova and Sina. "I think we're going to get some rest."

Before anyone could question him, he stood up and began walking outside, quickly followed by his two, half-asleep Pokémon. "Don't think that's going to happen in here." He pointed a thumb to the gang of travellers who were taking up the majority of the seating. At the moment, it was a choice between sleeping outside or trying to sleep on a barstool, and outside seemed slightly more appealing.

A cold chill travelled down his spine when he stepped outside into the night. He hadn't realised how long he'd been inside the train, but it had been long enough for the sun to set entirely. The large, rusty vehicle that Wes had seen when he approached was still lying on the sand, though this time he swore he saw it moving slightly.

"Just the wind…" he muttered to himself, though the look Sina gave him from below told him that it was probably much more than that.

Still, there were enough weird people in Orre that it was likely that whatever was moving inside the vehicle was just a slab of food left long enough in the back of the truck to grow life on it.

Chuckling to himself, Wes sat down on the side of the train, leaning his back against the cold, rough metal. For a first night of freedom, it definitely wasn't the most comfortable place, but it was better than it could have been, he supposed. With Sina and Nova curled up beside him, he was relatively warm. Warm enough for his eyes to close quickly and for him to fall into a deeper sleep than he'd had in awhile.

-.-.-

"Ah, that was some good grub, eh, Folly?"

"I say, best food-" The second man gestured to the van absentmindedly with his right hand "-and best catch." The wink he gave would make anyone uneasy.

Wes peaked around the corner of the Outskirt Stand, watching the scene with overly curious eyes. The voices of the two men had woken him up, and he'd soon learnt that it was those two that were the owners of the rusty old hover car. They looked about as run down as anyone else in the Outskirt Stand did, one of them with a beanie hanging down over his head and the other with a strange spiked haircut that had the colours to resemble fire.

"Mmph!"

With the sound coming out of the truck, the spikey-haired one gave the side of the vehicle a harsh thump. "Quiet, you! You'll make a scene."

"Girl's got a mouth on her, that's for sure." Beanie-Head let out a chortle, though he shut up with a sharp glare from his companion. "Sorry, Folly."

Folly shook his head. "Come on, let's get out of here, Trudly."

With that, the two clambered into the vehicle and kicked on the engine. It took a few seconds for the car to start up, dangerous-looking puffs of smoke coughing out of the exhaust-pipe before the car quivered up into the air and took off, hovering just barely a few inches above the ground.

From the ramp coming out of the train, Willie emerged, scratching his head tiredly. He certainly looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes. "Thank Arceus for coffee," he muttered to himself, staring off at the car in the distance. "Well that wasn't suspicious at all."

Frowning, Wes emerged from the side of the train where he'd been hiding, closely followed by Sina and Nova. If Willie wasn't so tired, he probably would have been shocked by his sudden appearance.

"You know them?" Wes asked curiously. He didn't like the sound of the grunt that came out of the car.

Willie nodded. "They're regulars here," he said. "Trudly and Folly. No one knows where they come from. They started coming here a few years ago, according to Baz. If they didn't come here so often, I would have assumed that sack in their car was a kidnapped girl or something." He chuckled at his own joke.

Wes grimaced. "You really need to sleep, mate," he said, sounding utterly unimpressed.

"Good idea." Willie yawned and turned around, dragging himself back into the train. "They're probably headed to Phenac City, just west of here, if you want to follow them. Though I was kidding about the kidnapping thing."

As he tripped back into the battered up train, Wes turned on his heel and looked down at Nova and Sina, who were now eagerly flicking their tails back and forth awaiting command. "Well, looks like we're headed to Phenac." At this, the two Pokémon nodded and trotted over to Wes' bike, hopping into the sidecar and taking their usual places. Wes did the same, only onto the bike itself.

Revving the engine, he kicked the bike into action and sped off through the desert, beginning his journey as a Team-Snagem blacklisted.

-.-.-

For those of you who keep up with my antics (or stories, whatever) you'll know that I've been on… hiatus for a while. I wasn't sure whether or not I was going to keep this story going at all, but people keep telling me to. So I decided to compromise.

Pokémon Colosseum: Darkness of Orre was pretty tacky. I'm surprised it had any readers. So my compromise is to rewrite the whole thing. Since the old version was an experiment to see if I would like writing in first person or not, I figured it wasn't fair to anyone that I keep it going. But if you wanted it, then I may as well deliver it.

So, I think this is a good enough comeback after months of writer's block. Seriously, though, I've been useless.

For my personal followers, I'm sorry I've been off so long. I just didn't want to throw a shitty chapter out because I wanted to get it out quicker. Quality over quantity, right?

Hey, maybe I can make a comeback.

I guess the inspiration for this was that I didn't want Wes to be the good guy. He kind of just accidentally does everything, including becoming the protagonist. If it were up to him, he'd be the antagonist of this, but you'll see what I mean later.

I'd love to return to my old routine of updating one or two stories every Sunday, but I have year ten exams and a new job to work around, so I highly doubt that's going to happen. But I'll try my best. But please, don't beg me to update. Not to sound rude or anything, but I'll update when I want to. But since most of you wanted this story back, here it is. Better, in my opinion.

That's not to say I don't like your support. You're all lovely. :)

I sound so grumpy, I'm sorry. I'll be my happy-go-lucky self in the next chapter's notes, hopefully. Until then, thanks for reading, and stay tuned for chapter 2.

(And, yes, Pyrite Town now has an airport #dealwithit)

- Misaki -