"You're mine!"

Raozya chucked a Poké Ball at his latest defeated foe, a poodle-like Furfrou that was just about out of energy. The fluffy dog creature could barely stand, yet a glint of murderous desire continued to imbue its eyes. It still had some fight left, but not enough energy to put it into motion. All it could do was wait for the inevitable conclusion of its freedom in the grassy field and the commencement of its servitude to its new master.

Raozya's victorious Fennekin, Napalm, stood in a confident pose while attempting to catch its breath from the furious battle. An aura of passionate frustration was radiating from the Furfrou—this pleased Napalm. It would probably give its new friend the usual hazing before accepting it as a member of the team.

The Poké Ball collided with the Furfrou's forehead with a WHACK, robbing it of consciousness and allowing it to be sucked unhindered into the little spherical storage device as a vortex of energized particles.

"I actually witnessed the moment when his soul was crushed. It was beautiful."

Raozya turned his attention to the source of the remarkably dark statement. Joas, his impish-natured Espurr, was relaxing on a nearby tree branch...upside-down. The small psychic feline was most likely doing it just to show off, leading Raozya to cock a skeptical brow. "Don't tell me you swept up the pieces?"

"Too small, not enough flavor. I don't have that ability, anyway, but it is on my to-do list."

Raozya sighed in relief and called Napalm back into its Ball. "Good. The last thing I need is for my new Pokémon to have a brush with madness. It was already a hair away from tears."

Joas directed his eerie, vacant gaze to his master, who didn't witness the stare but did feel his skin begin to crawl. The former noticed a tiny smirk on the latter's face. "Are you making hair puns? Really? I knew you were barbaric, but you're cutting it close to outright savagery."

Raozya waved a hand in dismissal of Joas' comment. "Shave your criticism for later. I'm too hungry toupee attention."

He watched with glee as the Poké Ball containing his Furfrou disappeared as a stream of energy, darting off into the distance in the direction of The Jolly Pirate's Supply Crate. It was a supermarket that doubled as a Pokémon Center, and that was where his career as a Pokémon Trainer had begun. He only hoped the people who worked there knew what they were doing.

Joas could do nothing but cringe from the bad puns. It hurts...IT HURTS. "I'll have to introduce you to my taxidermist sometime..."

The blood within Raozya's veins went cold. "Uhh—"

"...Because he has an excellent lemon muffin recipe. You said you were hungry, so it brought back some cheerful memories." Take that.

As a Zoroark disguised as a human, Raozya considered the word "taxidermist" to be rather unnerving. He wasn't against the fur industry, but he had heard all the stories about Team Rocket's treatment of sentient Pokémon such as himself. That's what the TV had said, anyway; it had been the subject of an episode of a late-night conspiracy theory show, but he certainly wouldn't put it past those goons. I know better than to watch those programs before bed. "Y-yeah. Some other time. Let's take a break, then catch one more Pokémon and then we can go have lunch. I know a seafood place we haven't been to yet."

It had been four days since Raozya had started his journey as a Pokémon Trainer. He had spent nearly all of his time training the Pokémon he had caught, as well as capturing several more thanks to Joas' Lovecraft-style psychic attacks. While Raozya was happy with what he had caught, he was looking for a greater diversity of types for his roster. As it stood, the majority were Normal type.

What excited him even more was the prospect of capturing other Pokémon Trainers. Upon further research, as well as field testing over the previous few days, he had concluded that the standard Poké Ball was insufficient to capture a human. Something was preventing it from recognizing humans as a legitimate target for storage, and he was determined to find out what it was and how to bypass it. This would be one of his primary goals over the next few weeks.

Joas floated down from his branch and landed next to Raozya. "A break requires a snack. This will prepare us for a larger feast at the restaurant. An appetizer, if you will."

Raozya tried to ignore the disturbing aura of Joas' dead stare, but he was failing miserably. "Cool. I have some snacks."

"Lime Poppers. I require them."

They moved to an area of shorter grass and took a seat. Raozya slipped off his red backpack and set it in his lap, digging around until he had found a bag of Wacky Uncle Citrus' Lime Poppers. Each bag contained several small, round pastries that had a pleasant crunch, as well as a sour lime flavor so intense that several children across Kalos had required hospitalization to make their lips stop puckering. One child had even imploded as singularity before evaporating as a pleasant-smelling lime mist, but the company had done a good job at covering up that little fiasco.

The warning label failed in all its many doomsaying attempts to convince Raozya and Joas to eat the ambiguously safe treats in moderation. They weren't children, and they certainly weren't cowards. They were hungry, and they wished to sample this untasted and tantalizing flavor sensation.

Joas casually popped a Popper into his mouth, biting down into the crispy nugget. He might as well have bitten into a portal to a universe comprised of nothing but concentrated lime essence. The flavor executed a kickboxing tournament on his tongue before forcing its way into his bloodstream like an invading army. Dear sweet Arceus, it's like an opera in my mouth.

He actually managed to crack an almost unnoticeable smile due to the homicidal burst of flavor. His eyelid twitched, and this impulse traveled to his left ear, causing it to lift by the barest fraction of an inch.

The resulting psychic pulse made the Sun flicker, but only in their immediate vicinity due to it being a light-warping phenomenon rather than a temporary failure of solar fusion. Mortified, Joas swallowed the Popper and stared into the distance. "My apologies. I usually have more self control."

Raozya silently rejoiced in his decision to wait until Joas had tested the first bite. He could do nothing but imagine himself being crushed down to a speck of subatomic size, and thus opted for a simple pickle instead. If a lesser eldritch abomination such as Joas couldn't handle it, he wasn't going to try his luck. "It happens. There's no telling what they put in these things."

"Probably the tears of forsaken children...not that I know how those taste." He looked away and sheepishly cleared his throat.

Never before had Raozya felt better about having stocked up on sleeping pills. "Okay. How about a pickle?"

A small bag of lemon-flavored hard candies levitated from the top of his backpack and into Joas' lap. The bag opened itself and spat a piece of candy into Joas' paw. "I'm fine."

Raozya's eyebrows furrowed. He brushed off the incident and plucked an oversized pickle from his backpack. Candy could not compare to the raw, savory crunch of a fresh pickle.

The moment the pickle had been unwrapped, Joas turned his attention from his candy to Raozya. "Incoming."

"What do you..."—His eyes went wide—"...NO."

Before Raozya could hide the pickle, it disappeared from his grasp as a brown streak darted by. The culprit Eevee scampered off a short distance to the edge of the clearing and devoured the pickle with haste, then stood its ground and shot a challenging glare at Raozya.

It was war. Raozya considered first going for his large stun gun, the SIMBYL Domination, but he grabbed a Poké Ball instead and reciprocated the Eevee's glare. The stun gun would have made things easier, not to mention more satisfying, but he preferred the extra battle experience. "So nice of you to volunteer for my roster. Cutstab, go! Fury Cutter the ever-loving Internets out of that little thief!"

He chucked the Poké Ball, and his Honedge immediately materialized. Joas was in the middle of an ardent facepalm; he couldn't understand why Raozya had given such an elegant weapon such a ridiculous name.

Defying gravity, Cutstab unsheathed itself with its pommel sash and launched toward the Eevee, spinning like a sawblade. The Eevee jumped over Cutstab, but the latter was well-prepared for this. The Eevee only realized its mistake when it found itself face-first in the grass, having been knocked from the air by the sheath that Cutstab had flung overhead.

Raozya grinned. "Good! Tackle!"

Cutstab swooped back around and slapped the dazed Eevee with the flat side of its blade, knocking it into the ground even harder than before.

"Again!"

The action was repeated, preventing the Eevee from returning to its feet. It wasn't even sure which way was up anymore, allowing it to be sucked into a Poké Ball without effort. The Poké Ball then transformed into energy and shot off toward the Pokémon Center.

This victory was satisfying to Raozya because, despite the fact that Eevee was a Normal type, it could evolve into several different types. Training this one would give him time to decide which type he needed later.

Joas flicked another piece of candy into his mouth and clapped his stubby paws together. "Oh goody, another Normal type. Good thing it can mutate, maybe into a Steel or Bug type."

Raozya called Cutstab back into its Ball. "I don't think those Eeveelutions have been invented yet. If it could evolve into any type, I'd be holding out for a Dragon type. I wonder what that would be called."

"Puff the Magic Eevee? Smaugeon? Perhaps Rayquazeon?"

"Heh, or maybe Goodreon."

"Yes, but hopefully not a large, dripping mass of cholesterol like its namesake."

Raozya rubbed his chin in thought. "That's true. Hey, speaking of cholesterol, I believe I hear the siren call of lunch. I did say 'one more Pokémon' after all."

"Aww, I was just about begin a round of complaining."

The bag of lemon candy sealed itself shut and darted back into Raozya's backpack. Joas' stare somehow intensified despite remaining unchanged in its appearance. Instead of conveying a sense of imminent murder, it conveyed hunger. "Let us expedite our plans for consumption."

Raozya slipped his backpack back on and led the way to the nearest road, Route 7. A flash of light and a pop noise emanated from his belt, and Napalm scampered up its master's back and took a seat upon his head. Raozya didn't think much of it—Napalm had developed a habit of escaping from its Poké Ball so it could get some fresh air and exercise, enjoy the sights, and pretend to be a novelty hat.

The distance between the field they were in and the nearest shops of Camphrier Town was short enough that it would only take ten minutes of walking, and a short distance further to their hotel. Closer still was a small strip mall, and that was where they were heading first.

Raozya pointed a finger toward the middle of the shopping center. "We'll stop by that shop over there first. I have something to take care of."

Joas turned his attention to where Raozya was pointing, seeing a variety of shops. "Oh, well if you feel as though lingerie would suit you better than your current getup, then—"

"Not THAT shop! The one next to it!"

"The health food store?"

"The videogame store."

"To proliferate your budding identity as an otaku?"

Raozya raised his hand for a facepalm, but stopped when he noticed Napalm leaning forward in an attempt to look at the ground. Not wanting to bop his Fennekin on the nose, he rubbed it behind the ear instead, plunging it into a state of drooling bliss. "There's an automated Pokémon swap post in front of it."

"Ah, the place where a beloved Pokémon loses its purpose in favor of a different one, cast aside like an old toy. Favoritism is a cruel mistress."

Joas' comment went unanswered as they approached the machine that sat in front of the store. The boxy machine featured a simple touchscreen near the top and a compartment beneath it. Raozya waved his Pokédex in front of the machine's scanner lens, prompting the computer to respond, "Initializing session for Trainer Rozza Reyo Raozya. You have eleven Pokémon in storage. Please select a Pokémon from the list and place the one you wish to swap into the compartment."

An amused snort nearly escaped Joas' nose; he hadn't heard Raozya's full name up until that point. "Good heavens, with a name like that, you were practically made for Team Rocket."

Raozya had seen that one coming a mile away. "At least it's easy to remember."

He plucked his Sentret's Poké Ball from his belt and placed it in the swap compartment, then selected the Eevee icon on the touchscreen.

• • •

A confirmation beep sounded as Raozya's command traveled to the central computer core of the Jolly Pirate's Supply Crate's PokéCenter section. This colossal underground facility was more of a warehouse than anything, illuminated only by a scant few blue lights that lined row after row of Poké Ball storage towers. Vast and cold, these towers stretched up from the abyssal blackness of the floor to the equally dark ceiling above and were covered in knob-like protrusions.

An expanding curtain of light extended from an ascending metal portcullis on the side of a tower, allowing an automated drone to escape. Like a bee with a mission, the drone propelled itself to a higher altitude and approached one particular knob. It sent out a proboscis-like boom that entered a round port on the knob's surface and sucked a single Poké Ball from the collection within. The boom quickly retracted, and the drone darted back into the blinding light from which it had originated and placed the Poké Ball into a large teleporter.

• • •

The swap machine's Poké Ball compartment sealed itself off with a panel of glass and made a few mechanical buzzing noises. The Poké Ball disappeared in a flash of light, and another Poké Ball materialized in its place shortly thereafter.

The screen displayed a message of thanks, followed by an offer to purchase lottery tickets. Raozya narrowed his eyes and declined.

He grabbed the new Poké Ball and held it ahead of his face, examining it with a sadistic smile. "Hello there, Eevee. Welcome to the team—we need someone with your tenacity, and your taste in food is a bonus. Prepare yourself for the ride of your life." He brought it even closer to his face and spoke in a more hushed voice. "Your goal is to learn Self-Destruct. Can you learn Self-Destruct?"

Joas floated up to Raozya's eye level and stared at him from the opposite side of the Ball. "Do you really intend to teach it Self-Destruct? Have you finally lost the last chipped marble that was aimlessly rattling around in the cavernous void where a brain would normally be?"

Raozya returned the stare with a glare. "It has been my dream to teach Self-Destruct to an Eevee."

"I don't think that's physically possible."

"I shall make possible the impossible, and Eevee will be at the forefront of my campaign!"

Napalm yipped in approval. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Joas had just lost a large chunk of his faith in Raozya. He floated over to the backpack and zipped himself inside. "If you need me, I'll be contemplating life."

"Oh, okay. Don't do that for too long; you might lose your appetite."

Joas muttered something rude under his breath before speaking aloud, "My appetite will not be lost. It's clinging to me like a certain Fennekin."

"And speaking of starvation, I have one more thing to do before we eat."

Joas cringed in disappointment as Raozya walked over to a grassy area and tossed the Eevee's Poké Ball. The small creature materialized in front of him, none too pleased with its capture but no longer furious about it, either. It figured it might as well make the best of its situation; it didn't have anything better to do. Perhaps this Trainer wouldn't be so bad. After all, captivity meant free food, protection from illness, a higher survival rate in fights, plus a loving relationship with its Trai—

"Can you explode?"

The Eevee stared up at Raozya in shock. What it had heard from within the confines of its Ball earlier had been true—it had thought such words were merely a hallucination brought about by the Honedge's beating.

Judging by the lack of a response, Raozya figured he had used the wrong words. "Can you learn Self-Destruct?"

The Eevee shook its head vigorously.

"Are you sure? Can you try? Are you willing to push the boundaries of reality and become a legend amongst your kind? I'll buy you a pickle."

Thoughts swirled around in the Eevee's mind. It wondered if this Trainer was insane...or truly ambitious. At the very least, the pickle was tempting. Reluctantly, it nodded its head.

"Neat. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but focus your mind on explosions. Massive, fiery explosions. Mushroom clouds. Craters. Countless stacks of TNT. Think of all the things that can go off with a big boom."

Joas was struggling against the vicious desire to exit the backpack and launch Raozya into the horizon with an unbridled psychic discharge, but he felt that such a thing would be a tad overkill. Instead, he popped his head out from the backpack and peeked over Raozya's shoulder to see if the new recruit would actually make any progress.

Perplexed, but willing, the Eevee focused its thoughts on what Raozya had suggested, all while it squeezed and strained in an attempt to build up pressure.

Nothing but a tiny poot noise resulted, along with a mortified Eevee and a moment of silence.

"Eh, you tried." Raozya called the Eevee back into its Ball and placed it back on his belt. "We'll work on it. I'll get you a pickle when we go shopping after lunch. I'll also give you a name at some point; I can't think of one at the moment."

Joas wasn't sure if he should facepalm or go off in a fit of manic laughter. He compromised with a smirk and descended back into the backpack, having decided to take a nap while waiting for Raozya to reach the restaurant.

They departed the strip mall and began their journey to the place that was sure to cure the emptiness of their stomachs.