Pokemon Panic: MSF
Prologus
…
Remember, remember
The fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason
Why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
-Guy Fawkes, 1605
…
The room was bursting with noise, with yells, jeers, and taunts thrown about with wild abandon. It was dark, with the only the circular stage in the center of the room lit in spotlight. Gym leaders of regions and citizens alike were packed in that room, all here to see one person judged for their unspeakable crime. There were easily five hundred, and with TV cameras hidden off in the darkness, people all over the world would be seeing this.
The noise quieted when a wide hole opened in the stage and a person rose from beneath. His pale hair and skin sharply contrasted with his suit, making him seem even paler in the bright spotlight. He was Steven Stone, and he had a solemn look on his face as he faced the crowd. He took a deep breath and brought a microphone to his lips.
"Citizens," he began, "thank you for coming here. On Christmas Day, a tragedy struck our nations. The MSF-1112 Aigaion was hijacked and sent on a collision course with the New Castelia SkyCity, sending thousands to their deaths. Only one person survived the initial crash and is convicted of causing the incident. As this took place over international waters with entities that had no clear ties to any regions, we must decide what will happen based on our different laws. One such tradition in Unova is that based on prior evidence, even after the sentence is given, the people may intervene if it seems that person is not guilty. So, citizens, based on your knowledge of the evidence, do you feel the sentence is just?"
The room was immediately overtaken in an enraged roar as people screamed at him, cried, mourned, and shouted obscenities. Steven Stone snorted at the reaction, as if he didn't expect anything less.
"Then bring the accused for judgement."
Steven stood back, and the hole in the stage slid open once more. The room went quiet with hushed anticipation as the elevator slowly rose, grinding in its tracks until finally its burden came into view.
A chair came into view, the kind you would see at a dentist's office with an elevated footrest. This one was made out of cold steel with shackles on the armrests, and where the occupant's ankles, waist and neck would go. A woman sat in the thing, lost in a thousand-yard stare.
As soon as she appeared the room exploded.
"Kill that bitch!"
"You deserve worse than death!"
"Murderer!"
The yells continued like this as Steven Stone approached the woman. As he looked down at her, a thought niggled at the back of his mind: Could she really have done this? She was barely into her twenties - could she have really committed this atrocity?
He heard that after her sentencing she was denied any sense of respect. This even included clothes, instead given strips of cloth to cover her modesty in her final moments.
Though it seemed like she was lost in her mind, Steven could see her jaw clenching in humiliation.
His apprehensions of watching his friend die disappeared.
Their childhood memories were cast aside; she deserved everything she was getting.
Public executions were things lost to history, though in this case, it was well justified.
He just wished it hadn't have been her.
He strode over to the young woman and leaned towards her ear.
"Are you happy?" he hissed. "Did you get your moments of fame? Do you even feel regret, Laura?"
The woman turned her head toward him with most forlorn, hopeless expression he had ever seen in his life.
"…It wasn't me."
He saw her lips move, but her voice was lost to the roaring crowd.
For a moment he felt numb and was almost compelled to believe her… but that was quickly overtaken by contempt, and he snarled down at her as he looked back to the crowd.
"As there are none who wish to vouch for the accused, the execution of Laura Rosewater will proceed," he growled, staring right at her. Her look of utter betrayal sent a dagger through his heart, but he shoved the feeling down with a wave of hatred.
Steven Stone began to rethink humanity when the room erupted into cheers at hearing her final sentence. To think that people would want to see someone die before their eyes…
Then again many people in this room - no, the world had lost someone because of her.
Steven raised his hand. Once the room quieted somewhat, he yelled to the woman, "You will be exposed to high-intensity antimatter radiation, crystallizing your body. Your mind will be suspended in stasis for seven hundred years, and once your sentence is complete your body will be shattered. Do you have any final words?"
The woman remained silent.
"…Fine. Begin."
Steven Stone stood back as a grinding sound came from the ceiling, hidden in the shadows. A complicated machine slowly came into view, with tubes, hoses, and blinking lights covering its cylindrical body. A pulsing light at the bottom stared at the woman.
This was the emitter, ready to release the deadly energy at a single command.
It continued grinding its way down, stopping only when it was a few feet above the woman.
"Commence charging."
The woman gulped in fear as she stared at the contraption. A low hum filled the room, reverberating in the pit of everyone's gut. Electricity crackled over the device's surface and the lights pulsed.
The hum grew, slowly turning into a high-pitched drone. People covered their ears – restrained as she was, the woman could do no such thing and gritted her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.
Stone snorted as he twisted in his earplugs. She deserved everything she was getting.
Finally the hum stopped and a collective sigh passed through the room. It had been replaced by a quick, quiet throb that sent unease through the crowd.
It was time.
The woman gulped one last time and squeezed her eyes shut, willing her body to stop trembling. It was only when Steven leapt off the stage that the machine fired.
It was strange what happened next. Some people expected a laser. Others expected some kind of flash and for it to be over. However, what they didn't expect was the machine to growl and form a ball of swirling energy in front of the emitter… and right above the woman.
The energy shifted and undulated on itself, a sphere and yet not at the same time. It blurred, seeming to reach out to the crowd one second and the next be contained. It was grey and black, and yet filled with every color imaginable.
It was strange to see such a paradox come to existence before their eyes.
After a few tense seconds of bated breath, it happened.
The woman was unable to resist opening her eyes when the machine fired and was enthralled by the orb of sheer energy before her. She was unaware of the gentle prickling along her skin.
She was unaware that, after several seconds, her skin began to shimmer.
It started with her right knee. First it began glow and quickly settled into a dull, glassy substance. It crept down her leg and spread to her thigh, and her other leg began the process as it traveled to her stomach.
The woman only noticed it happening when she tried to flex her fingers and they refused to obey.
She looked panicked as it traveled up her arms and waist, but found that despite the tingling it didn't hurt.
Letting a final cry of fear she looked to Stone, and once again felt betrayed when he gave her a dark glare. Her sight faded when it spread to her neck and finally over her face.
She wasn't able to see the glare melt into pity.
The emitter gave out one final flash of light, and by the time the onlookers could see again it was done.
The woman was gone… in a way. In the chair was a replica of her, the entire body cast in ethereal, light blue crystal. Light caught the crystalline form and took people's breath away.
It was like a sculptor had taken someone and made a perfect copy of them. However, this wasn't copy and that crystalline sculpture had been a living, breathing woman named Laura Rosewater.
She was a terrorist guilty of killing millions, now trapped in a crystal stasis until the end of the millennia. Yet despite that the sight of the perfect crystalline form was beautiful.
Stone let out a shaky breath, struggling with the hollow feeling that filled his chest. He was supposed to be unaffected by this… but seeing the look on his departed friend's face shook him to his core. It still did, and the expression of shock, guilt, and betrayal would be forever etched on the crystalline statue.
Two men and a teenager in the crowd looked on. One with blonde hair and wearing a combat vest struggled to control himself, while the red-haired teen gritted his teeth. The final man clenched his fists in fury.
All he could see was red as he shoved his way to the stage. This wasn't over.
…
It felt like I was floating in space. Unable ta move, unable ta think, unable ta even breath. All I could do was watch my memories play out before me like a movie, over and over and over and over again.
I don't know how much time has passed. Every second feels like an eternity.
And this was ta be my fate until the end of days or someone took a hammer to me.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Laura Rosewater. Some people call me Ellis or Grey though, take yer pick. Doesn't really matter at this point.
I suppose that things would make more sense if I start at the beginning. Not the very beginning, of course – that would take too long. No, I'll start six months ago, before things truly went down the shitter.
My name is Laura Rosewater, and this is my story.