This is a work of fiction. The types of relationship, and the acts presented in this story, are not reflective of the author's personal tastes, nor are they supported or endorsed by the author. This story is intended for mature readers, and the author implores you to step back if you are affected in any way by any of the raised and listed themes, as they will be fully explored.
These include, but are not limited to:

Torture
Abuse, both physical and mental
Body horror
Kidnapping/abduction
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)
Rape/noncon
Incest
Suicide/self-harm
Drug use

With these themes and this warning in mind, take caution and read responsibly. Thank you for reading.

Part One: Perfect Son

Sun was alone. Completely, terrifyingly alone. Some thick, sticky liquid - assumedly blood - ran down from his forehead, and a throbbing pain reinforced that assumption.
He couldn't see. Darkness pressed in on his eyeballs. They ached with a dull buzzing, and his body felt alien somehow, as if he'd only just been put in control. He tried to raise an arm but felt no response.

He didn't know how long he had been there. He felt like something had changed since he was last in the pit. Was he there hours ago, or days? It was impossible to keep track of time. It was a square space, maybe just over a metre on all sides. He had to curl up to fit inside.

He couldn't cry anymore. He understood crying would get him nothing. He lay for a minute, an hour, two, three. Or maybe it was merely fifteen minutes alone in the cold and the dark.

They'd let him out eventually. Night time, usually. They didn't have much of a choice - they'd kidnapped him. If he was seen they were in for a lot of questions, none of which would look good for them.

He struggled to remember what had happened and when it clicked he immediately regretted the attempt. He had been strapped down and something new had been put into him before he was knocked out - put straight into his eyes. He didn't know what they wanted. Revenge seemed likely.

He'd helped them, Lillie and Gladion. He'd let them get away with Hau. He'd stopped Nebby from opening the door to the other world. She had caught him as he tried to run and held him back as the others made it to safety.

His head flared up with pain again. It hurt to think, to recall anything. That was probably intentional. The Foundation would've killed him by now if they didn't want him for something. He had been tearing a path through the Alola region, beating down the trials in a record time. They wanted him for some nefarious purpose alright.

The most he could hope to do was sleep, but the trapdoor leaked badly, and there was a tropical storm of momentous proportions assaulting the Paradise. His chest was soaked, and the bottom of the pit was an inch deep in rainwater. It was hell on earth, his bones aching with contortion, his backside and legs sopping wet, partially submerged.

Sun prayed, to the island guardians who he hoped were watching over him, to Arceus, to anything and everything that may be listening. And then a light shone down into the pit as the doors were thrown open.

Sun thought he was saved.

He was wrong.

"Oh, my-" came the now all too familiar voice. "Look at you," she cooed. "Look at you."

She was towering over him, a silhouette in the dark, a foreboding monolith of a woman. Lillie's mother, Lusamine. He felt someone - no, two - three - others reach down into the pit, clamp down on his shoulders and lift him up.

They tossed him down onto his side, and it felt like his shoulder broke as he hit the deck of the Paradise. He couldn't scream - he didn't have the breath in his lungs nor the strength in his soul. He just growled his agony through gritted teeth.

Something sharp dug into his back, grinding against his spine painfully. "I've missed this," Lusamine's voice spoke through the searing, jagged sensation. "A shame it won't last."

"What- what do you want with me?" Sun choked into the white platform. There was a thin film of water on the deck of the Paradise which just made the experience of lying flat on his front, face down, all the more uncomfortable.

As the sharp object moved onto his neck and something else pushed down on his face, he realised it was Lusamine's heel that had traced up his vertebrae and onto the back of his throat. He was already drenched by the storm. "I don't want anything with you. I want what you'll be. What I'll make you. What I have made you."

Sun couldn't make head nor tail of what she had said, and tried to resist her pushing down against him to no avail. "Please, let me go," he begged. "I - I want to-"

"Soon, my dear, you'll want nothing more than to be right here with me. Pick him up, would you?" Her foot's pressure was relieved from him, and he felt that pressure replaced by the iron grip of some thugs, maybe Team Skull, maybe the Foundation.

Struggling feebly earned him a hook that made his head snap to the left and completely disoriented him for a good minute. There was too much pain to think of anything at all. Warm rain fell on his skin, soothing somewhat. He clung to that sensation as he was dragged toward the mansion at the back of the Paradise.

Lusamine was speaking. "...and the two who I took the time to..." Sun didn't want to hear. Didn't care to, didn't think to, didn't need to. "...so I decided, take away what they..."

Time passed in a gradient. Black to white to black. To yellow. To either white or black it didn't matter. Sun's consciousness faded.

"Sun," he heard his mother's voice. "Sun? Wake up, my dear! Today's the day! We're moving at last! We're going to Alola! It's going to be a new start, a new chapter in our lives, we're getting away from here, from all of those - Sun, we're going to Alola! Where you'll shine all the time, in the sky and for me, Sun!

Sun? Sun, can you hear me?"

"Mom..." Sun murmured.

A sharp exhale of amusement was his response. "I didn't think it'd work so fast."

That was not the voice. Sun kept his eyes closed even as his skin crawled and the top of his spine grew cold with fear. He had a chance, maybe, if he ran. He had to plan it carefully, wait, then bolt for it.

He wasn't in the pit. There was soft lighting cast down on him, not the harsh fluorescent beams of the laboratories, nor the pitch darkness of the tiny box that had been his prison. Daring to open his eyes the tiniest amount, the smallest, unperceivable slit, he saw the clinical white of the room. He was in a bed. A real bed, with sheets. It was comfy. It was terrifying.

Why were they suddenly making him their guest? Or was this just some ploy to make him drop his guard? Breathing steadily, continuing to feign sleep, he waited for a moment to run for it. He resisted gasping as he felt cool fingers on his skin.

"Oh Sun, they've made you so beautiful..." Lusamine's voice whispered to him, much closer than he could have expected. Sun couldn't resist anymore. He breathed in a little too fast, pushed himself up and screamed.

He could have made it away, maybe. If he wasn't strapped to the bed around his waist, wrists and ankles. He was still an experiment. The realisation made his scream even more desperate, maddening. He screamed and screamed until it felt like his voice box was ripped asunder from the effort. He didn't look anywhere but straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge Lusamine. He struggled and struggled and struggled.

Nothing happened.

"Sun, please behave. Our hospitality is surely not terrible enough to justify that screaming fit, is it?"

"You- you've been torturing me- for-" he stopped, starting to hyperventilate.

"Sun, Sun, Sun," Lusamine repeated, in a high-pitched, fussing tone. "It was all worth it. You'll see. You're perfect now." She leaned over where he lay and put her hand on his cheek. "Oh, Sun." The words were dripping with twisted admiration.

Sun couldn't scream again. It'd hurt too much. He leaned forward as far as the straps would allow him to, and quietly sobbed to himself, Lusamine still fondly stroking his face as if his skin was some sort of expensive, rare velvet. "Sun, please," she mumbled, and he could barely hear her.

"Let me go," he whimpered. "Let me go home. I don't want to be your experiment. I want to go home."

"Too late," Lusamine crooned. "It's too late. You're mine now. It's too late for you to go back home, too late for you to 'not want' to be my experiment. And..." Her fingers went over his hand, stroking it once as if to reassure him before returning to his face. His skin crawled. "You're not an experiment, Sun. You're not like those rejects, you're not like the waste our less cognitive members churn out. I've made sure, personally, that you came out quite alright."

Sun finally clicked. That meant he was already at least halfway there. He had to be. She was speaking as if he was already 'complete', as if he was the finished product of whatever she was doing to him. As he realised this, Lusamine's hands left his bed, away from his face, his skin. She strolled casually behind him, where he couldn't so much as guess at what she could be doing. He heard something move, something shift, felt a shadow fall over him.

Her hands extended by his sides, slowly, sickeningly. She held a mirror up in her slender fingers and Sun's heart dropped. His blood froze. He wasn't him anymore. He was one of them.

How she had done it, he didn't know. But she had turned his eyes a poisonous green, with a slight unnatural yellow twinge - just like hers. His skin, one midtone, once dark compared to any member of her family, was bleached white, just as light as hers. His hair was the blonde of the family instead of black as it was when he was wholly himself.
He had been transformed completely, mutated into her perfect son, wether he wanted to be or not. He couldn't speak, only take short, hitching breaths on sharp air. He wanted to scream again but his throat was too tight. Lusamine put the mirror away behind the bed and crossed over to his side.

"Well, Sun? What do you think?" Her expression was proud, all smiles. She wanted him to be ecstatic, pleased with his new body, and he was afraid of what might happen if he expressed his disgust, his fear. Sun was still in shock even as she leaned over in front of him and took him by the shoulders gently. Her hair fell over his bed in a golden curtain. "Sun?" Sun closed his gaping mouth, taking a few deep breaths, thinking about his now green eyes. He met Lusamine's eyes and saw they were still perversely kind, caring.

He made sure that he couldn't think about Lillie and Gladion, Hau, his mom, his past - stuffed the memories down, down, away, and spoke.

"Mother..."

Lusamine's smile was hideous to behold, base, insidious, and radiating the smug aura of a woman who finally had what she wanted. "No. You're not done. Not yet, my darling Sun. But soon, soon you'll be all mine."

Sun leaned toward her hand as it caressed his face rather than away from it. A small part of himself remained, that told him, you have to do this to be safe - it's okay to pretend. He lowered his head in shame when Lusamine took her hand away.

"Just a little more to go now, Sun. It'll hurt, it'll definitely hurt, but you're past the hard part."

"What- what's left?"

Lusamine looked down on him with the tiniest of smirks and replied. "It's a secret."