A small stream of water gently flowed in the darkness of the cavernous Mount Moon. Its tranquil trickling was soon joined by another sound. A pair of footsteps. Light beamed through one of the numerous passages, illuminating the numerous stalagmites, which had taken hundreds of years to form. The shadows bounced about the spacious cavern, as their perpetual dance of emergence and retreat became apparent to the two figures that had entered the once peaceful grotto.
There was a loud "thud!" and a "splash!" as a thick, black boot stomped into the stream of water. This interruption of tranquility was further breached by a man's brisk tone as he spoke to the one at his side, whom had not stepped into the stream just yet. "He isn't responding to our transmissions, Laurie," the battle worn man said gruffly to his female accomplice. The woman at his side stood tall, her height nearly even with his. Her hair gracefully fell across her shoulders, like a stream of bright yellow gold. She wore thick charcoal eyeliner and her lipstick was a deep wine-red. In her gloved hands, she held a small pistol and a single Pokéball.
"Hmm? Brady?" she asked. Coated in powder and makeup, she was a dolled-up young woman, though certainly attractive on her own. She wore a snugly fitting uniform, its ebony fabric adhering to her lean and eye-catching body. Her long, puffy blonde hair fluffed up and about with even the slightest pitches and tilts of her pretty face.
He shook his head. "Yeah. It's a no-go." His uniform, an obsidian-colored getup with intimidatingly sharp shoulder pads, had a large emblem below the right shoulder. In the background of the lavish design was an embroidered, burgundy "R". Team Rocket. To him, what it stood for was more than a crime syndicate's name, it was an idea. He rubbed his jet-black hair under his equally dark hat, resembling a cloth military helm. Sweat begun forming on his palms as his small handheld radio transmitter continued to yield nothing but static from his side holster.
"Brzz…brzz…"
"*Sigh* No dice…" he said grimly. The man's angular nose drew in the cool air of the grotto. He briefly held his breath before expelling a visible gust of air from his mouth. "Cough!" He placed his hand over the light he was holding, darkening the room. The woman next to him shivered.
"You think we'll find what we're looking for…after that…?" she asked him clasping her hands together. She rubbed them, trying to keep warm; the depths of this cave were damp and chilly. He remained quiet, so she asked again, "Brad, what's happening to us?"
"The hell if I know! There's no way to tell. We're likely to be reassigned. Again…" Brad was uncertain of so many things. He wanted to leave this cave obviously, but he also didn't want to be perceived by his commander as a coward. After the things he saw in its unspeakable depths, there was no telling what the next move was. "Dammit!" He despised it when he was in the dark. Somehow, he was beneath knowing all the variables. Ranks in the Rocket organization still mattered, even if the criminal organization was being systematically altered from within. Softly rubbing his fist in his hand, he stared at one of the larger rock stalagmites. The static persisted. "Damn…" he grumbled.
"I'm tired of this!" she said pouting. "We haven't done anything but look around for stupid rocks. What's the point?! Why can't we be going after loot or something? Or how about Pokemon? You know, things that aren't lethal!"
The man could sense her frustration. It was all too easy to read her. She needed to vent her pent up aggression. He smiled slowly. "Pokemon…can be lethal too, Laurie." His hardened expression showed slight strain as the mid twenty-year old grinned. His left check had a slight indentation from a scar he had gotten a few years ago. Though it was razor thin, it still stung when he smirked. He hated the feeling but had grown accustomed to it. Imperfections like these were tolerated so long as he had Laurie by his side. Having her gave him the strength to do the things that he did. "Danger or not, we're here to do this, Laurie," he said coldly pointing at the excavation tools. "Try to understand, don't get all emotional…We have an assignment that needs to be fulfilled."
"An assignment?! But what about me, Brad?" she asked. "Don't you care about how I feel?"
"I want to be with you when I do anything. You know that to be true, don't you? Don't you, Laurie?"
"Sigh…" Laurie buried her distress in a tight, faux smile. "Brad, let's just run off together. You've gotten your pay from the last mission we went on! We can go off and live our lives with one another! We don't have to put up with the…the…*gasp* T—those things down there!" she said, her shrill voice echoing in the cave's natural chamber. She knew they were safe for now, but who could tell for how long. Brad never away before, never retreated. It was all so unbelievable, it felt like she was in a dream.
His stern voice snapped her out of her thoughts, "You'd consider leaving everything we're part of? Everything that brought us together?"
"It could be just us…"
"What about our squad? The Rockets? Laurie, what about me?"
"Brad!" she shouted. "I didn't meant that!"
"Why are you overreacting?" he asked.
"I—I'm not overreacting!" she said unconvincingly, Brad's condemnation had actually exasperated the melodramatic responses from his partner. "You don't get it! You can't! You're too wrapped up in this world of organized crime!"
Reaching out and grabbing her skinny wrist, Brad ordered, "You need to calm down! Don't cause a ruckus!"
"No!" she said tugging away. "Just stop already! Don't threaten me! I'm not overreacting!"
"You are. Humph! However—" he tilted his neck in deep thought "—I don't know why you're overreacting. Are you scared? Is that what all this is about?"
Laurie covered her rose-painted lips with a delicate hand. "N—no! I'm not!" she lied.
Brad advanced on her. "That's it, isn't it? You see a few scary things and suddenly you're ready to abort, jump ship, and forget about the duties we have? You're gonna let that stuff beat you!?"
"NO!" she protested, but Brad had already made his conclusions. "I'm trying to—"
"Quiet! You'd drop it all on a goddamn dime wouldn't you?! *Huff!* And you'd try and get me to go along too. You're manipulative as f—"
"–Wait! I don't want this! Please! Listen!" She looked incredibly distraught; her voice cracked as she wailed, "I want you and me! We can steal, we can make a living, just on our own terms for once. We can do whatever we want together, you and me."
"Stealing…? 'On our own terms'…? That would be more meaningful for you?" he asked in wonder. Obviously the thought had crossed Brad's mind before, but it never had manifested in such a charged plight of his partner. "For us…?"
Laurie snapped, "It would be a hell of a lot more meaningful than whatever was down at the base of the cave…it was twisted! Something's terribly wrong Brad, and I know it! *Gasp!* I just know it!" Her body quivered not from the cold, but from fear. "Team Rocket doesn't want us to live, that's why they sent us down into The Crypt!"
"Quiet!" He knew she was wrong. Team Rocket hadn't had a blunder since the incident two years back at the Pokemon Sanctum. In response, they'd become a very cautious organization.
The young woman shivered from the cold; however, it was not the damp air of the cave that chilled her bones. It was a feeling from within. "I…I don't want to stay here…please. It's making me feel all wrong."
"You really were affected by it, weren't you?" Brad asked as his smile faded. "This isn't you. What is it, Laurie? Is it paranoia?"
"N—No! I—I mean, you weren't frightened?!"
Brad, twisting his lower lip, softly mouthed the word "No." He'd gone into survival mode. What else was there to do? He thought best when he was on his feet, when things were on the line.
"W—what's happened to you!? You've gone cold…What's *sniff* happened? Didn't it frighten you when they came out of nowhere and—" she began to sob. "And then to Logan…"
"Nothing. Nothing's changed! The circumstances may have temporarily…shifted…but nothing else is going to happen so long as I'm in charge of this battalion. We're still under contract. It's because we're the best that we have this job in the first place," he said, his teeth shining like icicles. "It's a blessing we don't have to work for those scientist creeps in Branch Zero. Can you imagine what kinds of torment we'd have to put up with at a place like Evercrest, Laurie?"
She shuddered hearing that name, her spine tingled all the way down. That place was a black hole: Rockets assigned to the Cipher lab were rarely ever heard from again. "I don't think we'd be suitable candidates—" Laurie answered haphazardly.
"Exactly," Brad quickly said, cutting her off. "And why is that? Because we're not your average grunts! This mission might not be a walk through Goldenrod Park, but at the very least we have leniency with our current assignment. We only have to answer to one, not the whole panel. The boss cares about our wellbeing, unlike Cipher's panel! Hell, I'm sure our odds of survival double when you take stuffy folks like them out of our operations. Too many chiefs and not enough indians. Either way, I prefer to go at it alone…" Brad didn't realize his statement was abrasive and consequently offensive.
"Alone?! I hate what's become of you!" she yelled, flailing her arms and kicking a mound of dirt causing the dust to plume upwards. "You have no feelings! Don't you care?"
"…Laurie…wait!"
"No!" she shouted, causing him to back off in shock. He considered his accomplice's temper. He knew the origin of it. They had been sent on a multitude of missions to secure a rare earth material called "Mercurium". For the past few trips, they were unsuccessful and there hadn't been conflict until recently. This was troublesome for his small squad and Laurie in particular. She was certainly rattled by the things discovered in the deep, dark depths of this seemingly innocent mountain. When confronted with the strange creatures, her vicious tendency could not even help her. Usually it would. Brad liked to think of her as not only his significant other, but also an impetuous version of himself. While he was composed, she loved to embellish in her voracious side. Was this a derivative of her affection for him? Either way, she knew that every mission came with its own set of risks. Be it lawful bullets or lawful Pokemon, their missions always carried danger. Still, she was really shaken up. Almost inexplicably so.
"You know what, fine! I'll tell you what, we'll radio H.Q. right now and give a frickin' worthless, half-assed report!" he barked. Swearing and twitching, he took out a tiny black communicator, not much larger than his palm, from the strap above his vest's right pocket. Aggressively, he flicked the small switch on the side causing the round speaker to utter an eerie static.
"Zzz…"
"Wait…" Laurie was clearly upset, she clutched at his muscular forearm saying, "I—I just want to go home."
"Go home?" His eyes narrowed and he turned his head to stare at her before responding in a way she'd understand by snapping back, "Yeah, well do you think I'm having a freaking picnic down here?!"
"I…I'm sorry I just got…"
"…Got what?!" He grabbed her arm with his free hand. "Huh?!"
"B—Brad!" She continued to stammer, unsure of what exactly to say to her significant other. She had never felt this way before. His grip tightened. She was scared of where they were, but more afraid of what he'd become. "I…I…"
"What?!" For emphasis, he abusively shook her a few times. Then he released her and used his hand to violently hit the communicator a few times. Still nothing. "What the hell did you get? Emotional? Cause you saw someone die?!"
"Y—yes," she said with tears in her eyes. She was tired of the abuse. "I felt so afraid, I couldn't act. I don't want to feel like that again."
"And you call yourself a thief! Laurie, Team Rocket isn't a place for petty Meowth-burglars!"
"I know Brad! I know! But I got scared. I got so scared!"
There was a brief pause. Then he recited words he had heard during the advent of his life of crime: "To see past fear, you need to put death under your control, you need to gain power over it, you need to be able to kill without remorse if you wish to face death unafraid." He released her with a jolt.
Her expression revealed that the 'advice' Brad receive years ago had been influential, maybe even persuasive. Why not? He followed it, and now he could look death square in the face unafraid.
"…And if you want to be in charge of our personal affairs, that's fine, but I'm running the show down here. I'm not going to get anyone…I mean, us killed. Remember that." Grunting, he turned his eyes to the communicator. He paused for a few seconds before looking back at Laurie. She bit her lip nervously. He had already broken that first promise, and her faith in Brad —though he was competent— had since waivered.
"Brad, what do you think we need to…" Laurie began, but then stopped as she heard a sound in the distance. It sounded like a rock rolling on one of the paths leading down to these unfathomable depths in the mysterious "Lunar Mountain".
"…!"
"Is someone there?"
"Are we being followed? I thought we lost 'em back in The Crypt!"
"No, it can't be! Those are human noises!"
Amid their panicked whispering, the pair looked at each other skeptically; they were able to see each other's facial features as a bright light came in from a nearby corridor. Brad quickly switched off his light. He raised his thick brow and put a finger to his lips, hushing Laurie. "Shh! Keep calm, and listen to what I say. No one's supposed to be down here, I thought we set up a com rely on the way in…how'd anyone slip by?"
The two of them waited in the darkness, as the shallow stream beneath them resumed its peaceful flow. Brad saw his partner's crystal eyes illuminate despite the darkness of the cave. It was as if something lived within those azure eyes, shining with cruel brilliance, waiting to be released.
As the light began to approach them, wrapping around the walls in unnerving patterns, Brad instinctively reached for his weapon of choice, wrapping his fingers around the handle jutting out from his waist's holster. With a deft hand, he had muted the static coming from his communicator, but if they were exposed by this light there was only one option. Force. And that meant the risk of casualties at worst. This mission was of highest priority, and there could be no witnesses; he could not risk word getting out to the Pokemon League concerning Team Rocket's activities here. The rest of his squad was still in the camp closer to the lower levels of the cave system. While the main cavern of Mount Moon was a straightforward mountain pass, there were hidden areas and depths blocked off by landslides leading to a range of mysterious levels. The main path going through the mountain was infrequently taken by trainers looking to travel from Pewter to Cerulean or vice versa, and even then, it did not gain much traffic. There was this recent craze for League Badge collecting. Brad never understood it. He was a mercenary not an adventurer. Perhaps his father would have wanted him to go adventuring with Pokemon; the old man always liked Pokemon after all. Suddenly frustrated, Brad dismissed the wandering thoughts of his father's Pokemon.
Then the figures appeared, trailed by their long shadows. A small trainer, not much older than twenty and his Pokemon entered the very room where the two rouges remained motionless. The young man's Pokemon floated in mid-air and gave off a radiant light originating from its brightly lit eye.
"Ah-ha! There's our problem," Laurie said, pointing towards the young trainer's Magnemite. Magnemite could interfere with all kinds of electrical radio waves after all.
The trainer, realizing he wasn't alone, spun to face the source of the voice.
"…Dammit!" Brad instinctively darted forward towards the trainer, concealed by rapidly dancing shadows cast by spinning of lights within the catacomb.
"Who's—?" By the time this trainer had raised an arm to demand questions, Brad's leg connected with the trainer's chest knocking him backwards into a rocky wall. The resulting impact caused the trainer to gasp in pain. Staggered, he hunched over and clutched the wet rocks. "Oof! You rotten crook, you're with the mob!"
As the trainer got up, Brad demanded, "Leave!"
"Ugh…" The impact had disoriented him, but not enough for him to fire off a few obscenities Team Rocket's way. "You worthless scoundrels! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I told you to leave; you'd do well to listen to orders," Brad shrugged, "who knows, it could wind up saving your life."
"Right now, before we have to hurt you for real, you little worm!" Laurie chimed in; the thought of taking up Brad's advice to confront her fears was slowly seeping into her head, like the insistent drips of stalagmites all around. She wondered if fear could really be overcome. Could she really be in control?
"Yeah sure! I'm not listening to you thieves!" the trainer retorted with a crooked expression. "You're with Team Rocket!"
"And what if we are?" Brad asked. "Does that make you any safer from us, punk? Does that make pretending to be a hero seem like a smart option?"
"To hell with you!"
"What are you going to do about it?" Laurie taunted. "You look too hurt to do much against the both of us."
"I'm going to—" he collapsed and begun to cough heavily. "*cough* *wheeze* you're done…you're so done…"
"—Wrong answer!" she scolded, taking the opportunity to advance.
Brad raised a hand into the air. "Let him finish, Laurie; let's see if the vermin's reasonable enough to do what he's told."
"You guys, you think you're so tough as a group. *Cough! Hack!* No. You're not! You're bullies. You wouldn't be able to take me on alone! You're a waste…!" Laurie flinched, taking a second to glance at her weapons, a pistol and a Pokéball. Brad raised an arm to stop her from resorting to either of them yet. Seeing this, the trainer went on. "…You're nothing. You're not even human! You're nothing more than a bunch of mindless lackeys blindly taking orders from your masters without a damn thought to call your own! You're worse than Pokemon!" he shouted, giving Brad an offensive hand gesture. "Who's really the one in charge of your lot, motherf—?!" Brad spun on his back foot and kicked the weakened man again with the heel of his combat boot, this time square in the gut. "Oof!" the trainer belted as spit flew out of his mouth.
"Got something you wanna say to me, punk?"
"Help! Magnemite!" he cried out. In defense, the levitating Pokemon at his side began to glow yellow before releasing a quick surge of electricity upon the male rocket.
The fury of sparks connected. Brad shuddered violently as waves of electrical energy jolted throughout his body. He couldn't even shout in pain, his jaw had been snap-frozen shut by electricity. He had to endure it, shaking as involuntary muscles fired off their natural responses.
"NO!" Laurie screamed, releasing her Pokemon. "Growlithe go!"
"Ark! Ark!" The Growlithe she released barked vigorously at her side, adding to the unfolding chaos. But Laurie couldn't bring herself to fire her pistol. Not with Brad in front of her. Even if he was being attacked. She prayed that he'd withstand it, Magnemite weren't supposed to be lethal unless in groups greater than two.
There was a small pause, and the magnetic Pokemon stopped as Brad leaned forward wearing an expression of disgust on his face. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. "Y—You're a weak trainer. Your Pokemon's a flawless reflection of your inadequacy. P—pitiful," Brad stammered, clutching his heart. "You want to fight me? Fine. I'll fight you, I won't even use Pokemon to deal with you! You're garbage, you insect!"
"Brad don't!" Laure screamed.
"Magnemite, use Thundershock!" exclaimed the trainer. "Kill him!" Complying with orders, the Magnemite began to rapidly spin to produce another electric based attack. But, to its trainer's surprise, the target ran his hand down to his belt holster, grasping a thin handle ruggedly strapped with tape like a knife's grip. The man's coat bellowed outwards, revealing the weapon. Along its wide blade were thin copper wires, running along the metal's face much like a circulatory system, spreading out into numerous capillaries that buried their ends into the sharp edges. The thickest of wires were connected to several silver nickel compartments: battery boxes mounted onto the metal, each capable of humming countless volts into the cold, black steel's ridged edges.
In a single, heart-stopping moment, he drew the weapon, and swiftly clicked the "On" switch located on the handle. "Click! Zzrrr…!" The device didn't have time to purr its threatening warning, for Brad wasted no time swinging it up through the air; the vicious, electrified machete made a distinct whirring noise as it sliced through the cave's damp air. "Woosh! Shing!"
The blackened metal, charged with electricity, smashed into the levitating Magnemite, followed by a huge "Bang!" and a brilliant burst of sparks as the electrical charge was set loose. Out of the smoke and dust, the Pokemon fell to the earth, its external metal horribly dented, as it bounced on the ground, falling further apart. It hit the wall beside its trainer and fell to the earth; its tiny eye flashed bright a few times as it lay stilled in the dirt. The twin magnets on either side of its body slowly ceased to spin. The female rocket's Pokemon sprung over to the fallen Pokemon. Its fangs glistened white as they began to glow with fiery energy. "Growlithe, Fire Fang attack!" she yelped in earnest.
"NO!" The trainer yelled. "No, damn you! Damn you!" Obscenities flowed from his agonized expression like swift water.
Brad frowned at him. "I told you to run, kid. You're nothing. Don't stand up for anything you can't defend. You don't belong here, and neither do your Pokemon. Learn your lesson yet?"
"I'm gonna end you, you filthy animal! Pleh!" he spat. Pointing at Laurie first and then at Brad, he barked, "You and you! And anyone else in Team Rocket! You're all done! You'll have the Pokemon League halfway up your ass before you know it!"
Agitated, Brad pawed at his chin; for the trainer would not go quietly. "…Then looks like this will be your grave." The dull humming of energy filled the cave with faint whirling vibrations. He looked down at his weapon. The Lambda glowed a faint orange from the recent transference. He could use the device's sharpened blade, but why waste a perfect opportunity to teach Laurie how to overcome the fear which had seemingly possessed her? Brad nodded, "Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, I'm all out of power. The Lambda is a delicate device. Ha…but not as delicate as your Pokemon."
"Or you!" Laurie chimed in.
"No…*Sniff* No! This isn't happening! This can't be happening!" Now in tears of bottomless rage, the trainer pulled his body from the sharp rock Brad had kicked him into, feeling the abrasions and punctures in his back. Stumbling, he wobbled towards the man slowly. "You'll never take me alive!"
"Heh—Wasn't planning on it," Brad said with a smirk. "The ship of mercy set sail long ago. You're nothing but a dead man. But first—" he signaled to Laurie. "Give the order, Laurie."
For a split second, Laurie appeared to be taken aback, but the young woman quickly reoriented herself. "Finish his Pokemon!" Her hair whipped back as she zealously ordered yet another Fire Fang attack. Her hound ripped the pieces of the Pokemon further apart, thoroughly enjoying it with each crunching snap and disjointing tear.
"…!" he didn't have words. However, the trainer's mute reaction was of great delight to the sadistic blonde haired agent. Why? Because this young man was where she usually was. He was powerless, defenseless, he oozed perceivable fear. Her silvery eyes glowed, the internal, chaotic bloodlust gaining intensity with each passing second. She wanted to be in charge for once. She had to be! Slowly, she walked in a straight line, each foot stepping directly in front of the other.
"No…oh no…!" the unnamed trainer stumbled; he noticed blood was dripping from the base of his shirt. Shifting his gaze from the two Team Rocket members to his stomach and then back to them again, he saw the male turn around, taking the bright light with him. "P-P-Please…*cough* no, you can't…!" the trainer responded, still completely clueless. Perhaps he was denying the possibility of death. Wild thoughts crossed his mind, training Pokemon, adventuring through caves; this was only a game, wasn't it? All he wanted right now was to go home. Sadly, the simplistic joys of life were but a distant fantasy as he confronted death in the form of a fiery hound. Pokemon could go just as bad as the humans who trained them, making Team Rocket one of the few organizations capable of unleashing terror upon their victims; in truth, they were all Pokemon trainers save for a select few.
"Growlithe, sick the trainer! Take his life away!" Laughing, Laurie ordered her Growlithe to finish the job. "Bite attack!"
"Rrrgggh!" the Pokemon viciously growled. It was a large member of its species, well over three feet, having attained a high combat proficiency without evolving. Her Pokemon had also not tasted meat for a long while, just a bite of the trainer would taste a fair deal better than the ferrous components of Magnemite. "ARK! ARK!" it barked, snarling and glaring in an intimidating leer before the climatic pounce.
The trainer had only a moment to attempt shielding his face with his arms. "No! AHH! NOOOO!"
"Crunch!"
Laurie smiled, her silvery eyes beaming. Why? Was it out of excitement? No, initially it was rousing to be in charge for once, but, like a tidal wave, passion had seized control of her actions. Her smile opened to reveal her pearly teeth. Brad was right. She looked down upon her victim. She was in control. For once, she wasn't being ordered about by Brad, or any other overwhelming dominance in life. Her power was demonstrated and unquestioned. This feeling inside of her was simply purpose itself. The feelings fed into themselves over and over. She was master over life and death. It took only a word and the obedience of her Pokemon. In rapt, she recalled her Growlithe; coming slowly to terms with she had just done, realizing the fate of others rested upon her whims. Kicking the still body, she turned and walked back towards her companion and field commander. "I—" she wanted to say "did it" but she had run out of breath.
"Huff…huff…" Hearing her approach, the other Rocket spoke, his tone still uneven from being slightly zapped by Thundershock, "There, we've got a clear patch now Laurie. You were right about Magnemite interrupting our signal." She forced a tight smile, her hands still violently trembling. "Good girl." Between baited breaths, he began his transmission through the small microphone: "H.Q., this is Agent Kelvin we have progressed into the deep section of the mountain and are broadcasting our signal now. We found deposits of the heated material you spoke about. It's strange…ever changing and amorphous as the Cipher report predicted. I don't think we were the first ones down here either. At least, for a while."
Pausing, the unshaven young man looked down at his communicator, as if it would exhibit some sort of human quality or response. No response. His report continued, even more solemnly than before. He knew the man on the other side was listening, waiting like an Ekans in the grass.
"There were…machines down there. Extraction machines of some sort, predating our tech."
"So you're a historian now, Braddock?"
Brad ignored the snide remark and responded without a hint of animosity, "Those things, those hulking pistons built into the rock face, were not built by us or anyone I know of."
"Do they work?"
"Work? No. Didn't get that far."
"Explain the machines' construction to me."
"They're cryptic in nature, we couldn't investigate much into their inner workings; they look like large-scale versions of those old steam engines you see in museums. Their presence proves worrisome structurally speaking, but there's something else…"
"…Go on."
"Did you know this place was a tomb? There were bodies…"
The other side dryly responded, "I wouldn't have sent you Kelvin if I needed someone incompetent to get this job done." Brad fought the praise he was being given with a stern expression. Laurie quietly giggled into her pale palms. "As for the ancient machinery, I would like a report detailing the nature of such technology. Perhaps we can synthesize a prototype based off of their designs…much like the firearms some of us choose to use."
Brad paused; his commander was addressing him specifically. "Sir, I don't believe I will ever use one of those again. You need to respect my decision." Brad had used a Gauntlet M-class revolver at one point. He was never very good at shooting with it. Accuracy was only a meager twenty-nine percent on targets under thirty paces away. Normally most Team Rocket agents would carry the weapon in its 'M' class. It was a six barreled revolver, utilizing flint lock technology to prime explosive powder in the chamber. The original design was crude to put it mildly, but at least it worked without requiring Pokemon—a huge step forward for the criminal syndicate that would often abuse Pokemon through illicit trafficking. Brad's Gauntlet however, misfired during one of his earlier missions. The result scarred his face permanently as the explosive debris burned his visage. Even if they ever became commonplace, he didn't care if other people used firearms. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He had his weapons of choice, first and foremost being the 'Lambda Xtella', a prototype weapon made by Silph. It was originally designed for law enforcement agents to carry and use to stun escapees. Though the design was for it to not be lethal, in practice electrocution proved to be a very fickle method of incapacitation. Needless to say, it was banned for military use only. However, Brad had his connections, after a few modifications such as an increase to the channeled voltage and bayonet edges made it into the brutally effective lightning truncheon he now carried with him on all his assignments. In addition, Brad had some skill in martial arts. He also had his Pokemon. And he had Laurie at his side wherever he went. "So much for not using a Gauntlet," he silently thought to himself.
"I'll respect it so long as your decision gets us results, Kelvin." The voice held a dull anger at the tail end of the sentence.
"Permission to speak freely?" asked the male rocket as he combed some loose hair from the ordeal back underneath his hat.
"Granted," said the voice impersonally and sarcastically.
"Is this line tapped?" Brad asked.
"No. At least not for now… Tell me what's on your mind. Quickly, Braddock."
"I honor no other organization higher than the Rockets. Team Rocket's given me more opportunities than anyone else. I must confess that there is little solace in the knowledge that my personal decisions are not taken into account. I've respected this group, this idea of Team Rocket—'The Rockets' without question."
"'The Rockets'," repeated the voice, mulling over the last time someone had referred to Team Rocket as that. Not that 'The Rockets' was discourteous, quite contrarily, it was an archaic title of prestige.
Laurie's figure caught his eye. "I take my orders very seriously," he said in a tone grave enough to bring envy to the dead. "Sir."
"Sigh…You aren't expendable, Kelvin. You're valuable to our organization, Team Rocket. Take care to remember that your own timely joining happened at the most opportune moment for us. I don't say this often, but it was meant to be. We lost a lot of good men two years back. Especially him," the communicator hauntingly said. Brad knew exactly what the commander was talking about. Two years ago, Team Rocket lost one of their best operatives during the Pokemon Sanctum mission. Little was known about the circumstances. At first, some believed he had gone rogue. Now the general opinion was that this agent was overtaken by what was discovered within the Sanctum's depths. "You're a shining example of Team Rocket's indomitable spirit."
Laurie padded Brad's arm, as his superior praised him once again. When Brad joined Team Rocket, he met Lauren Tiffany almost right away. He always teased her about having two first names; in fact, that's where the nickname 'Laurie' came from. In either event, they were under the same commander and mentor during their early years in the Rocket Organization. Laurie's fascination for Brad was evident since she first laid eyes on him. She was trying to pay off some of her expenses at the time, and was notoriously passionate in all ways imaginable. A little while after the blunder made in Saffron City, Brad was shaken and considering quitting the crime syndicate because things were changing a little too fast for him. He didn't like shifting powers above him. It made him uneasy. But Laurie urged him to stay, and the two of them formed a strong relationship that went beyond the physical connections they already shared. Together, they were as malicious as they were efficient. Now they were on some of the most dangerous missions imaginable. Nearly all the recruits who had joined their crew were either dead or incarcerated indefinitely. Being part of Team Rocket wasn't all it was cracked up to be unless you went up in the ranks; almost in a 'survival of the fittest' type of way. It was a risky career, but one where the cream always rose to the top.
"After the Sanctum, all of our resources were dumped right into Cipher's hands. 'Rocket Don' insisted that we could always rebuild. But we could not save one of our most trusted operatives and his henchmen. Rallsen…*sigh*…Tragic. It seems like it was yesterday. You remind me of him in so many ways, Braddock."
"I…I do?" Brad didn't know what to make out of this statement. It felt off to hear that considering two years ago Team Rocket was in their prime, and Rallsen was the team's champion, their pride and joy, the bread and butter of any assignment. However, he was long gone now, and his shoes would be difficult, if not impossible, to fill. Especially with Cipher bearing down on their operations like a watchful parent.
"You understand what it means to be a member of Team Rocket, through and through. And yet you're so young." Laurie gave Brad an affectionate nudge. "Hmm…come to think of it, one of the field commanders chosen two years ago was around your age, and when he went rogue, I realized my mistake. He had other objectives. Perhaps Cipher brainwashed him. But the difference is this: I trust you. Your loyalties are here with the team. And because of that, we'll remain loyal to you in any way you need us to; that's how this works. We will persevere through the current state of affairs and regain our prior glory. It's good to have you as a field commander, Braddock Harrison."
"Right…" Hearing the commander call him by full name made Brad feel mildly uncomfortable, nervously he took a deep breath and brushed some dirt off his uniform, "Two of our agents arriving from Pewter mentioned an anomaly. According to them, there was an incident involving grossly powerful and uncontrollable Pokemon in the city's gym. Witnesses claim the building itself was damaged by a supposedly lethal battle. Is there need for concern?"
Silence, and then a click on the other side—almost like a gun being cocked. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if the noise was real, because Team Rocket were major contributors to the black market for firearms. "Let me deal with the circus that is Pokemon League affairs, Brad. I'm in a better position to do that. You just do what is necessary to extract the rare material from the mountain. They want it to be the exact quantities that your mission report requested. Do not fail us in this assignment. I want you to report back to me with any more news. I will be sending Agents Engelhart and Maxwell on ahead to recruit, keep communication lines with them open."
"And the anomaly?" Brad's face sharpened, he did not like hearing about mysterious events occurring in Pewter. An outpost stationed at the mouth of the cave had radioed in the recent event a few days ago. Days seemed like weeks down in the belly of the earth. Time was hardly a constant.
"I'm sure you and your agents can handle the mission without interference from an anomaly like the one you're talking about."
"But sir!" Brad hated when his boss would skirt around his questions. Didn't he understand the value of transparency? If his boss wanted results, Brad had to be given details. "Don't you have any more information? We're in the dark."
"We're still attempting to ascertain information pertaining to the incident in Pewter. If there's a need to alert you, I will do so personally via this communication patch."
"So…nothing's known yet?" asked Brad.
"No. Nothing is known…yet." The voice seemed distracted, preoccupied, as if someone else had just entered or left the room. Quickly, the man said, "Braddock, concerning the Pewter City incident, something I'm seeing isn't right. Those levels are sky high…and aren't even buried below the surface."
"Commander?" Brad asked, trying desperately to piece together some of the fragmented hints.
"For now, extract the rare earth components. If there's any more of this 'mercurial' component, you are to directly report to me. No excuses. If you should encounter an elevated reading be wary. You have the proper equipment to handle opposition. Should you be lacking, use your Pokemon and your—"
"—Commander, the things we found down there amid the corpses…they're…" Brad couldn't word it. Far too much had happened in a small amount of time, and he wasn't even able to get a clear view of it as the squad retreated.
"What are you trying to tell me, Braddock?" asked the rigid voice, now sounding pressured to leave. "Did a few dead bodies down there spook you?"
"No. I mean there were bodies but they weren't all dead. They're…. I don't know what they look like. I don't know how to describe them. We only found two. They were cloaked in shadow and darkness."
"Inform me," said the voice, now intrigued. "Details, Braddock, details."
"That's the problem, sir. There isn't any information. We only know where they came from."
"Where?"
"'The Crypt'."
"Is that some kind of joke?"
"No. That's the nickname me and the boys have been calling the section past layers two and three in the northern section. Looks like a graveyard."
"A graveyard? With bodies?"
"I…think. It's strange, I can't recall it exactly. I just remember assuming they were dead and inanimate."
"You didn't scope the area out?"
"No."
Laurie chimed in softly, "It was a strange feeling, boss."
"How?"
Brad answered for her, motioning with a finger for her to keep quiet. "…We felt as if there was no need to investigate the corpses. But then others, very much alive, came out of nowhere when we started to tinker with one of the larger machines."
"You tampered with the machinery?"
"No. I couldn't tell you the first thing about how it all works." Brad shook his head, knowing the lives of his men exceeded the unnecessary concern about inanimate machinery. "We weren't even able to collect any samples from the rich deposits collected by the ancient machinery."
"So, you fled without obtaining any of the Mercurium from 'The Crypt'?"
"…!" With a gasp, Brad recalled the events, "Sir…I don't think you understand. They hunted us…followed us around like we were animals. Lured us to the back of the room with muffled noises. Laurie said she felt different, cold… The next thing I know, we're cornered. Instantly! Left and right, both sides simultaneously. I used my magnesium light flare to try and ward them off, but it was promptly extinguished."
"Your chemical light was turned off?"
"Correct. Never seen anything like it before. In pitch darkness, I had to order an immediate retreat. There was only one light, the light out. …Before we got to the door, I lost one of my squad, Logan Kirm. He was one of our new recruits from Olivine."
"Confirmed dead?"
"Might as well be. One of the monsters grabbed him, pulled him under this black shroud they were wearing. I tried to look back, but could see nothing but utter darkness. I heard him scream, then a loud crack. The yell was immediately cut off, must have snapped his neck in two…"
"How did they sneak up behind you? I didn't expect you to be so oblivious to your surroundings, Kelvin."
"I…couldn't see anything down there. I thought it was safe."
Laurie whispered, "It felt safe."
"There were only dead bodies riddled about the floor. Skeletons mostly, but a few corpses still intact. Which is really odd when you think about it because—"
"—In the north you said? In layer three?" the voice said, cutting off his thoughts.
"Yes, that's correct. The deepest part."
"Click! Click!" It sounded like the man was typing something on his keyboard from the other side. "Stature?"
"Bipedal. We weren't able to get a clear idea of what the figures actually were. They came out of nowhere. Almost as if to protect the machinery down there."
"Hmm…hmm," he hummed. "Pokemon?"
"No. Highly improbable. They couldn't have been Pokemon that we know about. Far too deep for most to survive. I'm pretty sure they weren't Ground Types either. The whole nature of that crypt…it's warped somehow—" he shot a glance at Laurie "—we were…helpless, powerless."
"Warped you say? Physically?"
"I can't confirm that either…Boss, you start to see things down there. Things that can't be real. Things that don't make sense. It…messes with your mind somehow. It's been putting us all on edge. Three of our members have been getting the shakes, but that may also be because of the recent loss of Kirm." Brad dared not to tell his superior about his partner's deep fears of whatever it was that lurked in the depths. He wanted them both to be cast in as much competence as possible considering the recent fumble. And that meant not expressing fear.
"Kelvin, I want you to remained stationed at the first level of piercing and collect more of the material from the shallower sections. Do not explore deeper into the cave until backup arrives. Remain invisible at all costs. No one is to find out any information concerning your mission down there. Plug all leaks by any means necessary." Then a pause. "…I'm told Cipher isn't paying for us to slip-up again!"
"Rodger that, Commander," the dark featured rocket said.
"Click!" and then static.
"Oh Brad," the woman said playfully, her arms still shaking from her recent peccadillo, "You're so dreadfully formal when it comes to business."
Brad's stiff fingers removed Laurie's advancing hand from his broad shoulder, "Such behavior has kept me alive. It'll keep us alive together, Laurie. I promise."
Advancing ever quickly, young Christian Feyera had made his way to 'Lunar Mountain' or as common folks called it: Mount Moon. The young trainer had not captured any Pokemon on his recent excursion east of Pewter City. Christian's thoughts were too entangled with his failure to defend members of his party during the unprecedented and destructive battle with Brock. Mister Feyera's seemingly innocent adventure was about to undergo an interesting turn however.
Feyera's Charmeleon, Brucie, was full of vitality. Now more than ever, Christian counted his blessings, his Pokemon evolved, meaning he had a stronger protector now…though he wondered whether he needed Pokemon, now that he exhibited the early signs of psyonic abilities. "Of course I need Pokemon," he thought. "I just never want to experience whatever happened in Pewter's Gym again, that was awful. Terrible…" Simply thinking about what had occurred seemed to put him into an inescapable state of reflection. The problem was these feelings were bittersweet. Though an unseen force had taken over him for a brief instant, he still felt compelled to collect more League Badges; there was something incredible about his recently earned badge. Why though? It wasn't like he had earned it. Or had he? Regardless, the ecstasy that took place when 'Edge' had taken over would not soon be forgotten by Feyera. Psyonics were as much of a miracle to the external world as they were to the person overrun by their whims.
While Christian and Brucie marched forward, they were met with little adversity. While the path west of Pewter was calm and lackluster, it was during moments like these where he felt especially vulnerable. Feyera knew that he had to protect his Pokemon partners from others, but could he even manage to protect them against himself, this psyonic-wielding Edge? It seemed impossible. Had Christian really attack Brock's Onix? He couldn't remember, the last thing he felt was a euphoric happiness during the battle. Was that wrong, considering the outcome was tragic? Did he derive some kind of sick pleasure from it? Christian could not even hold a candle to this daunting question without being overcome with guilt breeding more guilt. "My poor Pokemon…what if I'm hurting them? But whatever happened…it felt so amazing. I never knew Pokemon battles felt so good. No wonder there are so many trainers out there."
Upon entering the Pokemon center, its structure half buried into the mountainside, Christian was bumped into and nearly knocked back by an overly hyperactive man in his mid-forties. The man quickly turned and smiled at him, his already wide grin broadening further as he did so. His tight expression was wrinkled by the sun. He was wearing a large brimmed cowboy hat and a sported a foreign accent. "Well yee'ha! Say, howdy there…TRAINER!" The man's bright brown eyes looked at Feyera's "C-bladed" Pokéball holster. It was a Smith and Salven's brand holster, holding Pokéballs on a retractable rotating "C-plate". Each member of a Pokemon team had a unique slot this way. Brucie was first, and thus at the top of the arc. The important thing was that his present occupation as a trainer was easily ascertained by anyone who looked him over.
Christian forced a faux smile. "Err… Hello there, can I help you?"
"Well, ho ho! Sonny, ain't you a somebody!"
Feyera nervously rubbed his shoulder. "Ah… Nah, I'm more of a nobody."
"Nobody or not! That ain't all too important, boy. What's important is whether o' not you're on a Pokemon journey!"
"Um, yeah, so what if I am?" Feyera responded haphazardly. Conveniently through his stretch, his arm now covered his chest. He'd gotten quite good at it before Prevoy's gave their employees coffee aprons to wear.
"I'm talking about Pokemon dealings."
"Dealings? I can't trade with you…" Christian said, knowing he couldn't relinquish his new Pokemon friend.
"Ha! Trading?! Seems ya ain't too familiar with dealings outside o' Suburbia, boy!" the burly man joked with a deep drawl.
Christian tilted his head and squinted his eyes in confusion. "Excuse me?"
The man responded with a dry rhyme, "Sonny, I look fo' the coinage not fo' the plumage. Name's Jay. Jay Wayne."
"Oh…" Feyera responded, feeling as though he had just tasted something sour. "You mean cash for Pokemon? You run one of those businesses?"
Jay nodded suspiciously, "Ah yes, quite the notorious trade, with Silph cracking down on smuggling; but –conveniently enough– do I have just the deal for you! Right on here! Ya' see feller, in this here Pokéball—brand name, worth 200P mind you—there's a Pokemon—worth well over your life's savings! I'm willing to sell them both to you, sorta a package deal-o for only 500P. Ya got the cash?"
"Umm…that's kinda expensive." Feyera was usually frugal with his money. Mostly because he didn't have much. This whole journey was meant to be a soul-search anyway.
"Ah no, it isn't! This is a good deal, busta. I've marked this way down low an' even gave ya a 'professional discount' since you're a spunky trainer, ain't ya?"
"Uh, sorry but I'm good thanks," Feyera said trying to ward the man off. "I already have enough responsibility looking after one Pokemon."
"But wait! I'll also give ya the latest addition of Pokemon Battle Weekly! Hurry sonny, this here deal ain't gonna to last forever! I swear by it, you won't be regretting this, that's for sure! C'mon." Feyera felt thrown and a little cornered by the energetic baritone's voice, but his flinch only encouraged the shady merchant to persist!
"But I'm only supposed to be researching!" Feyera thought to himself. "I'll put myself in the red if I wind up buying my Pokemon."
"Don't worry, it's cheap! Ol' Wayne wouldn't rip ya off! In fact, I'll bet yer gonna look back and thank your smart young self one day! You'll get a new Pokemon ta up 'n protect ya from harm. And besides, it's a good idea if yer doin' research!"
"Ugh…" Feyera's weak point, he was always a curious type "What Pokemon is it? Curious…very curious. I wonder…" Quickly halting his wandering (and projected) thoughts, Feyera replied in fright, "Hold on! What do you mean?!"
"What's got yer spurs spinning?" Jay asked with the rise of a brow.
"Well," Christian tried to make it sound as nonchalant as possible, "how do you know I'm researching?!"
"Heh…I know a scientist when I see one." However, Jay seemed to notice the interest Feyera was taking and retracted the arm holding the capture device as if to reel him in. Jay dragged his hand around his hat's brim. "Heh heh…why don'tcha just look at them longing eyes of yours! Ho ho! This yer first time buyin' off the streets? Oh my does it show!"
"Humph!" "He's right." In response, Feyera asked him, "Listen, I don't know, I never really am one to go on hunches but this seems different, you've reasoned with me. What are you offering in particular?"
"My good friend, this here's a Water Type Pokemon. Mmmhmm! A big old guppy! Fish are incredibly useful. Water's very diverse, the whole sea is teaming with life. I used to have an off-shore oil rig, back when drillin' was profitable." The salesman's attitude had changed now that he had Christian interested in his offer. "Ah yes, in the South! 'The Baron o' the South' they called me! Ha! 'Jay Wayne', digging 'n drilling underwater for black gold with my Water Pokemon!"
"I don't have a Water Pokemon yet," Feyera thought to himself. "And Fire is weak to Water. It would be a good complimentary type for Brucie in battle." Why was he thinking about battling again? Couldn't he let it take a rest? Especially after everything that just happened! "Um… You mentioned Water Type Pokemon?" Christian asked innocently. "I don't believe much in buying my way to success though!"
"Oh boy, oh boy, Water Pokemon can do a whole bunch for you and your other Pokemon! I'll be willing to bet that you don't even have a Water Type yet!"
"Well…no but…" "I—"
"Hmm hmm!" As if reading his thoughts, the man responded swiftly, "Well, I guess not!"
"How?" Christian asked in confusion. Salesman or not, this man was far too good at reading his thoughts. It was so eerie. "How long have you been selling Pokemon?" Feyera asked, his pitch dropping.
"Me? Ha! Not very long, bud! Maybe a couple years, on and off. Here's the thing, this ol' bloke ain't got any savvy business tricks or nothing! Only what you're looking for. At a dirt cheap price ta boot!"
"No, I mean how'd you know what I was looking for?" "It was only a passing thought, but now…"
At this, Jay enthusiastically grinned. "Hey, everyone knows you need some diversity in your crew. One Pokemon ain't gonna cut it in the big leagues! What if your next opponent happens to have a type advantage you cannot overcome? Gotta keep fueling the old train's furnace with fresh coal, no? C'mon! Manifest Destiny! Expansion 'n all!"
It seemed all too simple. Feyera wanted to expand his team. It was worth it. Despite the man's urgency to sell to him, his own urgency to further grow his team was the deciding factor.
Sighing and whipping out his wallet, "I'll take it," Feyera said. He didn't even flinch as he handed over the last few of his large bills; he'd made a decision, and that was final. That was the good old Doctor Feyera, dedicated and committed to a decision as always.
"Atta boy!" Jay quickly grabbed the wad of paper money, "Now, I don't give no refunds or nothin'! Enjoy! Yeehaw!"
After the exchange, the man hurried off, Christian opened the Pokéball with all the curiosity of a pent up child on Christmas morning. The ball split open and revealed a large carp fish Pokemon with a gapping mouth and two curly barbells. They were extra curly, a female characteristic for Magikarp.
"Gah, it's a Salire Cyprinus! Oh no! I've heard about how weak these Fish Pokemon are!" Feyera said, "Aw, darn it! I've been duped!" The frail orange fish flopped around the Pokemon Center's lobby helpless and completely powerless. Feyera sighed, at least he had a copy of one of his favorite magazines. "…Oh no!" Tricked again, the magazine was from last year! Stamping his foot on the ground, he swore under his breath. "Tauros shit!"
Grumbling with disappointment that he had been conned, Feyera set out to explore the cave calling the newly obtained and terribly weak Magikarp "Desperado" since he had been swindled by a real rapscallion. Seemed like an outlaw had just philtered his money from of him. "Of all the rotten luck…" he muttered placing his hands into his pockets as he walked outside into the crisp air.
"Let's do this—" Christian began to say, but realized he was thinking more than he was speaking. It was strange. No denying that. "Everybody. Brucie and Des…" he emphasized hoarsely. Once again, guilt seemed to trump his good progressive intentions. He spoke to a group different from before the Pewter City Gym battle. Rebuilding his team with scientifically proven weak species such as Desperado—even if she had a name he was fond of—did not making the grieving process any easier. Hopefully he could fix his mistakes. In fact, he was determined to.
The cave within Mount Moon was dark, but not pitch black. The stalagmites reached almost to the ceiling, a testament to the age of this place. Countless waves of Zubat flew around eager to taste blood with their Leech Life attack. Fortunately, the bat Pokemon were deterred by Brucie's flaming tail and although they danced about the trainer and Pokemon occasionally, none of them seemed interested in attacking Feyera or his loyal companion as they progressed past the antechamber of the cave's interior.
Stumbling clumsily in the dance of shadows, Christian braced against wall to stop his fall. To his surprise, the rock moved!
"AH! It's alive!" he shouted in fright.
It was alive—a Geodude just like Brock's! "Anima Petra!" he thought. Knowing exactly how to handle it, but not necessarily wanting to go overboard with Brucie's new powers a Charmeleon, nor accidently summon the psyonic Edge, Christian ordered a weak Ember. Quickly the Geodude curled up into a ball.
"It's using Defense Curl!" The flames pirouetted around the Pokemon, crackling and sizzling its outer shell but not doing much damage. The Pokemon removed its arms from its face and smirked at Feyera. It was taunting him! "Brucie, use your claws!"
The Charmeleon dashed at his target, claws above its head, ready to strike. But the wild Geodude was ready. It grappled Brucie's grip, punching him in the gut with a fist of solid rock.
"Chaaaaaar!" Feyera's Pokemon whined.
"This looks bad!" "Enough! Pokéball, GO!" Twisting and shouting, Feyera threw a Pokéball and it was an instant capture. The "click" and "ding!" could not have sounded better.
"YES!" he shouted, the voice echoing throughout the cave's wide mouth. Here he was actually capturing Pokemon. He was doing something right for once! All the excitement sent pleasure down his spine, and he shivered wildly. "Sheesh, what a hard-headed Pokemon. Let's call you 'Jill'. My name's Christian — or actually 'Edge Feyera'. I'm a Pokemon researcher with a doctorate on a Pokemon journey, welcome to the crew!"
Jill's rocky hide was especially brittle, with a few imperfections, but she still had a large deal of stamina despite facing Brucie's fire attack only recently. It must have been a strong Pokemon. He was beyond lucky to have caught her in one shot.
The Geodude smiled at Feyera; it was nice for him to have earned a Pokemon so quickly, uncanny really. Typically capture rates were abysmal unless you bought premium grade pokeballs. And who had the kind of money for that? Feyera only had two Pokéballs left to his name. While he wanted to expand his crew, he also didn't want to be overzealous in capturing Pokemon. Even if the populations of wild Pokemon were diminishing, there were still plenty of the creatures throughout the world—but especially here in Kanto. Regions like Orre were the only regions where the DBC actually took Silph's product 'Pokéball' off the shelves. This of course lead to an entire underground market. He got the chills from realizing he'd purchased Desperado off a smuggler. Had he inadvertently contributed to Team Rocket's black market for Pokemon? Nah, the salesman he'd bought from was only a scammer, and apparently one pretty good at it, considering he managed to fool someone as cynical as Feyera. "That jerk must've been some kind of mind reader!" Christian grumbled, "Can't believe I was tricked like that!"
Lightly and lithely, the small group pressed east through the cave. Jill was great cover for Desperado as they trained together by repelling the native Zubat. Jill had no real blood so the Zubat could only rely on their Supersonic attack to fight her. Even then, her ears were probably filled with dirt! On the offensive, they were no match for her powerful Rock Throw technique. This was Anima Petra's natural environment after all. Heading deeper into the cave, the group began to hear wailing, a steady out-of-place moaning.
"Oww…ugh! Ow…."
"That definitely sounds human!" Christian said worriedly. Feyera's Pokemon were poorly skilled at listening, their ears were not accustomed to hearing low pitches, so he had to lead the way for them.
As he walked, his mind began to race with thoughts. "What's going on? Who was in trouble?" Something drew him ever closer to the origin of the sounds, it was a tingle in the air guiding him towards the source, his pace growing ever quicker. Turning a corner, and rushing down a steep incline, Feyera saw the reason, but he did so feeling strangely out-of-touch with himself.
A young trainer similar to himself, lay against a small rock formation. Gasping and coughing, the man was in dire condition. His nails dug into the earthen floor as he saw Christian approach.
"…! Oh…! Oh mercy…!" Terror swept over Feyera while he breathlessly tried to stop the other man's severe bleeding. "Hold on!" whispered Edge, through a bizarre mix of words and telepathy. Shaking, the auburn haired researcher used a damp cloth from his backpack's med-pack to tighten around the gaping wound, struggling to pull hard enough to create a splint. Jill, who had suddenly become very interested, helped Christian pull the knot.
"Mmm." The injured trainer gave a whimper of affirmation.
"It's too much blood," he thought, "I can't save him!"
"N—no!" The wounded trainer tensed up, clinging tightly onto Feyera's sleeve. "I can't die! You can save me! You have to try!"
"Shh shh! I didn't say that!" Looking down in despair, Feyera noticed the incisions on the trainer's leg. "Where did those bite marks come from?! Pokemon?"
Weakly, the other trainer nodded. "It's—*cough!*—it's going to kill me, isn't it?"
"No! Hold on!" Feyera finally said as the young man began to stir again after freezing up. There was a nagging headache in Christian's mind, the once illuminated room began to dim. "What did this? Wild Pokemon?" raced the psyonic thoughts.
"N–no," he said with a bone chilling shudder he could not control nor cease.
"–Quickly, tell me what happened!" he asked aloud. "You need to tell me everything that happened!"
The victim shook his head, beyond saving due to all the blood loss. "I *cough* tried to stand up against 'em…the savages…"
"Dammit! I swear, whoever did this to you will have to answer for their crimes! They won't get away!" Feyera suddenly said with surprising certainness accompanied by a cool flush of psyonic rush.
"You will?" the man asked. Clouds began to roll over his once bright eyes.
"I–I promise!"But the longer he looked at the suffering trainer, the worse he felt, the more he felt like he was sinking into Edge. "I'll get them!" First there was a sharp pain in his chest, followed by a tight constriction of his feeble lungs. His mind was in shambles, all he could focus on doing was firmly holding onto this man's trembling hand. "Hey! Hey! Keep it together! You're going to be okay!" he tried to lie, while also trying to suppress what felt like psyonic energy pressing against the frames of his mind, feeding elevated sensations to Feyera's consciousness. Without realizing it, he asked in telepathic thought: "Who attacked you? You need to tell me so I can help you. Time's running out."
"Cough!" Gurgling and spitting blood, the young man said barely audible words, "A Growlithe…there was a yellow haired woman, and a man with…Team Rocket…they—they're the ones that killed m—" the last word was left unfinished as his eyes glazed over.
"No…" Feyera said, shaking the still body leaning on his knee. "NO! Wake up!"
But he wouldn't. He was gone.
Feyera was left only with his empty thoughts. "…I…I couldn't save him." Thoughts of inadequacy echoed throughout the dingy cave's walls. Trembling, Feyera released the man's stiff hand. "Rockets…" His thoughts continued to gain volume in the empty cavern. "Is this—Death? Right here? In my arms?" Feyera shook his head. "I never see anyone as an object until death. Prior to dying, they are subjects. Subjects…like me. And then—not anymore…"
"Ah! *Sniff!* No!" In a daze, he looked down at the peacefully sleeping man. He didn't look like Feyera, he was a bit broader around the waist, but in spite of this, he saw a bit of himself in the deceased trainer. Gently, he closed his vacant eyes, which had greyed like foggy windows on a cold winter's morning. Feyera felt tears forming in his own eyes. "Fragility…death…this feeling." Was he seriously about to lose it all over again?
In their dire concern, the nearby Pokemon looked at the two young men, forming a tight circle.
Breathlessly, Feyera muttered his thoughts to the stilled body, "Fragility's revealed in death. I'm sorry. I wasn't able to do anything. I let you turn into an object; I'm…sorry." Feyera shuddered violently. He knew the facts, being devoid of life consequently made one into a thing rather than a being.
"Dammit." Feyera looked away. "I…I don't want to die. Will Pokemon be able to protect me? Will hiding behind these psyonics, as Edge, keep me safe? Hmm…"
A rocky hand patted his ankle. His Pokemon must've known how distraught he felt. At least there was that comfort.
"Please, let's make a hole for him to rest in." Feyera requested that Jill dig a small grave for the dead man. She complied while fighting back tears of her own. Feyera had no idea that Pokemon were capable of experiencing empathy. Much less understand death the way humans did. It was strange seeing her nearly as sad as he was. Despite being a Pokemon, it seemed as if there was some mutual understanding between the two of them. Jill was able to see how upset Feyera was, and not just based on appearances either. His essence was overflowing with pain and distress.
"His name wasn't known. It will never be known…" he said. He couldn't believe this had all happened. "Where will it end?!" Feyera had always heard the Pokemon world was a dangerous place. Death was never out of the question. But he never thought he would experience death firsthand!
But he shook his head thinking to himself, "What am I talking about? Of course I've encountered death! But I was far too excited by the cracking of newfound psyonic knuckles to remember that Lawrence died—" "—People." "And Pokemon." "Where do the differences end and the similarities begin? Both are here on this planet to grow and live together. Neither one is safe from death however." Feyera pocketed a blood-stained hand. He said quietly, "Stay close to me, everyone. Let's keep one another safe."
Spirits wilted in the inexperienced group while they moved onwards through the heavy atmosphere. As they pressed on, there was a faint tremor that caused him to wobble. Feyera looked questionably at his Pokemon. None of them seemed phased by it; perhaps it was all just in his head.
Or perhaps a buried orchestra of secrets had begun to stir deep underground, in a place where depth becomes both vague and meaningless…