Chapter Two: First Contact

New York City. Two hundred years ago, it had been the city for dreams to be realized in. It was the heartbeat of the great nation of America, the nation that had endured through wars, through natural disasters, through just about anything one could think of. Even during the Chaos War, it had been relatively unharmed – or, at least, not anymore than the other Western nations. Through it all, the coined "Lady Liberty" had stood tall, the Twin Towers stood their way, and NYC remained great.

Now, of course, the world had changed. New York had lost its glitz and glamour with the introduction of the warp drive, seeing as Starfleet and the Federation of Planets were headquartered in San Francisco. Yet, despite all this, tourists and visitors from as far as the edge of the Beta Quadrant still came here, to the shining star of the east coast, to see the sights. It was a marvelous city, and one that could impress even the most advanced of civilizations. It was a remarkable feat in human engineering.

Unfortunately, it was also very, very crowded.

At least the rooftops were clear.

High above the city streets, only a few blocks from the hotspot known as Times Square, a figure stood perched atop the Henry Archer Aeronautics Museum. The forty-story building was now about twenty years old, having been erected a few years after the death of the Warp-Five engineer. The sleek, alloy top shone faintly in the pale moonlight, just barely illuminating the individual atop it. Although the figure was silhouetted, one could faintly pick out that it stood on two legs at about six and a half feet tall, with a roughly feline countenance and a long tail that swished lightly through the cold night air. At the right angle, where the taller skyscrapers didn't overshadow the museum, the reason for its obscurity became clear: It was covered in a thick, brown cloak. The fabric, more than a protection of identity than shelter from New York's often harsh climate, was wrapped across the individual's thin shoulders and draped almost to the rooftop. Every time a gust brushed past, it lifted the cape and offered any onlookers a slightly better look – but only for a brief moment.

The creature wasn't documented anywhere in this universe. Even on this, his home planet, he couldn't be found in a single Pokédex, internet database, or even tucked away in some unknown computer file guarded by a thousand firewalls and a hundred different passkeys.

He'd made sure of it.

It was Myuutsu, the Genetic Pokémon, Team Rocket's best-kept secret and a mystery in itself. He was the product of human ingenuity and greed when the two met and clashed. He'd been genetically engineered 173 years ago to make one man a shipload of profit and for no other reason. Myuutsu had, consequently, rebelled against his creators and sworn vengeance against humanity, only to be yielded by a single human child.

But all that had been years ago. No one from his past of over a century and a half ago was still alive. The legendary genome that was part of his genetic makeup (provided, of course, by Mew) had enabled him to live this long, and likely for several more centuries. By that time, the bitter memories of what humanity had been prior to, and during, the Chaos War would be only in the history databases and on the datapads of young schoolchildren. He, though; he would never forget the way he'd been exploited first by the once-infamous criminal organization and then by the Yami no Kaze.

Others did exist that would, too, share his memories. Suicune, of course, knew better than any other the disastrous effects of the Chaos War and the Rogue virus. Other than her, the other legendaries recalled the trials and tribulations of humanity and the Pokémon that shared the planet with them. Mew, the first witness to his initial rage against the human race and the dubbed "mother of the world", had personally watched in horror as the Yami no Kaze had torn apart the life she'd started. Yet, none of the legends had stepped up during the crisis. It was, as Arceus had told them, too risky. When Suicune had been taken control of by Keiichi, "doing something" had been easier said than done. All the legendaries depended on each other. If one fell out of sync, the world fell out of sync. This had been a lesson the world learned after the Chaos, and one they would not soon forget.

The problems nowadays, however, were not so much internal as they were external. With Earth's exploration of space and the enemies that came with it, humanity had learned to deal with their problems without the help of legendaries. Technology, not elemental powers, now governed warfare. In the process, however, the planet's guardians had faded into the myths and legends that they were now more than ever.

Myuutsu was, essentially, the bridge in the gap between legend and technology. He was a city dweller; always out of sight but rarely out of reach to the very few who knew of him. The cape across his shoulders was the urban legendary's constant reminder of the past and all it had taken from him. It was a reminder that the past was never to be forgotten. More than that, though, it was a reminder that everything moved on.

This night, the Psychic had traveled to America if for no reason other than a change of pace; a change of scenery. His birthplace lay in Kanto, one of the major regions of Japan, but America had always drawn him in with its chaotic, relentless optimism and the fight that had made its citizens the stuff of legends. The city moved quickly enough that he remained unnoticed, though occasionally a news writer would send in an obscure article about New York's "mysterious dweller". These articles were trivial at best. When humanity had issues stirring up hundreds of light years from Earth, anything on-planet was hardly a concern.

He, personally, enjoyed the diversity Earth was now enjoying. The number of humanoids and Pokémon (though the name of the latter varied from planet to planet) was now immeasurable. But with a smaller universe came the notion that a single planet; a single species was no longer as significant as it had been a century or even fifty years ago.

For once, Myuutsu felt he was part of something. He had always battled with self-identity. But now he knew. He was a citizen of Planet Earth, and that was as specific as he needed it to be.

A slight tremor in the air about him caused the Genetic Pokémon to instantly break away from his musings. He about-faced in a split second, keen eyes scanning the rooftop. Something was definitely here. For all he knew, it was probably just a maintenance worker or someone getting off work late and taking a break on the roof. Myuutsu tensed, prepared to teleport if anyone showed.

He mentally shook it off. Maybe the demons of the Chaos War really had shaped him into a paranoid individual…

"So, you're the city's watchdog or something to that effect?"

Instantly, he whirled about again at the sound of a male's voice. His violet eyes surveyed the area before resting on a dark figure just a few meters away. Myuutsu resisted the urge to smash this idiot's skull in, or otherwise incapacitate him, and merely stood his place. "Who are you?" the Psychic inquired, wary.

The figure took a few steps forward into the light that shone a few meters away on the building. He was human, about forty-two years of age (give or take), and had a very irritating smile on his face. "I'm Q. But I can't expect you to know that." The man's grin grew the closer he got, also revealing wide, expressive eyes and dark, swept-back hair. "So you must be that Myuutsu figure no one knows anything about, hm?" Dark eyes swept over the Pokémon. "No wonder no one gets a good photo of you. You're always wearing that ridiculous cape like you're some kind of vigilante."

"I'm not going to stand here and take insults from a stranger," he seemed to snarl through his telepathy, and started to turn away. Despite the fact that he was deeply bothered by the fact that (A) the man had appeared out of nowhere and (B) knew who he was, Myuutsu wouldn't be ridiculed. He shot off the rooftop across the sky, sure that now he would be well-rid of this… "Q", as he had called himself. To his utter shock, though, the man appeared directly in his flight path, as if simply standing in mid-air. For a long moment, the two just stared at each other, Q looking smugger than ever. Myuutsu decided to take the bait that had just been dangled in front of his snout. "What are you and what is your interest in me?"

"I'm a Q," he explained, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But you said your name was-"

"Yes, yes, it is my identity and my species. Actually, you simple bipeds are too… well, simple-minded to fully comprehend my identity, so 'Q' will have to do. Besides, you seem to be familiar enough with the concept." Since Myuutsu didn't say anything, he continued, "As you've no doubt ascertained, I'm not human or even humanoid. In fact, I find it really insulting you'd think of me as such." When the Psychic's eyes widened in shock, Q elaborated in saying, "Yes, I can read minds. Get over it."

Myuutsu bristled. New, unclassified species or not, Q was downright irritating. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, I'd like to get to know you."

He stared incredulously at the entity. "Me."

"Yes, you."

He snarled and turned tail in mid-air to fly away. "I'm not interested in interviews no matter what you are."

Q apparently had other ideas and proceeded to follow the urban legendary. "You don't know what I can do."

"I don't care."

"Unbelievable."

Fed up with Q, Myuutsu lashed out with a Shadow Ball and a loud, "GO AWAY!"

The Q frowned at him, and then snapped his fingers, making the Shadow Ball go vanish. "I knew that you had a low tolerance level, but you're as bad as Jean-Luc."

"Jean…? Never mind."

"You're being difficult."

Myuutsu paused above the ancient Chrysler Building, turning to glare at his pursuer. "You are the one stalking me!" he pointed out fairly.

Q "hmphed" in disapproval. "You are being rather uncooperative, Myuutsu. I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because then you won't get the warning about what's going to happen to you."

"What? What would happen to me?"

"This." He snapped his fingers…

…And Myuutsu's life changed forever.

A bright, blinding light enveloped him, and a searing pain came along with it. He tried to lash out with his psychic abilities to fend it off, but to no avail; it was as if they had simply stopped working. He gritted his teeth to bite back a yell, but a feral cry ripped from his already weak vocal cords. Muscles reshaped, bones shifted position, and his entire facial structure was changing. The thin layer of fur and tail vanished into his morphing figure, and even his paws and feet were moving into long appendages. The pain was so far beyond the Chaos Virus, so far beyond anything he had ever felt, so excruciating that for the first time he prayed that it would end, that he would just die along with it. The process, in reality, had lasted no longer than five seconds, but for Myuutsu it was an eternity.

He started to fall, and attempted to catch himself with telekinesis. He focused, and…

Nothing.

He crashed hard onto the roof and groaned with the additional ache that came with it. The cloak still remained around his shoulders, but that was all. He inhaled sharply when he looked at his hands.

Hands. Not paws.

Human hands.

Shaking uncontrollably, he ran these foreign appendages over his face. Eyes… nose… mouth… long, thin hair… This was a nightmare. He couldn't even project his thoughts out to Q, or use any of the abilities he'd known since before breaking through the tank he had developed in. Gone were his enhanced vision, powerful lower body, and utterly formidable psychokinetic abilities. Sixty seconds ago, he'd harboured enough energy to destroy all life on the planet. Now, he couldn't even bend a spoon.

He was human. Somehow, Myuutsu had been transformed into the very thing he had despised for so long.

Frankly, it was awful.

Myuutsu stumbled to his feet and braced himself. It felt so strange without a tail to balance himself and feet that actually laid flat on the ground. After a moment, he got the hang of balancing and looked about for Q. A bright flash announced the being's attendance, but he looked a bit different now. Judging by Q's expression, he meant business.

"Believe me, Myuutsu, I would have rather not done that so suddenly. But you were being difficult."

The suddenly-human Psychic didn't know how to reply. He'd known nothing but telepathy his whole life. All he could do was fumble with his arms and hands until they pulled the cloak tighter around his exposed body. He glared at Q, wishing now more than ever that he had abilities so he could unleash his full rage onto that stupid—

Q allowed a smirk, saying, "You're almost pitiful like this." He waved a hand, and a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a windbreaker appeared on Myuutsu's body. "And don't worry, you can speak. I'm not that cruel. Just use your tongue."

"W… Wha…t…" he began slowly, trying to work his tongue around the words. Irritated, he focused on his message and his nails dug into his palms. The pain helped him focus. "What… did you… do… to me?" His own voice was deeper, though almost identical to the baritone of his telepathic "voice". It carried the slightest hint of his Japanese origins in the form of an accent, a concept that was pretty much moot for a telepath. The action was the strangest sensation, actually using his vocal cords for once.

"Isn't it obvious, my dear psychic?" A snap, and a mirror appeared in Myuutsu's hand. A thirty-some-year-old human face with bright amethyst eyes, a light complexion, and off-white hair stared back through the reflective surface. "The only way I can truly judge you as a sentient being is in a more vulnerable form."

"Do you… have any idea… what I'm… going through right now!"

Q rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately, yes. For some time, I was condemned to a human form by the Q Council. They took away my powers, and trust me, it was awful. The same happened to my son."

Myuutsu frowned, first at the thought of this man actually being a father. "What did he do?"

"You… don't want to know," the Q replied dryly. "But a week as a human under his human godmother's eye was the best thing that happened to him – and me." He smiled at the memory. "Ah, Kathy…"

"Ahem," he cleared his throat loudly to get Q's attention. "You think I am abusing my powers? Or is this simply part of your sick game?"

"I know your past, Myuutsu. But to answer your question… I suppose one could consider it all part of the test."

"Explain."

"A test of character. To see how you react in different situations," Q explained. A quick snap of his fingers, and a watch appeared on Myuutsu's left wrist, and a wallet fell into his right hand. In his pocket he felt a communicator… Certainly something he never thought he'd be using. "It's enough to sustain you for the five days you'll be in this state."

Myuutsu leveled him with an icy hot glare. He had, unfortunately, shrunk to six feet tall during the transformation. "You claim to be omnipotent. So why this?"

"Because," he replied with a smirk, "it's much more interesting this way."

Without another word, he vanished in a flash, leaving Myuutsu alone with his thoughts.

After scouring the roof of the Chrysler Building, Myuutsu was able to find a way inside. He'd been caught without his abilities before, but at least his physical skills had been there. Now he was no better than the other billion humans on the planet.

He couldn't have at least made me a Vulcan, he thought bitterly as he climbed down the ladder. At least they had some kind of higher mental capability. When these five days were up, oh, was Q going to find out what happened to those who got on his bad side. Of course, Q had made it quite clear his was virtually indestructible, but a hit or two would make the Psychic feel better.

He stood a minute later in the elevator as it descended to ground level. It was at that moment he realized just how difficult these next days would be. The fact was, he didn't know how to be a human. He'd need a place to sleep, food, shelter, and other necessities. There also existed the probability he would need to… socialize. Myuutsu shuddered internally at the thought. As much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn't be able to get through this alone.

From a makeshift pocket in his cloak he pulled out the wallet Q had given him. He opened it, and a human face – his face – looked back at him. "Hashimoto Jirou," he read aloud to himself, "Age, 31. Race, Human. Occupation, none."

One could put 'law enforcement' there if they liked, he thought. He'd been active enough in the cities the past century-and-a-half, not that crime was nearly as prominent these days. A stolen hovercraft here, a misconduct violation there, but nothing serious. Also in the wallet were a few hundred credits and a handwritten note on a scrap of paper. Myuutsu pulled it out, reading,

'Should be enough to sustain you for a few days. If you run out of credits… Too bad. Not that I'm completely heartless; you just need to learn how to live. I'll be watching.

-Q'

He snorted at the note. It was quickly stuffed back into the wallet as the elevator 'dinged'. So much for humans being annoying, Q was impossible! At least they had some degree of compassion. To the Q (this one, anyways), the universe was a game of chess, and everyone else was the pawns.

These thoughts, among more vulgar ones, swam through his mind as he made his way out. Walking was infinitely slow; he'd need something faster. Myuutsu looked about the streets. Groundcars filled New York City's streets while the newer aircars drifted through the sky. It wasn't that he was too proud to ask for help. He just didn't know a single thing about being in this region of the world. Anyone who did know him personally was over in the four major regions of Japan.

And that's where he would go.

He scanned for the vehicles labeled "Taxi". Now, what was one supposed to do? Hail them? Make some kind of gesture? Yell?

"TAXI!" someone yelled behind him, whistling shrilly. He whirled about, but immediately regretted it.

"Can I not have five minutes without you checking up on me, Q?"

"Oh, but I sensed your confusion!"

"I don't need your assistance."

The entity smiled as a taxi pulled over. He placed a hand on Myuutsu's shoulder, sending a shiver up his spine. "Of course you do," Q insisted, leading him towards the taxi. "You're more pathetic than I originally imagined. In fact, I probably should have done this decades ago!"

He smacked Q's hand off of his shoulder and climbed into the cab. "And you are welcome to leave any time you wish."

"I'll join you, if you don't mind."

"I do mind."

"Hm." Q paused, but started in anyways. "Ah, well, you might need me to-"

"LEAVE!" the now-human snarled, slamming the door shut and sighing heavily. Good Arceus…

In front, the cab driver chuckled. "Gee, who was that?"

"It hardly concerns you," Myuutsu snapped back.

"Oh. Ahem. …Where you headed?"

"Joss Hayes Airport."

The groundcar rumbled to life beneath and started off. Myuutsu crossed his arms and settled back into the seat. This was bound to take forever. It was certainly preferable to simply teleport or fly, instead of having to—

"And where from there?"

He shot a glare to the taxi driver. "Thirty-two minutes ago all I would have had to do is look at you and your brain would be frying inside your skull to a crisp in such a manner that would put Colonel Sanders to shame. Now, please, shut up and drive."

To his credit, the driver immediately stopped talking. Granted, his face turned about fifty percent paler, but he didn't so much as breathe too loudly the remainder of the drive to the airport.

These would be the longest five days of Myuutsu's life.