Disclaimer: I speak to everybody who dares to dream, when I say this: I do not own any of this.

Gettin' the Show on the Road

Destiny is a bitch!
-Riley

Okay, things pretty much escalated like you'd expect, really. May was pissed, Serena was brooding not so silently, Oak was smiling, having some inclination as to what was truly going on here, and poor little me was caught right in the middle of the shitstorm. And really it didn't go as I'd hoped at all because that would have involved May and Serena losing their clothing and wrestling each other butt-naked on the floor, while Oak would inexplicably just vanish into thin air.

But strangely enough there wasn't nearly as much fight about gettin' me as about how fucked-up I had to be; you know, in the head and hearts of heart and all the cool and awesome stuff.

"I'm telling you, it's suicide, Serena," May said, arms crossed under the lovely swell of her bosom. A tear in her red dress revealed even more of her gorgeous curves, almost where it really mattered, man, but she stood without a shame or care about it; her beauty had always granted her such confidence. "He can't continue to do what he sought out to do last night."

"He succeeded, didn't he?" Serena – equally pissed-off, equally, though nonetheless differently, beautiful – said. "Without him, I shudder to think how things would've turned out."

"You might be right." May nodded. "Maybe, just maybe Saffron would have been nothing but a desolated wasteland of scorched earth and maybe millions of souls would have been lost in the fire, but that's too much for one man to bear. And he is, even if you won't believe it, only just a man, Serena. Not an island, or a would-be-God."

"From the look of it, he seemed to inspire people with the means to fight to stand up and give back," Serena replied, before gesturing at Oak. "The Professor must agree with me, otherwise I fail to see why he wouldn't stop Ash from doing it."

"Well," Oak said, the smile leaving his face as he was drawn unwillingly into the conversation. "Well, Ash didn't give me much of a choice, if any at all."

Fuck you, you spineless imbecile, I thought, and then promptly felt wrong for thinking such thoughts. Not because I didn't think Oak was spineless, or anything, but because before Aaron had called me imbecile I'd never heard anyone say that to me in my entire life. To even think such thoughts meant that, even without the suit on my skin and within my mind, Aaron would forevermore have an effect on my mind.

Not a very comforting thought, Drew, no not at all a friendly thought.

"Well." I pondered what to say, tapping my chin to give me time. Two pairs of icy-blue eyes waited expectantly for my answer. I kinda felt like I was being henpecked. And that could really destroy any man's self-worth, couldn't it? "What was I suppose to say again?"

Both May and Serena rolled their eyes, annoyed. "You're impossible, you're impossible," they both said at the same time. And then they stopped talking all together and stared at each other like they couldn't believe they'd actually agreed on something.

"Echo," I said, throwing a mock-look round the room, "didn't know your living room had such resonation, Professor."

"Oh, shut up!"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, a rakish smile upon my handsome face. "You want me to bend over, too? Because I'll do it, if you tell me to!"

You could tell tales of splendor and might of a jealous woman's scorn, couldn't you? There was nothing quite so fierce, quite so unrelenting, as a beautiful woman, with great curves in a ruined red dress, nothing quite so everlasting as the image of grace in Serena Corneau, wearing her thigh-short skirt and tank-top. I was always and forever spellbound by their power. Not of their bodies – well, not just of their bodies – but their minds. Their souls. Such fierce protectiveness and forgiveness. To me there is nothing harder in life than forgiveness. Those with the ability to forgive are far too few and scant. To dare to dream of a world, where everybody was capable of something as pure and simple, yet so terribly hard, as forgiveness, is to dare for the impossible, I know, yet what a beautiful thought it is.

And these women had forgiven whatever I'd put them through by disappearing on 'em. Had forgiven me in less than a heartbeat, had done so the moment they saw my ugly mug. What did I have within me that could inspire such frightening love and loyalty? Or were these two women simple that strong?

But no matter their strengths of character, in this matter they were both horribly wrong and naïve. May thought herself right because she'd seen the ugly side of the fight, or at least a part of it, and Serena thought herself right because she simply believed in me to do the right thing, as she'd come to know me for over the years. But that boy was long gone, and this war was gonna become a helluva lot more messy if what I'd seen and felt was gonna come true.

"You didn't see what I saw," May was saying, bouncing nervously on her feet by the thought alone. "You didn't see the madness, Serena…"

"I saw enough, May," she said stubbornly, keeping her ground and wits about her. "I saw what he could do – what nobody had dared possible for centuries. Aura, I'm sure."

I nodded. "Aura."

"You didn't see the other side," May whispered, her arms almost hugging herself now, as if to shield her from her own memories. "You didn't see the fire blazing within that great red eye." She didn't look at me, didn't dare, just kept her eyes fixated on Serena, wanting to convince her of my future undoing if they didn't act. "Have you seen the power of the fire within his eyes – true fire? Have you ever truly gazed upon the wraith it can havoc if left unsatisfied for too long? I have, last night. Wastelands of everlasting fire and darkness, girl… Why? Why? Why? Why should we approve of such fire – within such an innocent soul? Why should we do what we're about to do, approve what we're about to approve, when we know of his deeds, of the nature of the madness of such deeds? Are these times really that desperate?"

"Ask Unova about that," I said, almost growled, tired of being ignored and over-talked. "The only reason you've been able to live your lives like you have, the only reason cities like Saffron still stands like monuments of mankind, is because of men like me."

"Men like you?" May dared to ask.

"Yes. Men like me. Rough men. Men who willingly dares to confront the monsters at our rim. Men who fought, and fight, and will fight against monsters turned mad. Rough men who'll do rough and immoral deeds so that good men can sleep soundly at night."

"What happened to you, Ash, in the wilderness?" May asked, a single tear escaping her perfect eye, silently and lonely trickling down the side of her innocently beautiful face. "What did you see?"

"The future," I said, and damn it if it was gonna come true. "I think I saw the future."

The future is never set in stone, if you can actually believe that. Most people either can't or won't. I am not most people, however, and after everything is said and done, after every fucked up actions is taken and nothing salvageable is left, then you can say to me that I was wrong, that I've failed. But until then shut up and let me work, and don't fuckin' fret, man, I've got this shit down to the letter.

Well, almost, I guess.

Nothing is, after all, set in stone.

Gettin' back on track and all that shit. Mantra of the day, right there. I was in a bad shape, though, as I am not wont to admit. My body ached still with lances of pure pain, sometimes shooting through the sides of my ribcage, sometimes going straight for my head, but most times just fuckin' everywhere. And if that wasn't enough, it wasn't even the worst of it. I was in the small section of Oak's lab, kindly lent out by the Professor himself, and was doing some tests on the suit. The suit responded to my every probe, it seemed, guided me through every mistake, and while that sounded all good and dandy, it was the splash of white light on the floor, filtered through the dirt-ridden window, which came from the crescent moon peeking down from high on the horizon, that really drove home the irritation I felt within.

I still couldn't sleep, man. Didn't even feel the smallest nudge of sleep in my shoulda been tired eyes. And on a night like this, when everything just seemed to hurt, and my ears still rang from the argument with the two girls I loved, who now slept soundly together in the guest-room almost directly above me – picture that, if you can, I certainly could – I found it more annoying than useful. Sure I could probably learn something or two, sitting here in all my lonesome, tweaking there and twitching here and probing wherever – and if you didn't fear the loneliness of your own emptiness, then you were almost always in for one helluva enlightening. But that's a story for another time.

"Core-functions prohibited," a cool, robotic voice said as I apparently turned the wrong screw, or something. It was like reaching in the dark, man. "Rerouting Ambivalent material to first-protocol. Aura-core connected, Core-functions intact. Aura functions available."

"Sounds about right," I said, nodding like I knew my shit. "Eh, please repeat, would ya?"

It didn't say anything.

"Well, fuck you, too."

"You certainly know how to make people feel welcome, don't you?"

I spun on my chair. I felt as if I was back in the game, with mad Pokémon grasping after me. I was wide-awake in a splintered second, a pang of fear, like an echo of past misery and despair, smote me. My hands rose, almost on their own will, and my palms were filled with hellish fire ready to tear down buildings and monsters and burn the fabric of reality if it became a necessity.

The fire illuminated Oak's, all things considered, calm face. He shied away from the fire, though he also smiled. Guess he was getting used to my trigger-happy tendencies. Shoot first and ask questions later, right, Boss?

"Oak," I gasped. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Like you, working," he said, drawing a hand over his gaunt and tired face. "Come, I have something to show you – and please, take off that horrible suit."

By the force of my intent, the grey weave glided off my skin and settled into the silver ring on my finger once again. Oak nodded, satisfied, and turned and led me out of the lab and back to his own.

"I've taken a look on the Fearow you caught," he said, over his shoulder, as we walked through the narrow hallway heading back to the main lab. "I healed it, as well, you gave it one heck of a hit, I must say. But there is indeed something… wrong about it."

"I didn't commit any lasting damage, did I?"

Oak shook his head. "No, its body is fine – it's the mind that's troubling me. My scanners read two life-signatures, when I scanned it."

I blinked. "It's schizophrenic? Who knew?"

"No, it's something much more queer than that," Oak said, clearly thinking I was serious. "It reads like another life-signature all together, completely unlike the Fearow's in everyway."

"Human?"

"Yes and no." Oak stroked the stubbles on his chin, evidently delighted by the challenge and horrified by the case. "It reads like an energy source, with an outlet plugging into the Fearow's awareness, somehow stealing its control. Mind control-like. Suffice to say, I've never seen anything quite like this."

We reached his lab, which was lit by flickering lights from the various computer screens and the vast moonlight from the window. In the middle of the room, chained by steel manacles round the trunk of its body, on some kind of pedestal, squirming and squeaking and clawing, was the Fearow I'd caught barely twenty-four hours ago.

"I wanted to give it a sedative to calm it down, but was unsure if it would have an effect on the other party in its mind," Oak said apologetic for the treatment, not sure if it was meant for me or for the Fearow. "We'll set you free again… in spirit and body both. I promise."

Professor Samuel Oak, ladies and gents. Grand dreams gone awry, with a keen mind, loyal to a fault, a heart of gold, and a bigger backbone than you sorry bunch of dickheads will ever posses. There will never be another man quite like him, that's a fuckin' promise.

I drew my eyes to Oak's. "You sound like you have a plan," I said, furrowing my brow.

He nodded. "I do. I do."

"Well, what's the plan, then?"

Oak sighed. "In theory, and this is merely theory at the moment, I'm afraid, it should be entirely possible to create a device capable of tracking the signature of whoever is putting it out – back to the source."

"In theory?"

"Yes. For now it's but a theory," Oak said tiredly, frustrated.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I simply don't have the capability to make such a device," he said, and I could hear how much it destroyed him to admit failure. "I simply don't know where to start. I don't have the tools capable, it seems, nor do I have the skills necessary. This case is, quite frankly, beyond me."

"Well," I said, a smile blossoming on my face, "we both need some help, it seems – and I think I know just the man to help us."

Oak blinked. "Who?"

"His name's Clement," I said. "Heard of him?"

He blinked. "Of course, I'm more surprised you've heard of him, actually." Oak went to his computer and started typing in Clement's full name into the stolen database. A second later and we had the location and time of arrival if I caught the next flight. He was in Sinnoh. All ways led to Sinnoh these days, it seemed. Oak smiled. "Up for a trip to Sinnoh?"

I drew my eyes to the ceiling, penetrating it with my Aura. May and Serena were still sound asleep. If lucky, they wouldn't notice I'd been sneaking out.

"You really are spineless, you know that, Professor?"

"Rather spineless than brainless."

Couldn't argue with that.

"I'll get Charizard and Pikachu," I said, turning towards the door. "Don't wait up!"

I chuckled to myself all the way out. Sometimes I could be a funny guy, huh?

It was damn funny, man!

Crazy is what crazy does, right? Well, I must be one helluva guy, then. I took Charizard for a spin that night, flying in the shadow of the moon and distant stars twinkling with everlasting grace. Being one with the elements always made me feel… at home, like I belonged. In the face of my enemies, in the hearts of heart of my being, lives the soul of a warrior that cannot be clench. I cannot sleep, will not, and when I finally do get rest, the lasting vestiges of my sanity is in a forevermore struggle to stay in the sun.

Drew, do you know what it's like losing someone you love? No? I didn't either, not until recently. I knew what it was like losing someone I hated. And while it should feel differently, really it did not. My name is Red. Yes and no. My name begins with something simple and ends with something made of fire. Red as the color and my real name is the product.

Heh. I'm just teasing you now, aren't I? Can't help it, I fear.

Nowadays people are so vacant, right. Most people can't seem to get the point of my existents. I exist because of 'em, because I need to, because they need me to exist – because sometimes heroes needs to be whatever people's needs demands 'em to be. You forced someone pure and whole, one of the innocent men, who tried for the longest time to sleep peacefully at night, to overcome his fears and boundaries and become one of the rough men, standing up to the nightmares of past creations hence.

Someone has to fight the madness of Pokémon and fire-spitting Legends…

Sometimes I feel trapped inside my own body, you know? Sometimes I feel like there is no right and wrong, that whatever I choose will have to be a lesser of two evils, that whatever I do, however I do it, someone will always burn for my defiance. To reshape the world is to dream, to dream is to hope, to hope is to risk your sanity, to risk your sanity is to play with fire, and fire always, always fucking burn. You see? No such thing as a good outcome. There will always be something, something nagging, an afterthought, a hidden omen from the filthy clutches of darkness, and I will always be the one to try and conquer it.

Once upon a time, I fell as a hero – now I must rise as a legend.

Imagine one helluva badass soundtrack to that, man.

The clock read just about sunrise, and the neighborhood was quiet and homely. Not at all a place where you'd expect greatness to be wandering around. But that was, after all, what was wandering around here. True greatness. Clement was even younger than me, and was already one of the leading innovators of our world – I'd even heard rumors that he had a hand in the supposedly production and manufacturing of the allege Master Ball.

Lies and the Make-believe, of course, but it was a good story. Then again it wasn't a good story, of course. It was a terrible, terrible story. Master Balls could only mean the worst kind of trouble.

Anyway, I was standing before his house. His parent's house. Little boy still lived with mommy and daddy. I felt something akin to scorn at the mere thought, but I shook it off – now was not the time for petty jealousy of dreams that would never be real. And I suppose the house itself was quite lovely. I stood before a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which I could see a courtyard and a cluster of low wooden sheds, encompassing a variety of different Pokémon. The house even further into the garden was of white stone, reinforced with steel-protection, in case of an attack, of course. The sides of the roof had two bell-shaped tops made of fetid yellow glass, which could split open to reveal some highly intricate weaponry, no doubt.

As I said, it looked quite lovely.

But clearly something was very, very wrong. There were no life-signatures within the house, and here and there – one of the sheds had fallen to pieces of thatched wood – you could see the signs of a struggle, and the dark black car tracks coming from the garage spoke of a hurried escape. A burglar gone wrong, it seemed, except that something as simple as a burglar would never have got passed the state-of-the-art defense measures that this house was bursting with.

"Oak, something's gone wrong here," I said, my voice almost as robotic as the suit's own, into the comm-link. "No sign of Clement and his parents. How do we proceed?"

"With caution, of course," he said like it was obvious. "The electricity seems gone, too."

"So you want me to be a burglar now?" I asked. "And why exactly didn't you back up Serena before? You know, back with May."

"Because May was right, as well, Ash." He sighed. "We're playing with powers beyond our mere understanding. We've no idea what this will do to you – what that horrible suit even is."

"Yet you keep supporting me," I replied, furrowing my brow, fairly confused. "Why?"

"Because no matter what I say or do, you'll continue to do as you want – I could fight against your will, another struggle in your life that you really don't need, or I could support you and guide you and try to keep your sanity together, and that is more important. I've lost most, if not all, of my family members. Sons and grandsons… my wife… I don't want to lose you, too."

"Well." I blinked. "Samuel, I… I don't know what to say."

"There is nothing to say," he told me. "We have a job to do, and clearly we have to do it fast before someone, who's obviously persistent, is getting Clement away to places we cannot attempt to find."

"Right." I pushed gently on the wooden gate and it fell off its hinges, already taken quite a beating, it seemed. The courtyard was beautiful, and the long meadow of grass danced in the gentle breeze of a good and apparently terrible morning indeed. There were still traces of cool morning mist on the greenery from the cold night, but already the first rays of sunlight was doing its deeds. "Here's really fuckin' beautiful, huh?"

"Oh, Ash," Oak said with a sigh that suggested misery. "Why do you have to swear all the time? And to a view like this, too."

"Crazy is what crazy does, Professor." My dastardly smile went unseen beneath my helmet. "And I'm as crazy as they come, aren't I?"

"We both are, I think."

Amen to that, I thought, taking the pathway leading up to the front door. Pokémon from beneath the shelter of the sheds scowled at me like I was an unwelcomed guest. Yet they stayed clear away from me, not braving any struggle with the grey monster at their front door, and I could walk onwards unchallenged. Pikachu, who for now had been creeping quietly beside me, jumped onto my shoulder and peered attentively round as I stopped in front of the door.

"Ready, buddy?" I asked, and it chittered its response quietly, a pitch of static upon its yellow fur. "Great – let's do this."

The suit was at work scanning and hacking the interface of the house, but it wasn't necessary, it seemed, because someone had hacked and closed it down already. And I could simple open the doors and step in. I raised my hands, ethereal lights smoking from my palms, and stepped over the threshold and into the darkness. The light of my hand illuminated the room, though, spilling shadows over the place.

A scene of destruction met my eyes. Almost at my feet, a splintered chandelier had fallen to the floor, purple broken glass scattered like dust on the floor from the once supposedly beautiful creation. A chest of drawers had been tilted over, its wooden surface scorched black, with ash lying round it, and had seemingly been used as a makeshift cover from whatever – most likely something with fire in its heart – that had attacked 'em. Cushions lay deflated, feathers spilling out, by the ruined pairs of sofas. The wreckage seemed to have taken the brunt of the flames, some of it still smoked with black fog. Powerful Pokémon had been part of this, no doubt.

A quick intake of breath told me that Oak was getting it all live and from the source. "Oh my…"

"Yeah." I smiled, an insane giggle threatening to escape my lips. This turned out to be more exciting than I thought it would. "Definitely something wrong."

"Ash." Oak scowled. "Now is not the time for enjoyment."

"Sorry," I said, without meaning it, though I did get my more animalistic urges under control again. "Make a forensic scan, you suppose?"

"As good a place to start as any."

The suit read my mind, it seemed, or took my words as a command perhaps, because my vision turned blue, not by my Aura, and started uploading images of the ruins around me to the mainframe. It focused on some of the things touched by humans, zooming in on the fingerprints.

"Okay," Oak said, typing away and handling the data. "I've got some fingerprints here, running them through the database as we speak…"

"Tell me the results," I said, stepping further into the room and making the dust of broken glass crunch beneath my weight like old bread. "Perhaps the identities of our burglar can shed some light on this."

"Burglars," he corrected me. "I'm getting multiple fingerprints here – beyond those of the family."

"More the merrier, I guess." More faces to fuck-up. "Let me know."

I stepped on something small, whole, and square, the framing around the thing splinting under my food. I looked down and crunched low, picking up the object. It was a photo. A family photo, it seemed, of Clement and his mother and father. They looked so happy, yes, they did. Clement was the typical child of wonder: skinny, pale like he'd never stepped out of the door and set sight upon the sun, and with bright blond hair and dull blue intelligent eyes. Such marvelous intellect in those beady little eyes, right? You ever met Clement, have you? Arrogant little fuck, he is, but with a heart in the right place, when it counts.

Anyway, his father was nothing like Clement, and I wondered if perhaps the mother had been playing the field a little too much when she got the preggers. But then again, who was I to judge. Clement's father was a huge man, by the looks of the picture, with thick black hair, and great arms and legs with knotted muscles. His eyes were the color of deep amber, resembling mine so much it almost felt wrong, somehow, and if I didn't know better – and thank the Masters Above I did know better – I would have said I was looking at my long-lost father.

I tore my eyes away from the man and looked at the only female on the picture. Wait! I tore my eyes away from the man and looked at the only woman in the picture. Female sounds so impersonal and ceremonious-like, doesn't it? So inhuman and robotic…

Enough with the trailing off already! I looked at the woman in the picture and, thank the Masters Above and Beyond, found her hot. She must have been in her late thirties, though she didn't look it, and was, if not an exact resemblance of her son, then at least close enough so that you could see that's where he came from, you know. She had long blonde tresses, with nay a curl or imperfection. Her grey-blue eyes were smoldering, like she was flirting with the cameraman, or something, and she had this pure and honest smile about her face, a smile you could fall in love with, a smile you could burn the whole damn world for.

But – even if I, in all my cynicism, questioned the validation of the father – I had to admit that they looked happy, that they looked like a family, prosperous and peaceful… together. The mother was so obviously in love with the man that I found myself convinced I was wrong 'bout my assumptions before. The son looked whole and pure, a keen but innocent soul. Was I to drag something so precious as that into a war against madness? Did I have the right to do so? And even if I hadn't found Clement yet, and even if he looked like a snotty, spoiled brat, he would still accept my offer of adventure and dangers. It's all in the eyes, you see, the eyes reveal something which mouth and actions usually does not. In this case it revealed a thirst for the unknown, of braving dangers and discover things yet to be explored.

It revealed ambitions. Nothing stronger than grand ambitions, nothing more fragile than said ambitions gone awry and twisted.

A picture says more than a thousand words.

"Getting anything?" I asked, throwing the photo away in disgust and indecisions. I'm trippin' off the power, man, just trippin' it all off. "What to do, what to do?" I muttered, throwing a searching look round the room. My hands twitched and itched, wanting necks to snap and spines to break. Heh, you could say I was in my period. Ha!

"Got it," Oak exclaimed, voice filled with triumph. "Tim Furton and Jack Berg, supposedly members of something called Team Galactic, a smalltime crime organization kept under watch by the police and League of Sinnoh."

"Why's it not taken out already?" I growled.

"They hope their surveillance can lead them to bigger fish," Oak replied, obviously in the process of reading through Team Galactic's history. "So far no luck, though."

"Team Rocket," I breathed, "Giovanni…"

"Among others, yes." Oak did something on his end and a window, displaying two addresses, popped up in the side of my visor. "That's so cool!" he whispered excitedly, before gaining his bearings again. "Ah, it's two addresses, the last known, of where Mr. Furton and Mr. Berg is living. Perhaps they've taken them to one of their apartments."

"Doubt it, but they sure as hell knows where they dumped 'em!"

I stood in the ruins of the work of indecisive, weak-willed politicians and League Officials not worthy of their jobs. Like they'd ever get any of the big fish, much less Giovanni, by keeping taps on these fuckers. If they'd just done their job and put down the mad dog before it caused trouble, then I would be on my way back to Pallet Town with Clement by now – just in time to intercept May and Serena before they awoke.

Oh well.

"Furton is closest, Ash," Oak said. "He lives in Jubilife City. In the Narrows. Approximately one hour away by Charizard."

"Okay."

I snapped my fingers and a blue flame ignited on my thumb, my intent the only thing protecting my skin from bursting into flames, as well. I gave it air and life, I gave it power and growth, and then, when I found it big and worthy, almost the size of my head, I guided it with my intent into the cracked chandelier resting before me. It burst into flames immediately, expanding with an otherworldly vigor, and soon the whole damn floor was trippin' and on fire. And I turned away, leaving the house before the fire would attract commotion.

The next day the world would mourn the loss of one of their young and brightest, burned to crisp by an inexplicably, everlasting flame that water didn't seem able to tame and only stopped suddenly – never spreading away from the house – like it was the controlled work of Arceus itself.

I needed Clement, and it looked like others did, as well.

A race was on, and I was already behind.

And I couldn't help but laugh, because this was turning out to be so much fun!

During my journeys, during my search into the world I call home, I discovered purpose and enlightening. I found peace within my hearts of heart; I made peace with the nature of my madness. Some days I'd be like the monsters in our world, fierce and unrelenting, some days I'd want for home, crave great, voluptuous curves and graceful angles, but most days I'd just be the little boy – still scared and scarred by the unknown.

It was frightening. It was I. It was the choice between fight or die, between living or dying. I'd rather die on the fields of war, fighting to my last breath, than spending the rest of my life as a slave under the rule of some mad man.

So I chose the unknown, I chose death, because nothing could be worse than living with the guilt of raw memory.

And yes. I'd find it perfectly adequate if you'd go ahead and kneel before me.

I found my target easily enough. Oak sent me a picture of Tim Furton on the way over. A man of little means and little wants. He'd practically been forced into the work he had. Not enough money for an education, never any father or mother figure to speak of, it seemed; he'd always been alone. Sometimes it's easier to escape into a life of crime than taking the path of righteousness, when nobody stretched a hand out to help guiding you. It didn't, however, mean I was gonna have mercy on the fucker – not by a long shot – he had, after all, fucked-up my day. And one of the things he'd fucked-up was talking to me now.

"I can't believe you'd just ignore what I told you," May said crossly over the comm-link. Yeah, my plan to get back and intercept her didn't pan out as planned. "I thought you'd at least consider your actions before donning that – that thing again."

"I did consider it, May," I whispered, tracking my victim-to-be closely from the rooftop above him. He was walking on his way back to the Narrows, it seemed. Back home. "It was the Professor! It was his idea, I swear."

"No!" Oak said hurriedly "It's just that, May, that…"

"I thought you agreed with me," May said to Oak, sounding almost hurt. "Even now you don't seem to be happy about it."

"I do agree with you," he said softly. "But this is bigger than all of us – even Ash. You're right it's a huge risk, you're right that we shouldn't, by all that is good and just, approve of what we're doing here. And yes, I hate it just as much as you do. Probably even more so. But Serena is right, as well, Ash did inspire a lot of people in Saffron to fight back. Most of these people wouldn't have fought if someone like Ash hadn't been there. Ash might risk his soul for this, might risk everything that makes him who he is, but it is a sacrifice he must make. He's the only one that can."

"Again are times really that desperate?" May asked, clinging to her hope. "I admit things looked pretty terrible last night, but that doesn't mean it will continue, does it?"

"Ash told us he had seen it before, right, Ash?" Serena said to me over the comm. "You think it will come back, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, "someone is controlling the Pokémon, making them do the things they did last night. And it seems whoever is doing it is growing stronger."

"How can you tell?" Serena asked.

"Have you met this person?" May said.

"No – I don't know who we're up against," I said, shaking my head. "But I've fought these armies of controlled beasts before – only twice – and back then the Pokémon he, or she, controlled weren't nearly as strong as the ones attacking Saffron City. I think he's growing more powerful, and therefore able to control more powerful Pokémon."

"But why is it up to you to stop him?" May asked. "You're not – you are Ash Ketchum."

"Thanks – I almost forgot that," I said, laced with sarcasm, though not unkindly.

May ignored me, however. "You've been through enough already, Ash, done enough… let someone else take the mantle. Let someone else be the hero."

"I left, May, so that I could fight men like whoever is controlling the Pokémon – men like Giovanni. I am not gonna stop, when the game has just begun. My journey has to be good for something." I frowned, Riley died believing in me. He deserved I gave this my all. "And even if I wanted to stop, there is no one like me, no one capable of the feats I am."

"This isn't a game!" May snarled, fierce and unwavering.

"I know – figuratively speaking, is all." I jumped down the ledge, landing ten meters below on the roof of another building. I took another leap over the edge of this building, dancing through the air, and landed on the roof of a third building directly above Furton. May and Serena both sucked in a breath as I did my acrobatics on the skyscrapers of Jubilife City, clearly getting live-feeds with Oak from my visor-output. "But drastic times calls for drastic measures. The world might deserve better, but for now it will have to make due with me."

Distraught apparent in her voice, May spoke, "What happens when you come up against something stronger than you? What happens then?"

"I'll have my Pokémon by my side," I said, trying to make my voice light and friendly, though I tire of conversations as these. "Speaking of which, we need to ask Clement to install someway for me to carry my Poké Balls in this thing without it absorbing them, Professor. I can't access Charizard's Poké Ball no matter what I tell it to do! Write it on my list, if you please!"

I could, of course, keep the dragon out of its Ball whenever I had to use it. But in a city such as Jubilife City, though not as great and big as Saffron, folks and fellas would take notice of such an enormous beast pretty fuckin' quickly.

"Written down for your viewing pleasure, Master Ketchum," Oak said sarcastically. "Anything else I should do while here?"

"Some quiet would be marvelous right about… now." My victim-to-be had just turned in on one of the narrow side-alleys leading down to the Narrows below the wealthier neighborhood. And I jumped down from the roof, swooping between the sides of two skyscrapers. I landed in a crouched position, the frighten gasps of May and Serena buzzing in my ears (Oak had become too used to my antics after Saffron to gasp). I sent a pulse of Aura into the back of Furton before he could turn to the source of the sudden noise. It struck true and he fell with a pained gasp to his knees. I blurred into motions, as I'm wont to do, and scooped his limp body under my arm. Jumping and climbing, I started scaling ledges and the sides of the skyscrapers in a fashion that would make any Parkour-practitioner green with envy.

Ten seconds after I jumped, I was back on the roof again, with my victim, now unconscious, in my grasp.

"Easy, Ash," Oak said lowly, trying for some sensitivity. "We need him."

"He's just half-conscious," I said, shaking him by the shoulders, his head dangled from shoulder to shoulder, and mouth half-agape. "I gave him a small dose, a sedative you can call it – keeps things simple, you know."

He groaned and blinked his eyes, then immediately squeaked like a pig and tried to get away once he saw just who had tackled him; he struggled, he slapped at my face and chest, and he even tried to kick me in the nuts. "You're him! You're the fiend from Saffron! The guy everyone's been talking about! Look, I didn't do anything, man! I'M INNOCENT!"

"Scream to your voice's hoarse, baby." I chuckled a rough laugh. "Nobody's gonna hear you. You're mine!"

"I'm telling you, man, I didn't do shit!"

"Where is Clement?"

He blinked, trying, and doing a mighty fine job of it, to play confused. "Who the fuck are you talking about?"

"TELL ME WHERE CLEMENT IS!" I yelled. "I know it was you!"

"I swear I don't-"

I roared in primal rage, all part of the gig, man. My hand clenching round his neck, and pulled him harshly out over the edge of the roof and held him, my arm stretched and muscles bulging, out dangling for the entire world to see. "Tell me where you dropped 'em, or I'm dropping you!"

"I don't know, I swear!" His hands whacked piteously at my fist holding him. "PLEASE, LET ME GO!"

"As you wish," I said, pretending to let go of him. He gave a small shriek of fright before I caught him again.

"NO! NO! NO!"

"Tell me!" I snarled.

"They'll kill me if I do! Cyrus is going to kill me! I'm not telling you anything!"

"You're of no use to me, then," I said and almost let him fly right then and there.

And then he began to laugh. A desperate, shrilly laugh that spoke of derangement lurking round the corner. "You're not going to kill me," he suddenly said, laughing, just kept laughing his head off, man. "You're bluffing!"

I breathed hard, my min ablaze with hatred. May, Serena and the Professor were oddly quite on the other end. Maybe there were frozen silent, staring with abject horror as I played executioner, or maybe the suit had frozen the comm-link because it didn't want any interference, when I interrogated Mr. Furton. And maybe it was high time I started using my brains again, because something had just occurred to me.

"You're right," I said slowly, still holding him effortlessly at arms length. "You still have some use left, I suppose."

He laughed his mad laugh again. "I knew! I knew you wouldn't have the balls, man! You're just a pussy like all those wannabe Champions and Gym Leaders, aren't you?" His eyes were burning with fierce believe and frenzied devotion. Was that how May interpreted the look in my eyes, the fire in my great red eye? "You're never going to get anything done here – not in this world! This world only one thing speaks, man! Power! And the believe to back it up!"

"That's two. And shut up, would you?" I smacked him across the face, and he stopped squirming all together, going completely limp in my hand. Unconscious. "Oak?" I waited. Nothing. "Let me talk to him, you stupid piece of shit!"

The comm-link appeared in the right upper-corner of my visor. And I could see the faces of Oak, May and Serena again. And they were horrified, pale and shaky, wide-eyed with fear of my sanity, no doubt. And I was too pumped and excited to give a flying fuck. "Professor, where does Jack Berg live?"

"I… well…" he coughed. "Well, I'm not sure I should tell you…"

"Come again?" I snarled, breathing hard still.

"I, well, you must admit…" he began; but I interrupted him.

"I don't need your flawed morality right now," I snarled. "If you can't take it, then you can look away! Sent me the address."

"Ash, consider this, please," Serena said, she was pale and lovely and afraid.

"We need Clement, guys," I said, forcing myself to calm down somewhat. "He's the key to finding whoever is behind all this! Without him we can't find the one responsible, the one controlling the Pokémon! We need him! Give me the address. Now."

They gave me the address. He was in Sunnyshore City. I threw Mr. Furton on my shoulder, uncoiled the suit temporarily from my skin, and released Charizard before recoiling my suit. I had a couple of hours of flight ahead of me.

Rough men doing rough deeds, huh? You know; as I've said before, don't ever confuse me with one of the good guys. I was ready to unleash whirlwinds of tempestuous inferno against the tides of condemning men and women round me, ready to let one simple fucker drop down to certain death if it meant making a fuckin' difference.

May and Serena – still not telling you anything, right? – were perhaps left in fear and horror in the face of my immoral actions. But they have come to understand me and my actions, as you are slowly, as well. They know that my endeavors are indeed a necessity.

So… doing the whole predator-mode once again. I found my victim-to-be's apartment. He was at home luckily. I took him out before he knew I was there with a well-placed sphere of Aura. And then I brought them both up to the roof. Pikachu was there waiting, keeping watch for me. The sun scorched the skyline in an orange glow, setting slowly behind the cover of the skyscrapers of Sunnyshore City. I dropped them unceremoniously on the floor and kicked 'em lightly till they woke.

"Tonight you're going to be part in a little game of mine," I said, when they finally started to show tears of life. Oak and May and Serena kept there silence for now, though I could still hear their quiet intakes of breath as they waited for what I was going to do next. For now the suit saw no reason the block the feed, it seemed. "It's called talk or die – I know, I know, not very original, hmm, but that's what it is – the rules are simple. I ask a question, you give an answer. Wrong answer, you fall down. Right answer, you live. Understandable?" I nodded like I was talking to a pair of small kids. "Good."

"Fuck you!" Furton groaned, though, and tried to gain his feet. "He's bluffing, Berg. He won't do shit!" He threw his head back and laughed deliriously like the Joker. "He's just trying to scare you, man!"

My fist collided harshly with Furton's cheek, the slap resonating in the chilly air of the late afternoon, and he was cowed into silence. Then I grabbed him by the hairs of his neck and dragged him to the edge like I had earlier. A silent, unoccupied alley met our eyes – one I'd chosen purposely to keep what I was about to do away from innocent eyes – but it didn't seem to scare Furton any. No matter. It wasn't to scare him, anyway.

"Are you going to tell me where you dropped Clement off?" I asked, low and intimidating.

"Ash…" I heard Oak's voice over the comm. May and Serena's breathing were labored, but they kept their silence this time. "Please, think this through, son. Death can't be taken back."

Furton shook his head, a shit-eating grin upon his filthy face. "You're bluffing, man!"

"So be it." I released him. And I only had less than a second, only the moment between releasing my grip and gravity taking its hold, the moment between moments, between life and death, between meaning something and never-ending misery, to take in and enjoy the look of sheer surprise and fear upon his goddamn conceited face. And enjoy it I fucking did, man! He went down screaming for help, screaming for mercy, but without getting any.

I turned away before he hit the ground, more for May and Serena's sake. They would be anything but happy to see me once I returned, I was sure. And then the screams stopped suddenly, sharply followed by a crack, as bones snapped to pieces, when Furton hit the ground.

I looked upon the shivering mess that was Berg, trying to find enough strength to crawl away from me. I grabbed him by the hairs of his neck and pulled him to my face. "Speak!"

He crooned like a fuckin' bird, Drew.

I dropped Jack Berg off at the local police station after getting what I needed, jut threw the unconscious body in front of the station. Then they could do what they wanted with the man. And then I took off back to where I came from. Jubilife City. Apparently they'd placed Clement and his father and mother in an old warehouse just at the edge of the city. And it turned out that Jack Berg hadn't been as crazy as his partner, and actually told me the truth. That was pretty lucky, I suppose. Woulda been quite the mess if I had to break into the police station to get to him again.

The warehouse was a ramshackle place, really, just on the edge between the small forest leading up to Jubilife and the city itself. It looked more like a garage, old and mattered, with a steel gate punctuated here and there like someone had brought a wrecking ball through the place. It was pitch black round me, the light of the crescent moon spilling insubstantial shadows beneath the trees, which swayed gently in the wind.

An eerie stillness rested upon the place.

I grabbed the steel gate and shredded it to pieces with my hands, great tearing sounds echoing seemingly forever in the dark. Within the place, almost stacked together in chains against the far-off wall, with small plates of food and goblets of water close by them, were Clement and his parents.

"I've got 'em." I took a step into the room. Charizard breathed a torrent of flames outside, behind me, and settled down by the door, keeping a tight lookout for our dark surroundings. "All accounted for."

"Good," Oak said tightly. We hadn't spoken much since I left Sunnyshore City behind. "Bring them back as fast as possible."

"Is that a robot?" Clement's voice echoed back to me. "But it looks so human!"

"I am no robot," I said, crouching down beside him and ripping the chains off. "We need to get going. By the look of it, it seems whoever caught you want you alive, and my day has been far too long already."

"Who are you?" he asked. "What are you? Human?"

"That's of no importance right now, and I am indeed human," I replied, freeing the father and the mother; they both looked gaunt and mangled, too fucked-up to even care who was saving them. They'd survive, however, because that's what you do, isn't it? Whenever life decides it wants to play, I mean. "We need too get outta here before, ah, Team Galactic gets here – thanks Professor."

The father furrowed his brow, apparently not too fucked to be distrustful of me. "Professor? I'm no professor. Though, I'd like to know how you found us."

"And I'd like to know how to access my stupid Poké Balls in this thing," I groaned, patting my sides searchingly. "But sometimes we just don't get what we want, eh? Not something you guys are used to, I'm sure."

"Forgive me, sir, but you look…" Clement trailed off, wonder in his eyes. Oh boy, a fan. Already? "I've never seen an exoskeleton so alive-like."

My frown went unseen by them. "Exo-what-skeleton?" This guy had just been held hostage and now he was jizzing his pants because of some robot-like suit-clad stranger. Kids these days, man. "Look, this is all dandy and nice, but I really need to take you back. Where do you live? No. Don't answer that. I already know – oh, by the way, I burned your house down this – last – no, this… oh, whatever! Some morning. Didn't think you were gonna need it again, considering, well, you know, those Galactic fellas. Just thought you should know, is all. Heh… just making conversation, buddy, just making conversation. Now, get the fuck up on that dragon, bitches!"

It's the suit talking, Drew, not me.

I am not that crazy.

Am I?

Don't answer that.

And back to the base we went, flying on the wings of my great dragon of old, with the wind in our hairs and the moonlight spilling down on our necks. Distant stars twinkled like a pathway that led the way back to my home. My companions of the night and flight were uneasily resting behind me, one scared out of her mind by the happenings of the last two days (the time they'd been in captivity, I gathered), another silently marveling, and more-than-a-little scared, of the scaly beast with fire in its heart. And then there was Clement. He sat directly behind me, ignoring the wondrous sight of a silent world marching past our eyes below and distant planets and suns above in favor of probing and close-studying me and my suit.

Most of the flight I felt more than a little tempted to just throw him off the deck, man, but I feared his parents wouldn't take it so well. And I had kinda gone through a pretty fuckin' long day and night to see him to safety. So I exercised self-control and kept him onboard.

They asked questions, of course. They asked all sorts of good and inquisitive questions. I didn't give any answers, though, and really they would know everything soon enough anyway. I did tell them one thing, though.

They call me Red.

I lounged them in, when we got back to Pallet Town, didn't really give Oak much of a choice. Clement's parent's settled into the second guest-room and Clement got the third and smaller one. After a quick dinner consisting of mostly bread and milk and pork, the parents went to bed, minds probably buzzing with what I'd told them. And I'd told them it all, man; I'd revealed my identity. I'd told them of the real state of things in our relatively fucked up world. I'd told them of how the Pokémon's behavior came to be, or what I knew of it, at least. I told them of the Professor and his part, a not so small part, I might add. And I told them, sparingly, about May and Serena. Some of it seemed to sink in; most of it seemed to fly over their heads, though.

No matter.

May and Serena were busying themselves with things mostly unknown to me while I explained things for our new allies-to-be. They were waiting to get me alone, no doubt. Maybe even considering of leaving all together. It would be the sensible thing to do, after all. I was not the great kid they once knew and loved. It made me feel sad and lonely that they had to see what I'd become, see all the gritty details of this new monster I was slowly getting dragged into. But I couldn't have kept lying to them, it wouldn't have felt right. They deserved more than that.

Anyway, after a time, spent mostly in silent drinking and eating, and with the parents gone to bed, secure in the knowledge that the great Samuel Oak at least was there to protect them, Clement and I was left to our own device.

"So you say you found that exoskeleton?" Clement was saying skeptically. "In the Tree of Beginning."

"Yup." I nodded. "On a pedestal of all things. It was fate, it seemed."

"I don't believe in destiny," Clement replied lowly, frowning. The awestruck looked had worn off his face as he got down and talked to me face to face. Got a real look of the real man beneath the mask. "Only a fool would believe in anything so fickle."

I shrugged, not disagreeing, or at least not entirely. "Perhaps – to some people it gives hope, though. It can give them a reason to keep fighting."

"Fight because others do?" Clement said, tasting the words and finding them distasteful. "Not my kind of thing, I'm afraid. Is that why you brought me here? To help you built more of that thing?"

I hadn't really thought of that. Yet I also doubted it was reproducible. The Suit of Aura was a one kinda thing. I think. Not something for mass production. "Not exactly what I had in mind, no," I said, shaking my head. "But I do want your head, I want to employ your engineering intellect to save the world from a war that's about to blossom fully into a shitstorm of catastrophe."

Clement narrowed his eyes behind his slightly askew and dented glasses, furrowing a bushy eyebrow. "And you think I will be of any help in this matter?"

"I do." I dipped my head to the side, studying his face from across the table. "You might be just the person this group needs to form the perfect team."

Clement looked away from my burning gaze, seeking time to think of an answer by looking round the kitchen absentmindedly. "You burned my house," he finally said. "And then you expect me to work with you, hmm?"

"Well, you would never be able to use that house again, would you?"

"Not now, no."

"Oh, come now, use your brains, man. They'd never let you live there in peace, whoever was after you."

"Team Galactic," he said.

"Stupid-ass name," I muttered. "This is your chance to use that brain for something right, however, to reshape the world to a better."

"Reshape the world, you say," Clemont said, tilting his head, with something akin to scorn on his face. "I've heard those words before, quite recently, I'm afraid. Cyrus, the leader of Team Galactic, once said almost the same exact thing, when he approached me with another project that was gonna change the world for the better."

I'd never heard of anything called Team Galactic until today, and still thought it sounded mighty stupid and wacky, but maybe there was more to them than met the eye. It's usually like that, isn't it? "I'm not here to seek that which will bestow upon me the right to rule or anything, I'm only seeking an end to a war that's about to become reality – and wraith havoc on a lot of innocent people."

"Sounds like you're seeking gibberish," he said bluntly. "And trying to impress me with glorious words."

"Someone is controlling the Pokémon," I said, ignoring his sarcasm. "Making them act like they did back in Saffron – wait. You didn't see Saffron, did you?"

"We heard some of the guards talk about it, whenever they brought us food." Clement looked to be thinking back, tapping his chin. "I suppose that was you fighting for the city? Of course it was."

I nodded. "There will be more attack like that, even more devastating, no doubt, and only we know how to stop it. But I need your help."

"What do you need me for?" he asked. "I'm no warrior, as you undoubtedly know. What can I possible help you with?"

"Someone is, as I've said, controlling the Pokémon, broadcasting some sort of energy-signature in the process. I need you to create a device capable of tracking it down." I drew a pale hand through my untidy and filthy black hair. It had been a long day in the suit, and my body odor was not a welcoming one. I longed for a bath, and I longed for sleep in my eyes, and really I should stop dwelling on things there would never be. "Once whoever's behind this has been put down, you can do whatever you want."

"You make it sound like I don't have a choice," Clement noted dryly.

I shrugged again. "I already know of your answer, my friend. You see, you might be able to hide the excitement in your voice, or the giddiness in your body language – even though it seems clear as day to me – but your eyes, man, your eyes speaks of adventure."

He furrowed his brow again, clearly not liking the truth in my words. "So my answer was predetermined before you saved me?"

I smiled one of my bastardly smiles. "It's destiny, and she's most definitely a bitch."

Done again. Hopefully you liked it. And thank you to those who've read and favored and reviewed. Without you guys this wouldn't be half as fun. You're awesome. I'm sorry I can't promise more regular updates than this, but that's just how life is at the moment. Keeping me busy. Until next time!

-Stjernefald