TWO YEARS AFTER THE REVIVAL OF DEOXYS
The tall, green-haired man sifted through the knee-high wild grass. He scratched his face beneath the patch covering his right eye.
"Sir," a scrawny scientist in camouflage said. "I think it might be time to give up the search. There is no sign of him, sir. He won't be alive after all this time."
"No," the man with one arm replied, whacking the scientist across the shins with his metallic walking cane. "Must I tell you each day? We will search until we find that child, dead or alive. And I assure you, we will find him alive."
Thirty others participated in the search effort. They looked for another half hour, at which time the sun passed beneath the line of the bridge reaching away to the big city at the end of the horizon.
As they began to clear out for the night, something rustled in a bush behind the green-haired man and the scientist. A family of Darmanitan shivered in the bushes, startled by the search party passing through the woods that were normally devoid of people.
"Look at the way they're stood in a ring," the scientist said. "Darmanitan don't usually coordinate shapes. They typically just huddle together, or they spread out to scavenge."
The other man didn't speak. He came up towards the group and looked in the center of their ring. A small mass clutched one of the Darmanitan's legs. The man swung his cane through the group, dispersing them.
"I'll be," the scientist said at the discovery. A human infant, hardly old enough to stand, was curled up naked on the ground, peering in confusion at the two men. The rest of the search party started to cheer as word got around of the find.
The green-haired man lifted the child.
"You," he said. "You have been a waste of valuable resources. Of precious time. You are a waste of a human being."
He paused.
"But you are my key to power."
"What will we call the boy, sir?" the scientist asked.
"Look at him. His hair is matted. His body is tanned. He doesn't belong in a beautiful home like that which we will provide. He belongs out here, in this filth. In nature."
Holding the child beneath the arms, straight out in front of him, the green-haired man hesitated.
"Are you suggesting we don't name him, sir?" the scientist asked.
"Natural," the other continued at last. "Natural Harmonia Gropius."
Be sure to read the upcoming Wally's Legacy. Details on my profile.