The Enigma Chronicles: Echoes

by Rocketlord6485

An origin story that explores Metsuma Rocket's rise to power and the secrets that surround his life. Set within the Giovanni Chronicles continuity, this dark and elaborate tale of a young sociopath trying to juggle two very different worlds is full of mystery and intrigue. Rated M for language, violence, mild drug abuse, and some sexual situations. [CURRENTLY ON HIATUS]

14. Method to Madness

The Enigma Chronicles - Echoes

Chapter 14: Method to Madness

It wasn't long before I was made aware of Cayman's extended absence. He'd failed to report back from his mission in Veilstone following the mining riot in Oreburgh, so now I had to send Viper back to Sinnoh to retrieve that harebrained boy of mine before Anna could get to him, assuming she hadn't already. That nagging possibility only bothered me further. Honestly, what was so hard about stealing police evidence? I'd given him much harder tasks than that over the course of his apprenticeship.

"I should have traveled alongside him, kept him under my watch," I mumbled quietly to myself, puttering in circles around my desk. "If Viper fails and Cayman is captured, I'll just have to take it upon myself to throw a wrench in Anna's investigation." Hearing my own threatening words pass through my ears, I stopped cold and smiled shrewdly, then looked towards my desk. "... because no matter what Anna does, I'll always be one step ahead of her. She can play any cards she likes... but as long as I have a full deck, the game won't stop with Cayman's arrest."

I circled around my desk a final time and plopped into my seat. With my thoughts sharpened and my ambitions clearer than daylight, I began jotting my message onto the sheet of lined paper set on my desk, sparing no slander. I was consumed in that moment, the pen grasped in my vice scribbling in motions like that of a madman, yet it was all too perfect... because that's all the Soul Robber was to Anna's people: a madman. Nothing more, nothing less.

Once finished with my fun and games, I stuffed the note into an envelope, sealed it, then whistled for Gengar to come hither. The only way to pull this off anonymously was to have my ghostly laborer deliver the message with its subtle guile. Only then would Anna be thrown off the scent again and look in another direction for her perp, giving Cayman the liberty to sneak out of Veilstone unchecked and return home safely. Bulletproof.

I looked up from my lap once Gengar emerged from the shadowed corner of the office. "Here, I have a special task for you," I beckoned the Pokémon nearer, leaning across my desk to hand over the envelope. "See to it that this manifesto reaches the Veilstone Police Department immediately. It's sure to get Anna's attention." I exchanged grimly smiles with the ghoul and added, "Don't let anyone spot you, understand?"

As if relishing my final caution, Gengar snatched the envelope and turned invisible at will, vanishing into the wall behind me. Only the echo of its delectably rotten laughter lingered in my company.

Before I could take a pause to meditate, much less deliberate, Kade burst through the double doors of my office, throwing me a woeful glare from across the room. "Daken wishes to see us in the boardroom," he croaked at me with unnecessary hand gestures, flamboyant as always. "He says he has an important assignment for us... and I can't say I'm too thrilled about the 'us' part."

I canted back into the cushion of my seat, chawing over my new agenda; I needed this distraction, a challenge from the fat man upstairs. "Let's just hope whatever assignment he has in store for us isn't any worse than our brush with Miles."

…...

Kemnon Tower, Tatto's largest Agrarian Seer repository, housed an expansive archive of knowledge, complete with study centers and a detainment level for offenders of the Fellowship's laws and customs. Each chamber was strewn with bookshelf walls, each statue carved from the Tree of Beginning's loveliest ivory. The overall semblance was like a temple crafted exclusively from nature and knowledge.

Eden lowered her hood as she walked these lustrously sleek floors, observing her friendly surroundings. At every corner, she was met with dazed looks. Seers, young and old, dropped to their knees and bowed, humbled. Through their eyes, it was certainly a scene to behold; the resurrected heir of the Fabula fortune roaming the foyers like a ghost in the night.

She wasn't concerned with their collective surprise, however. She knew that none of them would utter a word to the outside world, out of respect of the Fellowship's privacy. Her survival of the Cosma Point fallout couldn't be made public. She needed the Nightfall Collective to think she was dead or else Metsuma Rocket would be looking over his shoulder at all times.

After climbing her way to the top of the tower, Eden made her way carefully down two more corridors before she finally located the main sanctuary, a worship ground where a large gathering of Seers loitered, many of them either deep in thought or prayer. She recognized these savants as the same team that had recovered her body from the ruins of Cosma's capital building. Indeed, she owed these people her life and her sincere thanks.

But before she could call for their attention, she felt something move behind her and swiveled on her heel. "Virizion?", she whispered, cocking her head at the Pokémon. "How did you find me?"

The colorful doe emerged from the shadows ever so silently, ignoring the question. "I've arranged for a special gathering." It spoke in its soft and effeminate growl, like that of a raw wind. "The other Swords of Justice have agreed to hear your plea. If we are to leave for Unova, the time is now."

A content smile settled on Eden's lips. She gave a courteous bow to the Grassland Pokémon for its cooperation. "Thank you, Virizion," she murmured, earning a cold nod from the creature—not so unusual for a Pokémon that rarely ever trusted humans. "But before we go, please allow me a moment to bid adieu to my elders."

The fallow deer nodded a second time, then stepped back into the shadows to wait patiently for her.

As Eden turned from the door and stepped up to the alter, the eldest sage took prompt notice of her presence and cleared his throat in such a way that he nearly choked on his words. "Lady Eden, thank goodness you've returned!" He rushed down the aisle to greet the young Fabula, immediately joined by the others. "We didn't know when to expect you, madame."

Eden folded her hands together and smiled. "The time has come for me to move on," she explained right away, not wasting their time with wanton pleasantries. "I am most grateful for the Fellowship's hospitality. In fact, if you hadn't restored me from that wreckage in Cosma Point, all hope would be lost for Team Righteous."

The headmaster returned the smile, touched by her thanks. "We pray you'll make different choices than your mother, Lady Eden," he sniffled, biting his lip. "It may not be my place to say... but she has shamed the very fabric of our society. And as long as the outside world continues to pester us with needless questions, we cannot hope to forget this disaster."

She sighed, feeling the blood pounding in her temples. She knew exactly what he was alluding to. "That Special Agent from the International Police was here, was he?"

He took her by the shoulders, hoping to ease her tensions. "Do not worry, Lady Eden. I didn't speak a word of you, nor of the Soul Robber's crime spree. I gave him just enough information to send him on his way."

The young Fabula released a weighty breath, both relieved and grateful. "Good. I fear the police will only complicate matters." She leaned against the alter, nearly collapsing against it, as guilt, fear and frustration flooded her body all at once. "None of this would have happened if I had just disarmed the bomb as planned. I could have disposed of my mother in quiet, leaving no evidence that the Soul Robber was ever here in Tatto." Rubbing her temples, she sighed dolefully, "I must admit, I wasn't prepared for any of this."

All of them shook their heads, the eldest speaking out on her defense. "The Soul Robber is to blame for said, not you, madame."

Eden dismissed the notion with a flippant wave of her hand. "The Soul Robber is just a mindless mutt; I want the madman who let him off the leash." She swallowed dryly, the determination seeping deep bone and rejuvenating her scorn for Metsuma Rocket and his band of wretches. "I'll do what my mother couldn't and avenge Sherman Perry myself."

"You're taking an awful risk, Lady Eden, if it's not too bold to say," he remarked, a bit more brazenly this time—but he said this out of concern, not disappointment. "If the Soul Robber truly is an affiliate of Team Comet, how can you be sure he won't make another attempt on your life?"

Eden offered only a thunderstruck expression, as if unable to process his implications.

The younger sage beside the headmaster furrowed a taxing brow. "Have you not heard the reports?", he inquired, her expression unchanged. "He's already vanquished two other innocents, including his own mother."

There was silence for a moment as Eden mulled this over. Even the Seers appeared distraught, the very reminder of such sinful deeds nothing short of heartache to them.

At last... Eden opened her mouth. "That's a tad bit offbeat of his style," she responded apprehensively, cupping her mouth with a dramatic air. She then glanced up at the oh-so-knowledgeable speaker. "If you'd please, can you tell me when and where he was last sighted?"

He nodded. "The Sinnoh Region, last I checked. Rumor has it he's been connected to a massive power outage there. The word has been spreading all morning... but no official confirmation from the authorities of yet."

She huffed out an impetuous sigh, then turned on her heel to face the Legendary Pokémon waiting for her in the shadows. "Virizion, I'm afraid your brethren will have to wait." Her eyes narrowed considerably as the creature revealed itself. "We need to make a detour."

Virizion turned its head away in disdain, snorting, "I want nothing to do with that vile Pokémon murderer. He's a disgrace to both your kind and mine—"

"—which is why he's a problem," Eden lipped back, frowning dismally. "But I have a solution."

…...

The lobby of the Pokémon League Building seemed empty enough, save for a pair of familiar voices whirring clear from an adjoining foyer—angry voices. Agatha crept behind a nearby pilaster and hung close to the shadows, listening closely to the arguesome muttering, most of which belonged to her cold-shoulder sister: Rita.

"Rita, please, can't we talk about this?", Clint's voice sounded distinctly beneath Rita's.

"There's nothing to talk about," the harsher spouse bit back, her tone bored and uncaring. "I'm a free spirit, Clint, and I don't need our silly marriage weighing me down any longer." There was silence for a moment, then Rita's voice pressed on, "Feel free to take the kid when you move into your own place."

But Clint was objective. "Gio needs a mother, Rita!"

"Well I don't need him," she yawned back. "Or you."

More silence. But this time, Clint's voice followed it, "Very well." His reply was willing back tears in an attempt to uphold his pride and masculinity. "I want my ring back."

Finally, Agatha peaked around the object concealing her, just in time to see Rita fling her wedding ring at Clint.

"Take it," Rita snarled, whipping her head aside. "I don't want it anyhow. I'll get tons worth in the divorce settlement."

Clint dropped to his knees and slowly, painfully picked the ring up off the floor, cradling it in his palms. His eyes swam with yet another overtide of unshed tears. He took an unsteady breath... but chose to suppress his outrage. He didn't like being violent. Aggression did not suit him, only compassion—but sadly, Rita didn't want it.

Rita, meanwhile, didn't have the patience to watch to poor sap mope in front of her. Without so much as a 'goodbye', she reeled on her heel and marched out the doors.

Agatha, still hiding in the shadows, couldn't help but feel pity for her dear brother-in-law. Taking a relaxed breath, she stepped into the clearing and cleared her throat. "Clint?"

Clint sprang to his feet like a willow whip. "Oh, goodness!" He quickly tried to wipe away his tears—a useless coverup. "I -I didn't see you there, Agatha. You startled me."

She forced a smile and giggled, "It's a nasty habit of mine, sorry." She parted the wavy golden locks from her eyes, letting her young, bewitching gaze meet his directly. It was to watch his emotions burn through the surface. "I... just dropped by to see if you've heard anything more about the Floe Island murders," she started, furrowing an all-knowing brow. "Obviously, I caught you at a bad time."

He swallowed hard... but didn't waste his time denying anything. "You overheard all of that?"

She nodded. "I apologize for my sister's bawdiness," she sighed, stepping closer to him. "That's just who she is."

Clint stared down at his feet as the truth seeped through him. "Yes, I see that now. I was a fool to think I could change her."

"It's human nature to want change, to want progress," she educated gently, circling him at a comfortable pace. "Speaking as someone who's known Rita since birth, I can honestly say you've done nothing wrong, Clint. You're not the first person she's mistreated for her own guzzling greed."

Clint looked up, eyes darkening. "Then... why do I feel so hurt?", he whispered softly. "Why do I feel so empty?"

Again, Agatha paused in front of him, shooting him an analytical look. "Would you... like to talk about this at length?"

He immediately waved off the suggestion, not wanting to waste her time with such drama. "Oh, I don't wish to bother you. Don't you have to train for the Silver Conference? I'm sure you still have an extensive range of Gyms to challenge back in Johto." More importantly, he didn't feel right about coming forth to a teenage girl about his marital woes.

This time, SHE dismissed HIM. "Nonsense. You're family. And this is a family emergency." Watching him hesitate again, she knew to pry harder, "I'm not just a good listener, Clint. I'm an ace scholar in the field of spiritual advisement, so let me take a crack at this. Let me peg my way to the root of your conflict and expel any self-doubt you carry deep inside yourself."

He remained unsure and frustratingly resistant. "I appreciate the offer, Agatha, but I'm not so sure you can help me."

She could only gape at his weak excuse. "But you're not sure that I can't either. Even Pokémon Masters need to de-stress every now and again—or so I hear. And once the divorce takes root, little Gio will need a stable figure in his life. One with a crisp, clear conscience." She crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "Don't you agree?"

After a long, contemplating silence, he heaved a surrendering breath, then motioned his arm to the nearest foyer. "My quarters are this way," he spoke with a faint smile.

…...

Our footsteps echoed across the marbled flooring of Daken's office as we made ourselves known. And while Kade puttered in the doorway behind me, taking his sweet old time, I didn't waste a moment gliding across the room the greet Daken at his desk.

He didn't so much as stir, however. In fact, he appeared rather lost in thought, wearing a puzzled expression. I could sense he was in a state of discontent... but why? Had he unraveled something about me? No, that couldn't be; he wouldn't have requested Kade's presence on such a personal matter. Obviously, this was business as usual.

I spoke up at last, perhaps waking him from his daze, "You wanted to see us?"

He looked up, nodded, then waved us hither. "Close the doors, won't you?" As he said this, he reeled in his seat to close the window blinds behind him. Something was definitely amiss.

As instructed, Kade shut the door behind him, then tiptoed to my side as we took our seats across from Daken.

It felt like a lifetime before he finally managed to organize his thoughts and communicate them to us in one of his terribly trite metaphors. "The market is like a pendulum that swings from unsustainable highs to unjustified lows," he began, and I could only inwardly groan. "It's always in motion, however, and the moment we fall behind is the moment we go bankrupt. I'd rather risk those highs and lows for the rest of my days than lose everything in an instant."

Beside me, Kade fidgeted in his seat, nowhere near as patient as I. It served him right, though. I couldn't count how many board meetings that flamboyant fool managed to drag out his sales pitches long enough to bore the whole table to sleep, myself included.

After another lengthy speech, Daken pursed his lips and uttered, "I'm pairing the two of you on a secret assignment."

Kade took one look at me, sneered, then whipped his focus back at the man in charge. "Daken, whatever you ask, I'm sure I can handle it on my own."

"Don't be stubborn, Kade," I quipped, resting a cold hand on his sleeve. "I know how much you enjoy our little field trips together—"

Kade turned to stare frostily at me. "The last thing you need is another excuse to avoid your wife."

Daken shook his head, miffed at Kade's easy take on my personal life, then steered our conversation back onto its intended course. "That's far enough, boys. I'm doing this for the good of the company. Besides, it's high time you settle whatever rivalry there is going on between you two."

We both frowned down at our shoes and shrugged, "Fine."

The big man shrunk back in his seat, the rattled expression from before suddenly resurfacing on his lips. "Silph Co. is high tier and I can't risk them running Briskomy out of business."

At last, he wasn't holding anything back and just cutting to the chase, so I immediately fired back with a voice of loyalty, "Well, I think we can all agree with that, sir." I was bullshitting my words, as per usual. Camouflage was important.

He scratched the side of his stubble-lined cheek and cast us another concerning look. "Our distributors anticipate their needs for next quarter. If we can't stay ahead of Silph Co, our business is bound to collapse." He bit down on his lip, as if about to break a law, then breathed, "That is why... I need my top men on this crisis."

I curled my lips into a smile, knowing he was referring to us. "What are you thinking, Daken?"

"I'm thinking about saving this company." He rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb, his eyes hooded and thoughtful. "I'm thinking about people's jobs, about their mortgages and pensions and their Pokémon Training funds for their kids."

I nearly spaced out at that last part, but managed to rouse alert for whatever was next. I rapped my knuckles against the polished black of his desk, gently, and leaned inward. "Have you conferred with the rest of the board?"

He shifted forward, all business. "This assignment is strictly off the record and requires the utmost discretion," he whispered, earning little reaction from either Kade or myself. "No one knows about this, not even Maria."

I chuckled quietly at such an ironic revelation; usually I was the one keeping secrets from Maria.

Daken pressed on, "If I involve the other board members, everyone will want a hand in this. It'll be more chaos than a flock of Spearow fighting for a Weedle platter."

"So you want us to come to an understanding with President Silph?", Kade clarified slowly, gauging his reaction. Neither of us could quite pinpoint what he was asking.

His worn, wrinkled eyes assessed us slowly. "I want you to do whatever is necessary to make this problem disappear." Tension suddenly crackled between us, an electric current washing through the air and buzzing quietly, threateningly. Then, he stood from his desk and bid, "Report back here when you do."

Kade and I exchanged curious glances, quiet as a grave site.

As Daken strode towards the door, probably to rush off to some appointment, he peaked over his shoulder one last time and murmured across the room, "I built this company on my own sweat and blood. We make things here. The people who work here are like family. I can't let that all fall apart because of Silph Co." With that, he took off, leaving the two of us with so little direction.

Mulling over his closing words, I rested my elbows on the arms of my chair and steepled my fingers below my chin. I only half-glanced at Kade, smirking deviously, "What do you suppose he meant by that?"

He mirrored my action with a wry, sassy smile. "It doesn't mean we have to break the law," he dismissed, much to my dismay. "Look, we already have requirement contracts with a lot of well-respected companies." He glanced aside for a pondering moment, then muttered, "Perhaps Silph Co. would consider a merger?"

I nodded, pretending to know nothing. "Then let's go pay Silph a visit, if you think we should."

"Yes, fine," he sighed, jumping from his seat and brushing his lap clean. "Just let me do the talking, will you? If there's one thing I excel at, it's negotiations."

I didn't argue the insult. I contemplated his snub. I already recognized his ambitions and why he so desperately wanted to take charge. He was going to twist this assignment to his advantage and try to get a promotion out of it. What a clever man... but not clever enough, tragically. He'd soon see why.

We gathered our briefcases and skated for the exit, where Kade took the suspicious initiative of opening the door for me. As I hesitated, he cracked a bogus smile at me, whispering, "Shall we?"

…...

"Soldier!", the throaty call rang from the darkness. "Soldier! Wake up!"

Cayman stirred conscious at the holler of Viper's grating voice, body aching and mind whirling with confusion. He lifted his head from the hard pavement and tried to prop himself up against the brick wall behind him, giving him a broader scope of his bearings. Discarded boxes, barrels, and other trash surrounded him, piled high enough so that he couldn't see the entrance to the alley from his position.

A new voice suddenly foisted his awareness—a much more masculine voice. "C'mon, son." It sounded like Culm. "Don't leave us high n' dry!"

Cayman blinked twice, shook off his daze, then turned his head slightly to find the two familiar faces looming over him. "V-Viper?", he identified the first with a weary groan, squinting past a haze of black spots to identify the other. "C-Culm?"

Viper offered only a piercing look. "Please tell me you didn't come all the way out here just to nap in an alley."

"No, I was... I..." He winced at the pain that radiated through his body but gritted his teeth and shifted to lean against the bright blur of graffiti on the walls beside him. As the world spun around him and his stomach lurched in protest, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to clear his head and remember exactly what had happened. "H—How did I get here?", he managed, somewhat angrily. "I thought I got caught!"

Culm scratched at his noggin, dumbfounded, then glanced back over his shoulder, "I reckon you will be if we don't amscray."

Cayman sprung to his feet in protest. "No, man, you don't understand!", he howled. "She and her Pokémon had me cornered at gunpoint! She wouldn't just set me free! I'm supposed to be behind bars right now!"

The rescuing pair looked on in utter silence, unable to make heads or tails of his ramblings. He didn't seem to be making any sense.

His head began to ache desperately when he again attempted to focus on the jagged memories swimming in the fog of his mind. The bits and pieces were hard to hold on to and he bit back another groan at the instant throbbing behind his eyes. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here, wherever here was. He suspected he was still in Vielstone... but he couldn't for the life of him remember falling unconscious in an alley. That wasn't something he'd do, at least not on the job.

"Hmph." Viper, unimpressed, shook his head and huffed bitterly. "You're clearly still disoriented from the coronation. The Boss warned me there would be some long-term flaks. I shouldn't have sent you back on the field so soon—"

"I had everything under control!", Cayman grunted back. "I was just doing my fucking job."

The other boy stood frigid and frowned, almost unwilling to dignify such a response. "If you were doing your job, we wouldn't be standing here with nothing to show for it."

But Cayman was persistent. He stepped right up to Viper's face, gritting, "I had a box full of evidence!"

The boy in uniform furrowed his bushy brow. "Then where is it?"

Cayman chose not to speak, instead risking a glance back over his shoulder... then to his feet... then to Viper again. It was then he realized he hadn't any proof to back his claims. The box was gone. Had he misplaced it? Was there... ever even a box to being with?

"Face it," Viper sneered. "You fell asleep on the job. Don't lie to my face, soldier."

Cayman sucked air into his lungs and turned his head away shyly, muttering, "I guess I... dosed off while waiting for the cops to get my anonymous tip... and dreamed the rest up." It was the only explanation, as much as he hated to admit to it. "But if they're all in Oreburgh now, there's still time to sneak into the station—"

"Oh, forget it," Viper shot him down coldly, his voice little more than a low growl. "We've already put too much at risk. I knew this was a bad idea." He looked away for a second, paused, then pinned Cayman with yet another glare. "You should have just stayed behind and helped us rally to the shore."

Cayman swallowed. "The miners made it to Savile Island, didn't they?"

"By my guidance, yes," the other boy subtly chastised. "They're safe and sheltered, which is more than can be said about you." He turned his back to Metsuma's hotshot and added quietly, "Snoozing in the alleyway next to the department that's hunting you isn't part of your job description, soldier."

Culm chuckled silently to himself, unable to resist.

Cayman clenched his fists. "Hey, watch yourself!" The stiffness of his body tightened with anger, and he took a threatening step towards the pair, "I'm still ranks above you! Both of you! And for the record, I take good fucking care of my subordinates!"

Viper whirled and stared him down, unfazed. "How can you possibly expect to take care of us if you can't even take care of yourself?"

Cayman just froze, unable to react. How could Viper accuse him of inadequacy? He couldn't be blamed for a fault he didn't even remember.

"Funny, I was actually starting to trust your instincts... until now," Viper mumbled under his breath, turning to leave again. "You'll always live in Metsuma's shadow."

"Fuck you," Cayman spat, little to Viper's concern.

Wanting to ease the tension, Culm cleared his throat and levered his finger, "We'd best find a way back to base and quick."

Nodding, Viper casually but guardedly strolled off into the city, gesturing for them to follow.

As Cayman gathered himself for travel, Culm patted the youth's back with a hard jolt. "Ah, don't beat yourself up, son." , He laughed. "We all make blunders from time to time." With that, he carried on after Viper.

But Cayman lingered behind for a moment, scolding himself. "I couldn't have made a mistake!", he hissed, angering to new and dangerous heights. "I seriously DID have everything under control! I... I have to make things right somehow."

…...

Anna zoomed onto the scene in her patrol car, weaving past the wounded citizens of Oreburgh as they limped through the streets around her. The city was ravaged and leveled like a pile of matchsticks, more unpleasant in broad daylight than any blackout imaginable. Reconstruction would surely take some time and effort, assuming the mining operations could be better improved to prevent another merciless upheaval.

Spotting the yellow police tape nearby, Anna pulled to a stop near the mining caves and jumped out of the vehicle, flanked by her trusty Absol.

As she approached the crime scene, clad in her uniform, Lieutenant Ramsley was the first to notice her. He immediately greeted his inferior with that expressionless look of his and crossed his arms in the usual show of disapproval. "Decided to join us, Sergeant?"

She merely brushed off the remark. She never cared for it. "I ran into traffic."

"Well don't dilly-dally," he bit back quietly, his dark gaze catching her electric-blue eyes. "This whole town is now a crime scene, thanks to your suspect. We set up a perimeter around the city for safe measure."

She nodded, pleased with the answer. "Good call. Who knows which of Landon's followers fell behind—" Realizing what she had just let slip, she ran a hand through her hair; it was damp with sweat. Panic caught in her throat as she struggled to mend her utterance. "—and by followers... I mean the Breaker Boys."

Ramsley gave her an awry look, brow raised prominently. He knew she was hiding something, but decided to shrug it off for the time being. "Special Agent Peer is waiting for you near the mines." , He sighed impatiently, looking off in said direction. "He didn't want to proceed until you showed up."

Anna nodded, swallowed, then quickly started towards the mining fields. Once she was out of Ramsley's sights, she breathed out her relief. She had just barely managed to save herself from spilling forth her accomplice theory, something she just couldn't present to Ramsley until she had enough proof to back it. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself again.

Further up ahead, Agent Peer spun on his heel and adjusted the lens of his monocle, as if to confirm he was truly looking on towards Anna.

Anna rolled her eyes and chuckled, "What happened to your date?"

"Duty calls, as usual," he answered dryly, but not without a dry smile to match—at least it was genuine. "A lot of the locals are bit rattled by the ordeal," he sighed, placing his hands on his hips and looking down in thought. "I'd rather question them at a more appropriate time. I don't wish to be rude."

Again, Anna chortled, this time with a touch of sarcasm. "No, God forbid we do our job..."

He smiled approvingly at her sense of humor, then turned towards the cave. "In the meantime, you and I can search these mines for clues."

Anna furrowed a brow. "You have a name yet?", she asked, voice shaky. "For the body found?"

Hesitating a moment, Peer frowned and raised a finger to a sobbing woman being escorted from the cave entrance by an Officer Jenny and her Growlithe. "Our only sole witness to the murder has barely spoken a word," he rued, clearly more distraught for the woman's loss than her lack of voice. "She's obviously traumatized."

Anna couldn't keep from chewing on her lip as she watched the foreman's wife sulk past them. "Yeah, no shit. If she really did watch the Soul Robber slaughter an innocent, who can blame her?" She watched the tears stroll down the widow's cheeks, familiar. "I had that same look on my face after Pamela Kace was killed. I know she's not lying."

Peer just nodded. He trusted Anna's instincts, she almost never let a lead sneak past her nose. Such devotion was a trait he highly admired in law enforcement.

Anna didn't waste any time approaching the widow, but treaded lightly, not wanting to overwhelm her. "Miss, I understand you know something about the Soul Robber?" There was no response, so she just pressed the big question, "Are you sure you last spotted Landon Kace in these caves? It was dark because of the blackout, so it's possible you just... I don't know... misidentified the perpetrator—"

"All your proof... is in there," the widow murmured with her finger pointed to the cave, tears clogging her throat.

Anna briefly glanced in the given direction, then turned to face the woman again. "I believe you," she whispered tenderly, biting her lip. "Thanks for your time."

As the woman was whisked away by a mob of cops, Anna stepped back to Peer's side. She inhaled as she'd just surfaced from a deep dive... then chanced a glance at a thoughtful Peer, whom stood in a manner that suggested he'd just heard everything.

He rubbed his chin luminously as his ponytail danced in the cold, whispering wind. "There's definitely a body in there—the husband's, if I had to guess." He spoke with such passionate precision that it instantly extinguished Anna's sorrows, making her want to solve this murder just as badly as him. "Until we learn anything more, I'd like to treat this as a homicide, if that's okay with you."

Anna half-smiled at the goofy but brilliant detective, jesting, "That's kind of why we're here, isn't it?"

"Then let's investigate, shall we?" He reeled around and motioned the other police officers back into the city. "The rest of you, search the grounds. Question anyone ready to speak. We'll rendezvous in an hour."

Anna spaced out for a moment, her thoughts focused in a dark place as she waited for him to finish instructing the others.

Noticing her apparent daze, Peer nudged her arm and chuckled, "You might want to brace yourself."

A blush crept up on her face and she rolled her eyes, though did her best to hide it. "I've seen my share of corpses, sir. You don't have to worry about me."

"My mistake," he said with a harmless shrug, though continued to stare her down suspiciously, as if profiling her with only his eyes; he had a knack for doing that. "You just seem a little flustered, is all."

The corners of her mouth turned down as he regarded his concern carefully. "Hm? Oh, it's... nothing," she quickly dismissed, taking a step inside the cavern. "Let's just search this hellhole, yeah?"

With another shrug, he gestured the forensics team hither, then followed Anna and her Absol into the underground campsite—where Spade Bitumen's body lay waiting.

…...

Clint ushered Agatha into his private quarters, motioning to the paintings and murals covering every spare inch. These pieces of art depicted scenes from scripture, epic battles from medieval warfare, as well beautiful, refined paintings of Legendary Pokémon. It was like stepping into a miniscule museum instead of an office.

Agatha admired the antiquity briefly, then dimmed the lights and closed the window shades.

Clint regarded her with a furrowed brow, but quickly changed his attitude when he noticed her setting down several candles on the center of the floor. "Is this supposed to be a meditation exercise or something?"

She briefly glanced up from her duffel bag of candles, smiling. "Think of it as a vision quest—a spiritual awakening, of sorts. You can't break away from your fears until you know what it is you're afraid of."

Clint could only slouch his shoulders. "What am I supposed to be afraid of?"

"We're going to reach inside of you and find out," she clarified. "Spiritual pathways are my specialty, after all."

"I don't understand," he stuttered back.

As Agatha continued to carefully place her candles in an ornate layout, she explained quietly, "After I left Pallet Town to pursue the channeler's life, I became enamored with Ghost Pokémon. They became my obsession. The powers I acquired, the secrets I unraveled... they nearly corrupted me at one point." She looked up from her work, noticing the intrigue in his eyes. "I now harness the dead through an even stronger connection with the spirit realm—a connection built on friendship, not tyranny."

Clint smiled faintly. "How did you ever manage to—"

But she waved him quiet, instead placing a rugged, torn-up book in the center of the candle ring. The text was somewhat faded, but readable.

Clint leaned forward and immediately identified it without even reading the title. "The Book of Wraith," he exhaled sharply, as if spewing out a demonic presence. Slowly, carefully, he picked up the relic, examining it more closely. "This is the sixth volume of the Oci Chronicles, if I'm not mistaken. Wade mentioned he'd lent it to Nelson Oak for research purposes."

Agatha nodded. "And in turn, Nelson gave it to me. What do you think I've been studying in my solitude?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half grin as his fingers roamed the dusty print. "You realize with this knowledge... you could easily become one of the most powerful Ghost-Type Trainers in the Pokémon League."

Agatha put a finger to her lips, silencing the Pokémon Master. "I still have a long way to go before that," she whispered, then clapped her hands twice.

The candles ignited all at once and Clint jumped back in panic.

She paused and gave him a gentle, calming smile. Once she was sure he wouldn't bolt out of the room screaming, she reached behind her to flicker off the lights entirely.

The darkness lasted only a moment as a ring of candles decorated the edge of the rug. It left the high ceiling in darkness, giving the room a cave-like feel. Coils of smoke rose from a brass incense holder that rested on a low table. Instantly Clint's muscles uncoiled, his whole body relaxing in full response. He slumped to the floor in front of the candles and inhaled the spectral aroma.

Slowly, Agatha unhinged her knees and dropped into the proper position across from Clint. Her dress slowly curled up her frame, cool fabric hissing against her skin. She sat in perfect stillness, silent like carved from pale marble in the dark shadows that spilled out around her, leaving little to the candlelight.

Clint turned his head slightly to find the beady red eyes of Haunters and Gastlys beckoning from the darkness around them, drawn to the sacrament. "Is all this really necessary?"

Agatha's gaze turned sharp. "Are you at peace?"

He worked his jaw, "Y—Yes?"

She grinned, nodding. "Then it's necessary."

He shrugged back a little, somewhat spooked, but the positive energies of the smoke suddenly put his unease to rest. He relaxed a bit more, numbing his stresses until he could hear them no more.

Agatha watched as he dozed off, then snapped her fingers to the shadows. "Gastly, he is ready."

The black ball of ghostly matter appeared before its Master, nodding with a slight cackle, "Gassstly! Gastt!"

She looked her Pokémon square in the eye and pressed her hands together, palms kissing and fingers intertwining. "Let us sew a vivid connection with his inner self."

Suddenly, Gastly's eyes took on a fierce crimson glow, as more smoke poured from the candles, enshrouding the three in total darkness.

Amidst all of this, Agatha took a deep breath and went over the spell in her head. She tried to make sure her tongue remembered the chant properly, accurately. And then slowly, she began to speak in runes, hugging the Book of Wraith close to her chest as she reached out to Clint's soul.

…...

The limousine ride to Saffron was more or less uneventful. We exchanged few words until finally pulling to a stop in front of Silph Co. Headquarters, where I quietly but cooperatively climbed out of my seat and followed my overconfident colleague to the entrance of the rustic building.

Two men in olive-colored uniforms—security guards, by the looks of them—stepped aside as we made our way into the lobby, pushing and shoving through crowds of Pokémon Trainers.

Indeed, there were people everywhere, demanding tours and coupons and just about anything else advertised outside the building. For a main lobby, Silph Co. was packed, which was a rather unfortunate. This was supposed to be a discreet business venture and the last thing we needed was to draw attention to ourselves.

Kade, fortunately, had already devised a plan. Reaching into his vest pocket inconspicuously, he pulled out a silver clip of Pokédollars, kicked the door open behind him with his heel, then slung the clip of cash into the street for all to see.

As soon as the security guards outside shrieked, "Free Money!", every trainer in the lobby flocked outside, all the while Kade stared down at his well-polished shoes and whistled casually to himself, unnoticed by the passersby. I was amused, though not particularly surprised. If he could pull that stunt successfully on Rita, he could pull that trick on anyone, guaranteed.

We cinched the doors shut, flipped the 'open' sign to 'closed', then quietly walked up to the reception desk, where a middle-aged woman was idly reading a magazine while gnawing on a wad of chewing gum. On her desk sat an Oddish, using it's palm leaf to fiddle with the ringing telephone, little to the woman's heed.

Kade straightened his roseate tie and cleared his throat, motioning a hand to the Oddish's antics. "Letting a Pokémon answer your phones?" He shook his head in dismay, as I just stood behind him in silence. "Not very professional, my dear," he continued to prod her. "Why not start promoting your merchandise by putting that thing in a Pokéball?"

The woman looked up from her reading and eyed Kade keenly. "She keeps the lobby smelling nice," she bit back flatly, blowing a rather large pink bubble in his face, something I couldn't help but snicker at. "Is that a problem, sir?"

He leaned away from the desk, shrugging his thinly shoulders as innocently as he could. "Just a little courteous advice, on my part."

She rolled her eyes and sank back in her chair, arching a brow to the both of us. "Can I help you gentlemen with something?"

I didn't mutter a word, heeding Kade's earlier instructions; to this end, I was but an observer to his alleged 'tact' and 'finesse' in the art of business dealings.

As if just realizing I hadn't yet spoken, Kade gathered himself and answered the woman in a sharp, brassy tone. "Yes, I'm Kade Sorhagen", he introduced himself, then gestured to me, "and this is my business associate, Metsuma Rocket." He put on a broad, beguiling smile as she looked on, unimpressed. "Your employer knows us as members of the Briskomy Board of Directors. We'd just like a moment of his time."

Bored with us already, she yawned listlessly, "Do you have an appointment?"

Kade upheld his fake smile, gritting through his teeth, "I'm afraid not."

Looking down at her chart, she shrugged a shoulder and sighed, "Well, I'm sorry, but President Silph is very busy at the moment." She glanced up at Kade again, this time more discordantly. "I could pass on a message to him, if you'd like. Or perhaps you'd wish to speak to one of his—"

In an unnecessary show of top secrecy, Kade shifted his body against the counter and whispered down at her, "We'd actually prefer to keep our visit as off-the-record as possible."

She frowned, still unconvinced. "I'm not sure I understand, sir."

Finally, Kade's mask melted away and he turned to glance at me, his annoyed expression practically pleading with me to lend him a hand. "A little help?"

I merely smiled and shrugged my shoulders. Then, just to bust his chops a bit more, I made a 'zip of the lip' gesture with my hand.

Kade eventually gave up on trying to crack my shell, and swung around to address Silph's secretary once more. He tilted his head a few centimeters in a nod, as if to put her at ease. "You know what? We'll just find him ourselves." With that being his ruling, he marched past the desk and towards the nearest elevator.

The woman sprung from her seat in nervous protest. "Hey, sir, you can't just—"

Kade whirled, smiling as he treaded backwards down the foyer. "I'm as harmless as can be, sweetheart."

The woman lost all control of her patience, as I expected, and hollered furiously down the hall, "Security!"

Still moving rearward, Kade came to a halt when he felt himself back into a strong, immovable object. He reeled on his heel, as if ready to swing a punch, but immediately recoiled when he found himself confronted by a pair of angry Machamp blocking his path.

Before I could even begin to guess what would happen next, the gargantuan powerhouses hoisted Kade into the air, each Pokémon holding an arm, and began rattling him over their heads like a pepper shaker—and from what I could detect, they were barely applying any strength into their little torture method.

I remained at the desk, grinning candidly to the receptionist, paying no mind to Kade. I wasn't supposed to interfere, after all. Besides, this was rather amusing.

"Metsuma!", He squealed rather girlishly, as his limbs groaned and twisted against various tugs and yanks. "Say something! Do something!"

"Oh, for the love of—" I stepped away from the desk, watching the woman and her Oddish laugh hysterically at Kade's beatdown, then pulled my hands together behind my back and ever so gracefully shut my eyes, relaxing my brain muscles... and honing their energy.

"Metsuma!", Kade cried out a final time, buckling my focus and sending jagged shards of pain slicing across my brain.

But I quickly rebounded. And with the twitch of an unseen finger, I opened my eyes, watching my psychic fetters snatch the woman's Oddish into an invisible chokehold.

"What in the—" The woman stumbled back, gobsmacked, as her Pokémon fluttered helplessly in the air, crying out in agony. "What's happening!", The woman screamed, terror flowing through her voice, but bringing a smile to my lips. "Somebody, help! Please!"

"Oddi!" The petal Pokémon rasped, hacking on my tightening grip. "Oddish! Oddish! Odd—"

Frozen in place, the Machamp duo looked up at the unfathomable sight, then tossed Kade aside and rushed to the distress call.

It was at that moment did I release Oddish's constrictions and let the feckless Pokémon plummet towards the floor. I turned away just as both Machamps dived in to catch her, then brushed past the speechless receptionist. Her eyes were glazed over with tears, with panic. Behind me, I sensed that the Pokémon was unconscious, so it came as no surprise when the group took off outside to find the closest Pokémon Center.

With the lobby now empty and security successfully bypassed, I brushed down my lap and calmly started towards the elevators. I didn't even stop to coax Kade up off the floor, though he didn't even appear capable of moving at all. He could only stare up at me with a haunted yet quizzical pair of eyes. I merely ignored them.

Finally, he repositioned his jaw and slowly rose to his feet, muttering, "How did you—"

"Divine intervention, I suppose," I answered rather dismissively, turning to face him—but not without a quizzical expression of my own. I didn't bother with his dead stillness and simply pressed in a chafing tongue, "Why are we just standing here?" I courteously extended an arm to the end of the foyer, insisting he take charge again. "By your leave, negotiator."

He brought his fingers to his lips for a thoughtful second, then finally shrugged off his concerns and frolicked ahead of me, choosing to forget the ordeal and get back to business. It was probably for the best.

…...

The familiar scent of grassy dew hit Cayman's nose as he and his rescue party began their ascent up the desolate, uncivilized mountains of the Coronet Divide. Far and wide, nature was prominent, characterized by expanse stretches of land, jagged cliffs and great towering mountains, enormous cascading waterfalls, and steep, perpetual abysses.

They headed up the incline cautiously, Cayman at the front, ready to sink an Aura Blade into anything that attacked them. His head twirled in all directions as they pressed onward, keeping a sharp lookout for any potential threat. "We can't hide out in these mountains forever," he grunted over his shoulder, loud enough for Viper to hear. "Let's just sneak our way to the nearest port and find a way to signal Psycho-Difo's ship."

Behind him, Viper negated the suggestion. "Difo's long gone by now. He didn't want to wait around for the coastguard to spot his ship, especially not after yesterday's ordeal."

At this, Cayman stopped cold in his tracks, slowly swiveled on his heel, and presented Viper and Culm with the dirtiest look he could muster. "Let me get this straight," he seethed through gritted teeth. "You came all this way without an escape plan?"

Viper narrowed his eyes to a near grimace. "We came all this way to tie up loose ends," he bit back, clearly unthreatened. "You're a liability, Cayman... but Metsuma would never allow us to kill you... though I don't see why not, given that any potential you demonstrated back in the mines is long gone by now." He bucked his head to the side, muttering, "Any true leader would—"

Cayman was shaking his head now, a show of fault clear on his face. "Look, man, I don't need your preachy bullshit!", he barked shortly but crossly. "I know I fucked up, okay? You don't think I feel like shit already?"

Culm, the most pastoral of the group, stepped in between the two boys before they could rip each other apart. "Look, fellas, maybe we ought to just—" But something caught his eye, preventing him from finishing. He glanced beyond his bickering comrades to find Lunatone and Solrock approaching from the north. "Huh," he grunted, gaze now pointed towards Cayman. "Looks like them Pokémon of yours finished their sweep of the area."

Cayman turned his head to the astral duo speeding towards him. He'd never seen them so spry and excited.

"Kami! Kami!", they chanted out in one voice, circling their Master as he stood puzzled and frustrated. "We found something that might be of interest to you!"

Cayman sighed. It sounded a little mournful. "Finally, some good news," he answered, surprisingly calm with his tone. He shot Viper one last daggering glare, then returned his attention to his Pokémon. "You bozos scouted the entire valley?"

They nodded, though Lunatone was the first to specify, "We discovered an abandoned vehicle buried inside a nearby cave."

"Good," Viper grunted, pushing past the lot of them. "Let's hope we can hot-wire it."

Cayman rolled his eyes. "And let's hope it travels underwater, seeing as how we're stranded."

The trio followed their space rock ushers further along the pass, moving at an impressive pace as they herded upwards towards the hidden mouth of a yawning cave, so high up on the mountains that their lungs strained to take a full breath. The cavern entrance, camouflaged by a series of tree branches, blended effortlessly with its natural surroundings, as if strategically placed for just such a purpose.

A colorful orchard of Budews and Cherubi, however, waddled in the grasses just outside the cave, likely patrolling their turf.

"Piss off, puny plants," Cayman shooed them off before pressing the mouth of the entrance, non-too enthusiastic about it.

The rosebud critters immediately scattered upon the rude obtrusion, allowing Culm and Viper to proceed into the cavern after Cayman, unchallenged. Inside, the air inside was warm and moist inside, like the breath of a Charizard. Cobwebs and moss hung from above like curtains, swaying with the balmy, fickle breeze pouring in from behind.

Lunatone and Solrock immediately took to the fore of the movement, their luminescent eyes lighting a clear enough path for Cayman and his allies. But the two Pokemon soon came to a stop when they detected the large object spoken of earlier, and moved aside for the humans to inspect.

Cayman froze, however. He was unsure of what to make of this spectacle. Behind him, Culm and Viper stared with equal apprehension.

A totaled vehicle of great metal bulk, with a drill frame assembly in a substantially horizontal position, stood half buried in the gravel, piked upright like some kind of fallen monument. A series of wires and scrap metal spilled loosely from the wreckage like tiny intestines, scattered but salvageable.

"What in tarnation is that thing?", Culm uttered what they were all thinking.

Viper moved in closer, careful not to trip over any loose equipment. "It looks just like a drill," he deduced, fascinated by the vehicle's complex design and lucid metal armor. "This is unexpected... but I'll take it. I've never seen such cutting edge machinery." He curled his lips inward, then moved his gaze to the drill embedded on the anterior of the tank. "If it burrows, I'll bet it can navigate underground."

While Culm knelt down to examine the damages, Cayman could only glare at Viper for such wishful thinking.

Viper, however, didn't relent. "We could coast beneath the seafloor, undetected, and arrive ashore Savile Island by daybreak."

Cayman looked back and forth between Viper and the drill, then ran a hand through his spiky hair, heaving a frustrated breath. "How are we supposed to drive a giant fucking drill?"

"It's fixin' it up that's the real chore, I'd say," Culm chimed in as he crawled towards the drill's splintered hatchet. "Looks like this hunk of junk took quite a beating."

Viper folded his arms over his chest. "Is it repairable, Culm?" His tone was tight, belying his worry.

Culm snatched a wrench from his mining gear and gave a salute to his superior. "Yeah, I reckon," he called back, poking his head through the puncture. It provided him a better view of the interior, where more wiring lay strewn about. "The circuitry don't look all that complicated," he affirmed, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Back when I was down in the mines, I worked on the power generator more times than I can count. Got it up and runnin' every single time it failed on us. I can jumpstart this just as easily, but it might cost us some time."

"It's worth the wait," Viper replied, confirming his decision with an unneeded nod of his head. He didn't wait for Cayman to object, however, and turned to address the other boy directly and firstly. "We should patrol the entrance, make sure no one spots us."

Cayman delayed in his response. H closed his eyes and inhaled a lungful of musty, damp cave air. Finally, he looked up at Viper and nodded.

As Culm shimmied himself fully inside the drill and began fiddling with the wires, Solrock reared its body to its creator, speaking on behalf of both itself and its feminine counterpart. "We'll remain here, Kami, in case our faculties are required."

Cayman simply waved them off. "Fine, whatever," he sighed cheerlessly, following Viper out of the cave. "Just don't annoy him while he's working."

Leaving Culm and the Pokémon behind, Viper led Cayman back to the cave entrance, though it was simply a clever excuse to further reprobate Cayman without interference. "You're lucky we have a brilliant mechanic with us or we'd still be wandering these pikes."

At this, Cayman's face morphed into pure disgust. "Are you still trying to guilt me?" When he received no answer, he leaned in Viper's face, acting bold, but the milder of the two could see the brasher boy's lips quivering unsteadily. Even Cayman knew Viper's passive aggressiveness was always unexcelled in these situations.

Surprisingly, however, Viper said nothing at all. He didn't so much as acknowledge the question. He simply looked off to the distance pompously but composedly.

Shrugging off the uncomfortable silence, Cayman brushed a few strands of his lush, wavy hair from his eyes, watching the clouds drift on the mountaintops as his thoughts consumed him. Really, it wasn't about Viper's constant badgering; it was his conscience that was eating away at him, for he knew he couldn't leave Sinnoh with his job unfinished. For the sake of his survival and code of conduct, he had to peek into Anna's investigation and dig up something juicy.

Viper fidgeted to say something, but Cayman suddenly bolted right before his eyes, spurring down the mountain at unthinkable speed. Viper instinctively chased after him, hollering, "Where do you think you're going, soldier?"

Cayman paused, then whirled around to face his approaching ally and clear the air, "To finish what I started." His voice hissed out tightly, and he was dead serious in every word he spoke. "The entire Vielstone police force is stationed just on the other side of this mountain. I'm going to find out what Metsuma's ex knows about me once and for all."

Viper pulled to a stop in front of Cayman, which was a hard feat to pull off when racing downhill. He was panting heatedly though, never angrier with Cayman than now. "Oreburgh is canvassed, you idiot!" His eyes narrowed further as his rage simmered. "You'll never make it out of there without a pair of handcuffs slapped around your wrists! This it too risky!"

Cayman's lips formed into a hard line, but he shrugged Viper's words off as though they were weightless, nothing. "Anything's better than sitting around waiting for Culm while you guilt me into a fucking puddle of disgrace."

Viper paled and bit down on his bottom lip, searching for something to respond with.

Growing impatient, yet still feeling foolish for phrasing his frustration so bluntly, Cayman sighed and started down the trail again. "Look, just relax. I won't be long, alright?"

"No, not alright!" Viper lurched a hand forward, grasping Cayman's wrist. "I know you don't want to fail your father but—"

"This isn't about Metsuma!", Cayman spat back, wrenching his arm from Viper's grasp. "This is about leverage!" His voice became stronger, firmer—just like his pep talk to the Breaker Boys."I have to protect myself from life in prison! The more Intel we have on the cops, the better!"

Viper visibly paled again, taken aback. He never thought he'd see Cayman speak such tenacity again, and it made him wonder if the hothead really hadn't relapsed. Maybe there was more to his failure in Veilstone, because a tenacious man could never fall asleep on the job... could he?

"We need to stay one step ahead of them, Viper," Cayman pressed, his voice suddenly soft. "I'm not about to chicken out of this."

Viper raised a passionate brow. A deep understanding burned within his eyes, they seemed to read with an intense experience of one who had been there and back again. Then, after a long enough pause, he replied, "That's the first smart thing you've said all day." Never letting go of the stern writ on his face, he decided with one swift declaration, "I'm coming with you."

Cayman began to shake his head. "I don't need help—"

"That wasn't a request, soldier," Viper snarled back. "Deal with it."

A sardonic smile spread across Cayman's face. He gave a slight nod, then started back up towards the cave. "I'll go let Culm know."

Viper remained where he was, waiting for his partner to return. From the corner of his eye, however, he noticed a familiar cluster of Cherubi and Budews emerging from the nearby bushes, their numbers greater and far more threatening than before. And as they slowly began to amass around him, he gave a lethal little grimace... and reached for the lone Pokéball dangling from his utility belt.

…...

"Sinnoh is far prettier in person than in the picture books," Eden murmured to herself as she surveyed the mountainous landscape around her. This was her first real glimpse of the outside world and she was enjoying every second of it. And thanks to Virizion's whirlwind speed, she could come and go as she pleased, unchecked, any time she wished.

From the grassy pasture of Route 210 emerged Virizion itself, having just finished its surveillance of the area. The Pokémon approached Eden from behind, careful not to startle her, and waited for her to snap out of her enchanted daze.

Hearing the Pokémon's pattering hooves, Eden reeled, grinning fondly. "Any luck?", she asked. "Were you able to speak with the native Grass-Type Pokémon?"

The Grassland Pokémon nodded stoically. "They remember spotting a young human with spiky green hair wandering these parts not long ago. He was headed for a cabin up north, not far from here."

Eden looked off in the northward direction, spotting the spec of a distant house beyond acres of parries, then breathed out her content. "Your ability to communicate with wild Pokémon is quite handy, Virizion," she commended the buck. "I can't thank you enough for all of this. I must admit, we make an unlikely team, given your grudge against humans. But I hope I can change your attitude a little."

Rather than indulge the comment, Virizion whipped its head around, sensing a change in the air. The Pokémon sniffed once, then uttered, "Someone is near."

Eden nodded and backed up a few paces, allowing Virizion to take the lead in the event of some kind of danger. She closely followed her guardian back into the pasture as they slowly began to hone in on their target.

…...

Wilma had been avoiding the burial site for days now, each visit became harder and harder on her. The grave was filled with the stench of death, and even though the sun shown high in the sky, a bitter chill rolled down her spine. She bent down a little, and placed the flowers she had specially pick, Dragon Lilies, on top of the soil and sighed.

Just then, a breeze gently passed by, carrying the scent of spring with it. Wilma inhaled the strong, fragrant air, suspicious.

"Excuse me?", a petite voice crept up from behind her, causing her to turn her head ever so slightly. "Would you happen to know who lives in that cabin up ahead?"

Wilma's eyes immediately met with that of a young lass, dawned fully in a forest robe, the hood pulled up over her head. She bared the appearance of a young, woodland goddess: shining jade hair and piercing gold eyes, all coddled in a lush spread of nature's finest green garments. It was like boring into the gaze of mother nature herself.

Beside the girl stood a horned Pokémon, also green in color, with legs that resemble pointed knee-high boots. From the looks, it wasn't native to Sinnoh; but despite its feminine features, it certainly looked like a powerhouse Pokémon, flaunting hooves that could crush even the thickest of skulls.

Wilma inspected the bungling lot for just a moment longer, then answered the question, "You're looking at her." Her words came out muffled, mixed with tears and sniffles.

Eden and Virizion exchanged attritional glances, the latter unsure of what to say. Eden, however, generously offered her heart. She knelt beside the woman and folded her hands against her lips. "Have you... lost someone?"

"No, I wouldn't say that." Wiping her tears away quickly, Wilma tried to compose herself, letting a hopeful smile break from a thick front of heartache. "His spirit is watching over me," she spoke slowly, fumbling with the soft soil, letting it flow through her fingers. "I'm sure of it."

Eden bit her lip, realizing the woman's fragile state. "We can come back later, miss," she said as she moved to stand up again. "We don't wish to intrude—"

But Wilma promptly cut her down with a simple but straightforward question, "Have you come to question me about the Soul Robber?"

Eden stared at Wilma blankly, shellshocked by the spot-on conjecture.

"You wear the robes of the Seer Fellowship," Wilma quietly explained herself, motioning a hand to the girl's wardrobe. "They recently suffered a fatal blow at the hands of the Soul Robber, didn't they?" She was obviously referring to the Cosma Point fallout, yet she was carefully gauging Eden's reaction.

Eden rose to her feet—a measure of caution, no doubt—but stood frozen, eyes pooling into Wilma's, as if searching them for any proof that Cayman had been there. "You met him."

"I did," Wilma replied curtly, then dropped her gaze to the grave once more. "...so did Dragonair, unfortunately."

Hearing this, Virizion stomped its hooves angrily. "He did this!", The Pokémon cursed out Cayman in disgust, glaring daggers at Wilma. "He murdered your Pokémon! This is why your species is an embarrassment—"

But Eden swept her hand to her side, silencing the outspoken Eco-defender. "Virizion, please, I'll handle this." She cleared her throat, pressing Virizion to back down and restrain itself, then quietly engaged Wilma once more, "As bereaved as I am by the loss of an innocent Pokémon, I'm interested to know why YOUR life was spared."

Wilma shook her head in dismay. "It wasn't like that, at least not intentionally." She swallowed a hard lump in her throat as she labored to call the memories to the front of her mind again. "He had a sword drawn to my throat, a sword made of some strange energy. And he was about ready to finish me off. But then... he didn't."

Eden arched a brow. "How so?"

"I... can't explain it," Wilma sighed tensely, narrowing her eyes in some kind of recollective focus. "He was soaked in tears, going on and on about saving his mother and wanting to be with her while he still had time." Straining to look up, she whispered, "He was a very disturbed young man, I can say that much. And... I'm not ashamed to say I felt badly for him. I even offered to help him... but—"

Eden gasped, her own voice tight with amazement, "Is that why he came to you? For help?"

Wilma laughed, an ironic laugh. "No, heavens no. Not for that kind of help." She looked up at Eden, smiling weakly. "He came to me hoping I'd heal his deathly ill Flygon, which I did out of a compassionate heart. The poor creature looked like it had just barely survived an inferno."

From this information could Eden quickly put the pieces into place: Cayman's Flygon truly had suffered some deadly ailments, likely due to the radiation from the Cosma explosion, which meant that Cayman had traveled to Sinnoh straight out of Tatto, no detours or pit stops attached. Odd. But it sure explained Flygon's swift treatment.

Wilma continued in a rather dejected tone, "But I later came to learn the young man was but a pawn of Sa'lu and Metsuma's insidious scheme, sent to kill me." She curled her lips inward. "He attacked me in my own home... and he took the life of my Dragonair."

"Again, I'm so sorry," Eden breathed in, draping a condoling arm around the other woman's shoulder. "What else can you tell me about Cay—" She stopped mid-sentence, wishing she had kept her beau nameless just in case, then swiftly corrected herself, "I mean... the Soul Robber."

But Wilma knew as well as Eden, she hadn't forgotten, so there was no point in beating around the bush. "Cayman was torn between his love for his mother and his duty to Metsuma," she summed it all up as best she could. "He had a mental breakdown, right in front of me, then fled Sinnoh the very next instant. That was the last I ever saw of him." A frown pulled down her lips as she voiced her regret, "To be perfectly honest... I've contemplated going to the police and telling them everything—"

"That isn't necessary!", Eden squealed, taking a shaky step forward. "That is, Virizion and I can handle this situation."

Wilma could only stare in bewilderment. Something wasn't right about these two well-meaning but unusual characters.

Likely realizing how clumsily she'd asserted her objection, Eden cleared her throat again, reassuring the Dragon Tutor, "It's in everyone's best interest."

Wilma, however, payed the matter little more concern and climbed to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, I must return to my home."

"Yes, of course," Eden consented, smiling warmly. "Thank you for all your help, miss."

"Call me Wilma, dear," The woman chuckled, tucking red and gold hair behind her ear, then started towards her cabin.

Once Wilma was out of sight, Eden swept Virizion a bright, knowing glance. "Even after killing me, Cayman took my dying words into account," she purred, pleased with these revelations. "He truly is having second thoughts about Metsuma. I knew he'd come to see right, I just knew he would!"

Virizion remained skeptical, however. "Then why would he murder his own mother?"

A rakish smile spread across her face, warming up her fearless eyes. "Oh, I don't believe he did. If what Wilma said is true, Cayman would never hurt someone so precious to him." She gave Virizion a moment to ponder this, then continued, "Metsuma framed him. It's just as I suspected. That horrid man is coercing Cayman through sheer, brutal force and won't stop until he's descended the poor thing into madness."

Virizion sighed in response, uncaring towards all of this. The Pokémon knew so little of this Metsuma character and therefore remained uncommitted to anything beyond their original plan: to confer with the Court of Swords in the Unova Region.

"Metsuma is to blame, Virizion," Eden pressed urgently, like an obsessed woman defending the unlikeness of her abusive spouse. "It's not too late for Cayman. We can break the curse Metsuma has over him!"

Virizion frowned. "I can only be so patient, Lady Eden. The Swords of Justice are waiting for us."

Eden nodded, running a gentle hand along the Pokémon's right antler. "Patience, Virizion. The sooner we find Cayman, the sooner we can leave for Unova."

But the doubtful doe turned its head away in resentment, "Why is it so important we find him?"

At this, Eden paused, as if deliberating whether or not to open up, then professed briefly, "He and I were well acquainted, once upon a time." She held her grin in place, refusing to let it slip. "I think we can use him to our advantage."

"That filthy, murderous human betrayed you," the Pokémon reminded her—a valid point, too. "Why should we trust him?"

She slouched her shoulders, jutting her bottom lip out in protest. "It's not HIM I'm asking you to trust," she cooed softly, looking deep into the creature's tragically nonplussed eyes. "But I sincerely hope you trust ME, Virizion."

Virizion lowered its head, as if to consider her assertion, but a ripple in nature suddenly shuttered its ace senses. The Pokémon cringed and kicked up its hooves like a spooked Rapidash, picking up a disturbance.

Eden jumped back, startled, then reached a hand out in panic, "What's the matter?"

Virizion untensed at the calm of her voice, gritting out, "Multiple Pokémon... wounded... in distress—" It perked its head up and looked off to the pikes, "They're in the mountains. We must go to them! It's my duty to—"

Eden nodded, equally concerned. "Say no more."

…...

Silph had his focus tossed to the wall as we entered his quarters, office phone pressed to his ear, fingers drumming impatiently against the surface of his desk. He appeared busy, yet I couldn't help but presume he'd heard about the trouble downstairs. The man was a stickler for tight security; unfortunately for him, Kade and I had outsmarted his top men—or Machamps, rather. But we were hopeful he'd see such measures as exemplary devotion.

As he spun anxiously in his swivel chair, the phone cord coiling around him with each turn, Kade and I exchanged mirroring glances, almost like we were both wondering the same question: were we wasting our time with this bumbling nutcase? Striking a deal with a stubborn, senile industrialist like Silph would be a huge mistake, I could just feel it in my bones. "We'd be better off waiting for the old coot to keel over and die," I mused to myself, grinning at the imagery. "Besides, I'd much prefer to do business with the more practical Silph Jr, assuming lunacy doesn't run in their genes."

Our concerns were soon answered when Silph suddenly sprung from his chair in fury, the sudden movement splitting the phone cord in two. He spun around and started jabbing the buzzer on his desk, screaming into it, "For the love of Arceus, will you answer me, Julie?" His voice was a booming crest of powerful sound—odd for a man his age. "I'm expecting important calls and I need you on the line!"

"Gracious, you're in a feisty mood, President Silph!", Kade managed, probably trying to lighten the mood with his sassy charm.

Startled, Silph whirled around, trying to place where the voice had come from. Finally, he stopped in front of us, no happier than before. "Who in the blazes let you in here?", he demanded. "Leave at once or I'll call security!"

"Good one!", Kade cackled, crossing over to the desk and handing Silph his business card. "If you haven't recognized us by now, I have a feeling this meeting won't go so smoothly."

Oddly tranquil for a man who had just mutilated his office phone, Silph ran a hand along his smooth jawline and fiddled with the card before slipping it into his vest pocket. His shoes tapped lightly along the polished floors as he extended us a long, analyzing gaze. "You're Daken's boys, eh?"

A chortling Kade straightened his tie, as if showing off, and raised an astonished eyebrow. He was clearly still offended by the lack of recognition. "We are honorary members of the Briskomy Board of—"

"Shh!", the old suit hushed him, finger touching his lips. Once all was quiet, he again yelled into the unresponsive intercom, "Julie, I told you not to schedule any meetings—"

Kade rolled his eyes in annoyance, a sentiment I incidentally shared at that moment. "We're not here by invitation nor appointment." Kade blinked a few times, trying to gather himself, then continued, "As for Julie, she... had to run an errand." He didn't stop at Silph's gobsmacked reaction and begrudging concluded, "Won't you listen to us now?"

Silph toppled back in his seat, submissive—but only for the moment. "Fine, only if you get to the point. I don't have time for a sale's pitch."

And Kade did just that, strangely enough, sighing, "Daken wants to end this petty competition between Silph Co. and Briskomy."He said this while examining his fingernails, not even glancing Silph in the eye; he seemed so pathetically sure of himself. "That is was I come before you, President Silph, in the hopes that you'll consider a merger: two companies fusing as one, increasing both market power and profit margins. What do you say?"

A dirty looked crossed Silph's features, which wasn't very reassuring. He leaned inward and hissed, "You want to combine Briskomy and Silph Co.?"

Kade craned his neck, grinning wildly. "Can you name a better mix?"

"Logic and booze," Silph answered the rhetorical with a rather cold-blooded retort. "If I had wanted to buy out your cheap excuse for a business, I'd have done it the second I made my first million off mechanical Pokéballs. It's our best, most successful product to date—something your company can never fitly emulate." The old coot leaned back in his chair, calmer and more confident than I'd ever seen him. "You see, I don't consider Briskomy a threat to my business. More like comic relief."

Kade finally spoke; his voice was shaky and heavy with emotion. Big mistake. "Are you suggesting our merchandise is inferior?"

Silph nodded. "Why else would you be here, begging for a partnership?"

"We are negotiating, not begging!", Kade protested, his voice cracking.

I watched as Silph's jaw flexed, his chest rising as he inhaled deeply. I think he was picking up on my unusual silence, for he narrowed his eyes before turning his gaze solely on me. "What's YOUR story?", he ground out through clenched teeth. "You haven't spoken a word this entire meeting. Are you deaf?"

His question was more harsh than concerned, so I didn't feel the need to reply. My answer would go mocked anyway, no different than Kade. Besides, my body didn't have the emotional capacity to register the need for panic or frustration. I only needed to watch and listen, at least for the time being.

Before Kade could speak on my behalf, Silph had decided he'd heard more than enough. He shot to his feet and pointed us to the door. "Get out of my office, the both of you."

Kade's face was boiling red, I'd never seen him so furious. He lurched to his feet in a hissy tantrum, "I'm not going anywhere, you pompous old—"

"Julie, I need security up here at once!", Silph repeated over and over into the intercom. "Julie, where are you?"

Kade pounded his fists on the desk. "We already told you she's gone, you buffoon! Or are you too senile to remember?"

I knew I could stay silent no loner, for I had Kade right where I wanted him. I quietly rose from my seat, gently grabbing my colleague by the arm. "Kade, drop it. Let's go."

But the stubborn politician wouldn't be handled. "No, I will not be made a mockery of—"

"We'll find another way," I whispered into his ear.

He froze, heeding my counsel, then spun to the door and composed himself. But as we started for the exit, he turned around and shouted across the room, "And for the record, you could never 'buy out' Briskomy! You couldn't afford us!" With that being his final snub, he ushered me into the hallway and slammed the office door shut behind us.

I could sense Kade's blood run sweltering hot as we waited for the elevator. The silence between us wasn't purposeful, he was just so deep-seated in his anger, couldn't take his mind off the humiliation he'd just endured. Who could blame him? Kade was an egomaniac, especially in the business world; but at least he was finally vulnerable to my influence.

"Remember how pathetic Miles looked when he begged us for OUR business?, I said slowly, measuring out the words.

There was a rather tense, reflective silence. He looked down to his feet, then breathed out the magic words, "You're in charge now, smarty-pants." He then glanced up at me from the corner of his eye. "What's our next course of action?"

Never one to be deterred, I artfully took the conversation to safer waters—or perhaps dangerous waters—and replied shortly, "We let loose a little steam and see where we go from there." My voice was careful but casual. "I'm going to teach you how to get your way, Kade; how to slip off your mask for a breath of fresh air."

There was a pause as Kade collected his thoughts. He raised his chin to me, eying me warily. He couldn't quite put together my words.

I simply smiled. "There's a factory connected to this headquarters, right?"

He softened a bit, his hard mood losing its edge at the sight of my malicious grin. "Metsuma, you're not thinking of—"

"We don't think about it, we just act," I answered quite simply, narrowing my eyes with a delightful sort of cunning.

He chewed on his lower lip, unsure. "Look, I adore scandals just as much as the next crook... but I'm not one to personally get my hands dirty, not like this!" I didn't expect nor wish to hear any of this from someone like him, yet he babbled on like the coward he was, "We could get thrown in prison for this, Metsuma! It's beyond illegal!" He laughed squeamishly, "You may not like it but we abide by a strict system—"

"Fuck the system," I gritted out viciously, giving him something to mull over, then we both stepped into the elevator.

I inspected our reflections in the gilded gold adorning the doors for a moment and smiled when I noticed his expression contort into a fiendish smirk. He'd reconsidered. He was on board. Time to move on to the next phase.

…...

A brisk breeze whisped along the sandy beach, revealing the precious aura of the luminescent evening. Calm waves bulged from the dark blue ocean, sending a stream of white foam rushing to the shore. Sitting under the dimming pink sky triggered by the deep orange sunset, Clint sat in his reeling thoughts. "Where are we?"

"You tell me," Agatha's voice cackled from nowhere in particular, a distant echo. "Don't you know your own conscience, Clint?"

Clint centered his focus and watched the waves fold and unfold along the coast in a most familiar fashion. Then... it dawned on him. "It's the Olivine Shore," he muttered quietly, forming an endearing smile. "Metsuma, Anna, and I would come here every summer as kids." He shot to his feet in wonder and turned on his heel. "How did—"

Before he could finish, two young boys flicked past like a blur, seemingly oblivious to his presence as they chased each other along the shoreline. Clint knew these boys. The nimble, bright-eyed one was himself, while the other... was Metsuma: a boy with little more than a mischievous but playful grin to define his youth. Simpler days.

"The water is your mind, jostling and tossing with free thought," Agatha's voice boomed from the unknown. "The beach could be reality…spongy and dry. Absorbent. Always there, seeming never to change, even though... the surface of the sand changes. Above it all, beautiful and unreachable is the pink and blue ink-stained canvas of the sky, a future yet to be realized."

Clint stared up at the colorful sky, then to the crescent waves, then finally to the two lads roughhousing in the sand like a couple of cubs. He watched his younger self laugh and struggle helplessly from underneath the curlier-haired boy , who had him pinned down by the wrists, imperious and primal as always. Even as a child, Metsuma had to be one to challenge the strength of others.

"Some things never change," older Clint murmured to himself, smiling nostalgically. He took a few steadying breaths, looking away from his memory. "What is going on—"

Agatha emerged from thin air just as he prepared to pose the question, matching his excitement with a knowing grin.

Her silence was all the answer he needed. He arched a suspecting brow. "You're not only channeler.. but you're a psychic now too?" When she didn't answer, he could only shake his head and gesture to his childhood surroundings, "I don't suppose the Book of Wraith played a hand in these unorthodox practices of yours?

"It was a parting gift, Clint," she replied distractedly, brushing a stray lock of her silky-golden hair from her eye. "I would have been rude not to make use of such elaborate knowledge. I owe everything to that book. It helped me to curb my obsession with the spirit world... and find a more natural means to inherit the powers of Ghost Pokémon. They flow through me now, hence everything you see here." She gestured to the setting as he had earlier, continuing, "It's perfectly harmless, for even if I intended harm, the spirits would immediately dissociate from me and this connection we share would be severed. Your mind and soul are safe, rest assured."

"Yeah, well, don't get any prank ideas," he chuckled, sounding mildly annoyed and baffled at the same time.

After a moment's pause, Agatha seated herself in the sand, eyes turned up to her brother-in-law. "Now that we've broken off contact with the outside world, we can proceed." She motioned a hand in front of her. "Come, sit down. Relax."

Before he could do so, Agatha's Gastly appeared with a levitating tea kettle and a pair of levitating tea cups, both filled to the brim.

Slowly, Clint slouched to his knees, taking the teacup with a perplexed expression. He looked down at his steaming hot beverage, bottom lip quivering. "Is this... real tea?"

Agatha shrugged as she sipped from her own helping. "Who cares? You're unconscious, remember?"

He continued to stare at it a bit longer... but eventually decided it was useless to try and make sense of it. Instead, he happily drank up, untensed, then chortled somewhat sarcastically, "Ah, nothing beats imaginary tea on an imaginary beach."

Agatha raised her cup, complimenting the remark. "Now you're getting into the spirit of it!"

He smiled across to her, half in apology, but froze when a large weight sank to the pit of his stomach: something reawakened. He looked off the coral-tinged horizon and frowned. "Still... I shouldn't feel so lost in a place I can call my own." He was suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place, why Agatha wished to help him.

When she could no longer read him, the ghost trainer lowered her teacup and furrowed a prodding brow. "Are you ready to open up?"

Clint's voice grew quiet. Oddly, there was no sorrow or anguish in his tone. He simply sounded tired, weary and tired. "I don't know what I did wrong, Agatha." His eyes cast downward as he began to trace the grains of sand tacked to the bottom of his shoes. "I treated her like any good husband should. I gave her my love, my trust. How could she just... throw it all back in my face?"

"It must have been puzzling, the night she made her intentions clear," she answered in a small voice, all the while observing her environment, absorbing his subconscious thoughts. "You must have been scared."

"Scared?" Clint briefly pondered on the assumption, indulged, then just as swiftly dismissed it when he remembered who'd been there for him. "No, not really. I went to Metsuma right after. He calmed me down." He pulled down his shirt collar just enough to reveal the Earth Badge. "He even gave me this."

Agatha gleamed at the gift dangling around his neck, yet couldn't help but putter over the name, "Metsuma Rocket?" She let her gaze roam to the distance, settling on the rugged boy with black curls. It was all coming together now. "Yes, you mentioned him when we first arrived here. But from what Rita tells me, he's quite a winsome businessman."

He shook his head in earnest. "Yeah, he likes to put on an act for people."

"Even you?", she added with less force, yet eager to delve deeper into this spoken relationship. "Do you think he was just faking sympathy when you came to him in your time of stress?"

Clint just laughed off the assertion. "You'd think so... but no." Feigning a stern voice, he pressed, "Having him around was actually the best medicine."

This time, both of her eyebrows went up. "Was it something that he said?"

"I guess..." He licked his lips, searching for a better, honest response. "Not really, actually. It was more just him being there." He swallowed his cowardice and said firmly, "Come to think of it, every time I mess up in some way, I go to him. Heck, I spent almost eight years trying to get him to forgive me for something that nearly shattered us. And when he finally came around, I didn't feel so alone or broken anymore."

Agatha scanned his thoughts and gave him a warm grin. "He's your safe place."

"Yeah," he answered smoothly, brushing his temples in thought. "Despite his flaws, he's just so independent and strong and—"

Agatha corked her head, expecting him to finish his sentence, but he didn't.

Instead, he quite simply trailed off in another sentence, "I think his sense of fearlessness always came as some sort of comfort to me—inspiration, even." He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling or blushing, but ended up breaking out in laughter, "Huh! Even as kids, when we were living with Wade, I used to... well... I used to have these nightmares and I would sneak into Metsuma's room and curl up on the floor." He shook his head dumbly, reflecting, "Ah, he wouldn't even know I was there." He then glanced up at Agatha. "Is that weird?"

"I don't know," Agatha extended in that smoky, silvery voice of hers. She rubbed her chin in thought, then baited him, "Do YOU think it's weird'?"

"Not really," he said with a shrug, giving a gleeful smile—so sure of his words. "He's like my brother. I think it's sweet." He took another sip of his tea and then rotated his head, looking towards the wet of the shore, where the two boys sat side by side, watching the orange sun sit timelessly on the horizon.

…...

The mangled, deflated corpse of the innocent mining foreman lay slumped against the cave wall of the underground campsite, nearly desiccated now. The extremities were beginning to crumble, giving off an awful stench. It was a bloodied, messy scene and Anna could barely hold herself together as she followed Peer into the crime scene, bile filling her throat.

The uneven paving stones beneath them were slicked with blood, but the body up ahead was changing though, withering like a flower, as if the steam of the mines had stolen the moisture from his body. "It looks like our fiendish friend really was in neighborhood," Peer sighed, whiffing the rotted air. He then inched closer to inspect the body, careful not to alter the crime scene. "Looks like our victim didn't put up much of a struggle."

Anna pushed her hair back from her face, slicked as it was with sweat, it was starting to stink from her vomit, and the taste stung the back of her throat. She could take the smell no longer.

But as she turned to retreat, Absol nudged her ankle, comforting her. The Pokémon was clearly just as devastated as she was... but wasn't about to let its Master wimp out of catching a notorious criminal.

Smiling gratefully to her Pokémon partner in crime, Anna nodded and took a deep, calming breath. She clipped her nose with her fingers and returned to Peer's side, whom observed her rather warily. She tried to avert his good eye.

He was persistent, however, and quirked a silver brow. "I thought you said dead bodies didn't bother you."

She shrugged, forcing a slight grin. "I can handle the body," she lied. "It's the stench that's killing me!"

Before Peer could press up his concern, Detective Jordie entered the campsite, but immediately froze as the scene of death traveled to his nostrils. "Holy Arceus, that stinks worse than Gloom and Skuntank rolled into one!", he groaned, wadding away the smell with a free hand. "It's bad enough these mines lack proper ventilation!"

Peer glanced up to their visitor. "Do we have a positive I.D. on the victim yet?"

Jordie pinched his nostrils together, then nasally read from his clipboard, "His name is Spade Bitumen. He was the foreman of this mining operation." He glanced up briefly. "According to his wife, the one you saw sobbing outside, Spade came into conflict with the Soul Robber and lost everything to him. When Spade tried to resist Landon's demands... well... I'm sure you can piece the rest together for yourself."

Peer nodded, then politely dismissed Jordie, "Get forensics in here, if you'd please. The crime scene is secure."

Jordie raced off to fulfill his task, leaving the two special agents to reenact the crime in their heads using Jordie's data to fill in the gaps. Surprisingly, Anna was at a loss.

Peer focused hard on the body, stroking his goatee as he organized the details in his mind. "Landon was recruiting people to his cause," he immediately calculated, a genius at work. "Landon knew exactly what he was doing. He was very much in control of the situation, it seems. Whatever his motives, they're clearly enlightened. He sees himself as a fearless and innovative leader, not a deranged psychopath. Then again, most psychopaths do."

Anna lowered her gaze to the cold cave floor, whispering to herself. "If that's true, this is seriously going to undermine my accomplice theory."

Though she was sure he'd heard her, Peer seemed rather distracted with something else. "But why would he be gullible enough to come back to Sinnoh?", he pondered aloud. "Is he too prideful for his own good?"

Anna laughed at him. "He got away, didn't he?"

He grinned, seeming to change his dazed look almost immediately. "Yes, he certainly did—and he took with him an army of angry coal miners. If he didn't have accomplices before, he definitely has quite a collection now." Still, he continued to stare down at Spade's lifeless husk, his curiosity resurfacing—but for an entirely new reason now.

Anna quickly caught wind of his lull and moved closer beside him, hoping to see exactly what he was gawking at, "What is it?"

"Something else isn't right here."

She blinked slightly, looking as confused as ever. "What, you don't think Landon did this?", she heckled, choking on her own ridiculing laughter. "Are you kidding me?"

He waved off the implication, never looking away from the corpse. "No, no, I'm almost positive this was Landon's handiwork." He knelt to the gravel, motioning to the chest wound—where blade had pierced flesh. "What stumps me is how haphazardly this body was sundered, very reminiscent to that of Landon's first victim found on Floe Island."

Anna squatted down and nodded, her mouth forming the shape of a marveling 'O'.

"Landon's mother, on the other hand, was found with a smooth, precise puncture wound. The incision was flawless, remember?", he said quietly, his face strangely blank. He leaned away for a second, so caught up in his ruminations that the stench hardly affected him anymore. "Now we're on victim number five... and it's like he's an amateur again—a novice."

"Well... hang on a second." She bit her lip, slightly, doing everything in her power to keep this investigation from becoming any more complicated and convoluted than it was already. As much as she liked solving crimes, she rathered Landon be thrown behind bars as soon as possible. "Maybe he was in a rush killing this poor guy."

"He was in a rush to kill his mother, wasn't he?", Peer reminded. And he made a valid point, much to his credit. "Hmm... we may have to reassess the body pattern because something here just doesn't add up."

Anna bit her bottom lip, thinking it through, though her mouth curled into a smirk as she thought of a possible answer. "... or maybe my accomplice theory was right all along?", she inquired, sighing a little—sounding resigned, though she did not feel it that much. She didn't really need an answer. The dull, thumping pain in her head was enough to tell her that Peer would scold her, but still she asked, if only to make conversation. "I mean that with all due respect, sir. I know I keep bringing it up but—"

"Anna, I'm on your side, believe me," he started, and Anna made no effort to quieten him, nor object to his comforting claim. "I fully support your theory. But for now, it's only just that: a theory. Nothing more." He stood up and stepped aside, giving her a full view of the corpse. "This right here is field work, not a debriefing. Understand?"

"I understand, sir," she recited obediently, though could not hide an unpleasant frown. She felt stupid for having twice brought up something not to be spoken of outside the precinct.

As she turned to leave, he caught her by the wrist and stated simply, "Keep your chin up, Anna." He grinned gaily, inspiring a grin of her own. "We'll sort this out. I promise. But let's wrap up this crime scene first."

Her smirk widened with his; she did not feel like she was mistaken when reading his face. In fact, he looked rather proud of her in his own dry, goofy way.

…......

A little ways deeper into the western region of the complex, we had to duck aside to avoid being spotted by another batch of local security guards patrolling the premises. We darted down an empty side foyer that turned out to not be a foyer at all. It was a walkway, a bridge that was retracted at the moment, that oversaw a vast chamber. I immediately knew we were in the right place, my visceral instincts were spot on as always.

It was a Pokéball factory—and a rather busy one, at that. Down below us spanned a maze of conveyor belts and manufacturing machines. The noise of crashing metal and moving parts rang so loud it was nearly deafening. And all around us bright sparks flickered and molten metal sizzled. I could instantly tell Kade was impressed by the sight: the bustle and hustle and the smell of industry. This was all familiar territory to him. Except this place competed in size with our own manufacturing plants.

"We could do with factories like these," he whispered aside to me in a longing voice, little to my concern. His lanky, polished hands wrapped around the rails of the catwalk, his ranking eyes roaming the vault with a certain intensity in them—intensity I'd never seen in a man like him before. This would surely work to my advantage.

I gazed down vapidly with waning interest as the happily working masses of Machokes and Primeapes labored fluently over fast-moving production lines off of which Pokéballs of all colors and descriptions rolled into press. Amongst it all, the odd Geodudes hovered, carrying piles of tinted metal between the different levels, supervised by men and women in hazmat suits. "Putting Pokémon to work, eh?", I mused to myself, grinning admiringly. "Maybe Silph's not as senile as I thought."

Kade corked his head to me, brows raised anxiously. "How do you propose we do this?", he asked in an unusually sharp tone. He was eager, I could see that much.

I folded my hands just under the tip of my chin, forbearing. "There's an old saying, 'if you can't beat them, join them." I drew a smile and stepped up against the rail, blinking my eyes shut. "Personally, I prefer the reverse method."

"Just what are you doing?", rasped Kade; I could feel him motionless behind me. "Let me guess... more 'divine intervention'?"

I extended my right arm outward, flagging him off. "The less questions you ask, the better. I suggest you step back into the shadows for this little trick." As I felt him draw back from me, I cracked my knuckles and clenched my eyes shut tighter, gathering more psychic energy from the core of my mind. It was time to experiment with another one of Wade's forbidden alchemies, one I'd been saving for just such an occasion.

…...

The factory workers arched their heads to the scaffold, where President Silph stood leaning against the metal rail, observing operations from his perch.

The factory supervisor, dudded up in a protective suit like his employees, was the first to speak. He drummed his gloved fingers nervously against one of the machines, as if expecting some kind of punishment. "President Silph?", he barely found his voice. "To what do we owe the pleasure, sir?"

Silph simply smiled down at his loyal staff, extending his arms to the ceiling. "You've all been working so hard to keep production going." His smile deepened to something curious. "Why not shut down for a while and take the rest of the afternoon off?"

Stunned, the supervisor glanced around his Pokémon workers in sheer wonderment, then refocused his gaze on Silph. "S-Sir? Come again?"

"You heard me," Silph quietly pressed. He was acting in an unusually calm manner than what these employees were familiar with.

"But President Silph, we have a criteria that must be met," the overseer spoke again, this time in a whimsy voice. "Can we really afford to shut down operations on such short notice?"

Silph crooked his jaw, then leaned back into the shadows. His tone turned cold. "You're welcome to consider it an order, if that helps."

After a speechless moment of decisiveness, the factory laborers immediately dropped what they were doing, turned off their machines, then raced to the exit in cheerful excitement, leaving behind a multitude of vacant work stations. Only 'Silph' remained, surveying the scene from above.

…...

Once the coast was clear,, Kade stepped out from behind me, extending me a befuddled expression. "Would you care to explain to me what just happened?", he pouted in his honeyed, epicene tone. "Why did they think you were that crazy old man upstairs? You bear no resemblance to Silph at all!"

With a slow, calculated smile, I pivoted on my heel. "Looks can be deceiving," I riddled, the pitch of my voice a blatant contrast to his. For some reason, I just loved that my voice always sounded harsh and brittle next to his. "One whist adjustment of the cerebral cortex and the eyes suddenly see anew."

He simply stared at me as though I were a tongue-twisting lab geek. "Would you care to rephrase that?"

It was obvious I'd have to give him another demonstration, so I flashed a glowing hand over his frozen set of eyes, taking his membrane by total surprise.

His expression suddenly broke like a knife caught him in the ribs.

I didn't let up with my hand motions. "When you fiddle with one's mind, you can just as easily fiddle with their sense of perception," I stated coolly, watching him totter under my spell as I altered his neural impulses and wrestled his vision into submission. "It's like dispensing hallucinogenic drugs into your system... but without killing any brain cells."

He was bare in expression for just a second more, then began gawking, for he truly believed he was pooling into the worn, cryptic eyes of President Silph. He looked just as fooled as those gullible factory laborers.

As he reach forward to touch, I jerked my hand down to my side with one swift motion and he snapped awake. I smiled. "It was first perfected by an advanced species of Pokémon... but I won't bore you with the details." It was a history lesson I knew he wouldn't fancy; more importantly, there was little more time for fun and games.

He teetered against the rail for a moment, fetching his bearings, then glanced back at me with a questioning look plastered on his glossy face. "Hypothetically speaking, could one get a high off your... abilities?" He was digressing bacl to his college days, no doubt.

I couldn't help but chuckle—what a foolish question. "Sure, if you're prepared to risk having your brain implode like a neutron star!" I waved him off dismissively, still cackling to myself, then concluded as an afterthought, "I'm still just getting the hang of this, Kade. A headache would be the least of your worries."

He grinned at me quizzically, then shook his head and dudishly sighed, "I will never understand you."

"Let's keep it that way," I mumbled, brushing past him. I drew my attention below the overpass, to the constellation of samely machines sprawled out across the unattended infrastructure. "Now on to the main event."

I felt Kade back pedal to the shadows once more, better safe than sorry. He was clearly still skeptical about all of this, but he'd soon have a change of heart.

In one fleet motion, I hopped up onto the railing. I then leapt from the catwalk and from Kade's prying eyes, landing hard, my knees curling to touch the floor to absorb the shock. It didn't hurt in the slightest, though I still reminded myself I'd have to master the art of levitation one day; it would make these outings fare a lot smoother.

Looking on carefully to the assembly line, I proceeded to reach into my suit for a Pokéball. I flexed my fingers around the chosen capsule and could feel the adrenaline pulsing impatiently at my neck, could smell the musky scent of the room. The quiet was vast, the machines listless. Everything was in place.

I sent my Ultra Ball twirling in the air, then took a few casual steps forward to greet my apprized Zangoose. Bloodshot eyes met my own and I assumed only a dark smile, for no explanation was necessary. Any time I called on Zangoose, it was for the usual sole purpose: to destroy and dispose.

At the barreling snap of my fingers, my savage servant lunged across the shop floor, to the nearest Pokéball conveyor. It was time to do some real damages against that fool Silph. Zangoose sprinted down the aisle, claws skating ineffectually across the conveyor belts, shredding machine into scrap as a trail of smoke crested from the Pokémon's sundered path.

I flicked my gaze rightward to find Kade descending down the catwalk, an intrigued smile now eating away at the last of his doubts. I barely had the opportunity to invite him to the demolition before he whisked a Pokéball from the hidden cranny of his belt and slung it across the factory floor, laughing so manically, it was like music filling my ears.

Before I knew it, Zangoose's rampage was joined by the aquatic acrobatics of Starmie, a Pokémon I would have never guessed to be under Kade's ownership. I observed closely as the violet sea-star twirled left and right like a aerial ballerina, hosing through machinery with relentless Hydro Pumps, each blow brimming with enough pressure to sear through the Great Wall of China.

Not only was I was impressed with such display of power and ferocity, I was impressed that Kade had kept his slave undisclosed from both fellow board members and the public eye after all these years. Perhaps he had more than a few skeletons—or Pokémon—in his closet. Maybe he and I had more in common than I initially thought.

As both Pokémon tore through Silph's industrial palace like tinfoil, I made my way to the circuit box across the room and pulled the power lever, reactivating the conveyor belts mid-wreckage. A fountain of sparks erupted from the protesting machines as damaged Pokéballs spilled onto the belts, scattered and disorganized. Static hissed from the metal works, thermal smog polluting every inch of the vault. However... it still wasn't enough.

Closing my eyes, I could feel the simmer psychic energy building up in my body, sustaining it. All around me, glass and machinery began to crack and diffuse, irreparable beneath my strength. I reached further, focusing my core energy, as raw power exploded out of me like an invisible time bomb.

The machines around me began to detonate with my powerful blasts, perforated Pokéballs and other defective merchandise raining down from each blowout. I focused harder. Glass shattered, walls caved in, as the last of the conveyor belts went up in a plume of toxic flames. The world around me—Silph's world—was now crumbling under a sea of devastation, yet I continued to yield every last bit of excess power within me.

All my exerted energy began to enshroud the factory floor, absorbing the environment to my will. Crackling flames ripped across the vault, shreds of metal sprinkling from every which way. The odor of some kind of radiation was undeniable, but I shrugged it off. I wasn't threatened, for I was the most powerful presence in the room in that triumphant moment.

Time seemed to slow, muting everything in sight. I stilled and breathed in the chaos, my vision going numb. The spoilt Pokéballs covering the floor around me rocked unsteadily, dancing to the rhythm of my mental spell, which now held the factory in a cradle of death. And as the dots and stars cleared from my eyes, my vision caught a several flashes of silver, bursting to life right in front of me.

The series of concussive blasts nearly threw me off my feet; as it was, I barely managed to keep my balance, gripping the wall behind me to remain standing. Smiling proudly to myself, I swung my head around, looking for something, anything to focus on. The explosions had partially blinded and deafened me, yet I could hear the faint siring of alarms echoing from the foyers upstairs.

I lunged from my repose and grabbed Kade's arm. After recalling our Pokémon, we started sprinting, the explosions of bursting flames decimating the floor behind us. At the last second, I used an Aura Sphere to blow a breach into the wall nearest us, allowing us both to slip from the disaster site before the last combustion could take root.

…...

I inhaled the fresh air, letting it filter through the lingering spoors of chemical radiation. Kade frolicked behind me as we stealthily shouldered our way into an abandoned alley beyond the crumbling factory. Shoulder to shoulder, we ducked behind a nearby dumpster, laughing incessantly like a couple of devious jackals as the crackle of flames hissed in the distance.

Kade's eyes shut, splattering tears all over me, rolling and laughing uncontrollably against the dumpster. "Metsuma, that was an absolute hoot!", He howled, slapping his sides jollily. "This was more delectable than when Rita and I used to joyride through campus on a helicopter!" He caught his breath and sat up straight, nudging me with his pointed elbow. "You annihilated that factory with your hocus pocus, you wizardly dog! I simply can't wait to see the look on Silph's face!"

There was an honest look to his visage, so I contained my laughter. "You weren't so bad yourself, Sorhagen," I managed, grinning to express my approval, which for once wasn't a fabrication. "I didn't think you had it in you." Averting his eyes for a glancing second, I lowered my voice to a miniscule whisper, murmuring to myself, "I just wish Clint were as open-minded..."

He was about to reciprocate, judging by the unusually friendly expression on his face, but failed to form words above the piercing sound of police sirens wailing in the air. We exchanged amused looks and peaked over the dumpster to watch the scene of chaos come to an arrest.

But surprisingly, the fire department had not yet arrived, only the police. They had their firearms and Pokéballs drawn to the wreckage, oddly enough. I squinted harder, trying to unravel just what was going on... but blanched when I spotted what appeared to be an army of overgrown Pokéballs filing out from the smoke and radiation, each engulfed in a static veil.

"VOLTORB!", One of the mutated Pokéballs screeched, then detonated on the spot, blowing back a wave of police officers.

Another explosion promptly followed, then another, setting off a chain-reaction, and the ground rumbled like a freight train. Wrenching screams suddenly tore through the smog-riddled sky, sheer terror in their voices as both fire and lightning consumed the area, sending officers and passing civilians alike into a frenzy against the wake of this unstable breed of conscious energy.

One by one, more of these strange, identical androids rolled their way out of the debris, either flitting off into the city or self-destructing on sight. The rally of police officers and their Growlithes, meanwhile, warily held their ground, panicked, for they hadn't the foggiest of what they were up against—and neither did I, for that matter.

Watching all this unfold, I drew back a few inches, my jaw slack. I couldn't believe nor articulate what the hell I was witnessing... and yet I couldn't look away, for this truly was history in the making. It wasn't until I felt Kade tap my shoulder did I arouse and turn my head.

He was just as expressionless as I, barely able to compose a coherent sentence. "D—Did we just... create a new species of Pokémon?"

I licked my lips... then nodded my head slowly, for it seemed like a worthy conclusion to draw; while I couldn't piece it together logistically at the moment, it all just sort of fell into place.

He swallowed, eyes narrowed. "Is THIS what you meant by showing Silph who's boss?"

"No," I shook my head dismissively, a smile erecting from my blank stare. "This is how you play God."

"Fabulous," he whispered in a voice much like mine, ethereal and wispy. A smirk of his own soon materialized, a slow reptilian thing, as he looked on to the mayhem.

I briskly turned my own attention back to the wreckage, where this new species of artificial intelligence dawned from our accidental design—and a funny thought entered my mind, "If chaos can take life, I suppose it can give life as well."

…...

Near the base of Mount Coronet, Eden dismounted Virizion and covered her mouth, tears coming to her eyes as she looked at the thicket of maimed and crippled Budews and Cherubi crawling to safety. "Who could have done this?"

Enraged, Virizion rushed to the injured Pokémon with a vengeful grunt, carefully ushering them to the safety of some nearby bushes... but not without snorting a question.

Eden remained where she stood, not wanting to frighten the little critters, but held out her ear to their conversation with Virizion.

"B-B-Budew...", one of the wounded Budews groaned in response to Virizion, barely conscious and barely stable.

Frowning, Virizion looked back towards Eden, whispering with shades of dander, "Two young human males passing through these woods invaded their turf... then proceeded to terrorize them." The Legendary Pokémon kept silent for a moment, letting the information sink in, then reluctantly continued to translate, "One of these humans had a head full of bristly green hair, wielding ethereal blades like that of glowing katanas."

Eden felt her heart skip a beat. "Cayman was here?", she asked, her tone a cross between shock and excitement. "How long ago? Which way did he go?"

Virizion returned its gaze to the Budew, communicating Eden's question.

The browbeaten rosebud rocked dizzily in place, ready to faint, but managed to squeal out in a prolonged breath, "B-B-Budew... Bud... Bud—" Unable to get out the last word, the Pokémon collapsed on the spot.

Virizion lowered its curled horns, delicately nudging the fainted Pokémon's stubbly body into the bush with its brethren. The grassland guardian then reeled around to answer Eden's question. "They were headed for the other side of this mount, towards Oreburgh City."

Eden stared in a bland daze. "He's still in Sinnoh after all," her words tumbled out softly, like a strange confession. "But if he truly is connected to the crimes in Oreburgh like the rumors say, why in the world would he go back there?"

Virizion raised a hoof, as if to assert command. "He mustn't get away with what he's done."

Eden glanced up at the Pokémon, shaking her head repeatedly. "Our objective for now is simply to find him, not punish him."

"You said yourself we had to resolve this problem," Virizion sniffed back.

"We will, Virizion," she replied, smiling. "Just be patient." Slowly, she glided over to her ally of justice, rubbing its left antler gently in an up and down motion. Her voice was as soothing as a spring breeze. "Now then... shall we ride to Oreburgh?"

…...

Accompanied by her Absol, Anna found Peer grazing outside the Oreburgh Gate, absorbing the desolate nature around him. She didn't waste time delivering her updates. "Our techs are doing one last forensic sweep of the mining campsite." She kicked her heel into the reddish dirt, humming casually, "I figure now is as good as time as any to... I don't know... swap theories?"

He barely acknowledged her. His eyes seemed to be roaming the mountains with passionate intent.

Chuckling, Anna moved next to him and arched a brow. "What are you doing?"

"Sightseeing," he replied with a dry, old-man smile.

"Really? Sightseeing?" She rolled her eyes. "What's there to see in this dump of a town?" Safe to say, she wasn't impressed with Oreburgh like Peer was. To her, the area was but a lord cradle of cliffs, rocks, and mountains, littered with grubby caves and hidden caverns. It wasn't her forte.

Between his deep laughs, he managed to utter out, "It's actually a beautiful city, I just never gave it the respect it deserved." His smile widened considerably, almost nostalgically. "My job takes me to every corner of the world... but I rarely ever find the time to just stop where I am and get a feel for the scenery." Surveying the landscape a final time, he dipped to his knees and withdrew a freshly wrapped platter of sushi from his knapsack. "This is a nice spot."

Anna pushed back a loose strand of hair from her eyes and cleared her throat nervously. "Anyway, so, I'm thinking since we initially assumed our killer stole a boat, what if he really does have people—"

Peer shifted his gaze—but not to Anna. "How do you stand these large crowds of cops?", he wondered aloud, glossing over the stretch of police officers surrounding the city. He sighed indifferently, then returned to his meal. "I guess that's why I chose a more discreet means of catching criminals."

Anna couldn't help but stare at him as though he'd lost his noggin. Nonetheless, she further pressed up her theory, despite the unprofessional chit chat he was producing. "Oh, so, anyway, I was thinking, maybe it's possible Landon—"

Without meeting her gaze, he asked at random, "Do you like Sushi, Sargent Lafleur?"

"I—I don't know." Casual small-talk between two agents of the law during the middle of an investigation was clearly unfamiliar territory for her. She wasn't used to social engagement while conducting field work. "Anyway, uh, we have some of the names of the stolen ferry's missing passengers. I can cross-reference some names of—"

When Peer's chopsticks reached for the sushi, he carefully placed only a bit of it in his mouth, just to have a taste. His eyes narrowed sharply at the immediate explosion of his taste buds. "Absolutely scrumptious," he purred as he munched on a mouthful of Magikarp sashimi. "What I like about sushi is the fish, not the rice. Kind of ironic." He collected another clump of rice with his chopsticks and raised it towards Absol, "What do you think, Absol?"

Anna pretended not to notice, instead drawling on without rest, "—so we could cross-reference those names against the rental logs—"

The mountain mammalian slurped down its offered helping of rice in one gulp, wagging its scythe-like tail appreciatively as Peer continued to chow down.

Finally, Anna pivoted, shooting Peer a glaring look. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

Without so much as glancing up at her, the wise-cracking special agent clipped back in an uninterested tone, "Not one word." He rotated his head to her puzzled expression, offering a tired smile. "It's two-o'clock, Sergeant. I always stop and eat lunch at two-o'clock. You'll come to learn that about me." He gestured a hand to the empty patch of grass beside him. "Why don't you sit down? You look tense."

Absol nodded its head in agreement, taking sides with the clever commandant.

She hesitated, biting anxiously on her lip. "Shouldn't we be, I don't know, investigating? Doing our jobs? Putting together the pieces of this fucking unsolvable puzzle?"

He examined her, seemingly taking her words into consideration, then pointed one of his chopstick up at her. "You're very fidgety," he inferred, titling his head curiously. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

Again, she rolled her eyes to the sky. "Yes, my father," she sighed. "What, are you applying for the position?"

"Not at all," he rebutted quickly, not willing to exhale anymore than he had to. "Just making an observation."

She paused for a moment, eying her superior sourly. "Wait, are you criticizing me for wanting to do my job?"

He nodded while shrugging his shoulders. "It's two-o'clock... so yes, I suppose I am."

Anna fidgeted where she stood for a second, about ready to detonate. "Look, Agent Peer, I'm at a dead end with this accomplice theory," she blurted out in her blistering tongue, pacing back and forth nervously. "I was about ready to shrug it off until you got my hopes up again. Catching this killer is no longer just a hobby, it's a necessity, which might explain why I rarely ever see my son anymore, not to mention my pathetic, unemployed husband who couldn't start a business if his life depended on it and grovels at the feet of my wealthy, successful best friend—you know, the same one who shuts me out from his life at every turn. So forgive me for being a little fidgety, but if it's lunch we're talking, I'm gonna eat a fat juicy steak, and I'm sure as shit gonna eat it with my family at home than in this wasteland with you—"

"Anna," he cut her anecdote short in a calm but scolding voice.

She stamped her foot to the ground and stopped pacing, swiveling around to face him. "What?!"

"I already pieced together the puzzle when we were leaving the mines," he explained patiently, his tone clearly unaffected by her emotional meltdown. "Pamela Kace's stab wound doesn't match that of the other victims because someone else likely killed her, someone with more experience and precision. I suspect this other killer is Landon's accomplice. That's why I'm going to reinspect the photographs from Pamela's crime scene just as soon as we're finished here." He smiled timidly. That was it again—his warm and sincere smile. "Long story short, your theory is far from dead."

Anna's jaw unclenched, relaxing. Shock and disbelief flooded her face. And in a barely audible murmur, she inquired quietly, "H-How did you figure all that—"

His smile never withered. "I may be old, Anna, but I'm ahead of the curve. We're going to catch our culprit, I promise you."As if nothing had been said between them, he casually returned to his sushi. "But first, I'd like to finish my lunch."

Feeling like an ass, Anna lowered her head and murmured beneath her breath, "Why am I such a fucking bellyacher?"

"We're all allowed to be the occasional... bellyacher," Peer heckled in haughty reply. He held an expression that was almost kind upon his aging features, warm and friendly, putting Anna at ease. "I told you to keep your chin up, remember? That was an order."

She had to admit she felt more relaxed than ever, more certain and secure in the presence of someone so intelligent, proficient, and respectful. She had lacked that kind of positive influence in her life for as long as she could remember... so it was understandably hard to adjust. But she yearned to warm up to it, for Peer was just so... different. But in a good way.

Like before, Peer motioned a hand to the spot next to him. "You've been on your feet all day. Now take a rest."

She matched his expression with a wry smirk and finally surrendered to his orders. "You're such a parent," she sighed in earnest, crouching between him and Absol. "It's a little creepy... but at the same time... it's useful, helpful even... which is weird since you're like... the opposite of me." She felt foolish for opening up with such poor, miserable wording. "What I mean to say is... our pairing might seem illogical to some."

He didn't seem to mind, however. "Well, sometimes opposites create something new... and the call to a mutual interest is to embrace the new."

"Get that off a fortune cookie?", she mumbled, furrowing her brows comically. The cold but gentle breeze ruffled her electric blue hair, which blew against her pale cheeks. She wrapped her jacket more tightly around her torso, fending off the wind.

Peer promptly removed his own flack jacket, draping it around her shoulders. "Here, take mine. I don't mind the breeze."

She looked at him, trying to hide the affection glinting in her eyes. "There's something my father would never do," she laughed, hugging the jacket tighter around her uniformed body.

But his pithy brown eyes seemed to smolder with sincerity as she helplessly drowned in his gaze. He didn't break eye contact. He didn't look away at all. He just stared relentlessly into her amber eyes, pinning her in place with only his gaze. He looked extremely calm, as if he wasn't fazed at all by her true character. This person was everything she could ever hope to aspire to become.

Suddenly, Detective Jordie came bolting out of the Oreburgh Gate... and the meaningful moment quickly festered away. "Hey, you guys been listening to the news?", He huffed, pausing in front of them as a portable radio rasped in his palm. "There was a huge factory explosion back in Kanto! They're saying a bunch of Pokéballs-turned-monster spilled out from the wreckage and began detonating all over Saffron!"

Anna looked to Jordie in astonishment, then extended to Peer a questioning smirk. "What moron turns basic Pokéballs into sentient bombs?"

…...

"What genius turns basic Pokéballs into sentient bombs?", Kade's voice was full of barely-contained excitement. "That would be you, my fabulous colleague!"

I wasn't one to pride myself habitually, so I dashly countered the compliment. "I can't take all the credit. You dealt your share of the sabotage, thanks to that Starmie of yours."

Naturally, he took the flattery in stride. His toothy grin was enough for me to confirm this—or perhaps he was just happy we'd bested Silph and gotten away with it.

Indeed, the disaster site that once presided as Silph's beloved industrial freehold was now a ways behind us. We treaded down the vacant alleyway with end in sight, as a sleek black company limousine pulled up smoothly to the curb up ahead, right on schedule. Unbeknownst to Kade, I'd arranged from the start for this little excursion of ours to end with a blowout. And it did—quite literally, too.

Kade opened the door for me, a gesture most uncharacteristic of him, yet I compliantly climbed into the passenger seat of the vehicle, his chuckling self clambering in after me.

As soon as the door shut behind us, our uniformed chauffeur stepped hard on the gas, steering us as far away from the area as speedily possible, lest we be linked to the scene of our deviously merry crime.

…...

"I think I know all I need to know about Metsuma for now," Agatha hummed, focus now drawn to another figure emerging from Clint's memories. "Describe your relationship with HER?"

Clint reeled his head to where Agatha's finger was pointed and spotting a somewhat thin, yet, sturdy outline of a young girl progressing ever so carefully from the orange glint of the sunset. She chased young Metsuma and Clint along the coast, trying her hardest to keep up with them. "She could always to catch up with me," he chuckled to himself, nostalgic again. "It was Metsuma that was always... just out of arm's reach."

Agatha smiled. "She was the one we encountered on Floe Island, right? The one that was trying to take charge of the investigation?"

Clint's eyes brightened excitedly. He smirked, shaking his head as his thoughts pulled inward. "Yes, that would be Anna."

"She seems somewhat more gregarious than Metsuma," the ghost trainer commented, noting the curly-haired boy's rather evasive behavior towards the sprightly girl's socially prying advances.

Clint nodded, a grin spreading clear across his face. "She's pretty much the polar opposite of Metsuma, partly because she's always been very open with her feelings. I think that's what makes her so energetic and rambunctious." He observed how his younger self blushed in the girl's company... and muttered, "She and I had the biggest crush on each other as kids."

Agatha looked across to Clint. "You were attracted to her?"

Unmoved by her flashing eyes, Clint gave a somewhat feeble shrug of his shoulder "Yeah, I suppose. It made sense, you know? We'd always been close." He bit his lip, laboring to further explain. "But any romance we shared didn't amount to much. People thought it was because she moved away but—" He briefly cast his gaze down at the sand. "I... broke it off with her because I could see how much it hurt Metsuma. He wanted her more than I did. I couldn't let those negative emotions... unbalance him."

A look of surprise flickered in Agatha's haunting eyes. "Does she know this?"

Clint was instantly alert. "Are you kidding? If she ever found out Metsuma was jealous, she'd never live it down." His eyes again wandered to the trio of children at play, gazing upon Anna and Metsuma in particular. "Then again, those two are practically made for each other. I... always considered them a perfect match. Too bad nothing ever came of it." He shook his head and sighed, curling his fingers into the sand beneath him. "Metsuma's always been a very emotionally guarded person and I think that upset her."

"Just her?", Agatha pressed, reading deep into Clint's soul through every word uttered.

Clint gave a quick exhalation of breath as he scrubbed at his forehead in an almost childlike manner. "Okay, me too, I guess," he huffed, the most sensitive of emotions rousing within him. "He shut me out a lot, especially as we grew older. Then... when he left my life for what I thought to be forever... I was devastated. I... I had no one to turn to. I was angry with Wade, I'd lost contact with Anna. I just buried myself in my Pokémon Training and tried so hard to put the past behind me."

"But Metsuma never really left you, Clint." , Agatha countered in a sharp cackle. "You even tried to project that through my sister."

Now he was entirely dumbfounded, despite the answer being right in front of his nose. "How do you mean?"

Agatha was quick to resort to another technique. "I'll answer your question with a question." , She began, leaning inward. "What first drew you to Rita, Clint? Why did you pursue her?"

The answer spilled out of Clint before he could even realize what he'd said. "She was empty, shallow. To this day, she still is. I just thought—"

Agatha nodded. "You thought you could help her, that you could fulfill her. You wanted so hard to find the good in her. Now where do you suppose that stems from?"

Releasing another deep sigh, Clint shook his head, clueless. "I just don't know, I've thought like that for as long as I can remember."

"Look around, Clint," Agatha pried more fiercely. "We're here for a reason. Think harder. Where does your need to see the light in people truly derive from?"

Clint alternated his focus between Agatha and the two boys skylarking in the water like two inseparable brothers. And then it hit him like a ton of bricks. He clenched his jaw, inadvertently muttering his answer in his typical soft-spoken tongue, "M—Metsuma?"

With that, Agatha relaxed and her smile solidified, impressed with his progress. "Now was that so hard?"

…...

Cayman and Viper sat quietly on a rocky ledge not far from the mountain base, overlooking Route 208 and the mining town the dwelled beyond it. Below them, a trio of police officers and their Growlithes patrolled the road, barring anyone from entering the city without a thorough inspection. This was going to be complicated.

"The entire city's surrounded," Viper stated the obvious, gazing out to the distant but visible specs of bluecoats grazing on the other side of town. "Got any bright ideas?"

"Cool it, will ya?" Cayman hushed him with a pert hand gesture as he concentrated on the patrolmen waltzing up and down the pathway below their perch. "It's THOSE cops we need to worry about," he whispered. "They're blocking our only way into the city. If we can get passed them without attracting any attention to ourselves, we'll be aces."

Viper nodded his head decidedly and pushed himself harshly to his feet. "I'm going to hold you to that," he grunted, unclipping the Pokéball dangling from his belt. "Venonat, shower those officers with some of your Sleep Powder."

The Pokéball twirled in the air, followed by a brilliant flash of red. Cayman raised his arm to shield his eyes from the blinding light.

The fuzzball of an insect emerged with only whimper, careful not to make too much noise. "Veno... Venonat..."

Cayman lowered his arm and waited for the next course of action.

Sure enough, Venonat was already on the move. It bounced its way to the very edge of the craggy overhang and shook its body frenziedly as a cloud of tiny, glittering opiates oozed out from its furry, purple coat and descended over the unaware officers below, lulling them into a sure but gradual unconsciousness. This was promptly verified by the thuds of bodies hitting the ground.

Once Venonat had finished, Cayman peaked over the ledge and spotted just what he'd hoped for: sleeping cops and Growlithes littered everywhere. "Heh! Now we're talking!" He leapt acrobatically from his post and landed to the ground with a painless flutter, Viper climbing down behind him. "All we need to do now is find Anna's patrol car."

Viper gathered his bearings and motioned a hand to his Pokémon. "Venonat, use your Radar Eye to pick up any significant police activity."

"Veno!" The Pokémon looked on towards the city, vision penetrating through boulders and buildings and honing in on a condensed group of command vehicles in the far distance, each blinking red and blue lights. "Veno! Venonat!"

Viper immediately inferred from the jabber and turned to Cayman. "There's a mob of patrol cars stationed outside the mines."

"Yeah?" An unimpressed Cayman muttered, rubbing at his neck. He narrowed his eyes to their entrance and started towards his destination, weaving his way through slumbering bodies in a pompous stride. "Then let's do this."

Viper nodded, returned Venonat to its Pokéball, and stealthily chased after his cocky companion as they commenced their infiltration.

…...

"I think it's time for all units to check in," Peer suggested as he and Anna began to make their way back from their patrol of the Oreburgh Gate.

Anna sighed and scoffed at his behest. "I still don't see why we needed to form a perimeter around this city. The danger is long gone."

"Anna, it's simple procedure," he remarked dryly.

She rolled her eyes, then reached for her talkie. "Yeah, yeah... okay." She brought the radio to her lips, adjusted the frequency, then assumed her authoritative tone as she spoke into it. "Oreburgh Gym, this is Sergeant Lafleur. We're all clear up here. No sign of any unusual activity. Anything on your end?"

"All clear, ma'am," Officer Jenny's voice rapidly responded.

"Roger that." Again, she adjusted the frequency. "Oreburgh Mine, this is Sergeant Lafleur. All clear there?"

"Yup," the next officer sounded off. "All clear."

"Roger that." She quickly and gingerly repeated the pattern. "Route 207, all clear?"

Alas, no response.

She stopped cold, turned to exchange weary glances with Peer, then tried again. "Route 207, this is Sergeant Lafleur," she repeated into the device, her voice tight. "What's your status?"

Again, no response. Only static.

Peer watched her with uncertainty. "What's wrong?"

She looked up from the talkie nervously. "Our units stationed at Route 207 haven't checked in." After a moment's wait, she gave it one last effort, pressing the transmitter to her dry, quivering mouth. "Route 207, this is Sergeant Lafleur! Do you copy?"

Empty static, all the same. Loud and piercing. Something was wrong.

"God damn it!" Cursing repeatedly underneath her breath, Anna drew her firearm and bolted for the city entrance, shouting into her radio, "10-1, 10-1! We may have officers down at Route 207! Jenny! Jordie! Go check it out!"

Watching Anna and Absol spear off towards the mines, Peer motioned to his collection of special agents, "All of you, scatter this city! We have a dangerous visitor running amok!"

"Yes, sir!" They all complied at once, then quietly strewed off in separate directions.

Peer then raced onward, promptly catching up to Anna's side, sprinting evenly at her pace.

"I jinxed it, didn't I?", she huffed, feeling as guilty as sin.

"You make that sound like a bad thing!", he consoled her. "If Landon's really returned, now's our chance to seize him!"

…...

Camped out a mere twenty yards from the mining site, Cayman and Viper peeked around their outpost: one of the few buildings constructed on the outskirts of town. From their remote positions, they could distinctly make out the cluster of patrol cars based outside the mining caverns. Luckily, the area was unguarded for the moment; no sign of officers or Growlithes or anybody to secure the premises.

Viper turned his head to find Cayman surveying the site with envy. In a low, bridled voice, he asked his partner hushedly, "Are you sure about this?"

Cayman quickly broke contact with the mining site and briefly swept his gaze over Viper, chuckling. "Trust me, I won't fuck up this time!", he lowered his voice to a whisper, holding out his fist. "You have my word."

Viper paled at the gesture, unmoving as he stared down at Cayman's clenched vice in wonder. This was a ritual unfamiliar to him. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Seriously? You need to get out more, man." Cayman smirked with a derisive snort, mocking him as he stressed the gesture. "Take my word and bump my fist, dumbass."

Eying his cohort with a snake-like glare, the uptight teen responded to the offer with a vigorous fist bump that stung Cayman's knuckles something fierce.

Cayman clutched his throbbing knuckles with his other hand and hopped about in pain. "Ouch! I said bump, not punch!" He laughed off the brief burning sensation, shook his head waywardly, and reached for a Pokéball hanging from his waist. "Alright, enough of this sappy shit. Take this for safe measure so we can split up." He unclipped the ball from his belt and gingerly handed it over to Viper. "I have an idea."

Viper took the gift with objection rather than appreciation. "I already have a Pokémon on hand, in case you haven't noticed."

Cayman bluntly waved off the reminder. "Venonat's no connoisseur of the underground, in case YOU haven't noticed. You'll need brawn and boulder, not toxins and antennas."

"This just keeps getting better and better," the more stringent boy mumbled to himself, his gloved hand scantily grazing the Pokéball's round surface. He then glanced up to meet the calm of Cayman's orbs once more. "Alright, care to explain the rest of your ingenious plan, tough guy?"

"In case I get caught rifling through Anna's car, I'm going to make a run for the mines and draw the cops away from the area," Cayman quietly explained. "The diversion ought to give you enough time to—"

"—run in and loot the car myself," Viper unraveled the rest, arching a brow in wait of confirmation.

Cayman nodded, but kept on explaining, so full of energy. "Grab everything you can get your hands on. She's bound to have some case files lying around her trunk for travel purposes."

Viper's gaze then fell upon the unwanted Pokéball sitting in his hard, leathery palm. "And I suppose I'll have to use this to save your hind in case you don't make it out of the mines in one piece?"

Momentarily forgetting his surroundings, Cayman retorted with howling laughter. "Don't make me laugh! That's for YOUR protection, not mine!"

Viper narrowed his eyes impetuously. "Quit running that smug mouth of yours, soldier, and let's get on with this." He clasped Cayman's Pokéball to his utility belt in a disgruntled manner, then made to find cover behind the building, leaving Cayman to coordinate his first move by his lonesome.

Cayman clenched his jaw tightly and blew out a steady breath, watching his target from afar. He identified the trenchant colors of a particular patrol car that expressed the Sergeant's Rank... then briskly moved in on the mining grounds, senses alert to everything around him. He had to be vigilant, careful. It was the only way to not botch this assignment; no, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

He ducked his head low as he weaved his way through the maze of gendarme vehicles strewn about the fallow and desolate site, Anna's car locked in his sights. He called upon his Aura Blade and slowly approached the trunk, ready to 'pop it open'. He knew he'd have to substitute crowbars with his less-conventional weapon of choice. But there was nothing wrong with improvising.

With two swift but slipshod slashes of his blade, the lid of the trunk disintegrated to a pile scrap, revealing the designated compartment in all its glory.

Before Cayman could inspect, the car's high-pierced alarms suddenly went off in distress, sirening across Oreburgh for all to hear. "Shit!", he grumbled to himself in a panic, eyes wide and searching the trunk thoroughly. "Better get this over with!" But his prowling gaze stopped when it fell upon an all-too-familiar evidence briefcase, the very same one from his dream. He could only wince in disbelief. "Huh? No way..."

Much to his lessening notice, the sirens only continued to shrill out in terror, a beacon for every police officer in the city.

Cayman ignored it and reached for the briefcase. His mouth hung agape. "It's... the same evidence box from my dream! She DID have it!" He smiled wide for a moment, then frowned in bewilderment. "Which means... I wasn't dreaming?" Before he could so much as touch the lost item, a flurry of gunshots rang out around him, forcing him to draw back.

"Hey, you there! Freeze!" Anna was charging in at him from behind, backed up by her Absol and Special Agent Peer. She pulled out her talkie once she confirmed it was Cayman she was closing in on and shouted into the device, "I need uniformed backup! I have Landon Kace in my sights! He's armed and ready to engage!"

Recognizing the voice, Cayman swung around and dissolved his weapon. "Afraid not, babe!" Spotting more Police Officers converging on the scene, he gave a snarl of laughter, charged an Aura Sphere in his palms, then hurled it at Anna like a cannonball. "Think fast!"

Anna stepped back calmly. "Absol, intercept with Ice Beam!"

Absol immediately jumped in at her defense and fired a frosty emission to clash with the ball of crimson energy, evoking a blast of wispy, arctic haze to overcast the mining site.

Anna didn't bother waiting for the conditions to clear and raced in to capture her prey. She reached the trunk of her car to find her briefcase still intact, then looked beyond her vehicle to find the green-headed culprit retreating into the mining caverns. "After him!", she shouted over her shoulder. "He's headed for the mines! He's got nowhere to run!"

"Not as smart as he looks, apparently!", Peer chortled, firearm drawn. He signaled to his approaching officers and their Growlithes and personally led the entire task force head-on into the underground caves to give chase. "Everyone, stay in formation! Be cautious! Things could get ugly down here!"

Anna and Absol began to pursue their team, but stopped halfway to the caverns when Anna remembered she hadn't closed the trunk of her car, leaving her case evidence exposed and vulnerable. She quickly turned back and scurried towards the vehicle... but only to discover the briefcase was gone. "I-Impossible..."

…...

Lieutenant Ramsley's team was at the front of the procession. "He couldn't have gotten too far," he snapped to his backup as they all stopped in the forepart of the cave. Ramsley aimed his flashlight at the center tunnel that led down to the main campsite. "Quickly. Let's search this passage first."

Peer finally caught up to them, but was too late to override Ramsley's orders. "No, we should scatter! Better our chances of finding him!" His voice couldn't be heard beyond the ruckus as Ramsey and the rest of the search party rushed off into their designated tunnel, leaving Peer alone and embittered. "Alright, then," he sighed, moving in his own direction. "I suppose I'm on my own..."

The mines were dark, absorbing the illumination of his flashlight, leaving barely enough behind to see the ground under his feet. He had his firearm secure in his other hand, locked and loaded, but he knew it would do him no good if he couldn't see anything. And the uncompromising lack of ventilation certainly didn't help matters. He felt like he was breathing in hot hair and breathing out sulfur, it felt that explosive, his lungs protesting savagely with each exertion.

He took fragile steps as he progressed further down the mine, the hard soil crunching beneath his boots. "Landon, if you can hear me, consider what you're doing!", he called out, his voice echoing off the stone, cold walls around him. "I'm giving you the chance to come forth peacefully and surrender! No more people or Pokémon should have to suffer in the wake of your crime spree!"

Before he could press on, the sudden grinding of footsteps sounded from behind. Thinking on his feet, Peer reeled around and lurched at his attacker, pinning the culprit to the wall!

"Whoa, it's just me!", Anna choked out angrily, writhing beneath the strong arm padlocking her to the wall.

Peer shined the flashlight to her face and found the heartening gaze of those blue eyes he knew so well. Startled, he released his hold on her and jumped back, catching his breath. "My apologizes, Anna," he panted, chuckling. "I mistook you for Landon."

She took in a calming breath, trying to gather her bearings, and snorted, "And if I was, you were gonna what, wrestle me to death? Arceus! For someone twice my age, you've got a hell of a grip!" She pushed off against the wall and stepped to his flank. "Since Ramsey's leading the others on some wild goose chase, I thought you could use some back up. I used my Aura to pin down your location."

"Smart," Peer clipped back with a nod of approval, aiming his flashlight to a small tunnel deviating from his own. "Maybe you could use your gift to pin down Landon as well."

She took the hint and started down the separate passage. "Alright, I'll radio you if I find the bastard."

"Please, just be careful," he admonished, concern leafing over his face. "Make sure you have a competent deck of Pokémon on hand."

She could only laugh at this as she wandered off into pitch darkness.

…...

Hide! He had to hide! It was his only choice now, for he could sense his pursuers moving in on his position. If he tried to run and make a dash for the exit tunnel, he'd be setting himself up for an immediate ambush. He'd have to wait this out and hope for the best.

With a brief glance to the shadows suffocating him on all sides, Cayman darted off a final time, this time heading deeper into the mine shaft. Attempting to be as quiet as possible, he crept into the supply bunker and skulked his way behind a dirty aisle of mining crates. With any luck left on his side, the cops would neglect to search for him there.

But such luck, alas, was not on his side. Anna's voice whipped through the silence like a pistol. "You can't hide from me forever, Landon!"

Terror-stricken and half-sick on it, Cayman shrank down to the ground and concealed himself behind one of the crates, hugging his knees to his chest. "How could she have found me so easily?", he pondered quietly to himself. He bit his lip in contemplation, sweat thick on his brows. "Is she... an Aura User like me?"

"Landon... Landon," she enticed tauntingly, and her voice seemed to come from one side of the room and then another. She was teasing him, calling him out of his hiding place if only to seek another one.

Cayman knew he couldn't hold his ground for much longer. He narrowed his eyes, swallowed, then attempted to crawl his way up the next aisle and find better cover.

"Going somewhere, Landon?" Her voice seemed to be tailing him, filtering from one end of the cavern to the other as she paced, and the darkness all around seemed to seep into her, tainting her every word as she continued to speak to the penetrating shadows.

He stopped and scurried back to his original hiding place. His body stiffened behind his crated barrier as he heard noises filtering up from beyond his hideaway. She was stalking the aisles; he could practically see her shape in his mind's eye and the fire of fury glowing in her mismatched blue and chrome stare. "This crazy broad just won't give up," he realized with a hopeless sense of despair, that twisted anxiety within his chest. "Fuck."

"Landon," she called out a final time.

"Man, do I hate that name," he growled to himself, crushing his fists into the gravel beneath him. Finally, he screamed out in a blind fury, "It's CAYMAN! C-A-Y-M-A-N!"

"Let's get this over with," her voice drew closer, pinpointing his position more clearly. "Landon, it's over. You're done. Give in!"

Landon flared his nostrils, then whispered aloud, "Would you? In my position?"

She heckled over his silly question and bit back in a strong, fired-up tone, "I wouldn't be in your position, you sick fuck! Now hand over the briefcase!"

He didn't bother moving. He merely sat there, puzzled by her demands. "That's... all you want?" Something of a smile cracked at the corners of his lips. "We did cross paths once before, didn't we?"

There, a pause in the air. Her footsteps came to a halt. Her voice was absent. Everything became still, as if time had frozen.

Cayman chuckled smugly. "Yeah. That's what I thought. I knew I wasn't dreaming."

"Fuck," she cursed beneath a long, drawn-out breath. Then, to his astonishment, she belched out quite the opposite of what to expect, "You're as delusional as you are dangerous!"

Cayman restrained himself from exploding in outrage. It didn't matter anymore. He didn't care about that right now. "Come and find me," he baited her, knowing there was no way out of this. He curled even tighter against the crate, extending his hand out, ready to draw on his Aura Blade and do what he had to do for the sake of self-preservation. "Are you going to arrest me or not?"

She simply reiterated her demands. "I want that evidence first!"

"Not with me, sorry," he mocked in a friendly, conversational tone, hoping she'd charge at him with reckless abandon so he could strike her down once and for all. "Someone else has already taken care of that for me."

She sniffed, "Then what are you, just a doormat in all of this?"

"You got it all wrong!", he cried out in response. "All of this was MY idea! I'm the one in charge, bitch!"

Though he expected her to react with disappointment or surprise, she simply uttered out in a mean, ruthless tone, "You shouldn't have come back."

He took this as a challenge and summoned his blade without hesitation, the glow of the weapon fully exposing his hideaway. As he listened to her footsteps march nearer, he wiped the nervous sweat off his brow and readied to engage, using his Aura to gauge her movements, "That's it... just a little closer—"

"Rock Throw!", a muffled voice cried out from somewhere untraceable.

A baffled Cayman was about to lower his weapon when the wall nearest him exploded inward, propelling him him back several feet. Boulders, crates, and rubble rained down everywhere, forging a sizable barricade between Cayman and Anna, cutting the two off from each other entirely. Deep chalky smoke filled the bunker in mere moments.

The heavy smell of dirt and dust filled Cayman's lungs as he struggled to find his bearings. He wiped down his dirt-caked face and glanced up upon hearing the all-too-familiar bellow of his iron serpent surfacing from the confusion.

Dust swirled up as Viper and Steelix emerged from the massive breach in the wall. "Use your head, soldier," the unsparing junior officer scolded, pulling Cayman to his feet. "We can't afford to kill a police officer right now. Too many complications would result from it. Every cop and Pokémon Trainer in the nation would be after you with a vengeance."

Cayman retracted his energy blade and bent forward to catch his breath. "Yeah?", he panted, far from intimidated. "Well Bring em' on!"

This time, Viper leaned in close as he denounced the other boy's brashness. "We came here to swipe evidence, not mindlessly murder cops."

Cayman arched up to attention and gave Viper an unpleasant look as he searched him up, down, and around. The evidence box was nowhere to be found on him. "Okay, then where's the evidence?"

Viper seemed just as stunned as Cayman, however. The expression on his face appeared to drain away with it when he realized the other wasn't joking around.

Cayman furrowed another brow. "You did manage to grab it from the trunk, didn't you?", he gauged slowly, his voice suddenly wavering. "That was your job, man!"

"It was gone by the time I got there," Viper quickly explained himself. "I assumed you had it."

Before either boy could exchange another word, a distinct but subtle rustling sound echoed from the exit tunnel behind them. They looked over towards the noise to find an unfamiliar antelope-like Pokémon, green in color, setting the said evidence briefcase to the ground and nudging it a few inches towards them.

Viper grimaced as he tried to comprehend this. "W—What in the world?"

Meanwhile, the barricade of rock and rubble dividing the bunker suddenly gave a jolt. Several muffled cries belonging to angry police officers reverberated from the other side of the obstruction—Anna wasn't alone anymore. And Cayman and Viper both knew it would only be a matter of time before the entire police force busted through the makeshift barrier and stormed the scene like a pack of stray Houndours sniffing for missing scraps.

Cayman glanced away from the crumbling barricade and back to the exit route to find that the mysterious Pokémon had vanished, leaving only the briefcase in sight. "Not what I had in mind... but I'll take it!" With a fiendish smile, the hotshot soldier bolted for the exit, snatching up the briefcase on his way out. "We got to keep moving! The barricade won't hold out forever!"

Viper watched flabbergasted as Cayman vanished into the darkness of the tunnel, all the while the barricade behind him began to crumble.

Cayman's smart-mouth voice hollered from the exit, "Hurry it up, Slowbro, or you're going to be a permanent resident!"

At that, Viper immediately came to his senses and motioned for Cayman's Steelix to come hither. Once the Pokémon slithered close enough, Viper mounted the beast and charged after his fleeing companion.

Up ahead, Cayman slowed down enough for Viper to catch up and then, at the right moment, hopped up on Steelix with a victorious howl. "Ha!" He climbed around Viper to take charge of his ironclad steed as the they sped down the tunnel like an unstoppable mine cart. "Yeah, now we're traveling in style!"

Viper rolled his eyes and scooted back a bit as they sailed smoothly through the vast, chasmal tunnel. "How do you intend for us to escape?"

Cayman peaked over his shoulder, snorting cockily, "I've already arranged for that!" His bumptious smile suddenly spread yonder over his sun-kissed face. "Just sit back and I'll handle the rest, alright? We'll be out of here before you can say 'Alakazam'!"

…...

"Old Man Silph is going to suffer a financial fallout when people all over the world catch wind of this incident," I remarked to Kade with a pleasant pitch to my voice. "He'll lose customers and investors left and right, mark my words."

Kade looked to me and pouted in a somewhat sarcastic charade, "And what of the innocent people of Saffron?"

"Collateral damage," I hissed through a grated teeth, as we both broke out in another fit laughter. "Silph's problem, not ours!"

As we cruised back into Fuchsia, a mere three miles from HQ, Kade leaned over the limousine's wet bar and refilled our wine glasses to the top. I didn't bother stopping him. I could hold my liquor, despite the fact that I didn't often drink outside of celebratory protocol. I'd always maintained that alcohol was for the weak—and, of course, Kade Sorhagen.

He'd already downed three glasses of scotch since we left Saffron. He was still as ecstatic as ever, bouncing up and down in his seat, a show of excitement I'd typically expect from Rita or even Cayman. "I still can't believe all the destruction and chaos we left behind!", he puffed and chuffed, laughing his hind off. "It's so exhilarating!"

I decided to contribute to the idle chitchat, if not just to take the opportunity to mumble inaudibly, "I live for destruction and chaos."

He just sighed at me impatiently and sipped from his glass. "What do suppose caused those Pokéballs to turn so... well... monstrous?" He simply couldn't take his mind off the factory fulmination. Understandable. "Whatever ingredients went into assembling those deficient pieces of trash can't be pure."

He raised a credible, though unintentional, point... but I was quick to elaborate on his rhetoric, "The Cryocite systems on Silph's Pokéball models are known to malfunction in extreme low temperatures, completely restoring the consciousness of the Pokémon within, but causing errors in the wake up procedure." I knew the business quite well, and he seemed rather taken aback by my extensive knowledge. "In case you aren't already aware, that malfunction was why our company chose not to imitate Silph's Pokéball production measures. Cryocite is easy to import but a pain to purify."

He errantly smirked to himself as he gently stirred the drink in his hand. "Hmph. What a simpleton he was to call our Pokéballs inferior. At least our merchandise isn't defected."

"But I never imagined such a defection could produce far more desolating results than a simple mechanical glitch," I pondered out loud, giving the both of us something to chaw over. "The Pokéballs themselves became alive somehow. Silph's switch from Apricorns to Cryocite came with unfortunate risks."

His left brow shifted out of place. "What exactly is this Cryocite you're jabbering on about?"

I moved to set down my glass, though I could feel his eyes prying into my skull, yearning for answers. "It's a special component commonly found in Status Stones," I educated him—and I was happy to do so. It wasn't often I got to teach a history lesson to a backward politician. "Status Stones were used as artifacts in ancient times to collar primitive Pokémon. Silph must have found a way to recalibrate these stones and harness their power for his own industrious ends." I smiled, leaning back in my seat. "What a clever, clever man. Shame he'll be thrown in an institution after he's blamed for all of this."

He shook his head at me and giggled vulgarly, "Pardon my brass, pretty boy, but that still doesn't explain why mutant Pokéballs are wreaking havoc all over Saffron."

Now he wanted a science lesson? I laughed at his doggedness and reluctantly explained what he wanted explained in the simplest terms possible. "Machines perform computations. Machines can capture other systems' abstract causal organization—like my brain, for instance. Mental properties are nothing over and above abstract causal organization. Therefore, mechanisms like Silph's Cryocite-ridden Pokéballs running the right kind of computations will instantiate mental properties."

He seemed to be enjoying the lecture a bit too much; there was a dangerous, almost tactile glint in his eyes. Just how receptive was his brain to new information? Was the very talk of scientific dangers giving him an adrenaline rush?

I played along to his peculiar fascination. "The electromagnetic radiation from the assembly line explosion, charged by the neurons embodied in my psychic powers, must have raised the Cryocite temperatures to such an extreme that it somehow animated the conscious energy within those Pokéballs."

Kade's face did a little emotional gymnastics, then settled on something akin to wonderment. He pondered silently as he downed the rest of his glass.

I took the moment to remind him, "I warned you how dangerous and unpredictable psychic energy can be." I then gave a quaint little exhale and rubbed my fingertips over the stubbly bristles of my chin, grinning at the reality of my own words. "That's probably why I'm so damn drawn to it."

Across from me, Kade toasted his empty glass in concurrence. "Fancy that. I, too, have a fondness for the unpredictable. Like our alliance today. Who could have predicted that?" Now he was the one wearing a reflective smile.

I responded, nonetheless, in my dark and distant tongue, "No one." I quickly drew my gaze to my lap, where my hands sat folded. I barely held any visual on him above the neck. "We're opposites, you and I. We're night and day, except for in this specific instance."

There was silence... but I could feel him watching me, as if somehow offended. Then, after a few passing moments, he shrugged his shoulders effeminately and whispered, "Even so, this was the best business trip of my career."

When I heard this, I immediately glanced up at him. That remark alone earned a erring smile from me, something we could both appreciate. "Ditto."

He silently chuckled, then refilled our glasses for one last toast as the limousine began to pull through the front gates of HQ.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring thoughtfully at this flamboyant sap, so giddy and proud of our 'understanding'. And I couldn't help but mull over a distant echo from the recent past. "Anna once told me that pairs survive better in the wild," I recalled from the back of my mind, yet still remembering the sabotage of Silph Co. was all my genius. "I'm starting to suspect that's only because one is the puppet... and the other... the puppet master. But is there still hope for Clint? Will he be yet another pawn in my game of chess?"

…...

Steelix burst into the abandoned power station like a knife through butter, rubble spilling everywhere. There wasn't much time. Sweating and panting, Cayman quickly dismounted his Pokémon and called it back to its Pokéball. He then darted towards the near-demolished generator situated in the center of the room, careful not to step on any cables or coils.

Viper, meanwhile, wandered the cave with a glint of nostalgia in his eye. "Talk about Dejavu," he sighed to himself. From what he could make out beyond darkness, the chamber was just as they had left it the day before: raped and subverted of its civil, community uses. "What are we even doing here, soldier?"

Cayman didn't bother turning around to answer. He merely stood stoic in front of the ravaged power plant. "I'm going to restart the generator."

Viper tilted his head. "But it's practically pulverized."

"Eh, it'll still run," Cayman dismissed with a shrug. "It's in decent enough shape."

But Viper remained skeptical. He crossed his arms over his chest ina small bout of pessimism and grumbled, "You'd need to jumpstart it with some sort of power source."

Cayman answered with the quick flicker of his Aura Blade, bright and shimmering.

Viper gnawed down on his bottom lip. "May I ask one last question?" He began pacing his way towards Cayman, never aborting his cynical body posture. "WHY are we doing this? Even if we do get the generator working again, you'll be giving away our position. Every light in the city will go on."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point," he breathed in, raising his blade, then stabbing it six-feet-deep into the inanimate machine.

In that instant, the generator's lights blinked on, turbines humming to life. The city's power was now returned.

Viper promptly realized this and just shook his head bitterly as panic clawed its way down his throat and clutched at his chest. "You've alerted the cops to our presence here! We're sitting ducks now!"

Cayman groaned out an exasperated noise, then whispered in annoyance, "It's not the cops I'm alerting, dumbass."

For several minutes, Viper could only stare at him clueless, while Cayman's numb, mischievous smile that always lingered on his expression remained unchanged.

It wasn't until the ground beneath them began rumbling did the boys break eye contact. Instinctively, they dived to the side, making room for a large, imposing drill to come tunneling out from beneath the ground.

Viper scrambled to his feet... but calmed down when he recognize the vehicle for the one they'd discovered buried earlier in the day.

The drill's hatchet flew open just seconds later and Culm poked his head out. "Hope I ain't too late, fellas!", he bellowed, dirt and oil smudged across his round face. "I saw your signal just as I was makin' the finishing touches on this here giant corkscrew!"

Cayman sprung towards the fully-functioning vehicle in excitement. "Looks good, Culm!", he lauded, awing over the engines as he gave the drill's rear a quick inspection. "You clean up nice!" Satisfied with the modifications, he made his way back around the drill and started to climb up the metal latter leading up to the open hatchet. "We should probably board this thing before Sergeant Super Cop shows up."

Viper, however, remained frozen in place. He was still trying to figure out how Cayman could have possibly timed all of this out so flawlessly.

Cayman glanced over his shoulder to find that his mesmerized partner wasn't following him up the latter. "What, are you waiting for it to put on a tutu and dance?", Cayman hollered, jerking Viper from his daze. "Get in!"

Viper gathered himself, deciding to ponder on this later, and hurriedly piled into the transport after Cayman, shutting the hatchet door behind him.

With Culm behind the controls, the massive drill swiftly changed gears and began to sink back into the tunnel from which it emerged, its turbine propellers scrupulously kicking up dirt and rubble on the way back down, thus covering its trails and erasing any trace of a burrow. No one would ever be able to track them.

…...

Eden stood waiting outside the city, on a mountain ledge that curved around one of Coronet's smaller pikes. She watched ardently as Virizion emerged in the glimmer of the setting sun, glazed in an orange glow. She hugged her cloak to her slim, narrow frame and took a few steps forward to greet her companion.

The Pokémon rushed up the incline, effortlessly. "The deed is done, Lady Eden."

Eden glanced aside and nodded, knowing the truth would soon become clear to Cayman. "We did a good thing, Virzion."

Virizion shifted on its hooves, looking uncomfortable. "How so? Are we not aiding the enemy?"

She pressed a finger to her lips, shushing him. "We're aiding the enemy of our enemy," she corrected quietly. "Why put down a neglected animal when you can turn it against its owner?" With a flutter of her cloak, tucking her hood back over her face, Eden looked to the stars above for guidance and turned her back to the city, hiking along the ledge that followed the bend of the mountain.

Virizion, on the other hand, simply stared off towards the horizon for a long, considering moment... then reluctantly chased after the young, fearless maiden as they fled Oreburgh, unseen. Next stop: Unova.

…...

Outside the boardroom, I rested a hand on Kade's shoulder, gently culling him away from the door just as he was reaching for the handle. I made sure to even out my tone as he looked at me inquisitively, "Kade, before we go in there, I think... you should be the one to take all the credit for what happened today." As I said this, I forced a smile, even though it wasn't quite authentic. "You earned it."

He seemed shaken, flustered. "Are... are you certain?"

"I don't need some silly promotion," I explained. "I'm already second in command of the company, in case you haven't noticed. You should have all the glory today."

His jaw tightened, as if weighing his options. Then, after but a brief moment of what appeared to be consideration, he perked up with a toothy grin. "Fabulous!" He reached for my hand and offered a gentleman's handshake, wrenching my arm up and down with immeasurable eagerness. "You're a peach, Metsuma! An absolute peach!"

I let my hand fall gracefully to my side as he released my arm and raced into the boardroom to tell Daken the good news. I licked my lips, tightened my tie, and quietly followed him inside, my movements patient and measured compared to Kade's restless zeal. Closing the doors behind me, I glided to Kade's side, taking prompt notice of the empty chairs around the meeting table.

The only occupied seat resided at the head of the table, turned away from us, still against the noisy clockwork radio mounted against the front wall. A pudgy hand made itself known from the leather chair, fiddling with the radio knobs, adjusting them enough to where the voices were distinct and audible for both Kade and I to hearken.

The radio crackled to life, as a male news anchor's poised and casual voice sounded across the room, "-where according to reports, President Silph of the Silph Corporation apparently dismissed his employees in the middle of production, leaving the assembly line unattended. For his display of negligence, which is believed to be due to his failing mental health, President Silph has been removed from the board and placed in a sanatorium for psychiatric evaluation. It is expected he will remain here after his son inherits the corporate empire for himself."

I gave a small, undetectable smile. "How tragic."

To my further amusement, the miniscule voice belonging to one of Silph's executives surfaced from the radio, addled and anguished as he delivered his apology speech, "We are working as hard as we can to resolve this issue. We have been asked by the Pokémon Ranger Ecological Association to shut down production of all our factories until further notice. We apologize to our many loyal consumers, Pokémon and Trainers alike."

I wanted to burst out laughing, right there, right then. Beside me, though, Kade didn't share the same sentiment. I could see him shifting uncomfortably in the corner of my eye, fearful of the utter disappointment Daken was trying to get across by sharing this radio broadcast. I, for one, wasn't as fazed. It would all work out in my favor.

The news anchor's voice promptly returned, this time with a tone of panic, "A bit of breaking news: it seems Pokémon Trainers have found a way to stop the explosive Pokéballs from rampaging across Saffron. We have reports that say these mutant Pokéballs are, in fact, able to be captured with ordinary Pokéballs. We'll bring you all the details right after this message from our sponsor—"

Daken's hand suddenly switched off the radio. He then spun around in his chair to face us. He twisted his fingers in his lap and leaned inward against the table with an empty, shallow gaze drawn at us like a weapon. "Do you boys know anything about this?", he asked slowly, somewhat gratingly. I couldn't be sure his tone was one of disapproval.

I could feel Kade trembling in his shoes, tiny whimpers escaping in time with his quickened breaths. He was about ready to go into his self-preservation mode. This came as no surprise to me. It was all the more reason I could never bring myself to trust him, at least not as my equal. But he'd soon learn his place beneath me. Besides, he wasn't quite as expendable as the others. He still had his uses.

A whole minute passed before Daken rose from his seat and slowly made his way around the table to confront us, eye to eye.

As anticipated, Kade sold me out in a heartbeat to defend his own pride. "It was Metsuma!", he wailed, dropping to his knees and groveling at Daken's feet—he was almost as good an actor as me. "This was all his crazy idea! He was insane, Daken! Completely insane! Out of control! I tried to talk him out of it, but he just wouldn't listen to reason!"

Daken lifted his gaze back up at me. "Is this true?"

I barely hesitated. I nodded curtly, much to Kade's puzzlement.

Daken closed his eyes, an ambiguous expression taking over his face, then opened them again. Before I could react, he threw himself at me in a jolly fit of laughter, embracing me with a lung-crushing hug. "Well done, my boy!", he howled, swinging me in circles. "I knew I could count on you to save this company! You had the grit to do what no one else in this business would! You deliberately put your life on the line to wipe our competition clean off the map! Now that's what I call devotion!"

By the time he let go of me, I was reeling with nausea, dizzy on my feet. "I'll never get used to that..." I managed to catch my balance just as Kade was climbing to his feet, dumbstruck. I dismissed his state of stupor and engaged Daken with a possessive smile. "Just doing my job, Daken." I rubbed at the stubble on my jaw and glanced briefly towards Kade, repeating myself in a low mummer, "Just doing my job..."

Kade's face reddened, as if he'd just been disowned by Silph all over again. The irony was just too delicious to pass on.

Daken didn't seem to notice our tense, unspoken exchange. He was too caught up in his excitement to notice much of anything. "The market is ours, gentleman! We're back in business!" He leapt in front of me, though I was careful not to set myself up for another surprise hug. "Oh, and I'll be sure to keep this to myself," he heckled with a wink. "Your etiquette is admirable, Metsuma! You have the potential to run this company one day!"

I shrugged, modest as always. People seemed to love that most about me—or rather, my mask. Daken was always a sucker for it.

"This time tomorrow, our stocks will double! Maybe even triple! Oh, I better go prepare a presentation for the next board meeting!" My bubbling father-in-law then rushed off to go fulfill his said agenda, but not before pausing in front of my inferior, as if just now realizing he was there. "Kade, be a sport and fetch me some coffee, won't you?"

Kade visibly blanched, gobsmacked. This was the icing on the cake for me.

Unconcerned, Daken breezed past Kade and slipped out the door in a huff.

I shook my head, quietly laughing, and turned to Kade. I offered him no pity, no sympathy. I merely stated, "You should have taken the credit."

Sounding very much like a petulant child, he groaned, "I sincerely despise you right now." Then, to my intrigue, he cracked a slight smile and managed to brave my gaze. "On the other hand... I now realize you'll always be one step ahead of me." He looked at me solemnly for just a moment longer, then looked away again. "Despite today's exploit, I can never preside over you, much less stand as your equal. I'm done competing with you. It's pointless."

I caught his wrist as he turned to take his leave. "That doesn't mean you can't help this company prosper. You still have your political connections, after all."

Giggling, he cleared his throat and did a perfect imitation of my voice, "Just doing my job, Metsuma."

I released his arm, but not without voicing my first order of business, "You can start by fetching me some coffee also. I'd like to get the taste of alcohol out of my mouth."

He froze, clenching his fists in a barely-achieved show of self-restraint, then gnarled through gritted teeth, "Yes, sir." With that, he carried on, moping out the door just as Maria came bolting in, though I barely noticed her over the victory music playing in my head.

"Metsuma, did you hear the news—", she jerked me from my delirium, breathless, but stopped when she spotted the evident smirk of triumph sprouting on my lips. She couldn't help but grin herself; perhaps my pleasure was unwittingly infectious. "Look at you, all smiling and cheerful! What happened?"

Gently pulling her head beneath the crook of my chin, I viciously shut my eyes, whispering over that same meticulous grin, "I won."

…...

"Landon Kace seems to have disappeared without a trace," Peer reputed tritely into Anna's ear, the both of them watching nonplussed as officers searched the generator room, Growlithes and Houndours sniffing the dirt for clues.

It was a mobbed scene... but there was nothing to gain from it all. Nothing to show for it. No possible escape routes. No DNA traces left behind. Nothing at all. "I don't understand it," Anna cursed quietly underneath an irate breath. "We had him cornered in this chamber! The city generator couldn't have just powered on by itself."

Peer shrugged comically. "Well, at least the city HAS power again."

"That's not why he came back!", Anna protested, mostly mad at herself.

The venerable special agent rested a hand on Anna's shoulder and chuckled softly. He was resolved to console her, make her see this through. "Well, he didn't kill anyone or take anything, so now it's just a matter of speculating."

Anna flinched, "T—Take anything?", she giggled nervously, swallowing a hard lump in her throat. "Uh... yeah... about that, sir—"

She was interrupted when Detective Jordie came barreling into the chamber in a hype. "Special Agent Peer, we did another sweep of the campsite!" His fervor, however, vanished as he recalled his findings with a short and monotonous, "We found nothing." He sighed in frustration. "This kid is like a Haunter in the night: one minute, we have him... and the next, he's untraceable!"

"Tell me about it," muttered Anna, rolling her eyes.

Lieutenant Ramsley was the next to report. "I contacted boat patrol," he proclaimed, frigid like a wave of icy breath. "Not once did they spot our stolen ferry attempting to make port. Landon's either still in Sinnoh or he found a powerful enough Pokémon to teleport him over waters." He then proceeded to direct his attention towards Anna. "You should have acted faster, Sergeant. If you had, he might not have outsmarted you... again."

Anna blinked speechlessly, her stomach twisting.

Peer, however, broke the tension with a corny little side-comment, "Landon's an elusive little talent, I'll give him that."

But Anna wouldn't take it. "How can you be so calm?", she demanded, almost on the verge of tears. Her career was on the line, after all. "Any chance we had of closing this investigation just slipped through our fingers! Everything's fucked up again!"

Every cop in the bunker stopped what they were doing and looked on towards Anna as she spilled her heart out.

She simply waved them down. "No, you know what? Ramsley's right. I'm the fuckup." She closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping her shaking legs still. "This one's on me."

"You are NOT a fuckup," Peer objected harshly, snatching her by her wrist collar. "You're one of the finest officers I've ever had the pleasure of working with. Don't you forget it." His piercing eyes abated, now browsing through every other cop present. "And as for the rest of you... had you all used your brains and spread out in pairs like I suggested, we would have Landon Kace in handcuffs right now. This is a team effort, not a chain of command. Rankings mean nothing to me. If one of us goes down, we all do."

Everyone looked to each other, silent, unable to reciprocate. Not even Ramsley, the guttural of the group, could form an audible response.

Peer let the silence hang for just another minute, then smiled. "But I'm a forgiving man," he expressed, suddenly fatherly and affectionate. "We learn from our mistakes. Each and every one of us." He flicked his gaze back to his tearful partner. "Am I right, Anna?"

Her voice shook more than she wanted it to; tears blurred her vision. But she managed to gather her pride and answer firmly, "You're right, sir."

"Good!", he chirped with a nod, motioning the crowd away. "Back to work, everyone. It's almost suppertime and I'd like to be out of these mines in the foreseeable future." He waltzed off towards the exit, letting everyone return to their duties.

But Anna raced to meet him halfway. She tapped his arm, causing him to whirl around and confront her, as a grateful little smile graced her lips. "You just stuck up for me back there," she said, flushing. "Thank you."

He shook his head imperceptibly. "I merely stated facts," he clucked with a rasp in his tongue. "You don't need me to fight your battles. You're capable of that and so much more."

"Well, for the record, the only reason I'm surviving this task force job is because you've been by my side every step of the way." She chuckled as she said this, her voice painfully tight.

Peer crooked his head, testing out a new kind of smile. "A little positive reinforcement can work wonders."

She pursed her lips into a mock pout and popped a hip, sighing, "Yeah, well, I wish I'd had more of that growing up."

Before Peer could return the servility, Jordie popped up between them, this time focused on Anna. "Hey, Anna, I just got a message from dispatch!" His energy was running rampant again, each word carrying unnecessary emphasis. "There's something back the precinct you might want to see."

She sighed, "Can it wait?"

But he shook his head and swallowed. "Apparently, the Soul Robber left you a parting gift." The mines suddenly went quiet again. "It's sitting on your desk as we speak."

…...

Hours of reflection had sure exhausted Clint. He shuffled in the sand, getting a bit fidgety. "I think we've covered everything there is to know about me, Agatha," he expounded to the young priestess sitting across from him. "It's probably getting late—back in the real world, that is. I mean... look, I appreciate all of this—"

Agatha closed and opened her eyes. "You mentioned you did something as a child that drove a wedge between you and Metsuma."

His lips curled, dreading where this conversation was headed. "Yes, it's something I still think about, even when I try not to," was all he could bring himself to reveal. "I really hurt him."

"When you and Metsuma lost each other all those years ago, is it possible you merely latched on to Rita and substituted her for the best friend you failed to save?" Her question was rather curious, but she didn't change anything. "You said you'd always longed to see the right in people. Maybe, in you're own little way, you thought you could make up for what you did to Metsuma by somehow helping Rita?"

"It was more than just that!", he piped up nervously, like a child trying to explain a harmless fault. "I trained endlessly, I wandered the regions helping sick Pokémon! I even—"

But Agatha had already puzzled the pieces together. "You thought you could heal your guilty conscience with charity and good deeds?"

He blinked and a small frown struggled at the corners of his mouth. "I did everything I could possibly think of to convince myself I was still a good person at heart. It was selfish of me." He quickly straightened his posture, momentarily concerned with his waning professionalism, then chuckled aloud upon realizing just how much of a nervous wreck he was. "You think I'm crazy now, oh, I can't even imagine what a mess my life would be if he hadn't forgiven me."

Agatha shook her head. "I don't think you're crazy. And I don't think your selfish."

"Can I get that in writing?", he chortled softly, looking away to the tinted sky. "My selfishness was the very catalyst for that wedge drawn between us." Sand collected in his palm... and he squished it, letting it crunch beneath his fingers. "I should never have listened to Wade and carried on with that foolish research behind Metsuma's back."

She smirked, obviously pleased with his confession. "From what I do know about you, you feel things very deeply. Like your bond with Metsuma."

Clint glanced up, a level of suspicion rousing within him.

The tension was palpable as Agatha chewed on her words, thinking carefully of what to say and what not to say. She had to communicate this... delicately. "Is it possible that your feelings for Metsuma are the reason that you have chosen romances in the past to have been either inappropriate or unavailable?" She knew to be careful, to handle this sensibly or she could lose him here so easily.

Clint suddenly worried at his lower lip. His eyes were guarded, angled like so. "What are you saying?", he laughed nervously. Part of him thought she was just playfully toying with him.

Alas, she was quite serious. "Both Anna and Rita didn't work out for you because—"

Clint's perfectly groomed brows raised in surprise as he tried to measure out his the conclusion she was reaching for, "Because... they're what? Not Metsuma?" He paled like a ghost, his heartbeat incredibly fast. Finally, he denied her claim with a sharp whisper, "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" She refused to look away, to let the matter drop. It needed to be addressed... or he would regret it later on.

A sudden sweetness on the wind settled upon Clint like a heavy blanket, causing a convulsion within his spirit that was so violent it nearly had him tumbling forward. This was followed quickly by nausea. Dizziness. Confusion. It all felt so familiar... yet so new. And he wasn't sure he liked it.

And Agatha could see it clearly within him. "He's already stumbled upon the path," she thought to herself, noticing the shift in clouds, the sudden intensity of the waves. "He's resisting... but he's not entirely opposed to this path. He may never have consciously considered this path—he may not have subconsciously considered it either. But his ability to pick the wrong partner every single time will now allow him to understand the one relationship that truly matters most."

"He's my best friend," Clint defended himself, expressionless.

Agatha nodded. "He also holds a very important place in your life."

His mouth was hanging open, his eyes dilated. He swallowed past the lump that had lodged itself in his throat and uttered distantly, "So?"

"It would be understandable, given the history you two have shared, for you to develop... complex feelings for him." She was feeding off his emotions now, his fears, hidden truths now awake and exposed. "It's also possible... that because of the social stigma... and fear of Wade's disapproval... you weren't accepting of those feelings, so you stowed them away in your subconscious: where we're sitting right now."

He turned his gaze away, letting it settle on the two boys locking hands in the distance... and then he suddenly felt his body stiffen, paralyzed. "No, that's... that's crazy—" He looked away immediately, breathing so hard he thought he raised sand from the ground like a whirlwind. "That's not... logical!"

Noting her brother-in-law's spiraling confusion, she explained, "You've always been one to follow rules and social norms, right?" She leaned inward, placing a hand over his trembling knee. "It's the very same reason you 'betrayed' Metsuma in the first place—and that betrayal, in turn, subconsciously conflicted with your dark secret, hence the irrepressible guilt."

He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to wake up from this chaos. "W—Why are we even talking about this?"

Agatha stilled. This was the most insightful thing he'd asked her yet. "I'm merely feeding off your repressed feelings," she laid it out, plain and simple. "You mention Metsuma. He comes up in these discussions a lot. Aren't you curious as to why that is?"

Tears burned at his vision, but he remained resistant. "He's a huge part of my life, Agatha! That's all there is to it." He was offended now, borderline angry. "End of story!"

Agatha fell back on the classics: to state the obvious. "You're becoming upset."

Clint bolted upright in panic, face boiling red. "Yes, I'm becoming upset, because you're making it sound like I want to...be with him, or something!"

Remaining calm, Agatha arched her brow and turned the implication back on him. "Well, do you?"

Again, that look. The open mouth. The eyes just so... full of emotions. Then he stood tall as the colorful backdrop of his trance began to smear away, consciousness returning to him. "Look," he huffed, biting his lip, unaware of the shift in atmosphere. "I love Metsuma. But I am sure as heck not IN LOVE with him, if that's what you're implying."

Agatha gestured to their transformed surroundings—they were back in PLC building. "If you really believed that, you'd still be unconscious right now. But you're not." She folded her arms confidently across the rise of her chest. "We found the root of your problem, and so the spiritual connection has dispelled. Why else would we be back in your office?"

Clint narrowed his eyes. His voice was very, very quiet, "This is not open for discussion." He stomped his way to the door and opened it, pointing her outside. "We're done here. Now please leave."

Compliant and respectful of his wishes, Agatha picked herself up off the floor, collected her things, but stopped just as she was about to step out the door. She turned her head slightly. "Clint."

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He felt humiliated, mainly for having lost his temper. That wasn't like him.

Understanding, she reached into her special duffel bag and pulled out the Book of Wraith, handing him the ancient text. "Should you choose to take the spiritual journey by yourself... you might rediscover your feelings with a better understanding of them. You don't need me telling you who you are. Maybe it's best you find these answers on your own time."

He stared down at the book for a second, then wordlessly accepted it.

With that, she was gone, leaving him to contemplate on everything that had just happened.

…...

Viper found Cayman lounging on the warm bunk of the drill's small but viable sleeping compartment. He poked his head through the metal doorway to bring his comrade up to speed. "We're tunneling beneath the ocean surface. According to the radar, we should be arriving at Savile Island momentarily."

"Good," Cayman yawned, turning on his side. "I'm bushed."

Viper opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he noticed the unopened briefcase sitting at the foot of the bedspread. Thinking on his feet, he walked briskly towards the bed and grabbed the luggage before Cayman could even think to protest. "Don't bother with this," he explained himself, holding the bag close to his waist. "You were asked to steal evidence, not scrutinize it."

Cayman barely inched out of place, back still turned to Viper. "Don't worry, I didn't touch it. I don't have the energy anyway. Hell, I could take a nap for the next three days." He laughed, then yawned a second time as he began to doze off. "I'll look at it tomorrow or something."

Without being prompted, Lunatone and Solrock emerged from their Pokéballs, circling Cayman's bed repeatedly.

A groan escaped Cayman, but he was to spent to scold his servants.

"Worry not, Kami," Lunatone soothed its Master in a lulling voice. "I am certain you will rest well tonight after today's excitement."

"I heartily concur," Solrock chimed in. "Sleep, Kami. Sleep. Shall we sing you a lullaby?"

Without bothering to flip over on his side, Cayman raised a fist to them and grunted tiredly, "If you do, I'll kill you both."

On that note, they both settled down. "As you wish, Kami."

Viper sighed and quietly carried the suitcase outside, closing the door shut behind him. He followed the grated floor back to the control pit, where Culm sat navigating the ancient vehicle. "How are we doing on time?", he asked with an exhale, plopping into the seat beside the coal miner. "Having any trouble operating this thing?"

"Nah, it ain't too bad," Culm replied with the shrug of his large, bulbous shoulders. "I'm gettin' the hang of it." He glanced over at Viper for a second, eying the briefcase in particular. "What's that you got there in your lap?"

Viper was nearly emotionless when he answered. "The evidence we've been after."

At this, Culm couldn't help but wonder, "Any particular reason you ain't lettin' Cayman peak at it?"

"Not my call, Culm," the other bit back quietly, not wanting to talk about it. "Just... let it go."

…...

At the Vielstone Police Department, more and more officers assembled in the briefing room, a circular room with rows upon rows of hard-back chairs lining the walls. The entire scene was pandemonium, cops fighting and bickering to unravel the meaning behind the cryptic letter that lay unsolved on the center table, anonymous and portending. Ever since Anna found it sitting on her desk, it had only served cause a fuss.

While Anna and Peer observed quietly, seated a good distance from the mayhem, Ramsley was the first to grab everyone's attention. He slammed his fist to the table, silencing most of the room ,and lifted the ominous paper into the air. "It's a five-page manifesto and yet we can't make squat of it! We should just file this into evidence until—"

Anna, unable to lie to her department any longer, finally spoke up. "The case evidence went missing from my car."

Ramsley's gaze turned icy cold. "What was it doing in your car?"

With all eyes turned on her, Anna shrugged back in her seat, her voice caught in her throat. "I—I thought that maybe—"

Peer rotated his head to her, disappointed. "Anna, this doesn't look good." Then, suddenly, a new thought occurred to him... and he rubbed his goatee ponderously. "But it may explain why Landon came back to Oreburgh in the first place." He motioned to Ramsley once more. "Let's review the manifesto one more time, shall we?"

Left and right, cops lurched from their seats to decipher the first passage, desperate to make sense of the mysterious message.

'To take a life is to be alive. The same disappointments, fears, goals, happiness, triumphs. Disappointment is when they do not scream. The scream which rivals that of a Pincer caught in the net of society's evils. Perhaps what you do next is best looked upon as a favor then, putting the Pincer out of its misery.'

Detective Jordie managed to speak above the fracas, drawing his own conclusions. "Okay, so, he's comparing himself to a Pincer maybe? He feels trapped or something? Or maybe he has a sick fetish for bug catching?" He shrugged, not too sure anymore of his own theory. "Killers are like that, you know? It's on all the radio dramas."

Jenny snatched the manifesto from him in protest. "Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. How can you possibly tell all that from what you've heard on radio dramas?"

Again, Jordie shrugged. "I don't know. It's science or something."

"How 'bout trying some common sense?", Jenny sneered back, causing the room to go up in commotion again, voices angrily shouting for a say.

'Fear is when they scream too loudly. But they are still brainwashed. Better finish it now. There is no turning back. Father said it best.'

Jenny interpreted the next passage, "The Soul Robber's got daddy issues, apparently."

"Wait, that doesn't make any sense!", another woman in uniform protested. "Landon didn't have a father growing up!"

More arguing. More yelling. More aggression.

Peer chewed on his chapped lower lip, indecisive. He'd been quiet the entire briefing, just watching and observing, waiting for the undertones of the confusion to appear to him.

'Happiness to look down at your work. Your first kill. Pride and joy, you might say. Like gazing upon your first Gym Badge. It is a trophy. Cherish it and take pride in it. It defines what you are at the core. Why listen to a God? The system is the one that drives you, isn't it?'

"I think the guy that we're looking for is pissed off at Arceus, and that's why he kills people!", one officer shouted. "For religious reasons!"

"Really?", another dismissed. "I actually found his passage to be very politically motivated."

Jordie nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like a modern-day revolutionary... or something."

"—which would suggest that he's killing for social change!" Anna weighed in, but was quickly shot down by about half the room, whereas the other half remained quiet and undecided. "Don't get mad at me! It's all in the beginning passages!"

'Triumph at getting away with it, at not being caught. Such an honorable and secure detective system you are, yet with so many, many flaws. The small but convenient loopholes of your investigatory work. Small enough to not be seen by the public eye, but large enough for one man, or even woman to slip through. Slip rhymes with rip. The sound of flesh being pierced through.'

At this, Ramsley collapsed in his seat, rubbing his head impatiently. "Great. Now he's insulting law enforcement. Don't we feel humbled. How does this connect to him and his father and God—"

"Maybe it's figurative," Jenny suggested.

"Wait, read this passage now!", Jordie exclaimed in disbelief, holding one of many pages. "It's ridiculous!"

'A Snorlax may be the most intelligent of us all. It ignores what is expected of it. Then again, Pokémon can never be like us. They are too supernatural...'

A male officer was about ready to pull his hair out over this one. "He just compared himself to a Pokémon in the first passage! Now he's criticizing them?"

"Maybe he hates Pokémon because they remind him of himself?", a forensic tech called out.

"That doesn't make any sense!", half the crowd booed him.

The lab rat remained firm with his stance. "It makes perfect sense!"

Again, the attempt at a formal debate degenerated into sheer disarray, people wailing for their voices to be heard, mocking and ridicule more prominent than needed of a police department.

Witnessing all this set in motion, Peer came to a sudden realization and leaned to his side, whispering into Anna's ear, "This is what he wants."

Anna's eyes widened. "What's that?"

He repeated himself, this time louder. "This is what the killer wants! Confusion, chaos—it's what he intended to invoke with this manifesto!" He shot to his feet, all heads turning towards him. "He's always been an intensely private figure... and now he's suddenly a media whore? It just doesn't make any sense."

Anna licked her lips, coming to understand this better. "He's creating a clusterfuck."

Peer reeled, smiling down at her accurate but vulgar-spoken response. "Spot on, Sergeant Lafleur." He marched his way to the front of the room and collected the pages of the manifesto, skimming through them, linking this all together like the master detective he was. "Look how he hits every major theme—political, social, environmental, religious. In one passage, he manages to weave together a garden of Sunflora to the creation of the Orange Islands." He looked up from the pages, unimpressed. "It's all messy and scattershot. Intentionally messy and scattershot."

Ramsley cocked his head curiously. "That seems a bit elaborate for some teenage kid to come up with."

Peer nodded, unparalleled glee in his eyes. "That's just another twist. This isn't Landon's doing." He waved the documents back and forth in the air. "How could he have left this manifesto here if he was in Oreburgh with us? The mastermind behind Landon Kace must have sent Landon to steal our case evidence. Meanwhile, he's stuck us with this manifesto, knowing it would send us scurrying like squirrels for nuts, so that we'd avert our attention away from Landon."

Jordie felt his stomach flip at all this convolution. "You're saying that Landon Kace is working with someone?"

"He's working BENEATH someone," Peer corrected, indirectly pitching Anna's theory—but with a flooring twist. "Someone who knew this manifesto would drag us away from Oreburgh and provide Landon the chance to escape with the evidence intact. Someone who knew how busily we'd react to this worthless piece of paper."

Frightened murmurs broke out across the room, while others were simply too stunned to say anything or do anything.

But Peer continued to break it all down."This anonymous mastermind is making us chase our tails. You know what that means?" He offered a vain but knowing smirk, then reached out to tap Jordie's police badge. "He knows how we work. He's familiar with law enforcement."

Jordie paled, as did everyone around him.

Anna, however, jumped in the first chance she had. "And he probably had Landon steal the evidence to cleverly erase the crumb trail leading to his existence."

Peer nodded. He'd already reached that conclusion, but appreciated her spirit.

Ramsley grimaced in Anna's direction. "What do you mean?"

Anna jumped up from her seat, but composed herself enough to speak as formally as Peer. "We have reason to believe Landon's mother was killed by someone else. And we believe this someone else is Cayman's commandant. Unfortunately, we can't look back on the evidence from the crime scene because it's out of our reach now." She still inwardly blamed herself for that one, but made sure to hide her shame from the others. "We have no way of getting it back."

Ramsley allayed, absorbing this information, but deciding to look at the grand scheme of things. "How would this mastermind manage to pull all of this off?" He looked up at Peer. "You mentioned he's always one step ahead of us. He's always able to anticipate and track our every move."

Again, Peer moved in and gently rapped his fingers on Jordie's badge. That was all the answer he needed to give.

Jordie sat up, horrified. "Are you suggesting the mastermind... is one of us?"

Peer shook his head and measured out his words prudently. "I'm suggesting the mastermind is someone close to one of us," he whispered. "Someone with Intel on our investigation. Someone with the right resources... with the right friends in the right places... with the right camouflage."

…...

Safe and sound back on their disfigured island, Viper left Cayman inside the fortress to rest up, then wandered off to the dry, shriveled reaches of the barren landscape. He knew he'd have to present the police evidence to Metsuma in a few hours and decided to kill some time in the meanwhile, time for himself.

Reaching deep inside his uniform, he fished out a fresh joint and his lighter, cupping his hand over the flame and lighting up the stick of cannabis spores, fresh from the mushroom lamina of his formerly-owned Parasect. This was the last of his 'elixir' and he knew to smoke it in small, measured drags.

Viper took a drag before leaning back against a slab of broken boulder and stared up at the stars, listening to the restless ocean waves crashing against the isle's doming arches. So peaceful. The most peaceful he'd been in days.He exhaled slowly, watching the ashen snake curl up into the starry heavens.

And then, suddenly, it wasn't so peaceful anymore. "Holy shit! I don't fucking believe it!" It was Cayman's voice, coming from behind. "I thought I smelt some fresh panama red!"

Viper toppled forward in a panic, then scrambled to his feet just as quickly, hiding the joint behind his back.

But Cayman was no idiot, nor was he any stranger to life's sweet, forbidden fruits. The smell was all familiar to his nostrils, taking him back to his days of partying on the islands. Those were simpler times. Viper was coy and elusive. He dared not exhale. "The biggest hardass I've ever met is a dopehead?", Cayman asserted with a bark of laughter. "This day just keeps getting better and better!"

Viper grimaced, then discarded his rolled up smoke, crushing it with his boot. The moment was ruined anyhow. "I thought you were napping."

Cayman's voice cracked, "Looks like I found a good reason to stay awake." He strut to Viper's side, motioning a hand. "Give me a hit, will ya?"

Viper turned his head away, pretending not to be bothered. "I don't think so, soldier."

"You want me to tell my dad you've been puffin Parajuana?", Cayman warned toothily, voice low and just a bit dangerous.

The other boy's threat sounded distant and almost didn't carry meaning, but Viper slid out a breathy "Okay" through his lips. After a lingering look, he reached into his uniform and grabbed all the necessary supplies; Cayman took in the familiar sight as the other boy rolled another joint methodically with nimble fingers and grabbed a lighter, lit up, then stuffed the lighter back where it belonged.

Cayman took a drag and seemed pretty much unaffected apart from a brief closing of the eyes. "Man, that hits the spot," he gasped, smoke attached to his words. "Good to know you have a Pokémon on hand for recreation instead of competition. Parasect aren't much good for battling anyhow, not as long as they gotta lug around mushrooms twice their size on their backs."

They lapsed into silence, just passing the joint back and forth. Viper could feel the quiet burrowing its way through his skin. He hadn't a clue what to do, what to say, so shifted uncomfortably where he stood and waited for what was coming.

"Funny," Cayman blurted out laughing after the silence had overstayed its welcome. "I never took you for a junkie."

"I'm no junkie," Viper said with no emotion at all. "Not anymore. If I was, I wouldn't have traded Parasect to some druggie addict for a Quilava." He quickly decided to change the subject, "So, maybe now you'll tell me how you were able to get us out of Oreburgh in one piece?" It was indeed a question that had been plaguing his mind since their escape. "How did Culm know where to find us?"

Cayman collapsed backward in a slump, squatting against the boulder. "Culm said he'd have the drill up and running by sundown, remember? When I went back to tell him where you and I were headed for the day, the two of us came up with a little emergency strategy. I told him if he spotted the power go back on in Oreburgh, he'd know where to pick us up."

Viper's expression was one of disbelief. He managed a small but perceivable grin. "You planned all that... before we even left?"

Cayman rolled his eyes. "Man, why do you think of me like I'm some kind of blockhead?", he asked, voice louder and bolder than it usually was, in-between sucking giant scarfs of breath into his neglected lungs.

"I don't," Viper mumbled, clearing his throat. He squatted down beside Cayman and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to utter an apology. "In fact, I hope you'll excuse my indiscretion this morning."

Cayman blinked and looked at the junior officer as if he'd just appeared out of thin air. "What are you trying to say?" He was unusually calm, sounding less angry than he had before. "You believe that my story this morning wasn't a dream? You don't doubt my instincts anymore?"

"I never stopped doubting you," Viper flippantly waved off the notion, confessing. "At least not since the mining insurgence."

"Then why'd you lash out at me back in Veilstone?", Cayman inquired, eyes intent and slightly awed.

"You nearly died following the orders of someone I know you're stronger than," the other boy replied boldly, gulping down a dry lump in his throat. "It frustrated me."

Cayman would have expected those words to be a product of the weed, silly as they were, but Viper's sudden wistful tone made them sound more serious than that. And Cayman had never heard the dour, straight-laced militant sound wistful like that before.

Viper explained on, "Before Culm and I found you, I was so afraid we'd lost a leader. A valuable and irreplaceable leader. The true leader of Nightfall." He curled his lips inward, then emphasized his point, "I let my devotion to you and my respect for your leadership control my actions." He looked Cayman dead and honest in the eye. "That's why I came back for you."

"I... I thought Metsuma sent you," Cayman murmured, tongue twisting and bloating, stumbling over his words.

Viper shook his head. "I didn't receive Metsuma's orders until after I'd made up my mind."

Cayman couldn't say anything productive to that. While he was grateful to some extent, he still couldn't quite make sense of Viper's ulterior motives.

Then, as if tapping into Cayman's thoughts, Viper spoke his mind. "I wish to serve under you one day, Cayman." He was calm as he uttered this, but paused to inhale another draw. He lifted the broiled scroll slowly to his lips between two of those deft fingers, slid it in and took a deep, throaty drag. "You have the potential to lead the Nightfall Collective," he continued on afterward. "You're headstrong, confident, and you've proven yourself to be far more intuitive than I originally thought."

"That's... that's deep, man," Cayman quietly answered, appreciative, his own brain roiling in some quiet and practiced way. "Pass me the joint."

Viper did so, but wasn't quite finished opening up. "It took me a long time... but I'm starting to realize that Metsuma may not be the best fit for us." His voice began to rise then in loudening tremors and his face was beginning to contort like skin-colored paper. "He uses terror to control everyone, makes people and Pokémon compete for his approval. It's as if he has no empathy whatsoever. It's... almost like he could toss us all aside at any moment he pleases without reason or regret. He's a brilliant liar, so how can one be sure the future he has in store for the collective isn't but a fool's paradise?"

Cayman shrugged. "Lies don't make you a leader, man," was all he could muster in response. "Besides, Metsuma's never lied to me."

"Are you sure about that?", Viper spluttered, not caring how stupid or desperate he sounded.

Cayman didn't take the comment to kindly. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Viper just shook his head, careful not to step out of line on a matter that didn't concern him. "Nothing. It's not my place." It took every ounce of his will to keep from telling Cayman the truth... about his mother, about Konani. About everything. Would he even believe him without proof? It was indeed a stupid idea.

Cayman's eyes, two deep pits of mulling blue, snapped back to their usual half-focus. "What would you know about my dad?", he hacked on a chortle, usual facade of smug cockiness restored in a heartbeat. "Are you just blowing steam because of some unresolved crap from YOUR past?"

"Doubtful," Viper sighed, feeling the breath escape into the night air with all the weight on his empty slate of a life. "I can't remember much of anything from my past. Nobody on this island can. It's as if our minds have been wiped clean—" He stopped, feeling like the biggest moron on the planet for not having figured it out sooner. He pulled down the shirt collar of his uniform and let his fingers roam the branding scar, the imprint almost identical to Cayman's. "No wonder..."

"What is it?" Cayman's own voice barely made a sound. "Hey... you have the same scar that I have—"

Viper made a noise that could have been of amusement. Then, finally, he shook off his daze. "Nothing. I was just remembering... who's really in control." Because if Cayman was no better or different from the rest of the island's brainwashed criminals, that automatically gave Metsuma an edge, one that was near unbeatable. And Viper could see this now.

…...

I made my way to the compound's repository, unhurried. I'd arrived earlier than expected, so I didn't see the need to rush, especially since this was my domain. I was free to do as I pleased. The only procession that required my attention was the elimination of the police evidence stolen from Veilstone and the inspection of the ancient vehicle Cayman had recovered from Mount Coronet.

Stepping inside the storage vault, my eyes swept the gray, metal room with a long, suffering look. The dim light swung precariously over the cold, steel walls. The sound of silence slipped from the narrow hallways, as the dull click of my heels clacked against the surface of the floor. I pressed on, though, moving towards the lone table that stood out from the emptiness of the vault.

Viper, my most trusted junior officer, rounded the corner on the other end of the room just as I made to sit down at the table. I could sense his short, shallow breaths as he approached me, his mulberry ponytail hanging liberally over his shoulder. His uniformed looked rumpled, his scent reeked of noxious herbage. I could only chalk it up to the gasses he'd been exposed to while working in the mines.

Noticing the briefcase he had tucked under his arm, I decided to skip the formalities. I folded my hands neatly over the table and gave him a permissive nod. "Let's see it."

Viper took the seat across from me, placing the briefcase between us. He was unusually quiet, even for someone who rarely spoke unless spoken to. His face set in a serious, rather curious frown, but it was hard to get a reading on his thoughts. The boy's Aura was as cold and impervious as a winter stone.

I decided to let my suspicions drop, more focused on the evidence than anything else. I pulled the briefcase close and zipped it open, letting my eyes feast over a case-breaking entree of case files, suspect reports, and crime scene photographs. "Anna's been a busy little Beedrill," I purred fondly, brushing my fingers over the snapshots of Pamela Kace's skillfully gutted corpse, an obvious contrast to Cayman's sloppy handiwork. "I can't risk Anna revisiting this murder and making any unwanted connections."

"I agree, sir," Viper quietly assented, the first time he'd spoken this entire meet.

"Nor can I risk Cayman's memories resurfacing," I prompted, carefully gauging his reaction.

He found my gaze at last, somewhat deterred. He motioned a hand over the evidence as he attempted to win my trust. "My eyes only, Boss," he assured me with a tone of smooth calm—impressive, indeed. "Cayman never looked at any of this. I made sure of that, just as you instructed me when you sent me to retrieve him."

"It was more of a suggestion," I retorted with a shrug, putting him at ease. "Still, better safe than sorry." Rather than dive back into my work, I observed Viper from the corner of my eye, searching him thoroughly for some kind of fault that would explain his state of uneasiness. And when I spotted a charred shred of mushroom lamina tacked to his collar, I knew I'd hit the jackpot.

He realized where I was looking and quickly tried to cover it up. Alas, it was a poor and all-too-obvious effort.

"Get that from my son?", I asked with the cold air on my side. My tone was deliberately vacant.

He didn't move an inch after I'd spoken this too him. "I, uh—"

"Funny," I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "I never found the time to take up smoking in my youth. I always saw it as yet another depressant for the weak and impuissant." After a moment of thought, I extended my hand across the table. Now was my chance to take up a new custom, perhaps a journey into Cayman's psyche. "May I?"

He appeared stunned at first, second-guessing my request. Then, after a brief reluctance, he reached down deep into his uniform to gather whatever ingredients were necessary. I could just hear the paper scrunch between his finger as he rolled up the flimsy Parasect poison like a scroll of sorts. Was it really worth it?

"Cayman uses it for recreation," he stated shortly, pulling the half prepared joint up to his lips and licking the paper so that he could roll it shut. "So do I, sir."

"Good boys," I declared breathily, both words drowning in a croup in my lungs. "Whatever dissatisfies the establishment is okay in my book." He handed me the lit joint and I nabbed it from his grasp without a hitch. The scent that I would never find myself particularly fond of began to overwhelm my senses, and so I took a brief but effective smoke, metering its effects in comparison to my own mind tricks.

"Do you... like it, sir?" Each time he spoke, more and more emotion seemed to flood into his voice.

"It's interesting," I exhaled. "Very interesting."

A slight frown was settling across his lips. He didn't quite know what to make of what he was witnessing. But I'd give him something to ponder over.

In one swift instant, I snatched his wrist and wrenched it towards me, staring into those fear-pooled eyes of his. Slowly, I lowered the burning tip of the joint to the boy's bony arm, twisting it into his skin as he did everything in his power to keep from crying out at the searing pain.

"You showed me what you do to kill time," I stated conversationally, jamming the burnt pinner deeper into his flesh. "Now I'm showing you my source of enjoyment. You should really try it sometime. Pokémon are the most tempting targets, I find."

Nodding his head and sweating profusely, he curled his lips inward, fighting back a scream threatening to tear its way up his vocal chords. He didn't even bother putting up a struggle; he was trying to brave this through till the end. His ability to withstand pain was one of many credentials I admired him for, but I doubt he cared to know this, especially not now.

I felt his wrist begin to quiver and convulse beneath mine, so I slowly withdrew the scalding poison, having had my fill of fun. I quickly stood up from my seat and tossed the joint into the briefcase, setting the evidence aflame. Various pictures of Konani and Pamela and butchered Pokémon shriveled to ash before my very eyes.

Viper sat expressionless, huffing out pain through his nostrils. His hardened gaze watched as the numerous files and photographs in front of him went up in embers, like burning trash. I could vaguely make out the ferociousness in his eyes, the sheer scorn. He looked like he was ready to go on a rampage, ready to hurt someone or something. I envied that look. It was one of my favorite looks.

Behind me, Difo's voice suddenly sounded from the vault entrance. "Boss Metsuma, the drill is on display and ready for inspection!"

I spun, catching the faint smile playing on the mad scientist's lips as he observed Viper's latest burn mark from a distance. I was about ready to take my leave, but turned to ensure all the evidence was smoldering down. There was a small handful of files scattered about the table, either untouched or unaffected by the flames.

Viper glanced up at me, swallowing hard.

I gestured to the unmarred documentation. "Burn the rest of this. Go crazy." My voice was even, indifferent. It seemed to take on a neutral tone, as if nothing had happened. "Just make sure it never sees the light of day again."

He nodded slowly, his voice just a little bit on the shaky side but not missing a beat. "O—Of course, sir."

Smiling felicitously, I took that as my cue to leave and followed Difo into the corridor outside. Only one order of business left for the evening.

…...

The moment Metsuma was gone, Viper used his uninjured arm to fish for his lighter and start burning the rest of the evidence. Despite his inner umbrage, he had to follow orders and wipe Cayman's past clean. It was the only way to break down Anna's investigation.

He stopped at one photograph, however. A photograph that looked like it belonged in a locket. A photograph probably taken years ago. It was a photograph of Cayman's mother, alive and well. She looked beautiful, stunning, so full of love and life. No wonder poor Cayman was so fond of her.

The air felt colder than ever now, but not stifling with the vibe of death. Viper still felt fear, but this fear felt further away and was muffled by the strong desire to see Cayman rise to power and end this madness. He wanted it now more than ever, despite his earlier doubts. There just had to be a way.

After fixating on Cayman's mother for another full minute, he made up his mind and quickly tucked the photograph away in his pocket, saving it for a rainy day. Then, as if nothing had happened, he proceeded to burn everything else.

…...

"We have a team examining the interior," Difo explained, walking me through the hangar, a smile delicately etched on his face as we approached the rotary transport situated in the center floor. "It's absolutely marvelous, isn't it?"

Pushing through the bustling masses of engineer techs, I examined the massive drill in front of me, pondering the possibilities. It truly was a work of art. "How many passengers can it hold?"

Difo turned to me with fevered eyes. "Well... I hadn't really estimated—"

"You have the schematics?", I cut him down before he could finish. I was admittedly enthusiastic over this.

"They were inside the drill," he guffed back with a nod.

"Good," I exhaled, the breath slow and measured. "You'll need them to duplicate this. We'll need at least a dozen of these in the foreseeable future."

He stood there with a crooked look and drew in a rattled breath. "Sir?", he gasped, adjusting his glasses, as if that was somehow the issue. "Is that possible?"

"You're a scientist, Difo," I pointed out clearly, dropping pretenses and staring the lab magician straight in the eye. "This is your area of expertise. Consider it a challenge. No more field assignments until this project is underway." I opted my words with a smile, then raised my hands reverently to the machine. "This is the future of Nightfall."

"But it's simply not possible!", he protested, panic rising in his voice. "It's not logical!" His words fell past my ears and dropped to the filthy ground, where they belonged.

I had little patience for his lack of faith. I reeled to face him, sending a detectable shiver down his thinly spine. "You're going to lecture me on what's logical?", I chuckled, leering like a starving Arbok. "When has logic ever stood in my way?"

He was dead quiet, unwilling to reply—maybe just incapable of it. Perhaps he was searching himself for a response.

"The answer to that question is running rampant all over Saffron City." The words were immediate and took no thought. I meant what I said. And before he could articulate any of it, I was already waltzing zestfully to the exit, thinking him effectively silenced.

Not a chance. "S—Saffron?", his voice echoed behind me, directed to his lab techs, yet all-too-easy for even my ears to descry. "What is he talking about? What happened in Saffron?"

To this, my smile only expanded. I could just visualize the chaos in my mind.

…...

The noise was deafening; screams, yells, and grunts of pain ran through the streets of Saffron City, upsetting the usual nighttime peace.

Flashes of blue and yellow lit up the metropolis. An electric current hung in the air as Voltorbs and Electrodes alike trundled across the city, detonating into buildings and terrorizing innocent pedestrians with blasts after blasts of Thunderbolts.

Pockets of resistant, local and visiting trainers, heroically pursued these mechanical monsters every which way, some trying to capture them with Pokéballs and others trying to vanquish them with Pokémon of their own, countless lives on the line.

Great roaring explosions rippled through intended rapport. It was madness, brought upon by science, or nature, or the impossible design of one man.

Because logic wasn't always logical.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Next Chapter: On the eve of the Black Moon, Anna and Professor Wade suspect Metsuma might try something, while Metsuma blackmails the Saffron Mafia into helping him set a trap for Clint. Meanwhile, Cayman begins to connect the dots about both his past and his heritage.)