Antithesis

by BlackVelvett Revolver

Plagued by dreams of clashing dragons, Kendra struggles against her growing destiny as a Hero and begins to be an unwilling player against her greatest rival, N. Neither can deny their fate, lust, nor love that binds them together. Atypical journey fic!

14. Glimpse of Darkness

Glimpse of Darkness

---

Pretentious yawned, her gaping mouth stretching as her barbed tongue curled, displaying perfect rows of pointed teeth. How she wished she could sharpen her claws on the starchy bedding that was beneath her, but she knew her trainer wouldn't appreciate the action. Still… She could give it a shot.

Stretching out her front paws, she spread her toes as far as they could go, extending her black claws so they could innocently sink into the pale blue bed sheet. Her eyes gleamed; just the thought of shredding the material was almost irresistible!

"Pretty…" Cheren's warning was plain in his voice as well as his admonishment.

She perked at her name and turned her heterochromia iridium eyes towards her trainer, tilting her head to the side in such a way that always made him melt and let her get away with anything. Since her evolution her eyes had changed; one remained a steely teal blue while the other changed to a vibrant green ringed with amber, making her look more exotic and stranger than normal. Though he hailed the transition with happiness and awe everything changed the night she evolved.

Her feigned innocence didn't work.

Cheren gave her the evil eye and wasn't going to budge.

Pretty harrumphed. Ever since she had evolved her cute factor has disappeared. Suddenly, Cheren expected her to act like a lady since she was no longer a kitten. She missed the days when he would carry her in his arms, place her on his shoulder, or let her curl up next to him while they slept; treating her like the princess that she was! Now that she was a fully realized Liepard her height came to his hip. She was a big cat still getting use to her elongated and taller frame; which put her in a sour mood most of the time. Why wouldn't he just let her rip apart these paltry linens? She wasn't used to not getting her way.

A hand suddenly appeared behind her right ear and she melted into the assaulting caress. Bianca's hands were like her own, slightly clawed. She enjoyed that this human had longer nails than her trainer, giving her the best scratch she had in a long while.

"I can't believe your Purrlion evolved so quickly, Cheren. She's really beautiful." Bianca commented on the vain cat, smiling as the violet feline leaned into her touch and began purring loudly.

"She's a handful. Be careful she doesn't try to crawl in your lap. I don't think she's really realized that she's bigger than she used to be." Cheren told her seriously, not wanting any more harm to come to his best friend. He had been extremely pleased when Pretentious had evolved, but quickly figured out that the change was something they both had to adjust to. When she had been a Purrlion she would leap into his arms when she wanted attention or comfort or praise. He had seen the wheels in her head turning and tried to stop her, but after they had won a trainer battle, she had leapt into his arms like she always would. They fell to the ground in a tumble of fur and limbs, each shocked at the outcome for their own reasons. Since then, Cheren had to let go of carrying his precious Pretty and Pretty had to give up ever really being in his arms. To her, it wasn't fair that Siren could still be held; it was almost like a slap in the face every time she saw them as jealousy stabbed her in the heart. They were in a love hate relationship now.

As if to prove it, she gave him a venomous glare at his comment.

I'm not going to crush her! She growled, making Bianca's hand still. Pretty rolled her eyes. Oh, please. I may be bigger, but I'm not a brute. She pressed her head into Bianca's hand and rubbed, practically begging for her to continue her administrations.

Her smile lit her face, but the expression quickly fell away. "I miss Luna…" Bianca sighed.

Cheren sat by her side on the bed. "We'll find her, Bi. Kendra is at the police station now. And soon we'll be looking for her together." He held onto her fingers that were exposed from her cast, gently caressing each knuckle.

"I hope so." Bianca nodded, smiling at Cheren, trying to put on a brave front. "It's just… With everything that Burgh is saying…"

Cheren's temper immediately ignited. "Don't listen to that jack ass! He doesn't know what he's saying." In a furious fit, he had tossed out both Burgh and Iris from their examination room. They weren't helping the situation at all. Bianca needed rest not more anxiety. The pair of trainers had been in deep conversation about the state of the city, the thefts, organized crime, and gods knew what else while Bianca and Cheren were forced to listen. He couldn't stand the little jumps the pulse monitor would display when Bianca's nerves rose at what she was hearing.

Shedding his outer desert garb and head scarf, he made his thoughts known like he always did; bluntly.

"If you guys are just gonna keep hammering away, then you can discuss it elsewhere." He stomped to the exam door and opened it, gesturing them to leave.

"Cheren, it's okay, really! They can stay." Bianca tried to soothe the raven-haired boy. She didn't want to create more waves for the people who had done nothing but help her.

"No, Bi, it's not. I don't like hearing all their doom and gloom talk around you. We're going to get Luna back." Cheren silenced her with his stoic stare before gazing hotly at the gym leader and Iris. "I'd like you to leave, please."

Burgh smiled jovially, easing the tension that hovered in the air. "We didn't mean to overstay our welcome."

"Yeah, we were only helping." Iris snorted as she folded her arms across her chest, clearly peeved. "You don't have to act like such a sour kid." She added as an aside.

"It's appreciated, but now Bianca needs to rest." Cheren said tightly, but was unyielding as he against gestured to the awaiting hallway outside.

"I hope you find your Pokémon, Bianca." Burgh nodded to the blond.

"Thank you for everything." Bianca waved tentatively, flustered.

Cheren rolled his eyes and pushed the door shut when the pair had left, satisfied with the loud slam.

"Cheren, that was really rude." She chided, but inwardly she was grateful.

He ignored her and instead examined the monitor, which had calmed down significantly. "I don't care. I only care about you."

The words touched her deeply and made her heart clench. She hid her face behind her bangs to cover her blush.

Silence reigned through the exam room; the only sounds had been Pretty's purrs, the beeping of the monitor, and the ticking of the clock. The two friends had settled into a quiet that was companionable. The blonde's Pokémon were sitting on the nightstand, minus one companion, safely within their Pokéballs. Bianca pushed back the tears that were welling just behind her eyes when she thought of her poor Munna.

"It's going to be alright." Cheren assured her, his fingers still gently massaging her own.

"How do you know?" Bianca hiccupped, trying in vain to cover up her tears. She looked away from the boy next to her.

A hand snared her chin and pulled her back to face him. They were mere inches apart and for the first time in a long while she got to really see his eyes. He had taken off his glasses, exposing his onyx irises to the light. She could see the flecks of silver mixed with the ebony there, made brighter with the emphasis of emotion that poured out behind them. His dispassionate features gave way to an awash of concern and depth that struck her to her core.

With the pad of his thumb he brushed away a stray tear before it could mark a trail down her heart shaped face.

"I just do." He told her firmly.

Bianca flushed at hearing those words. Somehow, in some crazy way, she believed him. She would always believe him. He was never wrong. Using her free hand, she covered his, pressing it closer to her face.

"Thank you." She sighed, exhausted.

Cheren swallowed, his heart racing. "Anything for you, Bi."

They stayed like that for a while before Bianca finally pulled away.

"I'm so tired." She stretched as much as her achy body would allow. "All I wanna do is sleep." She yawned.

Cheren cleared his throat. "The doctor said you weren't allowed to sleep until after we get your MRI results."

He could hear the pout in her voice when she said, "Then keep me awake!"

A smirk set up residence on his face as he leaned back. "You want me to some magic tricks?" He asked, his voice dead panned, one dark brow raised in expectation.

"No." She said quickly, then paused. "Do you know any magic tricks?" She asked, curious.

Her friend snorted as he fished in his backpack. "No. But I do have this." He produced two decks of playing cards. "You want to play?"

"Oh, you've got two! Let's play Double Solitare." She smiled. Leaning up, she rose from bed and crossed her legs, patting the foot of the bed in an inviting manner.

Cheren didn't hesitate as he pushed Pretty from the bed. The big cat mewled plaintively at having to move, but quickly jumped up again and wound her way around Cheren's back before settling in for a cat nap.

"Think you can keep up with what's going on?" Cheren smiled darkly, "I hear you hit your head pretty hard." He teased.

"You're just hoping I'm brain damaged, aren't you? I hope you're right, otherwise it will be pretty embarrassing for you when you lose." She giggled as she began shuffling her deck and setting up the playing field. "But you'll look bad for beating me, seeing how I'm injured and all."

"Sounds like quite a predicament." He mused as he prepared his cards. "Three down, every time. No singles. Got that?" He looked up in challenge, his heart racing when she tossed her sun kissed hair in a playful way before winking at him.

"Such a challenge." She scoffed before drawing her first three cards. "Let's play."

---

The sun had climbed, and it was late afternoon, but time was speeding by and evening was starting to set in. Kendra needed to hurry back to Bianca's side. Checking her watch, she looked about her at the street signs to help orient herself within the city. It was so vast! Pulling out her crumpled map, she smoothed it over her knee and squinted at the crinkled print. She needed to find an information booth to get a better one; she treated this one so horribly.

Mercer watched her for a moment, amused as she flicked her eyes between the map and the street signs while turning the piece of paper around and around. Playing "I Spy" with minute street names wasn't one of his favorite pass times and he was gratified to know that the youth next to him had just as much difficulty.

After several minutes of silence between the pair and a few exasperated sighs from Kendra, Mercer finally leaned over and said, "Do you know where we are, because I'm lost?"

Kendra gulped and looked up at him, eyes round. She was hoping that he had some vague idea of where they were. She had a hard enough time finding the stupid police station as it was, let alone paying attention to where she was going when following the middle-aged cop beside her. She had the bad habit of going on autopilot when she was with someone, something that her mother had chided and warned her about to the point of harassing her daughter. Now she wished her mother had nagged a thousand and one times instead of a thousand.

"Ummm…" She ventured as she peered down at the map in front of her.

Mercer let out a gruff laugh before walking, "Come on, Ms. White. I was only yankin' your chain."

Kendra nearly swooned from relief since she really had no idea where she was. The street signs within the city were posted in the oddest of places. Some were on the sides of buildings, others were attached to lamp posts, streetlights, or utility poles, and still others seemed to be nonexistent. Other than flagging a cab, her efforts in trying to navigate the big, bad city would have been rather fruitless.

"You could have said you knew, ya know." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And miss you giving me one of your scowls?" He teased easily, pushing his pack of cigarettes in his pant pocket. "So where am I taking you?"

"You don't have to take me anywhere, if you could just point me in the right direction…" Kendra began, but stopped when Mercer grabbed the wrinkled map from her hands, wadded it up in a tight ball, and tossed it into the nearest trashcan. "Hey!"

"You should use that Xtransceiver, anyways." He asked again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Where am I taking you, Ms. White?"

"You're more annoying outside the interrogation room than inside." Kendra accused.

Mercer smiled, "You're just as entertaining outside. Not many have the gumption to talk back to Chief Jenny."

Kendra vividly remembered her time in Nacrene and still had a foul taste in her mouth from the experience. "No one believed me, can you blame me?" She didn't think she had gumption; she just finally snapped that day. She had been exhausted to the point of throwing a tantrum like some small, disturbed child.

"I believe you, or at least I believe there is something more to the story." He shrugged. "Still don't think you've told me everything." He cast her a sideways glance and didn't fail to notice how the young lady next to him went suddenly quiet, straight faced, and rigid.

"I need to go back to the hospital." She changed the subject.

Mercer nodded and together they walked in silence back to Saint Mercy's. Kendra appreciated the escort; she didn't feel comfortable in this city. There was something about it that kept her teeth on edge. It was as if there was some deep, dark secret that was writhing beneath the hustle and sunshine of the city, something that was growing, yawning awake, and biding time. Since setting foot in Castelia, Kendra couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was at work here. A shiver passed through her when she thought about Mercer and his wanting to delve into the mystery that was becoming her life. Just like with Lenora, she had to hedge around the real issues, something that was difficult for her to do, but she felt it was necessary.

Mindi dying wasn't an accident. That she knew was truth. It scared her to know that Mercer also agreed with her, believed her, and was willing to put his career on the line for what she only suspected. She felt like Alice sliding down the Buneary hole, only now she was wishing she had some wise Cheshire Meowth or sarcastic Caterpie to talk to. Instead she was left with hundreds of questions and nightmares to comfort her.

"We're here, Ms. White." Mercer stopped, ignoring the fact that the young woman crashed into him before she could stop herself.

Kendra quickly apologized and looked up at the front façade of the hospital with some trepidation as her teeth worried over her bottom lip. She glanced at Mercer before looking away. She wanted him to go with her so that she had something to show for her hours of absence. Officer Mercer could help them on what to do next and his presence, as much as she loathed admitting, was soothing. Here was someone who somewhat believed her story that something bigger was going on. Here was someone who, even though he didn't know all the details, had some kernel of faith in her. Here was someone whose mind was sharpened and trained to see patterns and big pictures. He could help her in more ways than one, but—she glanced back at Mercer as he watched her coolly. She had already imposed upon him, was it right of her to demand more from him?

"Just spit it out, Ms. White." Mercer frowned. As entertaining as her moping looks were, they were exasperating.

Dispelling a gust of air, Kendra was relieved that he understood that she wanted to speak with him more. "Would you come up with me and talk to Bianca? I don't know what to do next with this whole theft thing."

Mercer could easily guess that the girl wasn't used to asking for outside help with anything. From what he gathered back in Nacrene she was fiercely independent. It would explain the hesitation.

"Of course." He smiled easily, walking into the building.

Kendra blinked and frowned a bit. She didn't think it would be that easy to convince Mercer to come with her. "Just like that? I thought you were busy with your investigation." Didn't he have something better to do?

"If you don't want my help, Ms. White, I can just as easily leave." He stopped in the main lobby and arched a dark brow at her.

"No, that's not what I meant. Thank you!" She immediately back peddled. "I just thought you'd be too busy…" She trailed off, suspicious.

"I consider this part of the investigation." He told her in clipped tones as they walked into an elevator. Mercer waited as the doors closed and they were alone within the tiny enclosure. He looked up at the ceiling and rocked back and forth on the heels of his loafers. A short whistle came out of his lips before he looked at Kendra and coughed pointedly at the number pad to his left.

"Oh!" Kendra leant around him and punched the floor number, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She felt like such a bumbling idiot around the guy, she didn't understand it. It wasn't as if he was difficult to talk to, she was just surprised with how easy going he was to be around. She was even more surprised to find how comfortable she was with him.

The elevator dinged and the silver doors opened as Kendra lead the cop down a crisp hallway before opening the door to Bianca's room. Kendra's eyes widened at what she saw.

Cheren had climbed onto Bianca's bed so that they were side by side. Her golden head rested peacefully on his shoulder just under his chin while his arms were wrapped protectively around her. His soft expression and possessive hold on the young girl in his arms spoke volumes. A purring Pretty was draped over their legs, a violet ear swiveled in their direction at the noise, but the big cat did little else in acknowledgement.

Kendra quietly slipped in with Mercer quick behind her.

"They an item?"

Kendra had to think on that one. "They're friends." She shrugged, knowing that Bianca would be on cloud nine now and crow that they were more than just friends, but Cheren she wasn't so sure.

"Pft." Mercer rolled his eyes. He supposed the meaning of friends had changed over time.

"Cheren." Kendra whispered loudly to her friend, touching him on the shoulder.

His onyx eyes blinked open in the low light of the room. He had tapped the lights down with a bedside keypad. His already troubled vision was blurred from the fast nap he had dozed in. He felt his glasses being shoved on his face and he scowled up at the offending hands. Carefully, he adjusted them on his face with his own free hand. He refused to acknowledge that knowing smile that was plastered on his friend's face.

"I thought she wasn't supposed to go to sleep." Kendra whispered, putting her hands on her hips. Should she be merciful?

Cheren scowled but looked gently at the friend he held in his arms, his mind whirring. "Her results came in; it was a mild case as far as concussions are concerned. They gave her a stronger pain killer that made her sleepy, but they said it was okay for her to sleep so long as she's being monitored." He tried to extricate himself from the blond but failed, not that he was trying very hard anyways. A blush tinted his cheeks when she snuggled closer in response. He gave up and glanced back at Mercer who was busy looking at a piece of hanging art within the room. His dark eyes darted towards Kendra's; he had to distract her from the obvious. "Who is he?"

"That's Officer Mercer. He came to help." She enjoyed the way how he was ignoring the Mamoswine in the room. She would be merciful. A smile spread further across her face, making Cheren squirm.

Cheren eyed the man with speculation. "What kind of cop goes around dressed like that?" He asked bluntly.

"Cheren!" Kendra hushed him, refraining from slugging him in the shoulder. Bianca was acting as his temporary protection; otherwise she would have to shut him up.

"The kind that is working unofficially out of his jurisdiction, kid, unless you don't want my help." Mercer gave the boy a side long glance before sitting down in a nearby chair.

"Be nice." Kendra huffed as she pulled the portable nightstand out and used it as a short stool so that she was between the officer and her friend. "I asked him to come, he's a good guy."

Cheren didn't miss the deprecating grin that slithered across Mercer's face at hearing that. "Fine, I was just expecting bureaucratic paperwork, not a person."

"Speaking of people, where did Burgh and Iris go?"

Cheren looked away towards the door and frowned as he said seriously, "I threw them out. They were upsetting Bianca."

Kendra clapped her hands over her face. "Cheren! What am I going to do with you?" She wailed quietly. "They're trying to help too. I can't believe you threw them out like that."

"Well they were upsetting and worrying Bianca. I wasn't going to let them keep spouting their doom and gloom around her."

"There is nothing wrong with a healthy dose of reality, kid."

Cheren glared at the unwanted visitor. "I am not a child." He countered.

The pair stared at each other, one with a single-minded determination, and the other with nonplussed regard. Kendra wanted to ring some sort of bell and tell them to go back to their corners. Perhaps she had been too generous when she thought that Mercer was a good guy, he seemed to ruffle feathers wherever he went.

"So, Officer Mercer, the Castelia city police have refused to help, what do we do next?" Kendra asked as sweetly as possible, trying to drop a hint.

Cheren's gaze whipped to Kendra's. "They didn't want to help?" He was alarmed that Burgh was right.

"We need a character sketch." Mercer said firmly as he crossed his arms over his chest, regarding the sleeping blonde.

Cheren's grip on her tightened. "She told me everything she knew over the phone; I can answer any questions."

"As nice as your knight and shining armor routine is, kid," Mercer sneered over the title as he reached into his pant pocket, "Hold these." He pushed his cigarette pack and lighter into Kendra's hands before his hand dove back in, "I doubt you knew the right questions to ask." He procured a small spiral notepad and a pen. Flipping it open to a blank page he looked up at Cheren expectantly. "Wake her up."

"She needs to rest." Cheren protested.

Mercer wasn't impressed.

Before her friend could get more riled up, she appealed to his logos. "Cheren," She placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "I know she's tired and had a hard day," Kendra could sympathize, she still couldn't get over the past couple of days and hours herself, "But the longer we wait the harder it will be to find her Luna. Don't you think it's more important in the long run to wake her now than to tell her later that we couldn't find her Pokémon?"

The cool touch of logic was like a balm to Cheren's mind. He always prided himself on his use of logical thinking and he was ashamed to think that his emotions had gotten the better of him at such a time. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and gently shook Bianca awake.

"Bi, wake up, Kendra's back." He quickly untangled himself from the blond as she slowly came back from the drug induced sleep. Pretentious followed her trainer. Bianca was groggy and confused and wanted nothing more than to sink back into oblivion while snuggling up against Cheren. But suddenly her blustering knight errant didn't even want to look at her as he got out of bed, leaving behind a swath of cold air in his wake. She missed the warmth immediately as she curled up into a ball and pulled the covers tightly over her, owlish eyes wide.

"Hey Kendra…" She mumbled; her voice rough from slumber.

Mercer watched as Kendra's face melted into tender concern and love for her companion as they linked hands. It was the first time he had ever seen the brunette so warm. He scooted closer when she beckoned him near, and he began his interview. Cheren remained in the far corner of the room; arms crossed over his chest as he watched with hawkish eyes from afar. Any time Bianca cast him a look he turned his face away and peered out the window, appearing for all the world as someone uninterested in the present; cool, calm, untouchable. Pretty sat tall and proud by his side, her only obvious show of agitation was her twitching tail as she mirrored what Cheren failed to express outwardly. All the while, Mercer was firing off question after question as he took notes and sketched periodically. Kendra sat back and let the officer have the floor, smiling a bit when some of the questions seemed vaguely familiar, and slipped away to stand next to Cheren so she wasn't such a distraction to Bianca, leaving behind Mercer's smoking articles on the nightstand.

"So how do you know this guy?" Cheren probed quietly.

Kendra knew that was coming. "He was the one who interrogated me back in Nacrene."

His eyes widened. "What happened back in Nacrene?" When Kendra didn't answer he thought back to his readings in the paper and wanted to fall over. "You were involved in the museum heist?" He whispered accusingly; his fierce eyes bright.

"It was the case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time." She responded reproachfully. Her spirits sank; she didn't want him finding out in such a way.

"By all that is good and holy, Kendra, why didn't you say anything?" He turned towards her, catching the pair's attention.

"Keep it down." She admonished, and smiled brilliantly at Mercer, encouraging him to ignore them. When he and Bianca were once more engaged in conversation, Kendra's spine snapped ramrod straight as she turned to Cheren. "It wasn't like I had the chance. I barely got into the city before I ran into Hilbert and was called by Bianca." She defended; her words acerbic.

"You ran into your half-brother?" Cheren gaped. His friend seemed peeved that he happened to remember an obscure part of her family tree. He sobered quickly, "You should have said something!"

"When? There hasn't been time, Bianca needs us now, and I'm fine." She stamped her foot for emphasis. Hell, she wasn't going to tell him that she also ran into N again, or that he could have easily killed her, and instead of getting mad at him like any normal person would she locked lips with him instead! A flush of pleasure passed through her frame as she recalled the kiss, but the sentiment was quickly squashed when she remembered that he had only done that to keep her from asking questions.

The pair remained silent for a moment, but it didn't last long. Not when Cheren was all fired up now that he had something to project his frustrations on.

"Don't think I've forgotten our previous conversations. I know there were Plasma undertones in that museum fiasco. The fact that you were there practically screams that they're connected." He shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at Mercer. "You two act familiar. Why is he here?"

"I told you, I asked him to help." Kendra hedged. Damn, Cheren was observant! He even noticed that she was comfortable with the middle-aged cop.

"Stop being purposefully obtuse, Kendra. Why is he here?" Her secrets were doing her case more harm than good!

She sighed. "I told him my story and that I suspected that Plasma was a bigger animal than what we saw. Out of all the police who questioned me, he is the only one who thinks there might be something to it." She didn't have to mention Mindi's death.

Cheren puffed out a burst of air as he silently laughed. "That's obvious. Glad he's got more of a brain than he seems."

Kendra punched him lightly in the arm. "Be nice!" She hissed.

Cheren rubbed his arms and scooted farther away from his best friend. "You like him."

Before Kendra could even think about that statement, the man in question called her over.

"Ms. White, does this look familiar to you?" He tossed his sketch pad to her just as she turned.

Catching it out of reflex, the brunette fumbled for a bit before steadying. She peered down at the exquisitely sketched portrait with unfamiliar eyes.

"Doesn't ring any bells?" He asked as he leaned back from his seat.

"Should she?" She asked, perplexed.

"If Ms. Reynolds' description is accurate, then I think we've met this girl."

A moment of clarity hit her as she remembered the conversation earlier. A girl had bumped her, that was sure, she had a happy look on her face despite the fact she was considered dirty, but that's all she could recall. Any details were blurred in her memory.

"Maybe, are you sure?"

"I never forget a face." Mercer shrugged. He didn't boast of having a photographic memory for nothing.

"Then what do we do now?"

"Now we search. I can think of a few typical places we can comb through, but we're going to need help." He looked longingly at the innocent pack of cigarettes under the lamp light. His lips twitched for a puff.

"I've got Eirene." Kendra fished for her necklace and pulled off her Pidove's Pokéball and quickly released the gray dove. In a brilliant burst of light, the little bird emerged, puffing her chest and stretching her wings before settling down on Kendra's shoulder seeking affection.

"That's a start." Mercer sighed.

"I can lend you Tempest." Cheren offered, procuring his own Pokéball, a Tranquill burst from its ball, cooing quietly, looking with expectation from his trainer.

Eirene peered at the other Pokémon with interest and, for the first time, abandoned her trainer's side to investigate the other Tranquill. The proud bird did his best to ignore Eirene's big amber eyes.

"So two people and Pokémon in a city containing millions. Brilliant." Mercer mocked.

"We're trying here!" Kendra snapped, her hands on her hips. "It's not our fault that the police here are corrupt." She huffed.

"You think so too?" He asked, bemused, his smile easy.

"I'm sure Burgh would be more than willing to offer some assistance." Cheren chimed in, deadpanned. "I'm going to stay here with Bianca."

Mercer pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ms. Reynolds," He said finally, "I'm not going to lie to you. The odds of finding your Munna are slim. It's a needle in a haystack among a hay field. But I'm willing to try; I want you to understand that, if we fail."

"I understand. Thank you, Mr. Mercer." Bianca smiled as a few tears slipped down her checks.

Mercer immediately got up and offered his place to Cheren. "I believe this is where you come in, knight." He couldn't deal with weepy women, couldn't bear them. He hated to see them cry, he had no stomach for it, it always tore him to pieces when they did. He quickly maneuvered out of the way and rejoined Kendra.

"Tempest, follow Kendra, do as she asks." Cheren quickly ordered his Pokémon. The Tranquill bobbed its head as it began walking towards Kendra, his clawed feet clicking on the tile floor as he waggled her way, Eirene close on his heels. He and Bianca waved their goodbyes as the quartet left the room and made their way back down the lobby.

"Cheery fellow." Mercer mused as he punched for the lobby.

"Don't take it personally; he's like that with everyone." Kendra shrugged it off.

"You take after him, you know."

"What do you mean?" Kendra asked, confused.

"You act really cheery when people ask you the right questions." He explained as the elevator dinged and he stepped out of the metal box. They made their way to the lobby and were about to leave when a voice shouted from the other end of the hall.

"Kendra!"

The pair turned and saw that Burgh was running up to meet them. "Any luck?" He asked, a cheeky smirk plastered on his face.

Kendra frowned, "Yes, actually, this is Officer Mercer and he's offered to help." She couldn't help but snipe back, wanting to wipe that arrogant grin from his face.

Burgh expressed genuine surprise and offered a hand in greeting. "Burgh Dürer, Castelia city gym leader, entomologist, artist, and Pokémon advocate." He took Mercer's outstretched hand and shook.

He recognized posturing when he saw it. "Anthony Mercer, policeman of Nacrene city, fishing enthusiast, and hypocrite. Let's walk and talk." He pulled out a cigarette and made to exit the building.

"You went all the way to Nacrene to find a clean cop?" Burgh asked, smiling.

"I do excellent work, Burgh." Kendra shrugged, following Mercer. "Are you going to help us look for Bianca's Munna? Because that's what we're doing."

"Might as well, if I help it will show I am that serious about wanting the police to do a better job." Burgh said seriously. "I want to do what I can to help."

"Good." Mercer nodded as he lit up. Fishing in his pocket he pulled out the character sketch. "This is what we're looking for. She may be wearing a hat. I've got a few ideas where to start so let's get a move on. Sun is going down and we're losing time." He began a fast pace.

Kendra took the sketch out of Burgh's hands and showed it to both Tempest and Eirene. "This is the person we're looking for. I want you to scope the city from the air. If you find anyone that looks similar to this come and get us." She stroked Eirene's head before scratching under her chin. "And please," she said quietly, "Be careful."

She turned back to Burgh. "Where's Iris?"

"Doing research."

Kendra shrugged as she turned back to her Pokémon.

The two birds took flight into the dimming afternoon. As they moved out from a shadow cast by a skyscraper, their silver wings caught the fierce orange rays of sunlight, making them glint golden in the city haze. Eirene pumped her tiny wings twice as hard to keep up with her partner. A brighter shine enveloped her body as fragments of light exploded around her in an angelic halo, revealing a classic cycle of rebirth.

"She's evolving!" Kendra squinted into the sun as her heart swelled with pride, but then… Her little Eirene didn't evolve for her. She had a sneaking suspicion that her dove transformed to impress Cheren's Tempest.

Falling behind, Kendra caught up with Burgh and Mercer and kept pace with the two men as they engaged in a serious conversation of what was going on within the city. A few hours passed as they made their rounds throughout the city, combing through various areas, but everywhere they went they found nothing of substance. The brunette was loath to release more of her Pokémon to enlist their aid in the search for fear she would never see them again. She had lost the wonder and marvel that the metropolis could have offered the moment she set foot in Castelia. It was a dangerous place; Bianca was proof of that. It was potentially deadly as well, Mindi hadn't stood a chance. A shiver passed through her as she thought about Mindi. Two people had died from the Nacrene incident and Kendra couldn't help but recall the way that silver haired murderer had made a slitting motion over his own neck while staring straight at her. Was she next? Was she courting death just by being here? What if more people were going to die simply because they were connected to the Nacrene city theft?

Kendra's gaze quickly settled on the backs of the two men in front of her as her heart lurched in her chest. What if they were next? What if they were risking their lives just by being here, helping her?

---

Evening was falling across the city as shadows lengthened, casting serious doubt and trepidation upon the plum haired girl. Perhaps it was a bad idea to flee during the night, everything bad happened at night.

"Pull yourself together, Maggie." She rumbled to herself. "Just because you saw him doesn't mean you're done." It couldn't be over; her new life had hardly even begun!

But there was no reason to kid herself. She needed to vacate as soon as possible. Things were getting a bit too real here in the big, bad city. She had enough money for the train ticket out of Unova, and when she set foot outside of that train station there was a whole new world of possibilities. No one would know her, no one would recognize her, and no one would know that she had once been a worthless, homeless, street urchin. No, she would be better. She would do better. This was her second chance at life. No more feeling sorry for herself that her parents abandoned her. No more playing the victim at the orphanage. No more running from her problems. When she reached her final destination, she would be like the legendary Moltres! From the barren ashes she would be born again in the bright flames of light and life and she would be a good person.

It was all she ever wanted. A second chance. A chance at change.

Now was her moment. She had saved up enough money to buy a train ticket out of hell to practically paradise.

She folded up her most recent donation box pillaging; a few pairs of decent jeans, a sweater, and some socks. Her duffle bag had been patched up as best she could with a bit of stitching and some creative patchwork duct tape, but it would hold on her journey. She had shed her oversized clothes for a more fitting blue jumper that clashed horribly with her combat running boots, but she could care less. It was the closest thing she could find in her size. She was saving every penny for her new life.

A shadow passed overhead that jerked the young girl from her inner musings and her eyes darted furtively towards the heavens. A pair of birds was soaring overhead in intricate circles. She pushed back her bedraggled hair to get a better look. The pair looked as if they were dancing upon the wind, completely in synch.

Maggie had to smile to herself; she had never waxed poetic about anything in her life. The smile grew wider with appreciation. That change that she so desperately craved was already beginning to happen.

She waved goodbye to the birds as they sped off together.

There was one more stop before she could leave and that was the local women's shelter. There she could get a hot meal to tide her over on her train trip and get a real shower. The thought of being truly clean elated her beyond the point of happiness and almost brought her to tears. A wave of emotion crashed over her as she finally realized that the day had finally come! She was leaving! She was free!

A bubble of laughter erupted from her chest at the thought. She had scarcely allowed herself to dare to even think of her future these past few hours, fearing that she was going to wake up from a dream.

Hefting her bag onto her shoulder she gave her latest dwelling place a final look. She had made her nest near an abandoned shipyard, one that was always empty given the current economic circumstances. This place had been shut down long ago and the commercial property was never dealt with and so it could wallow and languish; which was perfect for her. Picking a little piece of it for herself, she had screened it off with various debris, making it look like there really wasn't a person living there. Now that she had cleaned out anything worth taking it really did look like no one lived there.

Never again… She promised herself. Never again would she be living like some gutter rat in the streets.

There was nothing to say goodbye to because there was nothing worth wasting breath over.

Making her way out of the abandoned building, she pushed the final panel out of her way and embraced the salted sea air of the bay. The stars were just starting to peek through from behind the hazy sunset. Pushing the panel shut, she cringed for the last time as the metal grated against concrete when three long shadows slashed across her own.

Her heart leapt in her chest. Did they know? Had they come for her? No! It couldn't be! She had only seen him, why would all three be here now?

She quickly whirled around to stare at the three intruders and had to take a step back at what she saw.

"Who are you?" She growled, clutching her duffle bag. She wanted to curse at herself; she was telegraphing that this bag was important to her, not a good thing to do when it was you against the world. Buried within her clothes and belongings was a tin stuffed to the gills with money. She would fight tooth and nail to keep it. Her eyes widened. What did the Castelia city gym leader want with her?

"I want to know if you've run into this girl." Kendra said as she approached the girl in front of her carefully, holding up a picture of her and her two friends. She pointed at the blond girl in the photo.

Maggie gave the photo a scathing glance. "Who wants to know?"

Mercer shifted where he stood and took out his police badge and flashed it. "Is this good enough?" His smile was crooked, but his eyes were severe as he watched for any subtle cues from the girl before him as his police training kicked into high gear. His assessment of her told him that she was a flight risk, distrustful, and willing to brawl it out if cornered. Concern lanced through him as he watched Kendra approach the girl.

Maggie laughed outright. "You're going to arrest me? That's funny."

"Why is that?" Burgh countered.

"I know every crooked cop in this shitty town," Her face turned dark and accusing, but boastful, "None of them would touch me."

Burgh muttered a curse under his breath, her conviction further proof of what he already suspected. He had talked it over with Mercer while they were out combing the city and the man agreed that there was foul play going on within the precinct. This girl just confirmed it.

"I didn't say I was going to book you, at least not in this city." Mercer's threat ripped through the girl in front of him like a hot knife.

She glanced at the photo again and recognized little Miss Sunshine, the girl she had pickpocketed just hours before. Her eyes locked with the girl's in front of her and she couldn't hide that prideful contempt that crept over her face. It was the hit that made her that much money, she wasn't sorry.

"Yeah I've seen her around." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. "She's a shopaholic."

"She's my friend." Kendra spoke lowly.

"She's easy." Maggie sneered, but the words hardly left her lips before a hard hand had connected to her face, shocking her.

Kendra's palm stung as she shook it out, a bit surprised at her own white-hot rage that surfaced so quickly. She took a step back and gave the girl in front of her some space.

"You left her alone and hurt!" Her breath was coming in short bursts as she fisted her hand. Her entire body trembled. She felt a restraining hand on her shoulder, yanking her back from the situation. Mercer's eyes contained a warning as he put himself between her and the girl.

"In the heat of the moment the girl you targeted was injured." Mercer explained, his voice deep and soothing as he cut the tension. He was glad to see that the girl had enough sense to look contrite as she faced him.

"Hurt how?"

"Broken wrist, concussion, and a few scraped and bruises." He told her seriously.

Maggie looked at the ground and imagined that happy face that had made her so angry before. Now all she could picture was that face contorted in pain. "I didn't know I hurt her. It was just a bump."

Kendra opened her mouth to say more but Mercer cut her off. "We just want what was taken back. She doesn't want to press charges. She just wants her Pokémon back."

Maggie gave the man a hard look then glanced at the girl behind him. She looked about the same age as she was. "Is your friend okay?"

Kendra nodded. "She's in the hospital." She replied curtly.

She sighed heavily and clutched her duffle closer. "I don't have what you're looking for."

Silence was her only answer.

"Honest."

"I assume you get some sort of payment for stealing people's Pokémon. If you don't have it, who does?" Burgh asked. Finally, this investigation was getting somewhere. He had an in. There was a system at work here. He was ready to dive right into it and get to the bottom of things.

"You really don't want to know."

"I think we do; we wouldn't have tracked you down otherwise." Kendra scoffed, popping a hip out as she folded her arms over her chest.

"I don't know how far this whole thing goes, to be honest. I'm just the pickpocket. I'm the lowest thing on that food chain." She protested. "Look, I'm sorry about your friend, really. It wasn't anything malicious," She licked her lips a bit as she tried to work that around in her mind; "It could have been anyone."

"Well, it was my friend." Kendra fired back and threw the girl a glare. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to."

"Easy, Ms. White." Mercer chided. "If you can't provide us with her Pokémon, perhaps you can give us some information."

Maggie gave it some thought. "If I tell you all I know, will you let me go? All I want is to get out of this town, start fresh. I'm leaving my old life here."

"What do you know?" Mercer asked, neither confirming nor denying that they had a deal.

Maggie didn't miss it either, but she sighed and relented. "There are hundreds of us. Every time we steal a Pokémon from a trainer, we turn it in, and we get paid. Kinda like the stereotypical bum who collects cans." Her eyes darted to Kendra's angry ones. "We're told to liberate Pokémon from bad trainers, but I just stole from whom ever I came across."

"Do other people do the same?"

"Some, but most are pure to the message. Save Pokémon. That's their gig. Only…" She paused. "I ain't stupid! Sooner or later they're going to run out of bad trainers, and it won't be enough. They're going to target everyone."

"Who?" Burgh pressed.

"They call themselves Liberators and claim they are part of the Pokémon Liberation Movement. But they're more radical. They're the ones who took it upon themselves to start patrolling this city."

Burgh's head was spinning as much as Kendra's.

"Who is a part of this group?"

"I don't know everyone. Like I said it's a small branch, or so they say. I know that they answer to someone higher up. It's bigger than what it seems. They've got the police in their back pocket; if I was ever caught, I was never prosecuted or arrested." Maggie went on. "I think they have even more people tied to this movement, but I don't know who else." She looked up at the sky and the climbing moon. She was itching to leave.

Mercer nodded as he wrote down a few things in his notepad. He glanced at Kendra. "What do you think?" He asked seriously.

Kendra glanced around. "I think what she says is true." She offered.

"What aren't you telling me now?" He asked, aggravated.

Kendra remained silent as she approached the girl, her face thoughtful. "Do you know anything about Team Plasma?"

Maggie's eyes widened. "How do you know about them?" There was no mistaking the creeping fear in her words.

"I was witness to one of their speeches back in Accumula town and I was there when they stole a small child's Pokémon." She offered, and held her gaze with Mercer when she said, "I think they were responsible with what happened in Nacrene."

"Plasma? You mean Plasma Incorporate?" Burgh asked, perplexed.

A memory flashed before her mind. She had written it down! She fished in her bag for her own journal and flipped to the date where she had been at the museum. Some of the exhibits had been excavated with the donations and help of… "Plasma Inc., the name of the company that had donated some time, money, and artifacts to the Old Kingdom exhibit in the Nacrene museum."

Mercer wanted to curse himself. She had said as much during her interrogation, so why hadn't he ever connected the two? He rubbed his eyes. It was because he's been nothing but a mall cop these past few years, he was no detective. Trying to play one now was almost laughable.

"Plasma Incorporated had a building here not far from my gym. It's a conglomerate. I don't know how many different projects it has its fingers in." Burgh mused. "It's run by some administrator and every now and then the CEO comes into town. He and I don't get along." Burgh admitted.

"Look, if Plasma is involved you don't want to be." Maggie said quietly, catching Kendra's attention.

"What do you know of Plasma?" She asked.

"Just what I hear from rumors and none of it is good. Look, this group is filled with fanatics. My advice: just walk away. It's what I'm doing."

"I can't." Kendra said with as much conviction as resignation.

Mercer didn't miss the connotation.

"Where do you do the swap?" He asked. "Who is your contact?"

Maggie rubbed her arm as she bit her lip. She would be in so much trouble if they found out she betrayed them. The silver specter whipped across her mind and her fear multiplied. But she was escaping. She was going as far away as she could, tonight. Maybe she would finally stop running from this place when she reached Kanto or the Orange Islands. The thought of a sunny paradise was incredibly alluring. She would be safe there. She was leaving tonight.

"In the Temple District, there is a bar called Banette's Game. Every night a man who goes by the name of Johns Freed is there. Find him and you might find your Pokémon." That was it. That was everything she knew.

"What does Johns Freed look like?" Mercer asked as he scribbled more in his notepad.

"I don't know; the guy changes his face every time. Just ask for him and say you've got something to share. It's where I go to get my payday. As far as where the Pokémon go after that, I haven't a clue. They assure me that they're set free, but I think they're searching for particular kinds of Pokémon. Munna were on that pay list."

Kendra's eyes widened. "When I was in Straiton I think Plasma was there trying to catch the Munna who live there." She blurted before covering her mouth.

Mercer glared at her. He knew she was holding out on him. How much more was she keeping concealed? The very thought made his blood start to boil.

"That's all I know, I swear. Can I go now?" Maggie asked, her eyes pleading. She was ready to make a run for it otherwise. Her skin was crawling. She had spilled the beans on secrets she swore she never would. If she didn't want any price to pay then she needed to become scarce, quick.

"I suppose." Mercer said quietly. He scribbled his number on a page, tore it out, and gave it to the girl. "If you can think of anything else, please call."

Maggie frowned at the number but shoved it in her duffle bag pocket. She looked at Kendra once more and approached her. "I'm really sorry—about the girl. Can you tell her that? I don't expect her forgiveness but… I do want her to know that I'm sorry."

Kendra nodded and smiled tightly, still at odds. "Thank you, I'll tell her."

Maggie was about to leave when she turned back. "Hey, just a word of caution: most of the guys are harmless, but the silver haired one, he is anything but. Don't let him notice you." Her voice was quiet and strained, as they bent together as if they were the closest of confidantes sharing an intimate secret.

The two young ladies stared at each other while the rest watched on, intrigued, but between them they knew.

Kendra didn't say to Maggie, You've seen the silver headed murderer?

Maggie didn't say to Kendra, Yes, stay off his radar!

The silent conversation held for a moment as the two girls drank in each other's unspoken fears.

---

Sec'lor tucked in his shining silver locks under his black beanie. The rest of his long locks were tied in a low ponytail that rested under his black leather jacket. He dressed like the shadow he felt, hollow and dark and depthless. It matched his mood, which was brooding just below the surface, waiting for the moment where his legendary control would slip. He honestly feared the day when the dam on his emotions would break, letting lose a torrent of all the bad he suppressed for the sake of those he cared for.

He owed everything to his lord, but recently he was questioning his vow and pledge of everlasting loyalty. A torrent of regrets flashed across the smooth planes of his face, ready to dash his taciturn façade. Was it worth it? Were the ends justified by the means? Could his servitude protect the ones he loved? Was it worth twisting his younger brother into something he hardly recognized?

He closed his eyes as he sat down at the bar, his heavy dark boots tapping at the footrest, the only indication of his agitation. No one would approach him here, not unless he acknowledged them, not even the ever-attentive bartender. He didn't worry about being bothered, not here.

He pulled out his phone as he worked on his next assignment. Pulling up an app, he quickly created a profile and began browsing for a specific candidate. Moments later, a strange face appeared on his screen. He typed a short message and sent a request.

Expelling a gust of air, he tapped on the glossed, varnished wood with his fingers, beckoning the bartender near after he shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket.

The potbellied man wiped his hands on his apron and retrieved a glass and filled it with a shot of Grand Duchess Mawile with two cubes of ice. He slid the drink down the line into Sec'lor's awaiting hand. Plucking it from the bar, he raised the glass to his lips and slammed the contents to the back of his throat and swallowed, drowning any troublesome thoughts that tried to ruin his quiet evening.

It wasn't the way you were supposed to enjoy such a fine Scotch. The sweet tang that hit his tongue sang to him, promising him so much more, and just like any good Mawile worth their salt the blended whisky's bite came back with a vengeance as the liquid scorched the back of his throat in the most pleasurable way.

He tossed the glass back down and snapped his fingers, gesturing to his empty vessel with apathetic expectation.

The bartender obliged and poured another shot.

"Make it a double." Sec'lor mumbled.

His drink slid back into his hands and this time he enjoyed his liquor the way it was meant to, one exquisite taste at a time. The burn warmed him throat until he suddenly couldn't feel it anymore.

Numb.

Numb felt good.

Numb felt familiar.

Numb he could handle.

He took another sip and closed his eyes to block the memory of ending that girl's life. A monster had sunk its teeth into that woman and that monster was his brother. He had never thought such brutality had lurked beneath the surface. The patched-up lacerations were like a mark upon Sec'lor's own soul where his brother, Novus, had none. He had allowed this to happen to him.

A monster came in and defiled that woman's life, and a second had ended it for the sake of the first.

The thought made his stomach twist and he quickly drowned it.

He wasn't used to cleaning up after his brother's messes; usually he was so on point and collected. Something had changed his brother's behavior. There was a time when the boy had been so carefree, but that seemed like another lifetime. He had promised to be his brothers' shield, yet somehow Ghetsis had dug his claws into Novus's mind, choosing him as his most favored, and giving him something that Sec'lor never could.

He took another gulp to drown out his worries. He needed to be numb, especially after his most recent actions. The tattered pieces of his honor were still there, protesting.

His stomach roiled in protest as he ordered another drink. If he chose to listen to his conscious it would be ripping him apart now, but he was so used to shutting it out that it rarely showed itself, and he was introspective now that it was. He had kidnapped the little lord and had brutalized him, all so that he could deliver him to his lord Ghetsis. He had tried to appeal to his lord's sense of propriety. Why not ask lord N to come to the sire?

Ghetsis had scoffed and accused him of being drunk on N's mere presence, something that Sec'lor was still having trouble accepting. He had always felt strange around the young lord, but he thought it was merely because he would soon be considered Unovian royalty. People of substance often exuded auras of power; Ghetsis was no exception though it wasn't nearly the same as N's impact. It was true what Novus had claimed, being in the presence of a hero was like nothing compared to ordinary people.

His lord was convinced otherwise.

His thoughts sunk into oblivion as he turned on his stool and gazed out at the smoky atmosphere of the bar. The place was a lurid spot to be at any given time since mischievous Banette often skittered in and out of existence. As the bar's mascot, the tricksters often had their way with the crowd; which was part of the fun, danger, and excitement of the joint. Banette's Game was a place where the seedy underbelly gathered and allowed themselves to let loose their wickedness. It was a place where a good man or woman could court darkness, exploring that side of themselves with impunity and leave the following morning a bit unsavory but unscathed. For the most part. The flirtation with danger was always alluring, which made the place a crowded joint to be—giving the Shadow Triad a place where they were faceless.

It was a shady place and why Sec'lor blended in so well. A snake knew when he was among his own kind.

A Banette darted from the rafters and passed through the slender frame of a cliché woman; her sense of beauty was exposing as much skin as possible while wearing the tightest, slinkiest dress with the highest heels she could find. She squealed in fright from the unsuspected ghostly caress then laughed seductively at her male partner as they made their way deeper into the bar where a secluded alcove waited for the renting.

The little ghosts always went after the pretty faces. The silver Triad thought they got some perverted sense of enjoyment out of it.

The same little Banette whirled about, winking in and out of existence before making eye contact with the assassin. Its crimson eyes turned smoky before disappearing altogether, making Sec'lor smile infinitesimally. No ghost here had the gall to jest with him.

His eyes caught on another man who also sat at the bar and Sec'lor nodded to him, giving him silent permission to come closer.

"I need more money."

Something dark stirred within the silver haired man, coiling tightly. Sec'lor remained impassive as he continued sipping from his glass.

"That last one cleaned me out." He persisted.

When the man didn't get what he desired he pressed on. "We're not equipped to deal with such an extravagant payout." He made the error of trying to touch the man he was propositioning.

Reflexes as quick as lightning, Sec'lor ensnared the offending appendage, turning to the man beside him. He held onto the hand, putting pressure on the delicate metacarpal bones so that the man before him was completely at his mercy.

"First, don't ever touch me." His dark eyes engulfing as he stared at the man menacingly. "Second, you wouldn't be burning through so much cash if you stopped shorting your customers and lining your pockets." The man before him paled, his face ashen. "Those women,"he sneered at the word, his voice cold and unfeeling, "You've entertained are not after your looks. And you will never get another cent from me." He added more pressure until he felt that subtle snap beneath his fingertips and a whimper reached his ears.

"It will never happen again." The man gasped, trying to not make a scene, but he knew better than to yank his arm away.

"No, it won't." Sec'lor agreed, still holding the man's stare. "Anyone can fill your role. When did you think you were irreplaceable?" His eyes glittered with cold, mirthless laughter.

The middleman knew exactly when that moment happened. The moment when he ciphered money that he was meant to hold and got away with it. He hadn't told anyone; how did he know?

"Hi, I'm looking for a Johns Freed. I'd like to talk to him." Came a soft feminine voice that wafted over the din of the bar.

The man caught in Sec'lor's iron grasp automatically swiveled his head towards his pseudonym. A shiver passed through his entire body.

Sec'lor felt her before he saw her, and it made his heart leap in his chest. That same gravitational force encompassed him, but the pull was far stronger. What had his brother Novus told him? As if he were a moth drawn to a flame? He was right. Cold jade eyes peered cautiously from his peripheral, his entire existence focusing into a single iris as a young woman passed through the crowd. Sec'lor felt small, infinitesimal when staring at her, a bright beacon that pulsated, begging him to come near. A piece of his soul reached out towards her as if a part of him knew her from some distant past.

In short, he was stunned.

The entire bar seemed to still for a moment as all eyes met the girl, but the spell had broken just as suddenly as it was cast. It didn't stop the furtive glances or the periodic pauses in conversations, though.

He understood why Ghetsis kept people away from his son. It had been uncomfortable when being in the same room as his lord N. It stirred something deep and ancient in his blood when he was near; recalling ancient days, ancient promises, and ancient betrayals.

Swallowing, Sec'lor could understand that this girl did the same, but in a much bigger way. How did people stand to be around her? His lord Ghetsis had said that with time a resistance was built, that the effects weren't so jarring, that given a while you would hardly even notice it. Just the same, Sec'lor guessed that the resistance wore thin if a time of separation happened. When he had delivered lord N, Ghetsis had tensed.

What was she doing here?

Where did she get that name?

His ire was drawn to the man still under his claws as a meaningful look passed between them. Questioning, quite rage met pale, gaunt confusion.

He let go of the man with a quick jerk, silently telling him to disappear.

Jade eyes locked on to another man in a silent request.

The message was clear as another man from the fold began to shadow the young girl while Sec'lor watched with keen insight, as any predator would survey his prey.

Another man slipped into the seat next to the Triad and began whispering quietly. "Sir,"

Sec'lor's eyes scanned the crowd as he kept careful tabs on the woman who sat quietly at an empty table with her back to the wall. Suddenly his gaze rested upon another who was on the Plasma radar.

"I see him." Sec'lor nodded as he took another sip and skipped his eyes around the crowd again. That Nacrene cop had slipped into the bar unnoticed. There he was in the shadows, puffing on a cigarette and sipping on a beer—almost blending in with the crowd, but his eyes gave him away. They were protective over the girl. Sec'lor's green eyes narrowed. They were working together.

"I thought your department was dealing with him." He murmured.

The undercover cop never wavered, sure of his obscurity to Mercer. "They've tried to run him out, but the son of a bitch is persistent. He's been making copies of everything and having them shipped out by carrier. Most of the files have been moved or burned, but there is no telling what he's gotten to."

Sec'lor's mouth lost all tension. "He suspicious." He concluded.

"I have no doubt about it, sir." The corrupt cop confirmed.

His mind knew what needed to be done. The pair needed to be separated. But one question remained, how did the Hero know to come here? What brought the Hero here? Where did she get the name? Someone must have talked…

With the barest of nods, Sec'lor gave the Johns Freed stand in permission to begin interacting with the Hero.

Kendra sat nervously within the dark den of the Game. After a lot of arguing, Kendra finally convinced Mercer and Burgh that she should be the one to lure Freed out and have the pair of them swoop in when the time was right. It was a sure-fire plan, one that Mercer assured that at no point would she ever be without his supervision. She would be as safe as she could possibly be, considering.

Still… Something was gnawing at her. Her eyes darted around her, but she couldn't bear to make eye contact with anyone. Plenty of eyes were on her already. She felt exposed and foolish for wanting to participate in such a fool-hardly plan. Palms sweating, she rubbed her jeans before raking a hand through her hair.

If Cheren knew what she was doing…

Forget Cheren, what if her mom found out? Hadn't she just promised that she wouldn't do anything stupid? Worry plagued her as she couldn't think of anything more risky or moronic.

This was for Bianca, one of her best friends. This was for her Luna. She remembered what Professor Fennel had told her about the psychic creatures. They were extremely difficult to catch, let alone train, as most psychic Pokémon were because of their ability to completely link minds with their trainers. Only people with strong hearts and pure minds truly mastered psychic Pokemon, meaning that Bianca's Munna had judged her and deemed her worthy of capture. Munna were rare, especially for trainers to have. The only renowned Musharna in the Unova region was Caitlin's of the Elite Four. Caitlin was a famous medium and psychic herself. Between Sabrina of Kanto and Caitlin, the two women were the most powerful psychics born in generations. It would be little wonder that the Elite would boast one of the hardest Pokémon to catch and keep.

Her eyes flitted around her and in her haste to search for a faceless man she nearly jumped out of her skin when a slick looking male sat opposite her and gave her a searching, deprecating grin. Immediately repulsed by his oily appearance, Kendra shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyes flickering to Mercer's direction.

I hope you're watching!

The pair of people just stared at each other, neither of them giving an inch. The man across from her just stared, his black eyes vacant yet calculating. Kendra could sense something dark within those placid orbs. The hairs prickled on the back of her neck as goose flesh erupted all over her skin when a sinking feeling gripped her.

Danger… A velvety voice, smooth as lacquer, ran through her mind like molasses.

Kendra felt as if a ghost had passed through her, though none of the tricky Banette were around to be blamed. Her azure eyes looked about her quickly and rested briefly on Burgh before she lowered them.

The man across from her sat back in his seat, causing the varnished wood to creak in protest. Not a hair was out of place on his head; it shown brightly in the low light, brushed back to hug the contours of his skull with gel. His eyes were obscured by shadow by the angle of his head, making them appear as if they were empty black sockets contrasted sharply by his high, sharp cheek bones. He wore a three-piece suit of iron gray. A chain of a pocket watch glinted as it disappeared into a pocket. Tugging on his white cuffs, the man shifted in his seat so that one leg was crossed elegantly across the other, his hard-black shoes impeccable and spotless as one bobbed slowly with leisure.

With folded hands placed genteelly on his knees, a slick eyebrow raised with expectation.

Kendra gulped. What was she supposed to do? Mercer told her to not say anything until the man revealed himself; otherwise she could scare him away, but it seemed that the man before her was expecting her to say something.

The stench of cologne reeked off the man as one hand was placed on the table to rest as three fingers drummed the surface.

Watching closely from afar, Sec'lor remained thoughtful as he took in the information his lackey was telling him. The fingers were a tell, of course, meaning that, counting the girl, there were two other people there with her. The Nacrene cop was one, but who was the other?

Leave now… The voice whispered across her mind like a lover's caress, making her shiver from head to toe.

The man quirked a brow at her before dramatically opening his jacket and pulled out a fat cigar and a matchbook. Pulling off a stick he quickly struck the back and lit his cigar before shaking out the match and flicking it away. Kendra watched the matchstick flicker out before it disappeared into the darkness.

"You could start a fire doing stuff like that." She scowled before she could help herself.

The smile that spread across his smoky face make her skin crawl.

"She speaks."

His voice was even worse.

Across the way Sec'lor scanned the rest of the bar. Three people. The way he pointed his cigar revealed Mercer's location; which the Triad already knew. But from the way he flicked the match gave away the location of the third. His eyes snagged on the shrouded visage of a flamboyant man.

"Fuck…" He muttered vehemently to himself, downing the rest of his drink. The problems just kept adding up. When it rained it poured.

"Sir?" The cop next to him queried.

"It's Burgh."

The man beside him paled a bit before shaking himself. Rubbing a hand over his face he scowled where his boss just merely studied the figure with detachment. His infamous cool completely opposite from his brother.

"What now?"

Sec'lor turned to the man next to him, his porcelain skin ghostly against his jade cut eyes. "Someone's squealed."

Without needing any prompting, the man quickly went through the list of people who came in for a payday.

The Triad remained silent as he contemplated.

"The most recent was the Munna drop."

Where all the trouble started, it seemed, as he watched the Johns Freed begin to converse with the Hero.

"Who did that?" He asked, monotone. His throat and mouth were parched. Figured on his night to himself something would happen. The need to stay sharp superseded the need to forget.

"The dumb ass you dealt with and… Maggie."

The name rang a dim bell. He had seen her in here earlier, just as he arrived. The girl had positively been beaming until she locked eyes with him, then all the color drained from her face and she quickly scampered away.

"She's always bringing in something. This is the first time she hit the List." The cop went on. "Keeps to herself. Never attends any of the rallies or meetings."

"In other words, she's no fanatic." She was in it for the money. The Triad pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned.

"No. She isn't a loyalist. Flight risk too. Think she squawked?"

Was he to end children too? His green eyes slanted towards his informant and the Hero. The man was blowing smoke rings, the sign that someone told. The sign that he had to get his Barrett M107, Fatalis, and do what he did best. Death from afar. She had said she was leaving town, to spread the word. He had said that if he ever saw her again it would be the last time.

"Shall I find her for you, sir?"

Extinguishing his pent of sigh, Sec'lor declined the offer. "No. You move like a cop. She'd pick you out in a heartbeat." He needed to leave. There was a payout to recollect and he needed to warn and inform his lord Ghetsis. "See to it that the creature is secured with Castelia PD immediately. There can be no link between us."

"Of course, sir." The cop was about to slip away before he hesitated. "Sir?"

Sec'lor gave the barest hint of acknowledgement.

"Who is she?" His eyes drifted towards the woman sitting across from Freed.

Who indeed? The assassin yearned to know that very answer. Yearned to be closer. Needed to draw nearer. Something ancient was calling to him. Something ancient was awakening inside him and he both thrilled and feared the prospect. His lord had been right. History was coming alive as myth and legend was proven to be real. It caused his blood to sing and his spirit to spread. She made him feel alive. His lord had been right…

"She is the other side of the equation." Sec'lor nodded to the girl as he reached up to adjust his cap and flip up the stiff color of his leather jacket. "She is not to be harmed."

"Yes, sir." The cop disappeared within the smoky, dark atmosphere of the bar.

Kendra squirmed as the man in front of her suddenly clammed up. A giant puff of smoke escaped from his nostrils as that sickly smile appeared again. The ash at the end of his cigar glowed a bright red before dissipating into an angry orange.

"I told you, I've got something to—" Kendra tried again.

"Just to be clear…" The man across from her interrupted, the cigar wedged between his teeth as he spoke around it. Half his face was obscured by smoke and darkness. He leaned forward so that the light glanced off his forehead, causing his black eyes to disappear except for a deceptively sinister gleam. "Whoever it was that told you about this place, about me, is dead. Whatever they told you was a lie."

Run…

Fear slammed into Kendra's body as if she had been hit by a truck. She wanted to run, wanted to obey the voice that was ringing as clear as day inside her head, but she was frozen on the spot as she stared into his inky, depthless eyes.

"And when you leave here tonight," He made to stand and straightened his suit as he did so. "I don't expect to ever see your face again." Freed stepped away from the table and disappeared.

A bead of sweat trailed down the back of Kendra's neck and followed the shiver down her spine. Suddenly the table's hanging light was incredibly bright, making her eyes become unfocused as she had the distinct sensation of falling. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she looked about herself frantically as she quietly panicked. Mercer was nowhere in sight, he had moved, and so had Burgh.

Was she alone?

A glint of silver caught her attention and focus, a tiny beacon that served as her anchor. A dark shape was walking the length of the bar, a man dressed in black. Following his path, her eyes widened as the speck of silver flashed before her eyes again as a lock of hair came free. Her heart nearly stopped when the man stopped and turned his head towards her and they locked eyes.

It was him…

The guy from the museum…

He was here!

Let me in… The voice whispered in despair, but the words were drowned out in sheer panic. Whatever breath was left in her lungs rushed out of her in a whoosh of air as if her ribcage had been crushed between iron pincers.

A hand suddenly clamped on her shoulder and a shriek leapt from her throat, clawing its way to the surface. As pitiful as the sound was, it didn't alarm any of the patrons of Banette's Game. Such was the currency of the night, a normal happenstance.

"Ms. White." Mercer whispered in her ear.

Her hands clutched the appendage. "He's here!" She whimpered as images of Mindi's lacerated and battered body flashed before her eyes. Silver meeting frigid blue, a lethal kind of cold azure that spoke volumes to cruelty and savagery; the kind of eyes that promised pain as he dragged his thumb over his throat, mimicking what he had done to that innocent woman.

"Who?" Mercer asked, concern lacing his words as he knelt to be eye level with the young woman in front of him. He had watched as her nerves began to erode, forcing him to intervene between Freed and herself, but it appeared that he had been too late to save her from this deplorable fear that gripped her.

"The killer!" Kendra gulped as she couldn't pull her eyes away from the Triad across the way.

Mercer followed her line of sight and balked. Sure enough, a man that looked very similar to the one that had darkened the door of the Nacrene museum stood as the pinnacle of darkness himself all dressed in black. His mind examined the scene before him with a bit of clinical detachment as he compared notes. It was not the same person, though they looked similar. Relatives maybe?

It was unnerving how penetrating his gaze was, but the stare down was interrupted by the man's sudden departure. Mercer made to follow but was stopped when Kendra tugged on his hand.

"Please don't leave me." She whispered, giving way to a childhood fear that clawed its way to the surface. She was six and begging her father to stay on her birthday. He had left her. He left her alone in the front yard. He left her alone to cry. She felt small and utterly insignificant. With searching eyes, she turned to Mercer, her stormy orbs glassy as she was reliving her past while simultaneously experiencing the perils of the present.

Her eyes quickly followed Mercer's to their entwined fingers and Kendra quickly let them go, embarrassment and shame making her feel foolish and childish. Her heart hammered in her chest as tears pricked her eyes. She was so afraid.

To her astonishment Mercer settled in the chair next to her and reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly as he lent his quiet strength, instilling some sort of warmth into the cold appendage. He threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a side hug as she collapsed onto his side, tremors wracking through her entire body. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

"Forgive me." He told her quietly. At times he really was an idiot. He mistook her bluster for infallible courage. "You're very brave, Ms. White." She wasn't trained as he was to react to these types of situations. She wasn't equipped to deal with high stress scenarios. She was a young girl, barely older than a child. Even though she did browbeat him into allowing her to take point, he should have been more alert and attuned to her weaknesses. Under the tough façade was a wounded heart. He felt a damp stain spreading on his chest and his jaw hardened.

He couldn't stand to see a woman cry.

Thank the gods Burgh had followed the man out of the bar so that the trail wasn't completely cold.

---

His boots fell heavily in the muffled darkness of the room as he paced back and forth like a caged animal, his customary robes thrown aside. Sweat gathered at his pits and formed a ring around his neck, creating a dark, unwanted pattern on the priceless material. A faint lamp hung from the ceiling, casting a dim ray onto the cold floor where his victim lay in the treacherous pooling light. The concrete flooring was old and smooth but unyielding, giving the heaving boy no purchase from the wrath that was directed upon him. A smattering of blood dotted the floor as the lamp swayed back and forth, gently rocking and lulling the victim to try and imagine himself in a different, faraway place.

The only sounds were heavy breathing; one in pain the other in anger.

A hand reached down and plucked his shirt collar up, lifting the limp body as easily as if it were a doll. A chair magically appeared beneath him as he was shoved into his seat.

Head lolling to the side, the sudden shift in vertigo sent his head spinning. A resounding slap snapped him back to his senses.

"When did you plan to tell me?" The words were thick in the air as they fell lifelessly to the floor.

Gray eyes refused to meet electric vermillion.

Another slap caught across his jaw sending stars flying across his vision. He sagged violently in his chair, nearly falling out. He coughed as he felt something wet slip down his windpipe, causing him to gag. He didn't have to know that it was blood. The metallic taste of copper erupted in his mouth afresh as he spit it out. He raised his elbow up as he wiped away the hot liquid.

The restless pacing continued as more silence resounded within the room.

"I told you. When you found the Hero, you were to report it to me immediately! Not when you fucking felt like it!" The sage snarled, causing the boy to flinch. "You deliberately disobeyed me."

N remained silent as Ghetsis continued to pace about him, wondering if his father would continue to punish him. For what seemed like hours N had been literally kept in the dark before a light illuminated his current situation. He was in one of the holding cells of Plasma Incorporated – Castelia. He had never been on this side of the windows before and it chilled him to know where he was. His father was furious with him, as he knew he would be.

"Why didn't you inform me?" The words were cold, threatening.

N opened his mouth and winced as his jaw refused to work properly. He swallowed, his stomach feeling queasy and uneasy. How much blood had he swallowed? "I don't know." He mumbled; the words difficult to form.

A fist connected with his head as he was knocked from his chair. The impact whipped his head back, connecting with the floor in a harsh resounding crack. Ghetsis pounced on N's form, his hands clawing at the shredded remains of his shirt as he shook him. Snarling in his face, the grand sage roared, "Bullshit! Tell me why!"

The boy remained limp in his hands.

Sneering with disgust, Ghetsis rose to his feet and wiped his hands on his expensive hand tailored trousers.

"Water." He ordered.

A bucket of water was quickly brought to him before the cloaked figure escaped into the darkness, leaving the sire alone with the progeny.

With a quick sweep of his arms the contents of the bucket were poured over the unconscious boy, making him sputter back to life with great gulping breaths laced generously with pain. The boy curled into himself as if it would protect him from the pain he knew was still to come.

"Answer me." Ghetsis ordered as he threw the bucket against the wall, making the boy before him cower in fear, his limbs shaking as he covered his head.

"I don't know!" N wailed, his voice broken and forlorn. In this moment he truly didn't understand why he didn't just tell his father about meeting Kendra. What had possibly come over him, to think that he could get away with something so bold? He had never acted in such a way in his life.

Ghetsis paced to the side as his one good eye narrowed with menacing intent. He stepped closer to the boy and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, pleased when there seemed to be revulsion from his very touch. Good. It was how it should be.

"You know she is evil. She's born to kill your dreams, to take away everything you want and desire." His words dripped like honey from his velvet lips, but where his words should have been sweet, they instead spread poisonous thoughts. "She isn't good for you, son." He whispered the last bit, reviled.

N clutched his head and remained still, afraid that any movement would break whatever spell had his father bending over him and talking to him with such sickly-sweet intent, as if he actually cared.

He does care… a thought flitted across his psyche. He believed it ardently.

"You know that, don't you, N?" Ghetsis went on, his hand sifting from his shoulder to his hair, smoothing the wild strands there as any caring parent would.

N nodded slowly, carefully. The action alone hurt.

The hand that had just moments ago been kind turned hard with malice as Ghetsis' fingers grazed N's scalp while grabbing a fist full of hair, lifting N's face to look at him directly. "Then what made you think you could keep her from me?" He gnashed his teeth as he breathed out the question, rage boiling over as he tossed N against the wall like a disposed rag.

"My men have seen the way you've looked at her, touched her—" Ghetsis raged on, his eyes wild and frenzied. "Kissed her!" He said accusingly.

N tried to sit up and failed as his eyes were swimming with memories of Kendra in his arms, hot and willing, participating in a kiss that had seared him to the very seat of his soul. Her shining blue eyes alight as she looked up at him. The flush of her rosy cheeks and the way her lips bruised from his attentions. But then fear gripped him at his father's words, and he couldn't stop the expression of possessiveness take over him when his father spoke. He wished he never showed it to him.

Ghetsis drew up short when he saw that look cross N's face. He feared that it would be there, might take hold in his son. He knew that look. It was the one he always wore when he had watched the boy's mother in all her grace and beauty. He seized N's shirt front again and hauled the boy to his feet baring his teeth at him. N tried to resist for the first time, his hands clasping around Ghetsis' wrists like living manacles as he struggled against his father's grasp.

"She's there to poison you!" Ghetsis hissed.

"She's not like that." N gasped out.

"You think you have feelings for her?" Ghetsis asked darkly, a laugh bubbling up from his chest. "You think she has feelings for you?" He asked, incredulous.

His hands let go and N slumped to the floor, breathing harshly.

Laughing, Ghetsis asked, "Does she know who you are?"

N gazed up as his father as his right temple oozed blood. His head throbbed painfully as he tried to follow what his father was saying. "No." He breathed shakily.

"So, you've lied." Ghetsis sneered. "Afraid to tell her the truth?"

N remained silent, his mind racing.

"The truth that you were born to destroy her. The truth that you were born to break her, master her." Ghetsis continued, his voice grand as it rose in power and pitch.

N's eyes closed as he tried to block out what his father was telling him.

"The truth that in the end you will shatter her and everything she represents. Do you honestly think that she will have feelings for you after you've destroyed her?" Ghetsis went on.

N shook his head. "I can't!" He gasped, breathing hard. Just thinking about ending her caused him more physical and spiritual pain than he ever thought possible, more than his father ever could. "I won't!"

"Then everything I have done for you has been for nothing!" The sage roared. "She is evil, N! Can you not see it?"

No. She wasn't evil. She wasn't the twisted, soulless figure he had conjured in his waking hours. She was more. "No, she's not." He swallowed thickly, emotion blooming in his chest.

"You've just proven her so!" Ghetsis knelt beside his son and gripped his shoulder roughly. "Evil is not a display of strength or an outer manifestation of ugliness. Evil is not forceful in conquering, evil seduces. Evil is bad that thinks it's good*." He whispered vehemently to the lad. "Can't you see that?"

N felt as if something sharp had punctured his chest as something cold took root there. Kendra was not the menace he had imagined her to be for all of his life. She was sun kissed and warm, with eyes as expressive and alluring as the sea, hair bronzed streaked with gold, with skin as soft as cream—she was beautiful in every sense of the word, both inside and out. She treated those around her with respect and humility when called for. She was fiercely loyal with a strong heart. Kendra was everything that he didn't know he desired. In his arms she completed him. But doubt flickered in his rapidly beating heart. She believed that Pokémon belonged with humans, even though he knew the bond only brought about pain. Zola was proof of that.

His eyes widened on his father's.

Evil seduces. Evil is bad that thinks it is good…

What could be more seductive than a wisp of bronze and cobalt? Everything about Kendra called to him.

Ghetsis could see it being crushed before his eyes, whatever good feelings N had for the girl. He had to be sure to crush any bond between them, make sure that there was no hope. The prospect that the other Hero could be a woman had never entered his mind. In all the accounts he heard the Heroes were always the same gender. All the legends confirmed it, except for one passed down folktale from an obscure little village too small to be given a name, let alone to be marked on any conventional map. Of course, he had waved it off, thinking that the oral tradition had been changed too much over time to be anywhere authentic. But here was living proof.

Ghetsis pulled away contact from the boy and let a shiver pass through him. He could hardly stand to be around the boy. The pulsating aura surrounding him was at times overwhelming like now. He could only imagine what it must feel like for N to be near the girl; the feeling had to be intensified a thousand-fold.

"I forbid anymore contact between you and the girl." Ghetsis spoke quietly.

N's heart nearly stopped. No…

"She's clouded your judgment; you need to remain pure and untainted from her poisonous thoughts and ideals." Ghetsis began pacing again.

"It's my destiny to face her." He protested. Denying his access would help no one.

Quick as lightning Ghetsis was in his face, his hand flashing out in a quick slap, silencing any other mutinous quibbles. How he hated N thinking on his own. His short jaunt of freedom was not doing him any good.

"You will remain with me until I think you're ready to meet her." Ghetsis went on.

N craned his head up, eyes panicked. His freedom! "But I—" Any protests were quickly silenced with another slap, this one harder than the first.

"She's rotten. Look what's she's reduced you to." He gestured pitifully, scornfully. He looked down at N with disgust as he wet his lips to speak once more, his voice razor sharp. "Whatever little fantasies you have about her, forget them. She's meant to be the dirt beneath your feet, not your equal."

N's gray eyes sank to the floor in despair.

"She will be the first victim of your new empire, an example for the world to remember."

"No!" The words were out of his mouth before he even thought them. He looked up at his father, imploring. "I can't hurt her! I won't. I lo—" He stopped himself from forming the word, from completing the sentence, but it was too late, his father knew his sentiments. All breath escaped him as his father's boot connected with his ribcage as a sickening crunch reverberated throughout his body, leaving him gasping for air that he could not catch.

"It is a LIE!" Ghetsis screeched, his face contorted in fury, red from rage. "It is the bond! The bond is to blame for those wretched, foolish feelings!" He picked up his son and roared in his face. "It is the bond that clouds your judgment. It is the bond that manipulates you!"

He shook him until N's teeth rattled before he tossed him at the chair. N's body crashed into the wooden seat, exploding into fragmented pieces from the force. He wailed uncontrollably as he felt something sharp move in his chest. Ghetsis was quick to follow in pursuit, ever the unrelenting predator.

"Like you know what love is!" Ghetsis seethed, his eyes flashing as his memory flashed before him, of the beautiful woman he had loved with all of his heart displaying the same terror within her gray eyes as her son was doing now. The very thought incensed him. "It's the bond that makes you 'love' her!" He snarled. "Want to fuck her! Protect her!" He was no longer in control of his actions, only intent on inflicting lasting pain that would cripple and kill. The last thing he wanted was for N to have any kind of feelings for the girl, and to hear what he had been about to say absolutely terrified him. What if his feelings towards her would derail the legend? What if all his years of careful planning were ruined simply because his son was attached to the girl and she to him?

"My lord, Ghetsis!" A voice raced out of the darkness, stilling the age from another blow.

"What?!" He growled, irritated with the interruption. "I was not to be disturbed!"

"I understand, my lord," Sec'lor couldn't help but stare at N's prone form in the filtering light, not missing the stench of sweat and blood that clung coyly in the air. "But we have a situation that needs your immediate attention."

Ghetsis was frozen on the spot, ready for action, ready to dive back into his frenzied abuse, but the cool touch of logic and warning cleared the violent hazy fog that had settled on him before. He straightened himself and smoothed out his wrinkled shirt as he stepped over his son as if he were nothing more than a piece of debris, an annoyance not a hindrance.

"Report."

---

The main lobby of Plasma Incorporates – Castelia was open, even at this late hour. Swirling granite floors stretched out from the sliding automatic doors to the front desk in a sweeping expanse of gray and milky crystal. Flecks of blue and brown added to the galaxy of spinning pinwheels in quartz. On either side of the great anteroom was black marble, polished to look like black glass. The cleaning staff were on the floor at this very moment, scrubbing away scuff marks and buffing ever surface until your reflection was as clear as water.

Giant vases filled with potting soil towered like columns that cascaded fresh flowers; which the building gardener was fussing over. A second man was roughly polishing the vases that lined the walkway towards the front desk. Further out stone pillars divided the lobby, matching the cold walls, a long series of mirrors that made the halls seem grander and largess through a never-ending series of reflections.

Uncomfortable leather lounge seating was getting steam cleaned by more janitorial personnel as they buzzed about like a hive of Combee.

No one milled about aimlessly, except for a rather bored receptionist. She had just come from the restroom, bottled lemonade in her hand as her only prize from the fickle vending machine. She had originally punched the button for a coffee to give her a caffeine boost; however, the machine had other plans set against her.

"State of the art building with faulty machinery." She tsked as she clucked her tongue in displeasure.

On her wandering way back she passed the front lobby doors once more, causing them to open. There were no special cars out front. No valet attendants. No end in sight of her waiting.

Turning around on her sharp stiletto heel, she marched back to her desk, her eyes flickering over the black and white sign posted hear the entrance.

NO POKÉMON ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT

She sighed, glad that they weren't allowed to run amuck in such a nice building. It cut costs alone by 13%. You didn't have to deal with extra cleaning, security, repairs from wild outburst, or lawsuits. Pokémon were a hassle in the business world. They simply had no place. It was why she had wanted the job, so that she could get away from the Pokémon life. A line had to be drawn somewhere in the sand.

She glanced at her watch again.

More than just a simple secretary, she was an assistant. Her life was in helping to keep another's life in line. Noire was good at her job. It was why she was hired on to help with the Senior CEO of Plasma Incorporated. His life was a storm of activity and she needed to be on her toes to keep all of his dates, meetings, and activities in order. It didn't help the fact that most of her job was done by phone and she was constantly chasing after her boss; which was why she was here in the Castelia Branch awaiting the illustrious Brutalli.

His car was due to arrive at any moment, or so she was told. Mr. Brutalli often threw surprises her way last minute; which was why she was glued to her cell phone. Her life would end if she ever lost it. Along with her career.

Returning to her perch at her desk, she opened her planner and went over the details once more.

Mr. Brutalli was supposed to arrive; from there she would shadow his side, at his beck and call, as he and his board members went straight into a meeting to review the financial situation and public opinion of the Castelia Branch. Things had been taking a dive in this part of Unova, no thanks to certain people of society, she sneered to herself as she tossed aside a file with a picture of Burgh Dürer attached. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion; however, the little snit was wrong!

Snapping her data book shut, the receptionist let out a gust of air as she went about straightening her hair, touching all the strands into proper place in the high sweeping raven bun with loose curls cascading behind, fixed the labels of her skirt suit, and pulled down the cuffs of her blouse.

Pulling out her mirror and purse, she began to perfect her already immaculate make-up job. Ruby red lips were repainted and shined bright in the dull light of the lobby. Her Cupid's bow was made more pronounced and downright kissable. A small brush hugged her oval shaped eyelid as she applied a smokey texture. With a felt tipped applicator, she drew on more ebony eyeliner. The dark liquid made her luminous eyes sharper and more dangerous; which stood out against her alabaster skin. She was a woman, and this was her war paint for a workplace that was dominated by men. If she was going to be discriminated against because of her sex then she would use it to her advantage. There were no qualms from her if she looked like a painted lady, behind that coy smile were fangs and claws and she wasn't afraid to use them to gain the upper hand during business hours. They didn't call her the Houndoom Dame for nothing. She was about to pull out her mascara when a shadow caught her attention.

Dark eyes turned predatory at what she saw gliding into the building.

Standing from her seat, she tossed her head and walked around to the front of the desk, her black tipped manicured nails drumming against the teak wood surface.

"Speak of the devil," The woman spoke lowly to herself, her voice dripping with malice that marred her pretty face. "Gentlemen, I apologize, but our office is closed for the evening. Kindly see yourself out." The sound of her voice carried within the lobby with such finality and cold courtesy that any other person would have quickly followed her request.

"We believe that you are harboring a fugitive within your building." Another voice bit back.

The woman in black tossed her head back and gave a heart laugh, but the sound contained no joy, only condescending mirth.

"Mr. Dürer, with all due respect, you and your company are not allowed within the building. I'm asking you to please leave." Her fingers continued to drum against the desk while her other hand rest firmly on her shapely hip.

Burgh stopped a few feet away from the woman and narrowed his eyes as if he were looking into the very face of evil itself. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut short by the man beside him.

"My friend is being rude. I'm Anthony Mercer with the Nacrene City Police Department. We're here because we followed a suspicious character into this building that I believe is connected to the murders back in Nacrene." He held out his hand for her to take a friendly greeting, causing her lips to bend to a seductive smile as she refused to accept.

"A little beyond your jurisdiction it seems." She turned to the wayward cop fully and swayed her hip in the opposite direction, switching her hand on her hip so that she accentuated her form. Her voice was sweet as syrup. "More the pity that I cannot help you, what happened in Nacrene was a tragedy."

She was still playing coy and her tone offered not authenticity in her sympathies. Mercer's gaze never flickered as he sized up the woman in front of him. She was a foreigner, as her words carried a slight accent. "It truly is, miss…?" He trailed off, prompting an introduction from her.

"Demoiselle Noire d'Nicolay." She replied as smooth as silk, her name and richer accent giving away her foreign pedigree completely.

"You're a long way from Kalos yourself." Mercer commented, hinting that they were both outsiders to the city.

"And who is your lovely companion behind you?" Her dark eyes narrowed menacingly as they evaluated Kendra White as a cold veneer settled upon the woman's face.

Kendra balked as attention shifted to her. She already thought it was a mistake to come here and following the silver haired man. The teen felt that she was in way over her head. What started out as a simple, albeit elaborate, Pokémon recovery errand turned into a hundred shades darker with his encounter. Kendra no longer felt safe in the company of Mercer or Burgh. There was danger emanating from this place, she could feel it in her bones and the way her skin crawled. It wasn't helping that the woman who asked who she was gave her a look of vile familiarity.

Sensing her distress, Mercer deflected. "She's my niece."

D'Nicolay's smile puckered a bit at hearing that. "Do you often bring extended family with you on foras juris cases?" Her eyes caught Kendra's. "Why are you here?"

Her message was unmistakable: that was a lie.

"This fugitive may be connected to Nacrene." Mercer supplied, taken aback by the woman's frigid look.

"This is a private building, and it is currently closed to the public. I see no writ to grant you unencumbered access to this property."

"Stop playing obtuse! You're harboring a criminal who is part of your underground ring of thieves who steal people's Pokémon. You're an infection in this city. You're in on this too!" Burgh hissed; his rage evident as his patience was wearing thin. He watched as the woman sashayed around the desk to reach for the company phone. Tapping in a few numbers she placed the receiver to her ear, nonplussed with the accusations. "I know he's in here! You can't keep denying the truth!" Burgh shouted, his voice rising in heat and passion. "I've seen him come in here with my very eyes! I know what you're doing!" Burgh ranted.

Mercer rubbed a hand to his face, trying to cover the fact that he wanted to hit the metropolitan man beside him for losing his cool. Burgh was turning into more of a hinderance than a help.

"Security to the lobby." The phone abruptly clattered in its cradle, the only indicator that the woman before the trio was agitated. Snapping her manicured fingers, she pointed to the maintenance staff and ordered them to disperse and perform their duties elsewhere. They served their purpose in witnessing the ravings of a mad man. Crossing one arm over her stomach to clasp the hand of the other arm perched on her hip; she gave Mercer a deadpan stare, her lips pursed in displeasure.

"Le échec et mat." She said confidently.

From behind the walls a voice stirred. "Inform Sec'lor he's been spotted as he entered the building."A soldier spoke raptly into his small ear radio, his eyes quickly scanning all security monitors in front of him. A voice responded back, and the dark soldier pressed a gloved hand to his ear and remained still as a statue. He quickly began patching through to other phone lines to police contacts for just such an occasion. "Yes sir, understood." His voice crackled out as he began giving orders.

"Go ahead, call security. I've already called the police to do a formal search." Burgh crowed in the woman's face, approaching the desk, alarming his companions. "I've finally got you. Red handed. This place is connected!"

The middle-aged cop quickly wrapped his iron fingers around Burgh's upper arm and pulled the man away from the receptionist so he could whisper fiercely, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Burgh brusquely shrugged him away. "They can't all be corrupt. There has to be some paragons within the police force who can protect the citizens and this city. They can't dismiss this so blithely."

The Houndoom Dame let out a cynical laugh as she covered her mouth with her hand. "Officer Mercer, you seem at odds with Mr. Dürer, surely you are aware that Plasma Incorporated has filed a restraining order against this man?"

Mercer stilled upon hearing the news, but Kendra could not contain her shock. She looked furtively at Burgh who was quickly losing his composure with the situation.

"Are you not aware of the fact that this man has been slandering libel against Plasma Incorporated – Castelia and that he is currently in a defamation lawsuit with us, as not a single accusation had been demonstrably true?" Her words sliced through the air, sapping the bravado from the seething gym leader.

"I also find it rather odd that a cop from Nacrene would accompany such a person with only his niece," The word was said with such derision that Kendra felt verbally reprimanded for being complicit with Mercer's lies, "Who not only lacks police authority here, but is being lead blindly by the whims of a man obsessed with tarnishing the reputation of a private business, that it begs the questions: what would your superiors say?"

Mercer's blood iced. He really hadn't known what the hell he had gotten himself into with Burgh. Dammit! He was just as reckless as Burgh. There went his career. He looked back at Kendra and immediately regretted it. She looked pale and frightened. What had he really done to help her? He was the only member of his police department who even took a moment to consider her statement further. And with the threat of his job by Noire d'Nicolay's ruby lips, she might as well have given him the kiss of death.

The sound of keys jingling seemed to bring the room back to attention to the receptionist. She unlocked a drawer in the desk and pulled out several files with various dates labeled. "Here are all the current records of every charge set against Plasma Incorporated – Castelia in the past year and a half, as well as several witness statement s, reports, and attendance records of Mr. Dürer's presence within the building." She lazily let the stack fall on the desk's surface with a flourish of her hand. "Tonight's incident and witness statements will be collated at the conclusion of this unsolicited tête-à-tête," Noire sneered, "And will be submitted as further evidence."

"What witness statements? No one is even here!" Burgh snapped.

"Oh, I'm sure the police will be very interested in what our staff have witnessed: two men aggressively approach a long receptionist and begin a heated argument with her." D'Nicolay began to saunter around the desk once more, tsking her tongue in the most unfortunate way. "The very optics of such an encounter look damning." She gestured towards various points of the ceiling.

"This entire building is hard wired with surveillance, with security men roaming the halls and every access point being monitored in real time, including myself who has been here all evening watching those very doors you so rudely burst through – I have yet to hear or see any news of anyone entering the building suspiciously."

Burgh grit his teeth. "He's not suspicious to you! You're protecting him!" The gym leader paced around, feeling the nose that this woman was weaving tightening around his neck. He had stormed the doors of the Plasma building with his heart ablaze, sure in his conviction that he was doing what was right. He had watched the man who left the bar come into the company building through a side entrance. He had seen how the very sight of the man spooked Kendra. Not to mention that the gym leader had seen the shifty character before, except the man wasn't exchanging envelopes or packages. Burgh was certain that he was connecting to the core of the disease that was causing his city to rot from within. Since he had met Kendra back in Pinwheel Forest, he had taken it upon himself to investigate Plasma Incorporated more thoroughly than before. Plasma Incorporated was always speaking out against him within Castelia. It was difficult to leverage him political power against a massive company like Plasma.

But this time… This time was different. He had seen the small exchange tonight while he was waiting on Mercer and Kendra to get into position. He watched another man, slick and oily, exchange a wad of cash for a bag. Watching carefully, he saw that the man checked the bag and inside glinted several spheres, crimson and blanched white.

The exchange went to the man in black, discretely, who picked it up as he left.

There was no denying it.

The fact that he headed straight to Plasma Incorporated only made it that much more damning.

In Burgh's mind everything made sense. Why wasn't anyone paying attention?

"Just stop!" Mercer growled as he pinched the bridge of his nose, hearing the footfalls of of security finally reaching the lobby to deescalate the situation.

Behind them the lobby doors pulled open as a police unit strode in with purpose.

Kendra did not miss the way the woman smiled endearingly at the approaching men, as if they were sharing a secret only they were party to.

"Finally, you're here. We've seen a suspicious character enter this building that has a missing Munna on him and I believe that this woman is harboring him." Burgh snarled as he pointed at d'Nicolay. "Arrest her."

Kendra scoffed at the same time Noire did, earning her a facetious smile.

Mercer tried to salvage the situation as best he could but he was barely controlling his own rage at the moment. The plan had been to approach the building together but Burgh, the arrogant son of a bitch, dove headfirst into the shallow end, leaving Mercer behind to make sure the Kendra stayed put on the sidelines. But Burgh was becoming unbridled.

"We saw him come in here, we saw him make the deal. He has dozens of Pokéballs on him! He stole a girl's Munna! You're harboring thieves and stolen Pokémon!" Burgh became unreasonable as his obsession came to a head.

Mercer attempted to restrain Burgh and physically and figuratively pull him back from the precipice.

"Get your hands off of me!" He roared.

Things were quickly spinning out of control. The guards, dressed in black, stood by the receptionist, not allowing Burgh anywhere near the woman, while Mercer was trying to speak with the other officers in an attempt to salvage the clusterfuck they had found themselves in. Everyone wore angry faces. Arguing ricocheted off the hard surroundings in a drowning cacophony of noise. Things seemed to escalate until the gentle ding of an elevator pierced the den, capturing the Dame's attention completely; which made Kendra peek through the clamorous space to see what could pique her interest at such a chaotic time – and regretted the sneak peek instantly as her stomach seemed to plunge to her knees so fast that she nearly wanted to vomit.

A hush suddenly filled the room as an entourage of men filtered out of the elevator. They swaggered into the fray all dressed in sharply tailored suits, fresh pressed and crisp.

The Dame was the first to collect herself. "Sir, I did not know you were here. I was told to receive you via car." Suddenly she was all business and seriousness as she collected her work materials and prepared herself to be at this man's call.

Burgh glowered at the man who exuded such cool power as Mercer took the apparent CEO of all of Plasma Incorporated in for the first time.

Ghetsis Hydrei Brutalli was a man whose family came from old money. He reeked of wealth and confidence as he surveyed all he owned as he as he stepped away from the flashing silver doors of the elevator. He was dressed in a sharp, iron gray three-piece suit and a maroon silk blend button down. His face was obscured by custom rimless glasses that framed his face, with his vibrant verdant hair woven together in a simple but long braid that swept down his back. A few wisps of green fringe framed his face. A muscle leapt in his jaw, making it more defined as he took a deep breath. But it was the eyes that captured the cop. One was a bright malicious vermillion while the other was covertly covered. In them Mercer could see a calculating mind that was cranking and grinding as he strode into the main lobby surrounded by people.

"I took the helicopter." He informed his secretary tersely, his voice calm but hard, his expression detached, belaying those predator eyes that were constantly scrutinizing. He gave Burgh an appraising look before a small, fleeting smile plastered on his serenely placid face. Pushing a piece of bangs from his vision and restoring it back to its rightful place he eyed the security cops. "I thought I made that clear that Mr. Dürer was not allowed after business hours."

"It seems your business never closes, Brutalli." Burgh spat, earning him a hostile hand from a nearby police officer.

"No, indeed, a man's work is never done, especially when there are those who constantly try to tear them down." Ghetsis said coolly, his sharp eye locking with Kendra's.

Time seemed to stand still as the pair simply stared at one another.

Kendra felt as if she might be crushed under the weight of that stare as her bones seemed to turn to jelly and her stomach heaved within her. The sense of danger was overwhelming and all she wanted to do was run. Her damn flight or fight instincts couldn't overcome her body's ability to simply freeze like an idiot while the man in front of her seemed to dive into her soul, root around, violently ripping and tearing as he went. Kendra's heart fluttered in her chest as it hammered out an unsteady tempo.

Everything in the room seemed to dim as the iris of Kendra's vision filled with the towering man before her. She didn't remember him being so foreboding in Accumula. He had merely been a preacher spreading the gospel of his ideals. But here and now, dressed as any man of power would in this big, bad city, Ghetsis Brutalli seemed like a colossus. His will, as foreboding as it was, was your duty to fulfill, not matter the cost. And Kendra felt as though she would collapse under his will just to escape the fiery pit that his vermillion eye ensnared her in. The feeling of destiny, which was always an irritating hum on the back of her neck, swung down on her like a sledgehammer striking an anvil – ringing throughout the void of darkness that seemed to surround her like the tolling death knell.

He sees you… A voice whispered in the back of her mind, dark and disturbing, making Kendra's skin crawl. He will break you…

Here stands the man who will destroy the world. Kendra was abruptly plunged into an icy abyss, so cold and so unforgiving that it felt as if she were burning along the edges of her skin, pealing away to grip the muscle underneath to spasm into rigid knots before the arctic blast crystalized upon her bones only to shatter by the merest touch. With tremendous strength she peered above her to reveal a sky that held a vast comet that hurdled its way towards her, smashing into the earth, rocking the very foundations of the globe before – just as suddenly – there she stood in the lobby of a powerful corporation.

Whatever her destiny was, Kendra was suddenly sure it ended at this man's feet.

The general atmosphere of the crowd was excited and the stare down between the pair went largely unnoticed as security and police were trying to collect information of the incident, Burgh was still trying to make his point, and d'Nicolay was busy reciting Ghetsis's itinerary. Mercer, ever vigilant, sensed Kendra's distress, and was shocked to find that she was bone cold to the touch and short of breath as she stared into Ghetsis's vermillion gaze.

He placed a protective arm in front of the girl, severing whatever connection that seemed to tether the pair together, and somehow everything seemed to grow brighter, move faster, because of him.

"Sir, Mr. Dürer has violated the restraining order placed against him, would you like to press charges?" A policeman asked as he pulled out his clipboard and began his paperwork.

Ghetsis turned to Burgh and gave him a measuring look that spoke volumes of his intentions. "Yes, I would. I believe that he has libel my company's name here in Castelia. It is why I've flown here at this late hour. M PR is down in this branch and he has tarnished my family and my business's reputation. I want the fullest extent of the law brought down on him while I try to fix things here." He paused as he gave Burgh another appraising look of cool detachment, enjoying what was about to become of the gym leader's life. "My assistant also informs me that he accused me of harboring a thief and stolen Pokémon. A Munna, was it?"

The cop nodded while his partners grabbed the gym leader and began to place him in handcuffs.

Another policeman joined the conversation, "You said a stolen Munna, right? I just came from a scene where a suspect was caught with several stolen Pokéballs. I believe one of them was a Munna." He paused at the look of incredulity on Burgh's face and the mirth emanating from Ghetsis.

The gymleader roared as he felt the cold metal clasp around his wrists. "Eight straight months of escalating thefts and you just now manage to find some missing Pokémon?! He struggled under the trained forced that extricating him from Brutalli property. "You can't do this! The real thief is here! Search the building, I swear he's here!"

"Sir, you are under arrest for violating your restraining order and slanderous libel," The litany of arrest procedure began as they police calmly escorted the gym leader out of the building and to a squad car.

"You're not getting away with this!" Burgh promised before he disappeared.

Ah, Ghetsis thought, the pleasure of plans coming together… The rest was in Sec'Lor's hands.

"What about these two?" A cop continued.

The billionaire's mouth curved into a sickening smile. "My staff has told me that this one is a cop Nacrene. I'd like his superior to be informed of his conduct here in Castelia. As for his niece…" He paused as he gave her a cursory sweep. "I have no quarrel with the girl."

Lies…

Kendra suddenly knew that in that moment, Ghetsis Hydrei Brutalli, one of the wealthiest moguls in Unova, was lying.

---

Mercer stood in the back office of the Castelia City Police Department, Precinct One as he gathered his things. He had doe all that he could by way of collecting information here. Something in the back of his mind told him to keep making copies, keep multiplying what he had so that nothing could go missing. A few loaded jump drives and an entire truck full of copied papers were in route to his home office in Nacrene. He just couldn't trust his office at work.

Soon he would be heading back towards the jaws of the bitch herself.

Jenny planned on frying his ass and laying him out as an example to the other officers at the station. She had castigated him over the phone and promised more upon his return to the precinct. Internal Affairs had already been called, which suspended his badge and police authority. He was on ice until further notice. Suspended pay. His chief was already kissing so much ass here to bring him back under her fold; he could only imagine how brown his nose would be if he really wanted to keep his job and pension when it was all over.

She reminded him that he was not a detective. He was not out on assignment. He was to collect information about Mindi's death and come straight back, not embed himself in the filing office at Castelia PD. His actions, at the core of it, were a bit illegal.

The Nacrene case was closed so abruptly and tightly that not even the Murkrows could find it so they could shit on it – Chief Jenny was adamant that his involvement was severed.

Anthony was angry.

More than that – he was infuriated.

His chief had never thrown her weight to condemn one of her badges so quickly. That worried him.

Mercer rubbed his eyes as his mind grappled with all the fragments of information that plagued his mind. He needed to piece them together, the only question was, were the piece from the same puzzle box? Or was he forcing connections that weren't there?

The mathematical odds of finding one missing Pokémon in a city crawling with millions, with millions of people notwithstanding, were astronomical. Honestly, his motivations to accompany Kendra's search was to coerce more information from her. So when a cop had volunteered information about obtaining the missing Pokémon while he was on the beat, and upon their return to Precinct One Kendra's incident report suddenly appeared, followed by news that the Munna in question had already been returned to its owner made everything all the more suspicious to Mercer. It was a wonder how things seemed to tie up too neatly for Mercer's comfort.

The very mention of Kendra White's name was enough to push Chief Jenny over the edge in her tirade against him. There was enough circumstantial evidence to put the girl behind bars if Jenny wanted to. Everything that Mercer found suspicious about his experiences in Castelia, Kendra White, Plasma Incorporated, and the fanatical Plasma group was so "Farfetch'd," as she put it, that is bordered on laughable, disgracing his name, badge, and the department he represented.

If Jenny had her way, he would soon be the laughingstock at his job and his hometown. A solid career flushed down the toilet over one brazen decision after another.

Burgh didn't fair well either.

The lying bastard was being held under house arrest at his gym for the foreseeable future and had to publicly withdraw from his public life. No one saw much of the Pokémon activist except for his supervised gym matches. Mercer was forbidden contacting him. Not too difficult to bypass, seeing as Kendra could act as a go-between. He had exchanged numbers with her prior to saying his goodbye, which was more of a see you later.

It was one of the reasons why he was still lingering in Castelia. He had tossed his phone somewhere in the backroom of filing and it had yet to resurface.

At Mercer's insistence, Kendra and her friends had left some time later after becoming one gym badge richer. He expected her to phone him anytime now, which was why he was so frantic to find it.

His frustrations with Ms. White continued. Now matter how hard he pressed her, she continued to hedge around his questions and had yet to reveal all that she knew. It was clear that she wanted to flee the city, put the recent events behind her. He had escorted her to the city's periphery where the Resort sands vied with civilizations claim for supremacy. The desert was a ruthless and unforgiving place, but the young girl seemed to finally relax with the city at her back. In a last attempt to gain a modicum of her trust, he promised to be there to listen and to act if necessary. The declaration seemed to move her along in the right direction.

As he trudged his way back to the city center, the incessant feeling that he was no longer safe dogged him at every step. It felt like he was being watched. As much as his chief denied his gut feelings on this most recent case, he sure as hell didn't. Kendra's paranoia must be rubbing off on him though. He kept startling at loud noises, or his eyes caught on people who seemed to stare a bit too long at him for comfort. He was without Pokémon but that didn't mean he was defenseless; a gun was a great equalizer.

It was time to leave. His taxi was due to arrive in just under an hour, giving him enough time to run to the corner store he had frequented for a smoke.

Stepping out into the dull, gray day, Mercer kept his head down and mouth shut as he made his way past glaring officers. After purchasing two packs of Blue Numel Crush and a fresh lighter, he stepped out into the busy sidewalks once more, his hands trembling as he tore into a cigarette pack.

Was it the nicotine withdraw or his nerves?

His lips wrapped around the stem of the cigarette, drawing upon mouth of the filter as smoke and fire faced through his lungs, soothing the terrible ache that built there.

He really needed to quit. His habit was getting out of control. The recent events with Nacrene, Castelia and Kendra were all just excuses. But at the moment, the nicotine in his system was the only thing that wasn't making him jump out of his skin.

A crack of ominous thunder broke over the city, breaking the spell and power the storm clouds possessed in keeping the rain at bay. A steady shower fell upon the city as big, fat raindrops pelted the concrete jungle.

"Shit!" Mercer cursed as he pulled his thin coat over his shoulders, trying to find an overhang to duck into to gain some sort of purchase of dryness. Only long enough to finish his cigarette.

No outcroppings seemed helpful against the sudden summer rain.

Splashing through a puddle, the cop nearly missed the stain of red that filtered down a thin strip of pavement into the nearest gutter.

Red was a trigger color in his mind and his body automatically stopped to investigate.

The trail of scarlet seemed to grow as the rain slushed through the street.

He followed it.

It curved around a heap of garbage in a narrow alleyway. Curious, he stepped into the cluttered passage, his stomach turning in knots as he saw a girl's show protruding out, followed by a battered looking leg, the beginnings of a tattered dress…

A crack of thunder erupted over the city, concealing the biting echo of a single gunfire shot.

His eyes widened as something sharp and painful tore through his shoulder, ripping the very breath from his chest. Fire exploded through his body as white clouded his vision – he couldn't feel his arm.

On instinct he ducked down and hugged the side of the building closest to him, his weapon already in his good hand. He was alone, save for the dead girl. The thunder concealed the origin of the shot, but the angle felt sharp when it tore through his body—the shooter was up high, perhaps on a rooftop or high-rise window. The possibilities were endless in this part of the city.

Another shot tore through him, the pain blooming white hot before numbness began to form in his extremities.

He struggled to remain upright, but he felt like a cornered wild Pokémon ready to be culled.

Falling to his knees, Mercer cried out as the pain lanced through him, but his voice was drowned by the pummeling rain that accompanied the somber rumblings of thunder.

His mind began to race.

Where was the shooter?

Who was he?

Why was he targeted?

Why her?

Why here?

Her body seemed staged, was he meant to find her?

Who would fulfil his promise?

Who would protect her?

Who would follow this case?

Who would keep following the trail of clues?

Was he going to die here?

Was he going to be swept under the rug and forgotten?

"Maggie…" He gasped, tasting something slick and metallic in his mouth. What little breath he found in his lungs at the utterance of the dead girl's name was infused with so much; a plea, curse, benediction, and eulogy all at once.

He dropped his gun, his fingers felt so foreign, so detached. His hand fumbled to look for his phone on his person, only to have the irrational sense of hope ripped from him as he recalled what he should have known already: it was still missing.

"Kendra…"

The rain didn't touch or soothe him, it was the fire piercing him that was agony! Coupled with the withered sense of hope, he fell to the ground completely, barely feeling the rushing water around him that was quick to whisk away all warmth from his body.

Suddenly he felt weightless and heavy at the same time. His chest rattled as he struggled to breathe. What was left of his coherent mind quickly crushed what little hope remained: if this was organized, then there was no way he would survive him being gunned down in a back alley and a trip to Castelia's nearest hospital. Before the museum heist his only complaints in life were long hours filled with boredom that would last until retirement from his job. He had the opportunity to die as an old man in his warm bed, fading quietly away from existence. That future seemed out of his hands now and how he missed it.

Panic seeped into him like the water soaking his clothes, leaving him cold and exposed.

The last thought that flickered across his mind before his world turned dark was how his blood mingled with that of the former thief whose hope of escape was violently ended.

---

Shout out to OpenDoorLeia and DaggerLobo for keeping me striving to deliver better. Thank you.

Sorry for the late update.

*This was a quote from one of my favorite authors, Karen Marie Moning. It always stuck to me.

As always, please read and review! I want to hear your feedback on this as we get into darker themes. I'd greatly appreciate it!

Happy New Year!

BVR