The twilit forest trail was a dark one indeed, one that wound its way between mighty oaks, towering beeches, and scores of evergreens. The moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dim, ripping shadows on the dirt. Brush lined either side and turned into undergrowth that was lost to darkness beyond the hard-packed earth trail. As if this trail wasn't confusing enough in the daytime, the near total absence of light made navigation just that much more difficult.
Good thing that Father was along for the walk.
They were side by side, ears and eyes sharp for anything suspicious. The sighs of the wind and rustles of the leaves made them turn this way and that. More than once, the breaking of a twig made them both jump.
"Don't worry, son," Blastoise said with a chuckle after the third time this happened, "I don't think it's anything we have to worry about."
Squirtle gave a nervous laugh in response, redoubling his grip on Father's hand in the dark. He returned the pressure.
"Just stay close," he said quietly.
"I will," whispered Squirtle.
Without a doubt, Father's size made him feel much safer, but his concern came from Father's weight. He wasn't exactly the most nimble and was better at meeting the challenge head-on rather than running from it. Built like a tank, Squirtle had seen Father take incredible hits before repaying the favor with his signature move; Hydro Cannon.
Squirtle stepped through some leaves, stirring them up in a gust and sending them away with the wind. He was trying to enjoy the midnight stroll, but the anticipation of their destination was starting to weigh him down. Blastoise noticed this and said in a reassuring voice, "We'll be there soon, son. It's only a little bit longer."
Sure enough, there loomed a dark shape out of the night, standing even taller than Blastoise. They turned right to approach the large, rusty gate overgrown with ivy. Blastoise wrapped a hand around one of the bars, tugged, and with a long, loud creak, opened the gate to the cemetery.
Once they entered the boundaries of the wrought-iron fence, a soft glow of light seemed to illuminate the graveyard. No longer were they completely in the dark like back on the trail, but they could see the silhouettes of many headstones spread out before them. In neat rows sat these headstones, some showing signs of age and weathering whilst the marble of others glowed as brightly as the moon above. The two appreciated the sight before moving forward in unison. They've been here so many times before that neither needed direction to just one grave in particular.
Past many rows of stone and marble they walked, carving deeper and deeper into the expanse of grassy knolls. Though the eerie glow of light persisted, Squirtle was not worried; rather, he was comforted by the half-light. Unexplainable though it was, there was something about it that seemed to ease whatever worries he had.
On and on they walked towards the very back of the cemetery. It wasn't much longer until another silhouette became visible, this one much larger than the surrounding headstones. It looked like another Blastoise, but slightly shorter and thinner than Father. Its head was hanging down, presumably looking at a gravestone. And if Squirtle wasn't mistaken, that shadowy figure looked quite familiar…
When Squirtle and Blastoise drew near, the figure looked up at their footsteps and gave a wide smile to both of them. Blastoise let go of Squirtle's hand and rushed forward, arms outstretched. When the figure did the same, light relieved the shadows and finally illuminated the stranger.
"Mother?" Squirtle gasped.
She looked down while embracing her husband and simply smiled.
"But—" Squirtle stuttered, "but—you died!"
"True," she said, "but does that mean I'm really gone?"
Squirtle simply had no words.
"I'm so glad I can see you again," rumbled Father with his head resting on Mother's shoulder. Tears were silently flowing down his cheeks. "I've missed you so much…"
"I missed you too," said Mother. "Five years of waiting… finally over. Now we can be together again."
Squirtle's chest felt like it was being compressed. He was utterly confused as to how this was happening.
"Wait a minute," he said with difficulty, "how—what—?"
Mother disengaged herself and kneeled down to Squirtle's level.
"Son," she said gently, "you must understand something. Just because somebody close to you has died doesn't mean they've left forever."
"She's right, you know," said Father as he joined them.
"But if you're dead," said Squirtle, trying to comprehend even a little bit of the situation, "does that mean I'm dead as well?"
"No," said Father, "I decided to take you on a visit before your mother and I go on together."
"Why can't I go with you?" asked Squirtle, struggling to hold back tears as all realization hit him.
"Because you're much younger and much more valuable than I am," said Father firmly. "You're too young to have departed just yet."
"No!" Squirtle cried out, "We have to be together! We can't be separated!"
"I'm afraid it's got to be like this," said Mother sadly, "Your time will come, but we'll be waiting for you, just like I did for your father." She smiled and kissed her husband on the cheek, the latter flushing in the half-light.
Squirtle's throat began to burn white-hot, his eyes itching and watering at the same time. It was just too much to believe that he was being left behind like this.
"But I'll be all by myself," said Squirtle shakily. "I don't want to have to live like that!"
"That's not true," said Mother quickly. "You'll have a new group to be with and a fantastic guardian as well. I've been watching him, and I'm sure he'll take great care of you. Just watch out when he gets a fiery temper going because it's hard to stop; 'passion,' some may call it…"
"Just keep your head on and you'll be fine," Father supplemented.
"I'm so proud of how far you've come," said Mother happily as she took Squirtle's hands into her own. "You've shown bravery beyond anything either I or your father could have ever asked from you. But now, we're asking just one more thing from you."
"Just the one?" said Squirtle sullenly. Father chuckled.
"Okay, two things," Father amended to Mother's statement. "One; trust your friends and your guardian, even if you don't necessarily agree with them. Their decisions are for the best of the group. You never bite the hand that feeds.
"Two; remember that we're always watching over you. Even when you feel alone, just know that we'll be with you."
"Really?" choked Squirtle through tears.
"Of course!" exclaimed Mother, "We will always be there."
Squirtle couldn't contain himself. He lunged into Mother's arms and broke down completely. She wrapped him in a warm hug, one that Squirtle remembered very well even when he hadn't received one like it from her in five years. Father joined in for the group hug, making Squirtle cry all the harder.
"Shh," crooned Mother, holding Squirtle tight, "don't cry, son. It's not the end of the world. We'll see you soon enough."
How long the three of them were hugging, nobody knew. Squirtle knew only one thing; all he wanted to do was hold on, and he never wanted to let go. But slowly, Squirtle managed to regain control of himself and finally release Mother. Still kneeling at Squirtle's level, she asked, "Is there anything you'd like to know before we leave?"
"Yes," Squirtle said with a sniffle. "Is this real, or is it all just happening inside my head?"
Mist started to drift into the graveyard as Squirtle's parents beamed at him. Father's voice rang out loud and clear, "Of course this is happening inside your head, but why would that ever mean it isn't real?"
They then turned around and began walking hand in hand to the cemetery exit. Squirtle knew he could not follow to where they were going and felt helpless as he watched their silhouettes shrink away from him. They cut through the thickening, swirling mist, looking oddly impressive as they crested a hill before disappearing from view.
Squirtle sat down on the ground, gradually becoming enveloped in the mist. He thought he could hear the creaking of an old gate before being surrounded by the darkness.
The pain was incredible. It felt like he had gotten walloped by a train. He was aching all over, especially in his torso. His slow breaths felt like he was battling against tight binds wrapped around his chest. His brain felt extremely groggy and unresponsive as he listened to the whisper of voices near him.
"I still can't believe he's alive."
"Me neither; Nurse Joy and her helpers really outdid themselves."
"Nine hours, wasn't it?"
"More than that, I believe. Mind you, they couldn't take any breaks until he was stabilized; it took them that long just to do that. It was another three-and-a-half or four hours until he was out of critical condition."
"How do you know?"
"You fell asleep! You went back to the couch, out like a light! I stayed up until Nurse Joy came back out at four in the morning to update me."
"No wonder you look tired."
He was desperate to open his eyes and see who the speaker was, but he didn't even have the energy to lift his eyelids. The one slightly rougher voice he did not recognize, but the other was vaguely familiar. Where he had heard it before he was unsure, but it almost sounded like a friend he lost years ago.
It was nice and warm, this mattress was. How he wished to just sink into its depths…
"I was never more scared before in my life."
More scared… before… in my life…
Everything came back so quickly that he received an instant head rush. The man in the suit and his Pokémon, he and Father making a break to escape, and he being told by Father to run as his last words; it all flooded back in milliseconds and made his brain pound. He gasped and reached involuntarily for his head.
The surroundings went very still, the whispers had stopped, and Squirtle felt eyes watching him. He lowered his hands slowly and opened his eyes.
The sight made his insides clench and aggravate his already sorely beaten body. Two individuals—or more accurately, one Pokémon and one completely unfamiliar being—were sitting in chairs drawn up beside his bed. The far one was obviously a Gengar, even though Squirtle had only ever seen one once that he could remember. The near one was nothing like he had ever witnessed before. He was very large; if Squirtle had to estimate, he would put this stranger at six and a half feet tall. His tail was long and purple as it too was unmoving. He absentmindedly reached towards his armor-like chest and scratched. Squirtle's eyes followed his hand and he was taken aback by the presence of a mere three digits. From behind his neck Squirtle could see a strange appendage that seemed to connect the back of his head to his breastplate. When Squirtle looked closer at these two, he realized that both had heavy eyelids and shadows under their eyes. Obviously, they've been awake for many hours. Was it solely because of himself?
The near one (was it a Pokémon? He looks so strange…) lowered his hand and leaned forward.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a voice appropriate for addressing someone on their deathbed.
Squirtle simply shook his head, trying not to let himself get too dizzy from this simple action. But even then a strong ringing deafened his right ear. He put a hand to it and discovered while doing so that an IV was in his finger. In fact, there were numerous things attached to him, including a supply of oxygen that connected with his nostrils. His entire torso was dressed tightly in stiff, white bandages. Every time he shifted, his ribs, sternum, and back all hurt at the same time.
"I didn't think so," the stranger breathed sadly. He leaned back and buried his face in his hands, rubbing it in a fashion that confirmed his exhaustion. "We're just so glad you're still here with us." He paused for a moment before saying, "But to be honest, I thought you'd be a little more restless than this."
Squirtle didn't know how to respond, so he chose to be silent. The Gengar was fiddling with his hands, constantly twiddling his thumbs and flexing his fingers in agitation. Squirtle shifted his eyes to the stranger instead.
The longer he observed, the more and more familiar the stranger seemed. He couldn't understand why this was, so he very carefully asked, "Do I know you?" in a high, raspy voice he barely recognized as his own.
The stranger looked up slowly with a hint of incredulity on his face and murmured, "Err… I was the one that saved you, Squirtle. You almost died in the backstreets of Cerulean City. I had to fly you here, to Ether Valley, because the Cerulean Pokémon Center was closed." His brow furrowed slightly before adding, "Don't you remember?"
"No—wait!" Squirtle exclaimed. Slowly, the trip in question came back to his memory. "I do remember! You asked me to call you 'a friend,' right?"
"Correct," he said with a smile. From behind, the Gengar shot them both a quizzical look.
"Forgive me for asking you, sir," Squirtle addressed politely, "but surely I can't refer to you simply as 'a friend?'"
"No, of course not. That's just silliness on my part," he said apologetically. "My name is Mewtwo, and this is Gengar." He motioned behind him while Gengar acknowledged the introduction with a wave of his hand. Squirtle tried to return it, but a sharp pain hit his side like a sword. His smile turned to a grimace in an instant as he put a hand to his side. Mewtwo noticed this and said, "Please, try not to move too much. You have three ribs, a sternum, six vertebrae, and a shell mending as we speak. That's why you have this on." He touched a finger to the stiff bandages around Squirtle's torso.
"Right," Squirtle mumbled, "thanks." He realized at once how ungrateful he sounded and made to amend it immediately. "I mean—thank you. Really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I don't know where I'd be without your help."
Mewtwo gave a slight smile and said, "I can't take all the credit. You really do need to thank Nurse Joy and her staff. Come to think of it, I need to thank her as well…" He lifted a foot and rubbed the bandage wrapped around it, much like the ones wrapped around Squirtle.
Silence followed these words, during which Squirtle was thinking hard. How did all of this come about exactly? Maybe they could offer another side to the story?
"Hey, Me—Mewtwo?" he asked tentatively. Mewtwo turned in response and looked him in the eye.
"Hmm?"
"What exactly happened? I mean, can you tell me through your eyes?"
Mewtwo nodded and, without preamble, dove right into the explanation. For nearly a quarter of an hour he talked, explaining every detail about his and Gengar's trip in Cerulean City. Squirtle listened with rapt attention, not wishing to interrupt the orator's speech. When Mewtwo described the flight, Squirtle realized that his side of the ensuing conversation helped to ease the blurred recollection. He could see the images in his brain sharpen slightly as a result.
"After Nurse Joy told us at four in the morning yesterday that you were out of critical condition, we've been waiting around for a chance to see you; just to, you know, see if you're all right. So we came in at eight this morning and… now we're here."
"You waited? For me?" asked Squirtle, touched by their actions. "That's—I—"
Mewtwo held up his hand to silence Squirtle. The former took a moment before saying, "Did you really expect us to just leave you?"
"I… N—no, of course not…" Squirtle stammered, temporarily struck dumb by the question. But instead of scolding him, Mewtwo smiled kindly before adopting a more serious tone.
"From what we've heard, it sounds like you've no place to go in terms of family, which saddens me greatly. It was truly unfair what has happened to you in the past forty-eight hours. However, it is certainly not the end of the world. It is only the beginning of something great to come."
Squirtle frowned, "What are you trying to say?"
Mewtwo resumed his smile and said, "Come join us, and we won't have let your parents die in vain. Join us, and I will protect you more fully than you could ever imagine. Walk with us on a journey of infinite possibilities. Let me be your guardian, Squirtle."
Something jammed in Squirtle's brain, as if someone threw a spanner in the midst and stopped everything. This stranger be his guardian? Throw himself blindly into this unknown group? How could he trust him?
As these questions reeled in his brain, a memory floated through it all to the surface, so sharp that it seemed like he had only just witnessed it…
You'll have a new group to be with and a fantastic guardian as well. I've been watching him, and I'm sure he'll take great care of you.
And quite suddenly, the worries were erased, out of sight like they had been thrown out of a window. He couldn't explain how, but the doubts were replaced by total trust in this Pokémon that sat before him. Mewtwo had saved him from certain death in the alleys of Cerulean City. There was no way that the former had ever known him, but this random act of kindness was one that left Squirtle forever indebted to his actions.
With a deep breath, Squirtle looked directly into Mewtwo's eyes and said, "Yes, I—of course. Please be my guardian, Mewtwo. I mean, how can I say no?"
"I'm so glad. Welcome to the team, Squirtle."
Behind Mewtwo, Gengar gave Squirtle a reassuring nod and added, "You'll fit right in with the gang, most definitely."
This newfound agreement overwhelmed Squirtle; just like that, he was a part of a new group, in which he would adventure with. No longer would he go on strolls with his father, but rather explore the world with Mewtwo and the others. To Squirtle, it felt as if he'd truly taken the first step to growing up.
Noticing the strained look on Squirtle's face, Mewtwo said, "Of course, we'll wait for your recovery. We don't want to rush you back on your feet."
"Thank you," Squirtle said weakly as another stab of pain hit him in the ribs, "It really means a lot."
In that moment, Nurse Joy entered the room holding different medical supplies.
"All right you two," Nurse Joy began, speaking directly to Mewtwo and Gengar, "Squirtle still needs his rest, and it's time to give him another dose of medicine. There will be plenty of others opportunities to give him a visit."
"That's fine," Mewtwo answered. He turned to address Squirtle, "Get well soon; we'll definitely bring the others along to visit as well. See you tomorrow."
"See you," Squirtle returned glumly. After watching Mewtwo and Gengar leave the room, he faced Nurse Joy. She smiled, creating conversation as she poured Squirtle's medicine into a small cup.
"That was nice of them to come and visit, wasn't it?" she asked, setting aside the cup temporarily and fiddling with one of Squirtle's IVs.
"Yes, it was," replied Squirtle. He was looking around a bit absently as he tried to voice what was on his mind. "But why does he want to know so much about me? What makes me so special?"
"He cares," Joy said simply. "I don't know if you remember, but he stumbled through those front doors with you in his arms, his stamina all but gone. He did everything in his power to make sure that you arrived here as fast as possible."
"Why are his feet bandaged? Was that the same reason?"
"Yes. He ran all the way from Battery Hill to the Cerulean City Pokémon Center, trying to get you to safety. His feet were all sliced up, so I had a helper bandage them while he was sleeping from the journey."
"That's so kind of you!"
Squirtle saw Nurse Joy smile in a tired, almost mechanical fashion.
"It's all in a day's work."
She finished with Squirtle's IVs and handed him the little cup of medicine.
"Here, drink this; it's for your pneumonia and will help you sleep. You're going to need a lot of rest the next few days to get rid of your illness."
Squirtle accepted the medicine and drank. It burned his throat, causing him to cough and splutter and make his whole body ache again. The medicine left a chill like peppermint on his breath.
"Anything else?" Squirtle asked through the coughs that assailed him.
"Not for now," said Joy, recollecting the tray she brought in, "You'll be falling asleep fairly directly because of that medicine, so I suggest you get as comfortable as you can." She was about to exit when she turned back briefly and asked, "Do you prefer a time for your visitors tomorrow?"
Squirtle gave a noncommittal shrug in response. He was already feeling the effects of his medicine as he settled down and let himself lean back. Joy turned out the overhead lights, letting the natural light flood the room. Squirtle watched the clock on the wall, eyeing the second hand tick in circles. Round and round it went, the minute hand slowly working its way past the number three. The hour hand refused to move, however; it stayed resolutely on the number nine. Though it was a bright morning, the room seemed to be slowly darkening, gradually swallowing everything in shadow. Only the clock was visible before it too was lost to the darkness as Squirtle felt himself sinking into the depths of his warm mattress.
"You know, Mewtwo," Gengar began as they walked through the town square, "I was really surprised how determined you were to make Squirtle a part of the team. Not that I object, just—what led you to that decision so quickly?"
With an aloof expression, Mewtwo answered, "Seeing Squirtle like that, I knew it was up to me to take responsibility for him. Let that man ruin another Pokémon's life? I just couldn't let that slide. I knew I'd be able to save him; save him from a broken future."
Gengar nodded, knowing full well what Mewtwo meant. To be a victim of Giovanni is something immensely difficult to recover from. Gengar and Mewtwo both were still recovering as they spoke. Changing the subject, Gengar continued.
"Hey, the others have probably been expecting us for a while now."
"Oh, you're right." With recent events, Mewtwo had forgotten all about his current agenda. "We'd better go pay them a visit then, and explain what happened."
Within ten minutes, Gengar and Mewtwo arrived in front of Alder's cottage. Alder welcomed them openly, waiting to hear the results of their travel.
"Ah! There you guys are! A bit late, huh? Anyway, make any progress?" Alder began. He noticed Mewtwo scanning the room, as if searching for someone, and said, "Allen's been spending all morning eagerly studying in the library, so I haven't seen him around too much."
"Huh?" Mewtwo asked, momentarily taken aback by all the speech that had hit him in quick succession. "I—oh, right… that's where he is… erm… Yeah, we made some progress with our move sets on—oh, dear, when was that? Was it Monday we left?"
Alder nodded and asked, "About that—what took you so long? We were expecting you that afternoon, evening at the latest."
Once again, Mewtwo told the story of his and Gengar's trip, culminating in their visit to Squirtle just that morning.
"So, you see," Mewtwo concluded, "We hardly had a chance to see you in between everything that's happened. That's understandable, right?"
"Of course," Alder said with an incline of his head. "I don't blame you in the slightest for helping somebody in distress. You did a very honorable thing, Mewtwo, and I commend you for that. It takes real character to help out a complete stranger, especially one in mortal danger. How is he doing now?"
"Nurse Joy said he's doing fine," said Mewtwo. "I said we'd all come back tomorrow so that he could meet everybody."
Alder nodded his head again and asked, "And what do you plan to do with him, once he's been patched up? Surely he can't be left on his own?"
"Certainly not," said Mewtwo. "I want to be his guardian, because he doesn't have anywhere else to turn and he's dealt with more than many people could ever imagine. I'd also like him to be a part of our group. I feel like it would be wrong to exclude him."
"That's a big responsibility, but if anyone was to be up to the task, it would be you. As long as you feel this is the right thing to do, I'll support your decision. I'll certainly ensure Squirtle feels welcome."
"Thank you, I really appreciate it."
"Oh, you might also want to stop by the library to give Allen a heads up with these new developments."
"Good point," Mewtwo said as he turned to Gengar, "Gengar, you've been accompanying me all day, so you can rest here while I go tell Allen. You deserve a break, right? I've put you through quite a bit."
Gengar opened his mouth to speak, but instead just nodded. He was right; it had been a long forty-eight hours. There would be no harm in taking a bit of a rest while Mewtwo went to go see Allen. Noting Gengar's final gesture, Mewtwo began to make his way to the door.
"All right, I'll be back then. See you guys later."
He waved goodbye to the two of them, picked up his jacket from the coat rack next to him, and opened the door to the November morning. The chill air hit him like a wall, instantly stealing any warmth he had accumulated in Alder's cottage. Shivering slightly, he pulled on the jacket and walked down the streets of Ether. A low ceiling of puffy gray clouds had drifted over the town, threatening rain like back in Cerulean. Cold gusts seeped into his jacket and edged him to move faster in response.
The puddles hadn't evaporated yet from the streets and sidewalks, forcing Mewtwo to meander and attempt to keep dry as he entered the square. In a jarring departure from what he was used to, the square was completely devoid of people. Cars sat silently, fine drops of water covering them like a sheet. Mewtwo spared the square a sweeping glance before cutting left across the pavement. The library stood just down the road, windows streaked wet and the small patches of grass around the property slippery with water. Mewtwo observed this building with tired eyes, remembering what felt like millennia ago when he first stepped inside. Mewtwo shook off the water from his feet before opening the door with a creak.
From first glance, Mewtwo immediately registered that there was nobody to be found. Even the head librarian was missing from the front desk. This struck him as odd; surely there was at least somebody around besides Allen? But never mind that, Mewtwo had more important things on his mind…
He retraced the path he took a month earlier. Everything was almost exactly how he had remembered as he walked past the rows of bookshelves. He even saw the very same book titles that jumped out at him like the first time. It gave Mewtwo a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
He turned the corner, and, sure enough, there sat Allen right where Mewtwo expected him. He was sitting at the table precisely where he did when Mewtwo first laid eyes on him. At this point, Mewtwo was feeling unexplainable anxiety with how eerily similar the situation was compared to his memory. Allen had his face buried in a large, leather-bound book with more books spread out on the table. Sheets of what looked like notes were scattered about on every available surface, including the chair he had pulled out to accommodate his wheelchair. Allen didn't notice Mewtwo approach, and only looked up when the latter sat down across from him.
Glancing up, Allen's impassive face immediately turned to surprise. His eyes lit up, as if he had just been shaken from a trance.
"Mewtwo! I didn't expect to see you! How did the trip go?"
Hearing Allen's voice lifted much of the uneasiness Mewtwo had been feeling. Taking a deep breath, he smiled and answered, "Nice to see you, Allen. Gengar and I were supposed to be back earlier, but we ended up caught in a little situation."
"Oh?" Allen questioned, "What happened? I've been studying since dawn, so I sort of cut myself off from the world for a bit. I could use a nice synopsis." He chuckled at his own remark.
"Ah... well… you see…"
For what he sincerely hoped was the last time, Mewtwo gathered the rest of his energy to tell the story of finding Squirtle. Allen listened intently as Mewtwo described the events from when Gengar and Mewtwo had rushed back to Ether up to Mewtwo standing before him. By the time Mewtwo finished his summation, all of his energy was drained, and the exhaustion began to set in. Allen nodded at the conclusion of everything he had heard.
"Wow," Allen breathed, "That's some way to end your Cerulean trip. You definitely did the right thing, so you certainly have my full support! We'll all definitely check on Squirtle tomorrow, but for now, I think you need some rest yourself. You must be exhausted, so don't overexert yourself."
Mewtwo slowly nodded his head, feeling the drowsiness settling. Thinking of a place to rest, he thought back to the Pokémon Center. It had already been quite a while since he first arrived at Ether, so staying at the Pokémon Center any longer would simply feel like imposing. Where would he stay? Thinking harder, he remembered Alder's initial offer to stay at his cottage. At this moment, resting at Alder's seemed to be the best plan of action.
Mewtwo yawned widely, lifting his arms above his head to stretch. In this action, Allen glanced up and caught sight of the old scars on Mewtwo's side. His gaze lingered for a few seconds, but Mewtwo didn't notice until he saw Allen's slightly vacant eyes after resuming his position.
"What?" Mewtwo asked, noticing what Allen was looking at.
"Just… just thinking…" he said in an absent voice.
"About what?"
"Well…" Allen said slowly, "You've always said that you want to undo the bad from your past. And—I don't even know if it's possible… Tim would have to do a lot of work along with some other people…"
He seemed to be speaking more to himself than anybody. Mewtwo could imagine the gears working inside Allen's head as he was thinking aloud.
"What are you on about?" Mewtwo asked, trying to press him to the subject.
Allen didn't immediately respond. He seemed to still be thinking to himself. However, he finally spoke up in a hushed voice.
"Our research department was given an artefact of technological importance quite a while ago. It was a suit of armor designed to work in conjunction with a Pokémon in order to enhance its abilities. The department's funder wanted us to take a look at it, but we haven't quite gotten around to the task. In his own words, he wanted us to try and 'unlock' the power that the suit offered. Think of it as something like power armor, just not as bulky."
Mewtwo contracted his eyebrows in speculation and said, "Right… but what does this have to do with me?"
Allen looked up, but his voice was still a bit cast away as if he wasn't entirely sure about what he was saying.
"If we were to rebuild the suit—that is, our research department would recover the key components of the armor and have our University's metalworkers and fabricators build the suit from the ground up to fit you specifically—you could use it instead of the Mega Ring if situations were ever to arise. From what you told me about your trip to Cerulean, it seems like people still remember you from all those years ago. People might try to… get you back now that you've returned, if you know what I mean. The suit will act doubly to improve your abilities and conceal your identity. Plus, the Mega Ring can be used on another Pokémon should we ever require it."
"That's all well and good," said Mewtwo, "but how much will this cost? Surely your funder wouldn't be too impressed if you go flaunting his money like that?"
"Money's not a problem," Allen said quite baldly. "He always tells us that we don't have to be cautious with it. Don't worry about that part."
Mewtwo hadn't realized that he was sitting on the edge of his seat, leaning forward with elbows on the table. Apparently, the subject was interesting him more than he had anticipated.
"How long will it take?" he asked eagerly.
Allen shrugged before saying, "I dunno… three, maybe four weeks. You can come into the University when it's finished to test it out. You can even meet the rest of our team while you're there."
Excitement was quickly stealing through Mewtwo. He no longer felt tired; on the contrary, he wanted to take action as soon as possible.
"Sign me up!" Mewtwo said with a grin, and the two of them began to discuss this newfound idea in finer detail.