Quinton burst into the light of the campfire just a few minutes later, sweating and exhausted. He gasped for breath as he dropped armfuls of supplies haphazardly on the ground. His Moemon followed closely behind, gasping for joy as they collided with my own. The group devolved into relieved laughter, and everyone was in each other's arms.

When Quinton and I separated, the laughter had died down, and his side sat down eagerly awaiting my story. I frowned, already tired from giving the speech once before. I didn't want to give it so many more times.

"You look awful, like you've been running for days," Quinton joked, trying to ease me in.

I smiled uncertainly. "I think I have." I blinked, slightly swaying as my body wanted to give in to my exhaustion.

He noticed. "Do you want to wait until we're all together?" He suggested. I nodded gratefully. "Then I guess we should call the others, right? Or do you want to talk more?"

"I kind of just want to sleep," I admitted. I nodded at the swear dripping from his nose. "But I don't think you'll be able to after your run."

Quinton smirked. "Already cracking jokes?" His smirk quickly dropped. "So are you okay?"

"Of course not, man," I muttered, shaking my head. "I don't know if I'll ever be okay. Like I said, I just want to sleep."

"Do you, really?"

I recalled the eyes and the ocean of blood and the drowning bodies. I shivered, suddenly feeling cold. "No," I admitted quietly. "I'm scared to sleep."

"I know. You talk in your sleep," Quinton replied.

"Do I really?"

Quinton nodded. "You look miserable when you sleep. Ever since your fight with Eric-" he paused, watching me carefully. "-uh…"

"You can say his name. I know he's safe; I saw it myself. It won't fix what I did, but I can get some closure from it."

"Right… well, you're incredibly restless and constantly muttering. Always about eyes."

I winced. I had no idea he knew about my dreams. If he knew, my Moemon knew, and I had to keep from glancing at Olivia. "I don't want to talk about sleeping anymore."

"I just hope it'll be dreamless," said Quinton. "You deserve it."

I gave Christine's hand a squeeze. "I know what'll help," I said. "But seriously, let's change the subject. What've you been doing these past few days? Not training."

"I couldn't risk it," Quinton answered. "There isn't a Moemon Center nearby; the nearest is in Fuschia City, but that is a four-day hike. I also couldn't let anyone else know I'm a Challenger. We're still being hunted, remember."

"I'm used to that," I muttered. It had slipped my mind since the police station, and the reminder only gave me something else to worry about. "You haven't seen any of the Hunters prowling around?"

"None that stand out," Quinton replied. "Do you want the folder?"

I shook my head. "I wouldn't remember it after I sleep. I'll read it later."

"No sign of Hunter N, by the way. I know you warned me about him."

I nodded, glancing at Stacy's icy stare. Quinton continued, "I've been walking around from campsite to campsite learning what I could from the locals. I met a lot of nice people who were kind enough to give me supplies. I gave them false names; I don't think any of them recognized me."

"What'd you learn?" I asked.

"There were rumors of Challengers in the city, so all news helicopters were barred from filming any of the war," Quinton answered grimly. He pointed off in the distance at a moving spark in the sky. "Part of the Challenger Identity Protection Act - that law banning filming challengers. They can only film up to the city walls."

I tilted my head curiously. "Why do you seem so upset about that?"

"It's just ridiculous. The entire region was watching the war, and nobody could see what was happening. An entire civil war is going to go unrecorded just because of that law."

"So what? I don't want it recorded; I don't want to be reminded of it!"

"Everything that was accomplished in that city will go undocumented," Quinton elaborated. "What will happen is people will fabricate facts. Nobody will know the truth. Nobody will know how the war will be won."

"It already ended, Quinton, and I know exactly how it was won," I replied grimly. "I was there when it happened."

"You're one person," Quinton countered. "Even if you're a Challenger, there's no proof that you were there to witness it."

"Fair point," I conceded. "Not that I'd ever tell anyone."

"If you told anyone, someone would disagree with you, and the truth will be forever lost."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration."

"History's written by the victors, Arthur," Quinton reminded me. "Who won today?"

"The Mewtwo's Apostles."

Quinton paused, surprised. "Oh. Well, how did they win?"

I paused this time, unsure if I wanted to recall. Quinton could see that I was uncomfortable, so he softened. "Just saw a word. I just want to prove a point."

I obliged. "Well, they-"

"I disagree," Quinton interrupted. "The Mewtwo's Apostles actually won by blowing up the city."

"But that's ridiculous," I countered, pointing at the not-blown-up city. "No one would believe that."

Quinton smirked. "You'd be surprised. But fair enough; they actually won by mind controlling everyone in the city to surrender."

"They can't do that."

"How do you know? Something I learned was that the leaders of the Mewtwo's Apostles are all powerful Psychic Moemon. Mind control seems like something they're capable of doing."

"But an entire city?"

"Who would counter my argument? I could just say their minds were altered."

"You can't erase the bodies lining the streets."

"To be fair, you can, but I see your point. My explanation is obviously incredibly flawed, but I hope you understand why I'm upset. If all of this wasn't documented by numerous sources, nobody will know the truth."

"It's a big city," I reasoned. "Nobody could know everything that happened. Something will be lost."

"The important events wouldn't. The cameras watched the Donavan Tower fall, but they couldn't watch it being scavenged. All of these recent explosions had to be hidden. Whatever happened that actually ended the war wasn't recorded. The world will never know."

I nodded, too tired to argue anymore. I understood Quinton's argument, but I didn't see why he cared about what this world saw. We weren't part of it; we shouldn't care what they did or didn't see.

"There were more rumors," Quinton continued after we sat in silence for a few moments. "Rumors that Jennifer Gordon never existed."

It seemed like an eternity since I last heard that name. The girl who was killed in the explosion that destroyed the school. "She never… existed?"

Quinton nodded. "I talked to a lot of parents who had children enrolled in the school. No one ever heard of a child by that name."

"So Mayor Porter lied about her dying?"

"I understand why he'd do it. Attempt to unite the gangs to prevent more tragedies like the loss of an innocent child."

"Must've been told by the police to do it," I said, recalling the several quiet talks Mayor Porter had with Chief Harmen before the speech.

"Do you really think so? These were just rumors. Maybe she was a recent transfer student."

The rooftop flashed in my mind. The crack of a sniper rifle. "The police are definitely capable of it."

Quinton frowned. "Arthur, are you saying the Celadon Police are just as corrupt as the Cerulean Police?"

"No, they're not terrifying," I answered. "They protected both of us, right? They just wanted peace…" I trailed off.

He stared at me, expecting me to say more. "But…"

"But they did things that prove they can be just as bad as all three of those gangs. They know the truth, Quinton, but they'll never tell it. And I can't tell anyone without endangering our lies."

That last sentence threw him off guard. "Come again?" He said. "Why would our lives be in danger?"

"The Mewtwo's Apostles threatened me," I muttered, careful not to say too much. "I can't tell anyone what happened tonight, and I have to support all of their actions if I'm asked."

"That's awful, and it's exactly what I was talking about! What if you don't support them?"

"Then I'd better hope no one cares about my opinion."

"But you told us what happened, Arthur," Christine reminded me.

I grimaced. I had, and I'd done it without realizing the danger. "Guess since we're still alive, they either weren't listening or don't care about you guys." I looked back at Quinton. "I'm serious. If I'm feeling up to it, I'll talk about everything up until the Department Store. No one can know."

"I understand. I don't want to get you in trouble."

"I hope the others take it as well as you do."

"You haven't told them anything?"

I shook my head. "They haven't called me, and I've been too busy recovering."

"Do you want to?"

I sighed. Of course I didn't want to, but with Quinton with me it felt like the best time. "It's dawn. Think they'll be up?" I didn't wait for an answer. I pulled up Sam's name and tapped it. "I hope he's in a good mood."

He wasn't. He picked up after the fifth ring, grunting into the watch. "Arthur…?"

"Sam, hey," I said awkwardly. "Uh… sorry about the bad time, but could you get the others?"

"Wha… yea, yeah…" he shuffled around. "You're out of the city?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm out."

"What? Since when?"

"Few hours," I answered. "Not long enough for you to get mad at me."

He hesitated. "Arthur, seriously, after the shit you've been through I'm not mad at you. I'll get the others. Just wait until I call you back." He hung up.

I looked at Quinton, noting the concern on his face. "Now we wait."

"There's still Hannah."

"And Molly," I added. "But I won't hold my breath for her." I pulled up Hannah's name. She answered nearly immediately.

"Oh my god! You finally called!" She cried. "I saw you two together, but I didn't want to interrupt or anything! You're finally out, Arthur!"

"I'm finally out," I echoed. "I'm glad you sound so happy."

"I'm relieved! All of these things I've heard! People are so callous in this town! There's a betting pool at my restaurant about who will win! It's awful!"

"Who'd you place your money on?" I asked.

"Arthur!" She scolded. "How could you make jokes about this?"

"Because I lived it, and I'd rather joke about it than cry," I said bitterly. "I'm waiting to cry in my dreams."

"…Arthur? Are you okay?"

"I'm better than I've been in a long time. I'm out of that hellhole, and no one openly hates me. It's all up from here." I couldn't manage any more excitement; I was just tired.

"Please, Arthur, I'm here if you want to talk. Don't be afraid to vent to me; I won't say a word to anyone."

"I appreciate it. I'm sure I'll feel better later. I just haven't slept yet."

"Well try to get a long rest," she said hesitantly. "I can't imagine it'll be easy, but try."

"Talk to you later, Hannah."

"I'm glad you're safe."

I hung up. I barely looked at Quinton when it rung again. Sam's name flashed on the screen. All of them had gathered surprisingly quickly in Sam's room.

"Glad to see you safe, Arthur!" Max's voice shouted in the distance. After that call, the room erupted into cheers, dissolving into a mess of static.

I couldn't help but smile as I replied, "Thanks, everyone! I hope you guys don't hate me too much!"

"Don't bring that up, man," groaned Garrett. "It's not the time for that!"

"Is there something you wanted to tell us?" asked Connor. "You brought us all together for a reason."

I bit my lip. I'd already told the story once tonight. I might as well tell it again so that I didn't have to dwell on it as I slept. "Alright guys, I'll give you the basics. I can't say everything; I've been told by very powerful people not to say some things. Just keep that in mind if I have holes."

There was silence on the other end. We were still connected, so I assumed they were quiet in anticipation. I recounted the tale once more: summarizing the journey across the city, the destruction of the tower and Marcus' subsequent accusations; the escape to the police station and the plan, and Karen's kidnapping. At that point, I thought very carefully about the finale.

"We went to the Department Store," I decided. "Karen was killed, and Marcus was killed. The Kanto Kings lost to the Mewtwo's Apostles."

A pause. "But what about Chief Harmen's plan?" asked Jack.

"I don't know," I lied. "Never saw him."

"So the Mewtwo's Apostles won the war?" asked Thomas. "Does that mean the war's over?"

"We'll be able to go up to Celadon City soon?" added Rebecca excitedly.

"We'll find out soon, I think," said Quinton, speaking into my watch. "Chief Harmen gave me a radio when he escorted me."

That reminded me of something. I felt my pocket for the radio Karen had given to me. I needed to check it later on the off chance I could still hear chatter.

"Well tell us so we can head for you guys," said Drew. "It's a two-day trip, right?"

"If you go through Lavender, yes," I answered. "Although I don't know if the tram is going to be working. You might be trapped on the other side of Saffron."

"We'll go through Saffron City, then," said Thomas. "Come on, like that's going to stop us!"

"No," I warned quickly, remembering Hunter X's advice after my fight with his nephews. "Saffron City is home to the Hunters, remember?"

"We'll keep our heads down," said Jack reassuringly.

"A lot of people have been coming down to Vermillion," said Laura. "Even more will be flooding Saffron City. We'll blend in."

"It's a huge risk," I said.

"So we're not allowed to risk our lives after you just risked yours?" demanded Sam.

I gritted my teeth. "I had a good reason."

"And so do we," Sam argued. "To see you! We've all won our badges; we're strong. We can handle ourselves."

I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to convince them. This wasn't how I wanted this conversation to go. "Okay, Sam, just be careful. All of you."

"Let us know when it's safe to come up," Garrett piped up. "We'll get there as soon as we can."

The room shouted goodbye, and I hung up. The deafening noise was replaced with eerie silence. I shuddered slightly, feeling the cold wind. Then I yawned, and exhaustion finally crashed down on me.

"Sorry, but I really have to sleep," I said. Quinton nodded understandingly and went about setting up his sleeping bags. I motioned for Christine to join me, and she obliged. We snuggled into my sleeping bag wrapped into each other's arms for warmth. The moment I set my head down, sleep took hold and surrounded me.

I opened my eyes to see nothing but black stretching to eternity. There was nothing in the sky, nothing below. No flame, no light; no sea, no sky. I breathed sharply, stunned by the infinite darkness. I looked down at my hands, but they weren't there. My body didn't exist. I couldn't feel anything. I was just there. Just existing.

It was horrifying; I needed to exist! I needed something to remind me that I was still alive! I tried to wake up, tried to force my eyes to open, but nothing happened. I was trapped in an endless void. Trying to feel, but there was nothing.

Then there was a miracle! I felt cold! I felt something, and I was so happy I barely noticed the cold came with a dampness. I looked down again, and suddenly there was a clear liquid crawling up my nonexistent legs. I felt my invisible hips, and then my chest, and then my neck. And then I realized that it wasn't stopping, that it covered my mouth. And I couldn't breathe. I was drowning. The liquid flowed into my nose and over my eyes, and suddenly I was blind. But I couldn't close my eyes; I could only feel the liquid flow through every opening into me, and I was helpless to stop it.

I tried to shout for help, tried to swim above the liquid, tried to breathe, but I couldn't move! I was trapped, suspended in this invisible suffocation, trapped in this freezing prison. I couldn't fight it; I could only let it overcome and encompass me. Trapped forever.

I shot up, gasping for breath, cold sweat dripping down my face. Christine shot up with me, tears in her eyes, apologizing for not being able to help. I barely heard her; I rubbed my shoulders, trying to feel the heat. Any heat. The fire was gone, but the sky was high in the sky, and I could feel nothing. I couldn't feel Christine's warmth; she was nothing to me.

I had to get heat. I scrambled out of the sleeping bag and stumbled to my feet, my weakened knees buckling as blood tried to rush through them. I collapsed as my body gave away, hitting the ground with an awful thunk.

"Arthur!" Christine shouted as she rushed to me, trying to warm me with her body. "Arthur, talk to me!"

My face was in the dirt, and suddenly I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't move, and the dirt was suffocating me. I tried to scream, but I couldn't make noise. I was completely helpless.

Christine pushed me onto my back, and I gasped air back into my lungs. She pulled me into a sitting position, rubbing my back and massaging my chest in her desperation. I couldn't see her face; my eyes fixed solely on the ground in front of me. My vision blurred, and her attempts to console me fell muddily upon my ears.

I could see shadows surrounding me, and I could sense them trying to fix me. But I was just glad to be able to feel. I couldn't go back to that eternity. My vision started to blacken, but I tried with all my strength to fight the darkness. I shook my head ever so slightly with my pathetic strength, but the blackness spread across my eyes. I started to panic, trying to will my body to move and help!

Then I felt something blisteringly cold splash across my face. My entire body seized up, and the darkness crawled back out of sight. I gasped, lurching backward instinctively and pushing backwards off the ground. I nearly fell over again, but Christine caught me just before my head hit the ground.

Water dripped off my face as I blinked the shock away. I could finally feel my body reacting to me, but I let myself recover in her arms. My breathing slowed as I calmed, and I slowly moved my arms and legs to make sure they still worked.

My vision recovered, and I looked my Moemon and Quinton and his Moemon watching me with mixed horror and concern. Olivia wiped her mouth, looking guilty. She muttered something, but water still dripped out of my ears and I could only vaguely hear an apology.

"Okay…" I managed to whisper, giving a soft smile. "…is k…"

It took an hour for me to recover enough to talk. All I could do in the meantime was sit and stare in front of me, barely moving my head if anyone passed by. Quinton offered me food, but I knew I couldn't eat. My Moemon constantly asked how I was recovering, but I could only mumble quiet words. They watched helplessly as I fought my weakness alone. That was all they could do.

I practiced the sentence silently, waiting for my voice to return. Olivia looked the most distraught, although I couldn't see Christine's face. Olivia stayed by my side, holding my arm, and I felt other pairs of hands rubbing my back.

Finally, it was time. I could whisper enough. "It's okay," I repeated, looking to my right, my voice audible enough to catch her ears. She looked to me in surprise. "Thank you."

"Arthur…?" Olivia croaked, holding back tears. "Are you…?"

"Fine," I answered quietly. "I'm fine…"

She breathed a sigh of relief and pulled herself into my arm. "You have to be fine… you're not escaping just to die on us now!"

My heart lurched at the word. Die… that was death I saw. The cold, endless nothingness of death; the reminder of all of those countless people who died fighting. I didn't see their bodies this time, I didn't feel their grips pulling me with them. I was with them. That liquid was their life essence; an entire ocean of life that they lose prematurely because of the war. So powerful that even Christine's warmth couldn't penetrate; even she couldn't beat death.

Eventually, Quinton put a plate of scrambled eggs and a cup of cool water in my lap, and I pushed my body to eat it. I got it down, barely chewing, barely tasting. But I had food in my stomach. It helped more than I could imagine. It wasn't long before I moved myself forward, and by that point the others stopped what they were doing to watch me.

"I'm okay, everyone," I answered the question on all of their minds. I tried to smile, but it fell into a grimace as my leg scraped ground but didn't pull me forward. "I'll… be okay."

"You were screaming," Quinton said quietly. "Screaming about drowning, and screaming about nothing."

I nodded slowly. "It was terrifying… it was all around me… the nothingness…"

Quinton nodded, staring at me raptly. But when I didn't elaborate, he added, "Do you not want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to go there again," I whispered. The very thought sent shivers through my body. "I don't want to go back."

My voice turned into a whimper, and Christine pulled me toward her. "You don't have to go back," she whispered into my ear. "You can stay here if you want."

"I don't want to go back there," I whispered again. I couldn't think of anything else to say; my mind couldn't form words. Only the single desire never to return to that nothingness. "I've never… that dream… so horrible."

"Shhh…" Christine shushed me softly. "We're here for you. We won't make you go back. You'll never have to go back."

I nodded, childishly wanting to thank her for not making me. But I knew too well that it was inevitable; I'd have to go back to that awful place. Not that night, not when I closed my eyes. That was the eternity after this life, and I – in my guilt-ridden state – only got a short glimpse.

We'd all go there eventually. And stay forever.

Arthur:

Christine the Charmeleon

Stacy the Staravia

Rose the Roselia

Olivia the Dewott

Annie the Aron

Bailey the Banette

Quinton:

Melody the Metang

Wendy the Quagsire

Lucia the Lucario

Willow the Sudowoodo

Mary the Flaaffy