Well, these next two chapters are, quite possibly, the two most important to date. I've introduced so many different plot elements and it's time some of them were wrapped up. There's lots going on, and we'll find out the answers to some of the oft-repeated questions.
I'd intended to make this a double-update and have it up... two days ago, actually. Well, that didn't happen so you'll have to settle with a single-update for now!
Before we get into this chapter, I just want to thank everyone who nominated my work in the 07-08 SPPf Shipping Oscars. Final Challenge was nominated for Most Dramatic Shipping Plot, Searching for Truth for Best Pearlshipping, Raikou's Test and Emotions for Best Other Pokemon Shipping one-shot, and you nominated me for Best Pearlshipping Author, Best Other Pokemon Shipping Author, Best First Time Shipping Author, and Most Daring Shipping Author. It means a lot to me to have my work thought so highly of, and I want to thank everyone who nominated me for the awards.
Now, on to the chapter!
By the way, did you know there are only 7 reviews to go until #200?
Tracey stretched his back, groaning as he felt the stiffness. Still, as he worked his shoulders in an attempt to relieve a knotted muscle, he had to admit that the strain and back pain was definitely worth it. Rebuilding the lab would take time, but it was going much more quickly than any of them had anticipated.
We were very lucky, he reflected. The Rayquaza had destroyed most of the lab, but the foundations weren't damaged. That alone had saved them a month's work. Professor Oak had also been very cautious when he had originally built the lab. The basement, where he kept his research and backed-up computer data, had been reinforced by two-inch steel walls during it's construction. It meant that months, years of research was safe from harm. It meant that all of the decades Professor Oak had put into studying his unpublished data, and that the millions of yen he had spent on ancient Pokemon artefacts was not a waste.
Tracey turned and surveyed the land. In just a few days they had already finished reconstructing the skeleton of the lab, and they would soon be able to start on the more solid constructions. The extra hands they had to use was a huge bonus. Caroline had returned to Hoenn, but Norman had volunteered to stay and help rebuild. Gary had decided to postpone returning to Sinnoh, and Rey's parents had also volunteered their help. Even Delia was chipping in, in her own way of course. Each night the workers would troop down to the Ketchum residence and be greeted by a massive spread. It was the perfect way to relax and unwind after a long and hard day of work.
He had to admit, though, that as welcome as all the unexpected help was, the biggest factor had been Ash's 29 Tauros. Usually, they were filled with energy and rampaged around the lab's grounds completely carefree. Now they were, well, filled with energy, and their strength and eagerness to help was the main reason why the skeleton had been erected so quickly. Lots of other Pokemon, including Gary's Blastoise, Nidoking, and Nidoqueen, as well as Norman's Vigoroth and Slaking, had also been a huge help, but there was no doubt that it was because of Ash's Tauros that the first stage of work had been completed so quickly.
"Hey," a voice called out from behind him. Turning, Tracey was surprised to see that only a few feet away, a dark-haired young man stood casually with his hands in his pockets, an expression of polite interest on his face.
Wow, he's quiet. How'd he manage to get so close without me hearing him? he wondered. "Hey there," he said aloud with a friendly grin to the man. "Come to help with the rebuilding? You're a bit late for today's work, everybody's just finishing up. Want to join us for supper? We'll be heading down the hill in a mi-"
"Thank you, but no," the stranger interrupted. "I'm not here to help rebuild. I'm looking for Professor Oak." Tracey frowned.
"You do know that we're in the middle of a huge reconstruction, don't you? The Professor really doesn't have any time to spare for journalists, or to answer any trivial questions." The stranger's eyes gleamed curiously.
"I'm well aware that you're in the middle of rebuilding the lab," he said softly. "I'd have to be blind - and deaf - not to have realized it by now. As for my question…" He smiled slightly, and a sudden shiver ran down Tracey's spine. "I can assure you that it is a matter of vital importance."
Tracey eyed him. "The Professor left for a phone call about half an hour ago," he said. "He's taking it at the Ketchum's house. Go down the hill towards Pallet Town and turn right. It's the third house on the left. There may be a Mr. Mime sweeping or gardening outside." Without a word, the stranger nodded, turned, and left. Tracey watched him go, apprehension flittering around his gut. Danger hung around this person. He could see it as clearly as a Lucario could aura. He could feel it. Something bad was about to happen. And if it did, the Professor was much better equipped to handle the situation than he was.
"Kurt!" Professor Oak exclaimed, his eyes racing across the screen; he could hardly believe what he was seeing. "What… what happened to you?"
"I was attacked," Kurt answered quietly. "Somebody stormed into my workshop, stole my last Apricorn Ball, and paralysed me."
"Kurt, you need to see a doctor right away," Oak said, eyeing the injuries on Kurt's face and arms.
"It's not important," Kurt said roughly. He fixed the Professor with a watering, aggrieved eye. "Professor. Sam. He wanted the GS Ball." Professor Oak went cold.
"Did… did he get it?" he whispered, almost afraid to ask. Kurt hesitated before answering.
"No," he said finally. "But he knows that you have it, Sam. I'm sure he's travelling to Pallet as we speak." Professor Oak paused.
"What do you mean 'he knows that I have it'?" he asked. "I thought you still had it."
"I gave it to that girl with the Pidgeot, like you asked," Kurt answered. "What was her name… May. Didn't she give it to you when she arrived in Pallet?"
"No," Professor Oak said in a strangled voice. "She arrived the morning of Ash's match, and then what with the Rayquaza attack… I'd almost forgotten about it until now."
"Then you're both in danger!" Kurt shouted. "He'll get to Pallet and search you out, and when he finds out that you don't have it he'll start to track her down too!"
"May is travelling with Ash at the moment; she'll be safe enough with him," Professor Oak said slowly.
"And what about you, Sam?" Kurt asked. "This guy is ruthless. Once he found out I didn't have the GS Ball anymore, he used his Pokemon to knock me out. He won't be afraid to do the same, or worse, to you." At this Oak grinned, and there was no fear in his gaze.
"I don't like his chances, facing off against me, Gary, and Norman," he said with a hint of steel in his voice. "Now tell me: what did he look like, and what Pokemon did he have?"
Immediately after his video call with Kurt, Oak dialled up Professors Elm, Birch, Ivy, Rowan, and Aspen to see if any trainer had recently exchanged their Magnezone for a held Pokemon. After hearing a chorus of "no's", and gaining their assurances that they would contact him straight away if any such exchange was made, he slumped at the table feeling mentally exhausted.
"Dinner will be ready in a moment, Professor," Delia whispered as she passed by him, a massive salad in her arms. That'll wake you up a bit."
"I really hope so, Delia," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "There's just so much going on; I feel as if my mind is about to explode."
"Oh, it'll sort itself out soon enough," she smiled. "Then you'll wonder what there was to be so stressed about." He nodded absentmindedly as she bustled back off to the kitchen, his mind filled with worry. He was jerked out of his stupor by the sound of the phone ringing. It stopped abruptly on the third ring and he heard Delia's voice.
"Oh hi, Brock. How are you all? Where are you calling from?"
"Delia, we need to talk to Professor Oak right away. It's an emergency; is he there?" Brock asked, ignoring her questions. A sudden flitter of apprehension ran through Oak's body. He stood quickly and made his way to the videophone as Delia turned towards him.
"What's the problem, Brock?" he asked as soon as he reached the monitor.
"May's ill," Brock said. "There's a pustule on her chest, and Nurse Joy needs you to help guide her through the operation. We think it might be -" Professor Oak stared over Brock's shoulder at the scene playing out in front of him, oblivious to the tail-end of Brock's sentence.
With an inhuman screech, May lunged from the hospital bed and fastened her hands around Joy's throat. There was a moment of surprised thrashing, somebody off screen screamed, and then a burst of acrid, black smoke drifted upwards, completely obscuring the screen.
"What's happening?" he yelled. But there was no response, save for a scream.
The rushing noise of the wind blowing past his body stopped. This is it, he thought calmly. I'm dead. I can't hear or see anything. The world is black. It's just me and my thoughts. Alone, forever. Something suddenly tickled his nose. Grimacing in irritation, he tried to brush it away but found his arms were unresponsive. Strange, he thought. Why would my nose itch if I were dead? Drew opened his eyes.
The ground hovered in front of him, mere inches from his nose. A stalk of grass was rubbing against his nose, quivering from a very slight breeze. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly before opening them again. The ground was still there. But why am I floating? he wondered. I fell thousands of feet. Why aren't I dead? That was when he noticed his vision was tinted violet.
It's a Psychic, he realized. Somebody stopped my fall using Psychic.
"So, it's you," he heard a familiar voice say. Then came a snort. "I wouldn't have stopped you if I'd known who you were." The purple haze in front of his eyes vanished, and he dropped. Grimacing and rubbing his nose, he twisted his neck and saw a person whom he had sincerely hoped he would never have to see again.
"Max," he said with a curt nod, scrambling to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his Flygon held in place a foot or so above the ground, contained in another Psychic. It was still unconscious. He turned his gaze back to Max and immediately recognized the two Pokemon he had called out; Claydol, levitating in slow circles around it's trainer, and Gardevoir, her body glowing violet and her eyes closed as she concentrated on keeping Flygon in the air.
"Think you can let my Flygon go now?" Drew asked the younger trainer. Max shook his head, an ugly look on his face.
"No. Not until you explain to me exactly why you did it."
"Did what?" Drew asked, playing dumb. Max's expression got even uglier.
"You know exactly what," he hissed from between clenched teeth. "You betrayed my sister. You broke her heart and chased her out of Johto. I want to know why, and I want to know now!" Drew shook his head scornfully.
"I don't have to explain myself to you," he said. "Wait until you grow some stubble on your chin before you even think of having the audacity to interrogate me." He grabbed Flygon's Poke Ball and withdrew his Pokemon, the red beam easily piercing through Gardevoir's Psychic. "I'm out of here," he sneered, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he turned to walk away.
His body froze and his mouth opened in a soundless scream as his entire body was assailed by a fierce burning sensation. His vision turned purple again, although this time it was a darker, more menacing shade. Slowly, against his will, his body turned until he was facing Max once more.
The young trainer ignored Drew and crouched to the ground, watching at his Gardevoir with an expression of slight interest as she held the Coordinator in place.
"Being a Gym Leader's son, I'm privy to some information that you would never find in any textbooks or PokeDex's," he said softly. "For example, did you know that there are actually three variations of the move Psychic? Every trainer knows about Stage-2 - that's the kind used in battle to halt and damage an opponent. You're experiencing it right now. Most trainers know about Stage-1 too, the painless variation that can be used to get fruit from a tall tree… or stop somebody from falling. But almost nobody knows about Stage-3." Here he rose and turned his attention back to Drew, who tried not to wince as the pain wracked his body spasmodically.
"Stage-3 Psychic is a blast of intense pain. It generally takes years of dedication and practice before a Pokemon can use it effectively. Even those who do know about it rarely try and teach it to their Pokemon; it just takes too long for them. But if a Pokemon does learn how to use it…" He paused. "It's strength is equal to that of a Legendary Pokemon's Stage-2 Psychic. It even affects dark-types." He looked for a moment at the setting sun before returning his focus to the helpless Coordinator.
"So tell me, Drew," he said. "Are you prepared to experience Gardevoir's Stage-3 Psychic?"
Ash hugged the limp body of the Coordinator to his chest fiercely, hot tears cascading from his eyes. He was oblivious to the movements and words of his companions, his gaze fixed on the girl he had loved; the girl he loved still, even in death. Oblivious to the heat of the fever that still burned through her clothes, he rocked gently back and forth, unable to accept the fact that she was really gone.
Something clunked gently against his foot. Surprised, he automatically reached down and picked the object up, staring at it uncomprehendingly. He didn't understand why this, of all things, would be here in a Pokemon Centre.
"Char!"
Everyone started at the sound, and as one their eyes sought the source. Standing in the shredded and charred remains of May's knapsack was a small Charmander. It ignored them all, it's gaze fixed sorrowfully on the prone body of May as it moved towards her on somewhat unsteady legs.
"A Charmander?" Rey asked. "Why did May have a Charmander in her bag?"
"Liza gave me an egg that Charla - Charizard's mate - had laid before I battled Cynthia," Ash said softly. "I gave it to May just before we left Pallet Town. I… I guess it must have just hatched."
"Char!" the little Charmander squealed, trying to scrabble it's way onto the bed. Dawn came forwards and gently lifted the newborn onto Ash's lap. The Pokemon hummed, curled itself up comfortably, and reached out to touch May's body with it's snout.
A blinding orange glow cascaded through the room, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. The light was almost unbearable, amplified by the whitewashed walls and colouring every inch of the room in an orange tint. Rising high above the shouts of shock was the sound of the Charmander humming, a long, loud drone that reverberated throughout the room, it's body the source of the light. Slowly, the intensity of the glow faded, although the people and walls were still painted in an orange light.
"No… It's impossible!" Professor Oak shouted from the screen as the light became bearable and he beheld the Charmander. "I-It's impossible!"
"What's impossible?" Rey yelled above the humming.
"What the Charmander is doing!" Brock shouted.
"I don't get it!" she screamed as the Charmander's humming stopped. "There, that's better," she sighed. "Why is what the Charmander doing impossible?"
"There are three criteria for a species of Pokemon to be selected as a starter-type in a region," Professor Oak explained. "It has to be a grass-, water-, or fire-type, have two evolutions, and have one of three abilities. For a fire-type, that ability is always Blaze. But what this Charmander is doing now is not Blaze," he said, gesturing at the still-glowing Pokemon.
"What is it doing then?" Dawn asked.
"It's Flash-Fire," Brock answered.
"Yes, Flash-Fire," Professor Oak agreed. "When a Pokemon has the Flash-Fire ability, it absorbs any fire-type attacks that are targeted at it to power up it's own moves. To be more precise, it absorbs the heat of the fire and makes it's own moves hotter. Because the heat is absorbed, it makes the actual fire-attack useless. A flame with no heat has no power; it's the heat that does the damage in an attack, not the actual flames themselves.
"When a Pokemon has used Flash-Fire, the power of it's attacks will remain the same, but the intensity is increased. And because it's the heat from the fire, and not the fire itself, which activates the ability, Flash-Fire can occasionally be activated without needing a fire-type attack," he concluded. Realization dawned on Rey's and Dawn's faces.
"So… you mean that this Charmander is trying to use Flash-Fire to absorb the heat from May's fever and bring down her temperature?" Rey asked in disbelief.
"Exactly," Professor Oak confirmed. Then his face fell as he looked back at May's body, still held in Ash's arms. Ash himself was still staring at the Charmander with a look of pure astonishment on his face, not having heard a word that the Professor had said.
"But I'm afraid it may be too late," Oak said softly. And that was when they heard a sound that gave them all hope.
Beep…
Beep…
