Part 6: The Flux

Chapter 44: Redactor

Episode TWO: Ulterior

DISCLAIMER: Pokémon does not belong to me!


I became one thing, one feeling at all times that made my legs move, my head spin, my ears lay flat, and my tail drag ceaselessly across the ground. It was the only logical thought I could access, because both sides of me, including the one that died off, knew it was true. I could sit and think for ages about this one thing without ever getting tired of it, because it was a thought. It was the last of its kind. When I tried to feel other things, like a friendly smile or a powerful roar, all I came back to was this one feeling, this fear. It was all I had left. It was an endless cycle and I was trapped in it. Some things pushed the boundaries of where I could think, like the concept of a Red King and a Bell, a prison and an assassin, but all I could do for them was attribute words and nothing else. They were words that only ever left my tongue in a haze of crimson, vitriolic confusion.

Despite it, luck bubbled like a stew and I drank it. Tasted good. Didn't feel good once it got to my stomach, but tasted good.

There was Laura. Only one piece of the one thing that I was cared for Laura. It was my nose, naught more and naught less. I had no urge to save her. I didn't want to like her. I didn't know how to like anybody. The only thing she was to me was a scent, but one in red. The best scents came in that color, so I wanted her by me. I couldn't do it by myself.

There was Cruce, but Cruce was a human. I felt something other than fear for him sometimes. He was human. I had a job that had something to do with humans. I couldn't think of what it was, but it was there, hiding behind that 'one thing' at the forefront of my mind. It was hiding behind my brain. He made me want to push it forward. He had something that could help me bleed all the bad Red away.

Last was unsure. Not lucky, but unsure. Tasted sour. Strange. Familiar, but neutral.

There were the Champions. I felt at my most vulnerable when the thought of the Champions crossed the roads behind my mind. I always saw faces that made me think of them, sad, screaming, angry. I was told that I was one of them, one of those hollow faces, those masks, and it only made the fear worse. Cruce did something about the faces. I put my eyes against his clothes so that I never had to look at anything else again. I wanted to feel like thanking him, but only my facade memory could do that. I couldn't. I was only one thing.

...

I was still going, walking in the dark, and I didn't know why. I didn't know why I was fleeing or feeling sick to my stomach. It wasn't the stench of long forgotten chemicals. It wasn't the belief that I was about to be sucked into the ground. It was a thing that I couldn't remember. I did something to somebody at some point and his or her face scared me when I did it, but that was it. I didn't remember. I never did. I was always running away from things I couldn't remember, and when I came back to them, I did the same thing, and I ran again, each step I took harder on my paw pads than the previous.

Everywhere I looked, it felt like my eyes were closed. I couldn't tell the difference between space and non-space. I just moved until I bumped into walls. My nose became sore after a while, each successive bump hurting more than the last. I heard shifting in the dark, saw shapes attempt to scoot away, and heard fuzzy screeching. The sounds were normal, but the sights weren't. At intervals of some seconds, I heard screams so loud that they made my skull rattle and my heart stop. It was always that way. I used to try and scream over them, but everyone asked me why I was screaming with nobody around. When I replied, I only heard screeches, like I was pretending to speak, only mouthing words. It wasn't that way. I knew I was making noise when I talked, because people talked back to me. They told me there was nothing to be afraid of. They said that I was Flux.

"But I know that already." I told myself. I didn't hear myself speak. I only felt vibrations in my throat and lungs.

I already knew I was Flux. Knowing that I was something like that didn't make the difference between being fixed and being broken. Knowledge and ignorance – nothing mattered to Flux. You could acknowledge something. You could nod or shake your head. If your case was as easygoing as mine was, you might even be able to talk. It was all the same. You were Flux. You were 'one'. One feeling or emotion, and even if you knew that fact, you felt the same way about it as you did everything else.

I did everything that I did because the color Red told me to.

There was a reason I could never hear myself speak. I was an embodiment of action. Of course, actions spoke louder than words.

The screams I heard were deafening.

I bumbled about, putting my belly flat to the ground when I got too sick to move. I put my paws over my ears, flattened them even more, and pressed my chin against the rock until it hurt. It took me away from the scratching of the screeching against my skull.

When I came back to it, I crawled forward, then got up, and kept walking, and I forgot why it was I ever laid down in the first place. Must've been tired. Wasn't sick. Wasn't worried. Kept running until I hit walls.

I set myself down again and did the same thing as before. Nobody was here, but I couldn't know that without seeing anything. It was still better. Blind was still better. Blind was always better, because it worked well with the memory of an inanimate object – something that could only remember sound and color and play them back at speeds animate objects could never interact with. It seemed nice to be nothing – to be a rock or a stick, but I didn't feel myself wanting it, even if I knew it was better. I only felt afraid. Would've been terrified at the premise of being inanimate, but I dreamed of it being a higher plane of existence than this, than the wandering, the running, the screaming, the bloodshot eyes that spoke to me more loudly than thunder over thunder over thunder over thunder.

I forgot why I was here, why I was blind, why I kept falling down. I became trapped in the physical world, so I stopped. Whenever I stopped, I could think, and...

...I thought about Laura again. And Cruce. And the Champions. Nothing comprehensible to anybody, but the thoughts, blurry like ghosts, were still thoughts to be pondered over.

Using rational thought, I knew it was good to be thinking about them. It was a fact, not my opinion or my feelings. It was fact. The fact was separate from the fiction that was the nonstop tearing away at the layers of my fur and skin. Thoughts were always good.

I rolled. I rolled because I wanted to, and that was also good. I wanted it, so that meant I had a feeling spawn somewhere in me. Or did I want to? I couldn't remember why I rolled. I couldn't remember that I rolled. I never rolled. I stayed in the same spot. Why was it so dark in here? Was I in somebody's head?

No, no no no, I rolled again, so that was my doing. I rolled again, then I couldn't roll anymore, because something was in the way. It wasn't rocky or sharp, nor was it very heavy. I could push it if I wanted to, but I couldn't even fathom the idea of fathoming the idea of wanting to. I couldn't help it. I was heavier, and it was squishy, so I rolled into it more. It was cold – no, it wasn't that squishy. It was smooth, and then... there was a hard bit. I was on my back. Did I have a back? I moved my tail around. I had a back if I had a tail. I made a conclusion.

What was I doing?

Something squishy? No, not squishy. It was smooth, and then there was a hard bit when I was on the back that surely existed because I had a tail. What was I doing? Something squishy?

I was rolling, or did I never roll? Somebody screamed, but the scream didn't come from the squishy thing – it came from where it always came from.

I rolled again. Something squishy?

I tried to look, but it was dark. Was I blind? Did I have the capability of being blind? Did I have eyes? I had to have eyes, because I could speak, because my speech didn't make noise. I blinked. Oh. I blinked. I blinked and it got slightly darker. I had eyes. A shape was in front of me now, but it wasn't a rock, if rocks could exist in the same world as me. Someone was here, but that person wasn't moving. I had to get away from them, but that would've been too easy because that person wasn't moving. IF they weren't moving and never intended to, then running really slowly – slower than a rock – would have also been considered running away, and if I was never moving, I was always running away from this person, which meant I could be scared of them, but I could...

...still make progress? I made a conclusion.

I sniffed at the person. Dead? Alive? Both? Smelled like every chemical I knew, even the ones with the brightest colors – Blue and Red. Had something shiny all over its body, sea green, turquoise. Had bright eyes, open. Sleeping? How? No, easy. Too dark for eyes to be closed. Sleeping was easy down here.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. I breathed in its scent. Female? I tasted female. Always female, like it didn't have an opposite sex. It didn't even have a sex. It didn't need one. Oh. Black? White? Black White – the foreigners? Ancients? I didn't remember. It was a vague concept, but there was another 'thing' somewhere that did 'things' like the Flux, but this one had the Red smell. Wi-... wi... wiiisss... Skaah, wiss...

Skywisp? I made another conclusion if I'd ever made one before this moment in time that didn't move forward. Skywisp must have been dead, but death didn't make a difference to life if time wasn't alive to make death live. No one needed to be afraid. Spark? Spark. I sparked. Eyes went open and my ears went tall and I stood higher than ever before. There was no correlation to this and the skywisp, but instead time and fear.

This was so important, I thought. This was the most important thing I'd ever thought of.

"I don't need to run away if..." I stopped. I could hear this speech and it was weird. There were still screeches and screams and shrieks, but they were quiet, at a distance, much further away from my mouth than I was. "Time? Time stopped. Everyone said that time stopped. Up there, on the surface, they said that the sun froze. So... am I okay?"

I looked down again. There was liquid leaving the skywisp's mouth. Must've been drooling. No absence of life then, but the thought remained in my head, or somewhere in my body, and the thought was good, so I kept thinking it. It had to be good if all thoughts were good.

"The skywisp isn't moving, so I'm always running away even if I'm not moving either," I concluded. "I'm always running away from time if I'm perfectly still. Like now. I'm running, and... I can be afraid, but I don't need to run."

I gasped.

"They wanted that! They wanted me to stay still. I remember," I told myself. I went back to the place – not a time, because time didn't move – it was all in my head again – where everyone told me I needed to stop running. "I... I don't have to run, because time isn't chasing anybody right now. I can... stay still, and think! I can think...

...I remember having this thought before – the most important thought I'd ever had. Time stopped, so why would I need to go anywhere if nothing was going to change? I could run away, but everything would be waiting for me, unmoving.

What if I moved for the unmoving? What if I made the change myself, so I never had to be afraid enough to run away in the first place?

Cruce helped me stay still. When he held me, I couldn't ever die so easily, because he was watching over me. Why'd I run from him if he only wanted me to be still? Why'd I run from anyone if I wanted to be still? Why'd I run at all if time was... still?"

I breathed deep and loud.

The skywisp was still. The skywisp would never move again. She was deeper in the walls than any Flux. Deeper in the Red embrace. She saw his name in eyes and reached out, but when she did, the colors didn't mix, and now she was trapped within a maze of mazes, walls made of walls. Inanimate, like I had never wished but wondered upon. Despite what the thought spoke of me, it was still a thought, and all thoughts were at least okay.

I heard a few thumps, felt heavy vibrations against the rocky ground. I considered them to be my heartbeat, but they sounded mechanical, metal grinding against other pieces of itself. I heard the presence of someone else by my side.

Crackling.

Something that sounded like static came from a device not too distant from me. No, it was right next to me. This wasn't screaming or squealing. I was still. I could think. I could sense the world around me. This was actually happening.

A young lady started moaning through a gritty filter and I listened. I wanted it to be Laura, but it wasn't.

"Up... date...

Boiling... in my ears... Pain. HX... Gone... Don't remember... face... voice... Can't... keep living... in this... body... Go... deeper into... sleep... Go away... No more... Up...dates... Can... see in my... head... Want to... stay... Look... all the color... s-... so beautiful... Update... so beautiful. Flying... Flah... fah... ff... ffffly... ..."

With one last weak sigh, the young lady in the invisible machine stopped speaking. The voice was broken apart like long bits and pieces of paper, their torn edges trying so hard to form back together, but the ends never met. Abandonment. Even then, it was serene. The voice wanted to leave its body. Hearing it reminded me of the most important thought I had. I kept hearing the voice and the gentle air of the machine beneath it, sitting on top of it and making it fuzzy. The air continued to pass, but the voice went away. Another ghost? Who...

"Who's that?" I asked.

I asked that question, then came another mechanical thump, this time much closer. I could feel its heat. Somebody was close. I wasn't going to run anymore. I was scared, but I needed to stay still this time.

I sniffed, ozone sinking into me before I really knew why. A fraction of a second passed, then scarlet light poured in every direction. It showed me the size of the cavern. It was narrow, yet tall, like a crevice in the earth, the walls closing inward the higher up the cave went, its bright gray walls reflecting the conflagration of maroon and glossy ochre. Naturally, I had to be looking up, because the source of the light was larger than me. No sooner did I see then having a wide blade set near my face, its ridges scarred with red and silver. The blade was twice my size in length, with perforations, jagged edges, a curve, and... a series of prongs that looked a whole lot like a human hand at the blade's apex.

I took a step back, feeling heat crawl into my fur. The light was fire, and the blade was aflame. I was standing so close to it that I could see my own reflection through red blaze. I had never seen my own face until then, the exact shape of my fear, every curve and contour of my cheeks and my lips and my muzzle, all in that short moment, before the blade was lifted away. Silently, I beheld the one responsible for it. It was a giant – a human, cloaked in steel and embers, his face hidden underneath a shining sheet of metal. While he appeared human, the assault of scents that shot from him like fireworks put me under the impression that there was nothing but a shell of a shadow beneath the suit of steel and thick black leather.

I didn't see any white faces or hear any gut-wrenching screams. The sight of this human machine was enough, but I didn't run. He must have been looking at me through his metallic mask. I couldn't wonder what he was seeing. I could only wonder how to wonder what he was seeing.

I felt my haunches tingle like they wanted to turn away. My calves were itching to move – to make that motion of throwing two legs forward and two legs back, airborne in seconds, for half-seconds. The feelings were like fleas biting into me, but I didn't lick or scratch. I didn't let the urge sweep me away underneath under bush or bed or pile of debris to shake and gnaw on my tail.

I wasn't sure what the mechanical man was doing. Either he was investigating the skywisp's body, or... something else. He moved the massive blade away from me far enough for me to see that it was attached to a pole, which he was holding in one hand, and in the other, a tiny box. His faceless head turned to the box in his palm, then the empty skywisp, all while his weapon lit the cave, hundreds of embers dotting the air above him, flames licking around the blade and casting fickle shadows against the uneven walls.

Another sting, a tearing at the neck and spine. I had to run, but I kept my feet against the ground.

However, something drew me to him, or, maybe not him, but the blade he held. Within the center of it, there was an eye. It was alive and dynamic, twitching, though never looking away from me, and therein lay my courage, because it had something to say in a voice that sounded clearer than any other eye or pair of eyes before it, but with an accent – like it wasn't from the same country or culture of... Gamma.

"Nirvaneon," it said, owning no gender to its voice. "Some say Nirva. Neither are your real name. What is it, Cousin of Starlight?"

The sickle's mechanical thrall faced me, but did not approach or inquire as to why its weapon was interested in my presence. Regardless, I was far too within my right mind to reply in the same language. My tongue and lips, out of caution, spoke for me, in place of my eyes.

"Cousin? 'Cousin'..." I repeated, flicking my ears high. "What does that mean? I don't know you."

"We are fated blood. The laws governing every atom responsible for our being deem it so. As we are, I would enjoy the privilege of your real name – perhaps not that, but who you are."

"Who I am..." I whispered. I wasn't looking at the blade, but the ground beneath it, marveling at how clear every picture and word was inside of my head. I had ideas, responses, memories. Surely that had something to do with the question. "N-... Nirva. Because I... I'm Nirvaneon."

"You misunderstand," the weapon's eye told me, voice like smoke choking my thoughts. "Though, if it is not patronizing, I must endow you with some prestige among my brothers and sisters, for you are the first of my Cousins of Starlight to acknowledge this voice, one of few factors that prevent I or my wielder from dismissing you with aggression, as you are of foreign Gamma.

No, you are not Nirva. You are not Nirvaneon."

"You... How can you be sure? Aren't I Laza's...?" I whimpered, the roof of my mouth sore after speaking the name Laza. I never wanted to touch on the topic ever since he abandoned me. I never had the ability to. It was... something I appreciated about myself. My Flux.

"You are not. Laza should mean nothing to you, but that is not how the story was told." the voice stopped. It left me with a moment to consider its words. Now that I stayed my ground, I could do that. I could consider what was said, instead of run from every mumble.

The next time I looked back up, the sickle and its owner had moved away, the humanoid looking the other direction. The light from its weapon became dim. Flames still bounced shadows about the walls.

"Yes, consider it," I heard the foreign Gamma speak, though muffled, as it was no longer looking at me. "Consider how our paths crossed, how I know of you, yet you know nothing of me. It is your battle with Red, just as it was this skywisp's."

Another thing to consider, I concluded, was the skywisp that the mech human stopped by. I found her body once more, the scales shining in the dying light. Her eyes were wide and loud, full of more vigor than the remainder of her body.

"If, by the next time we encounter one another, you do not know your name," the weapon paused, giving the mech a chance to face me one final time, embers at last lighting up the mask to give me a glimpse of the hollow shell within. I saw pale cheeks and deep black holes for eyes. "We will take everything you have left, and leave nothing but a scorch mark."

A pillar of flame tore through the crevice. I was blinded. The light and heat reached into my eye sockets and pressed.

With the tower of swirling red fire came a discordant screech unlike those I'd heard before in that this one was real. I heard it even through proper ears that led to a stationary mind. When the flames parted and left me in blackness once again, I felt nothing close by. The humanoid and the weapon had left me to the dark, where I could wonder over an enigma until my fear forced me to forget everything again and run, and hide, and stay. It was a matter of time.

But, if there was no time, then I could have this forever. I could be okay and wonder about these things until I died. I wouldn't be comfortable doing it, and I wouldn't have much to look forward to, but at least I could do it at all. I...

...

...

"Uh..." I groaned, resting against my back legs until I leaned into a full sit. The spots behind my eyes were still stinging, and I could still smell the ozone. Lucky for me, I didn't need to breathe oxygen as reliably as the local life forms, so the fire didn't bother me too much. But, dang, my head was minutes short of bursting. Again, good thing we didn't need to worry about the idea of 'time' all that much. "Laza...? That's not...

That's not my brother's name. Is it? I don't... think I... remember.

He said he wanted to change the world, and he couldn't do it without my help."

Some time ago, I thought. Some time ago, those two girls – Secany and Rayse, they called me 'Vay'. I didn't understand what it meant at the time, but if I went back now and asked them, they could tell me.

Vay's a name, so there's a chance that's my real name.

I think there's someone named Danithan somewhere, too. Somewhere inside of me. I can only remember that, and I'm no closer to figuring out which one's the real one. Well, fifty-fifty chance. Otherwise, I might get melted.

I'm not even scared. I forgot why I was ever scared. My Flux – it's... it's backwards. It's all wrong. I know I'm still not okay, because I should be afraid of what I just saw. Anyone should.

"That's... doing me a concern," I mumbled, standing and stretching my back. My joints were relaxed. My muscles were sore, but I could get by. I was still tiny – still an eevee. Needed to get that checked. I wasn't an eevee before, and then even before that, I wasn't whatever I was before an eevee, and then... some time ago again, I had to be human. "Sheesh, how did I get here?"

I blinked, and I remembered having the thought that it was too dark to tell whether or not my eyes were open or closed. A memory in Flux.

"Am I still Flux?" I asked myself. No, I didn't feel Fluxy anymore, if it was a feeling. I could see some Red washing away – could taste it on the gums, even. Pretty metallic. There was a word for this sort of, uh, phenomenon – getting your crap sorted after being Flux. I wanted to call it 'awakened', since it felt like waking up from a nap, but that wasn't it. And, to coat it off, I didn't have any way of knowing whether or not I was 'awake' at all, or in a dream, like...

...like this skywisp, where everything was probably better.

I thought, actually, about the people whose names should've meant more to me than my heart was telling me. Secany and Rayse – they would've told me that my 'bad state of mind' was more of a phase, like a part in a play, and getting through it was all just a big... intermission.

I gotta know if I'm okay. I gotta find somebody, and, if I run away from them, I'm still bad. But if I can stand there and listen to 'em, maybe that's a step forward. I don't know what I did to break away from all that Red. Maybe I owe it to the skywisp, or that sickle.

Either way, Black Gamma was involved.

I better go meet up with Cruce.

Arceus help me, 'cause I had no clue what I was gonna do with that. I found myself touching a cave wall with my wet nose, then wandered off to the left, slowly moving along, stepping over rocks wherever they came up. Sight was out of the question. I had to play by scent and sound. I wasn't a stranger to it, but it would'a been nice to see when I was about to take a wrong turn. Whatever. Cruce wasn't in it any better than me, and he was human. Bad luck for him.

Why did I care about him again...? Well, meh. Humans needed somebody to take care of 'em, right? What better choice than me?

10 November 2024, Laura Deitch Observation, Retrieval,

This is the EGL Research Team, reporting at the time of Laura Deitch's arrival. A great majority of us were assigned to the Cryhex and Death Knell's experiments, so we'll save time instead of performing a headcount. We're missing Doctor O'Brien, and instead we have Chevron supervising us. He said that he'll be "in-and-out" with this one, since he's double-timing experiments. Considering the progress made on past projects, we'll be more than capable on our own if it comes to that.

Subject Laura Deitch is known as a "floette", number six-seventy on what is labeled as the national Pokédex. I cannot believe we're still using that as an official guide for these things, but it's the only pre-established system there is, so I'm not shoving any complaints forward. Subject doesn't appear to match the standard floette. The green portion of her body is deep red, with black markings underneath the eyes. These markings are from fluids composed of the same saline solution as the sap from her broken stem that Chevron secured separately. Both of these fluids have similarities to human tears.

Right now, Laura refuses to speak. She just whimpers and cries. There's something very different about this one. With the few tear-marked Pokémon that've shown up before her, we've not yet seen one that gives off these readings on our equipment. The scanners are calibrated appropriately, to about the same hexadecimal elecromagnetic fields as the ones used on Subject Alpha Drew Maire. As with most tear-marked EGL victims, brainwave activity is stunted in spots; though, hers does this to a greater degree. The raw data is immeasurable in two particular area: the prefrontal cortex and the thalamus, though, as Pokémon's brain shapes differ, we're still conducting scans on our quarantined human control group. We've also taken note that Laura's dopamine and serotonin productions are increased to absurd levels. Physical acquisition of this data is better described in the written logs.

Retiring the EGL Team for today. Doctor Maverick says that he feels ill. We're uncertain if this is due to his recent transformation to a "mawile"or his exposure to the subject.

11 November 2024, Laura Deitch Observation, Second Team Gathering,

This is Chevron.

Everyone's doing their part. People are tired, and I don't blame 'em, but just wait 'till they hear what's happened up above. Shit me, that went to hell fast. We'll try not to leak out too much info through the rest of the Deep. Morale's important, I hear, so we'll keep numbering these in accordance to days gone by, even though, well, days don't seem all that eager to pass. Red sun don't look to great over on the horizon there. I'll get some pictures and show it to Kaiser. He might want us to check it out.

But, right now, we have the creator of the Nile River to worry about. Seriously, that girl's gonna flood the underground with her tears. Shit's annoying – she won't shut up, and I'm not actually allowed to hurt this one, since it's an "observation". Boo-hoo, boo-hoo, right? Our boys got some things done with her though. Got a good look at the brain and confirmed that spike of activity in the prefrontal cortex. She's locked in that – like, uh, Maxi-boy and Drew. We're putting it out there that these things are alike – the comatose victims and our tear-jerker subject. They're alike, but EEGs aren't reading the same way. We get static a lot of the time, even on machines without any visual system. Half of our equipment that can "produce" any sound short-circuits and fuzzes up with radio static, and the stuff with screens – fuzz again. Whatever Miss Mopey Deitch has inside of her is serious shit, guys. EGL or EGS, none of it's ever made our technicians look at the machinery and scratch their heads.

I can't stay with the boys too long when I have the fun stuff waiting for me downstairs. A lot of our human guinea pigs – sorry, said it again, didn't I? – are giving me some cold looks. Aww, they don't like someone smaller than them in charge. Real cute.

Nothing too new, Mopey's not looking great. She got some belly on her since I last saw her. Maybe I just didn't notice it. Hey, send someone down for Maverick, too, if you haven't already cued that up. His tummy's upset, and it's loud enough in here with one bellyacher. Don't need two.

...

12 November 2024, Laura Deitch Observation, Third Team Gathering,

Chevron again.

I don't have time for this dog shit, so I'll make it snappy. If there're any on-site drama problems, don't come to me with it, because I don't solve things that look like a bureaucratic shitstorm. For real, HX needs to shut up, sit down, and ignore the screaming and dying outside. We have enough of that in here, and we're the ones causing half of it. Look, we get our stuff done without all the bitching and the hiding behind desks with stacks of papers or other people's backs – I mean, if they're any bigger than you. This isn't how it works. And, unless you're ME, or someone else with BACKBONE, you can at least stay indoors with a coffee, a computer, and a half-open body behind you full of morphine.

Ugh, at least Laura's interesting. EGL Team's doing a fine job with her, too. 'Cept Maverick. He went off somewhere and hasn't come back. I'll go find him after this and sort him out. Y'know, normally, I'd be funny and say, 'Oh, I'll go easy on him. Maybe just one gunshot through the shoulder, or I can pull a couple teeth out of that gross-ass alligator mouth behind him'. I'm... actually thinkin' there's something wrong with 'im. I ain't no angel, so I'm not above a good bash over the head, but Maverick's not usually a complainer, and we know Laura's got some big bad Gamma bug inside of her.

She's mutating, too. Should'a mentioned that first.

She's got these sharp legs now, black chitin and all, sticking down from her waist. The tail's swollen up. Looks like a spider's abdomen. That's where these legs are coming from. Maybe within the next ten or twenty hours, we'll have a different Pokémon in here. She's still sobbing like nothing's changed. When I asked her about what was going on with her body, she gave me this look like she knew it all and didn't care. It wasn't WHY she was sad, per se. Don't know. This one's a headache, but it's the kind of headache that we need around here. Keeps us busy. I like it.

Maybe it's just something about seeing her face get all screwed up with those mandibles sticking out of her jaw, or maybe it's the spine protrusions along her back, but I like this. This... transformation. It makes me think we're dealing with something more serious than Pokémon.

Unspecified Time, Laura Deitch Observation, Fourth Team Gathering,

It's Chevron here. Uh, so we got this problem, see...

Maverick's been doing some work lately on, well, mutating. Keeps talking about "walls" and the sounds of eyeballs. Wouldn't ya know it, the guy's gone and torn both of his arms off with his giant maw thing in an attempt to free himself. He did this sickly laugh all the way through it, like he was overjoyed. I'd seen some shit before, and this was... you know... more shit! Just, when it happens to our top scientists, it's a little more concerning. We had Maverick isolated, then he went and grew gross tentacle arms out of his wounds, a giant tongue with claws out of his maw, and I had to put him to sleep myself. Shook up the lab a little, but everyone's alright.

So! That's what we're dealing with nowadays. Any of my EGL Team Pokémon scientists are too scared to get involved with Laura anymore, but I'm holding fast. She looks great, too. Eight-legged masterpiece. Just about every part of her body can kill you in seven different ways – we could use this. This could be another Flicker, except I don't hear her talking anything up about running away and pretending to be the civs' friends. Laura here can still communicate with me, even if her mouth is nearly all fang. She chooses to speak only with me now, and just cries whenever she sees anyone else. Makes me blush, heheh.

Might'a figured out why that is. It goes back to the dopamine. See, her body actually produces fuck-tons of it when she's feeling down, and, whaddya goddamn know, she's always down! The dopamine makes her feel good, but then the serotonin makes her hurt, but then, again, the dopamine – it's a big cycle, and I play a part in it. I give her the most... pain. Sadness. And she loves it. She says that it keeps her "right where she should be". What does this say for the tear-marked victims? Well, whatever you can do to accelerate their condition, they'll try and reward you for it with loyalty. It may have been one of the reasons CR-HX5 never questioned Sam in early development. CR was programmed – and yeah, it was a machine, but there had to be more to it than what we saw on charts and graphs, especially after injecting it with a bit of that Vienna girl's melted body.

Reminds me to get back to my personal experiment. I'm still using Jirachi and Willow's test chamber for it. I'll have 'em all liquefied pretty soon. I've been waiting to do this for such a long, long time, and, honestly, things couldn't be going much better.

I'm going to take Laura into the Down today. Got in contact with an old friend. Gonna tie up some loose ends, make amends... Code Five One until I get back. Keep it steady, and keep Maverick alive.

Laura Deitch Update,

It's Chevron.

What the fucking... What happened to Code Five One?! I let EVERYONE know I was going out for a while, then I come back and half of the Deep facility is GONE because you lazy fuckers can't be asked pull your weight when it needs to be done! I can take one of our subjects out into hostile territory, come back with her and I BOTH unscathed, yet I can't leave you jack-offs alone for a SECOND without the entire fucking facility going on high alert and sucking shit out their baby bottles while billions of dollars worth of research equipment and data go to complete waste.

A breath of silence came and went, before a painfully loud sigh blew into the receiver, scratching the quality of the recording.

So it was Maverick. That's what I was told. We lost Winston's experiment, so he won't shut his slimy hole about that. Also lost Del Cruz. Bet if I was still out there, we could meet up, but I had my own little run-in with problems. There are some more of the tear-marked EGL victims down there. Lots of them. Let 'em know who's in charge, because that's just what I do, 'n plus, that airhead shitbag Foster is with them and he's got that... Cross. No one under him is safe, like Maverick's. That's not even all of it. As much I disagree with Sam's intentions, she had a point about something: we got some... ghosts to worry about.

Regarding Laura, I think her mutation's almost come to full fruition. She's big and beautiful and... well, what more could a man like me want? A nice big spider pet to solve problems where I can't? Sounds good to me. Lemme get something straight here: I found her, so she's mine, and clearly no one else has earned the privilege. And, I know, calling our subjects pets doesn't make us look too good. Well, I'm the type of guy that grows more attached to pets than he does people, so being considered a pet is a lot better than being a person. It probably puts her higher than some of the staff here. Shit, I know that for a fact.

I'll be giving Laura a wash. Getting all that blood off of her. After that, I'll bring her up and check out the status of the Deep.

Laura Deitch Final Update,

It's about that time again. Looks like I can wrap this one up. Sorry, by the way – Uh, Chevron here again. I've about taken full reigns of this thing 'cause the EGL Team's split up and they're taking care of some of my liquefaction projects. That experiment's swimming along – no pun intended. We've already got a test tube full of liquid person 'n we're gonna find a candidate for injection, though I think Kaiser's been having his eyes one somebody for a while. He won't tell me. Guy's full of secrets, even for a secret organization. Anyway, we got the lady, now we need her husband. Distilling the stuff, once fully liquefied, is a satisfying thing to do. Barely any work at all. Gamma just eats people and purifies itself. So, once we get those two sorted for good, we can get it nice and tucked into a syringe. Kaiser wants to call it Agent Eagle.

But, this recording is for my sweet 'n spiky Laura. She's not changed much since the last recording. Well, she's got another pair of eyes to cry out of, but good for her! She tells me that it feels better, and that it's easier to speak. Shrugged it off and gave her a few pats telling her she's been such a good girl. No joke. I'm proud of her, even if she can only sob and moan and her mental capacity's none too high, but she's done lots of favors. I respect that. See? Even a broken, barely sapient being can do the job better than some of the cock-suckers here. Now that Laura and I are best buds, I can probably get back to training the other girlies. They're doing okay. That Jirachi's really surprising me lately, but Willow's obnoxious and natty. Kaiser doesn't want me hurting her. Too bad. She really squeals like a pig when I spray her with water.

Last up: Jack-Ki. We found two EGL victims up there in their place. Del Cruz held onto her recording equipment, so we got nothing to go off of other than some fried written records. The computers were bashed to hell and back, so no-go on them either. Couldn't find Maverick in the facility, and with the level of destruction I saw up there, it wasn't just him. Someone came with him, or maybe he was chasing somebody. I don't know. Surveillance doesn't tell me the story either. The whole thing reminds me of my purge.

Winston's pissy, but he's agreed to look after Jack and Kieran again. We won't know for sure if it's them until they wake up. They're not THAT dead, after all. Good on 'em. Coming back from the dead. Been there, done that. Almost going out of style, if you ask me, but whatever. We need more vitality like that.

Kaiser wanted to talk to me about what I found in the Down. Said something about sending Death Knell down there, 'n called those EGL victims... heretics. I shouldn't be surprised by this point, but that man spits out some weird things. 'Guess you gotta be some bolts loose of sane to run this joint.

That's enough for one audio file. All right, this is Chevron, concluding the Laura Deitch Observation.

...

End of Recordings

The muffled sounds of humming. I couldn't see. The whole world was presented to me only as the darkest shades of gray.

"Hmmm... Hmm hmmmm...~"

"Hmmmhmhmmm...~"

"Maxi... :3"

The shades, freely flowing into one another, developed an order, coming together briefly to form a ball of brighter gray against a plain black background.

"You're a REAL human, aren't ya? You don't 'turn', so easily. That's great! x3"

The grays achieved another echelon of order. Now, what they had formed was very vaguely shaped like something that might be considered a creature. It had a long, pointy nose, a round head, and a slender body with two tiny legs. That was it, though. There were too few features to call it anything other than a shape of shades.

"I once heard a bad-bad say that no one is strong enough to fight Gamma. It's not about winning, he said! It's about lasting, 'cause you gonna change no matter what. If you can think, you can change, and... Gamma 'thinks' that you should 'change'!"

Around where I imagined eyes would go in the shape of shades came two crimson gleams, but only for a second.

The entire space began to open up in strands of dim light, contrasting violently with the black. It appeared to rip apart as though two giant hands had their fingers interlaced, only to separate. The further apart the fingers grew, the more they shrank, and the gray shape sank away into the shades behind it, only a passing memory. I took a deep breath, then felt my lungs give, the liquid feeling climbing my through and goading out a wet cough. I threw a hand onto my chest and wheezed. I panicked. A tear crawled down my cheek as I choked. Instinctively, I breathed through my nose while my body attempted to fix the problem without much of my consent, and all I could do was listen to Squiggles spout cheerful nonsense from behind, her voice echoing slightly. I closed my eyes.

"Squiggles wanna prove the bad-bad wrong! You can do that for me, 'a-cause you're still human!"

I put a hand to the back of my head and another over my eyes, the bad air (for the most part) cleared out of my lungs, making them just a little bit more operational for the time. My chest was sore, my nose hot, the space behind my eyeballs even hotter, and I had no clue why. They didn't feel this way before Squiggles got ahold of me, or... whatever the thing she did was. I had to guess she brought me here.

I gasped when I noticed I could actually move, even having moved before the realization. I pulled my hand away from my eyes and saw two particularly worrying black marks on it, spaced about as far apart as my eyes were. I traced over them with a finger. They warped and faded like liquid against the skin. This... came out of my eyes.

"Squiggles wanna prove EVERYBODY wrong! But I can't do it myself, 'cause uuuuh, I don't like the bright-brights too much – makes me all itchy. Ew! "

"Squiggles...?" I plainly said, lost in my own gaze.

"Huh? A-nuuu, you gotta say it like... uh? : O" she paused. I didn't need to assume she was speaking in my direction (which was hard enough when her voice was so oddly received – all around me). She had moved up next to me, leaning her head forward and looking up at me in such a way that would've been impossible if she actually had vertebrae.

I showed her my hand.

"Oh... :|" she said, her kiddish temperament shut off like she'd flipped a switch for it.

"Why is this here...?" I groaned at her, my voice creaking. It was all that came out of my mouth. It was so... limited. It was such a claustrophobic thing to say, or, at least, it felt that way. Wouldn't I have said something else – something more... humorous? Was I not in the mood. Being in a bad mood felt different than this. I felt squeezed... Squiggles must've done something to me.

She backed away and looked on to the building off some thirty or forty meters ahead. If she wasn't going to answer me, then I probably shouldn't have bothered. It went without saying that, despite my new little detriment, the new scenery left me with awe. There was a large shift from gray rock to dirty brown stone and soil, though I was still far underground. There were lights set up a lot like how they were by the church, some generators running, lamps and floodlights shining down on linear paths. There were lots of them this time around, and they were all placed around the perimeter of giant dome with big pipes coming out of it. The pipes went up to God-knows-where – I couldn't see that far up. Nothing but blackness with little specks of orange lighting up straight-edged shapes in the distance.

It looked like there was a lift here, set to ascend or descend at a diagonal. Above that, I could see where the sediment and rock met man-made structures, beams of white lighting up squared-off areas of the cave with black and yellow hash-marks. 'Caution: dangerous area everywhere', it implied. A lot of the segmented pipes from this big dome thing went up to that area – the destination of the lift. Or, maybe it was the start and this was the destination. Either way, big. Big place.

There were oversized, bold numbers written all over the dome, specifying some kind of system of importance. It occurred to me that this belonged to somebody. Maybe I was a little late on the uptake, but where did this facility come from? I thought back to LARS and figured that was the extent of the sci-fi. 'Guess I was wrong. It could've been a modern-age mining point. There was machinery around, like forklifts, bulldozers and those huge excavators with the circular saw mounted on the single arm. They were just here though. No one was in them.

I soaked in all in and had myself another thought. This must've been right under Autumnridge, but it certainly wasn't anything I'd ever seen in town. I wasn't feeling motivated, what with the poor air quality, sappy tears making my eyelids feel heavy, and the idea of having lost Nirva, but there was Squiggles. I'd been trusted to do... something... with a ghost girl that could very well be the culprit behind Allen's Fluxes going missing. All that, coupled with the scale of this place, made me feel a lot less significant than I thought I was. I felt so...

...weak.

"Holy crap, Squiggles, what... So, wh-what do you want me to do?" I asked her, moving my legs behind me and getting up to an uncomfortable crouch.

"Err... :c" she paused. "Mmmmaybe Squiggles need a-different person after all..."

"A different person? What do you mean?"

"I need a human!" she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah," I nodded, standing up and looking down at the feet that got me here, cased up in the shoes that'd been worn down for years of... neglecting fashion. I was still me. Still human. Even without eyes, Squiggles gave me the impression that she should've known that. "Soooo... what do you want me to do?"

"Mmmph! Butt-stuff! :C I got so close, too!" said the girl, one of her dark tendrils forming out beneath her fabric and slamming the ground with its fist. The impact was great enough for the vibrations to shake me all the way up to my weakened chest.

"I don't... Uh, like, what was it you wanted to do? Prove somebody wrong?" I inquired. Sort of didn't want her getting too mad. Never mind that she was saying I wasn't human. That was unnerving enough.

"Ermmmaybe it'll still work. You wanna go over there, Maxi?" she asked, her optimism battling with a fickle pessimism. The same black hand that struck the ground pointed ahead at the lit dome.

I looked on ahead again. I had the feeling I needed to play it quiet if I wanted to get to this building. Squiggles was determined on how she felt about someone in there. Maybe Nirva got lost and found his way here. That was my motivation. I aimed for it. Squiggles and I both had our goals.

"I don't know what you're sending me into. How about you lead?" I requested.

"Nuuuu, it's so bright there. D:" she complained.

"How're you gonna know what happens if you don't come with me?" I looked down at her, her floppy head stuck at its weird, eerie angle.

"That's squeeeasy! I can do things the Squiggles way! All I gotta do is find a dark place to get comfy, then I... ummm, nono, I can't tell you how I do it. You have too much... alive-ness! :3"

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I lied, with a sigh following. So, straight to danger's mouth, I thought to myself. "If I have any less of that by the end of this, you can tell me your 'Squiggles way' then. How 'bout it?"

"Ooh...? I... O-okay... yeah, :c" Squiggles brooded. She couldn't decide on how she wanted to feel at any given time. In one moment, she was mindlessly happy, and then the next, she was punching a hole into the ground. I'd never seen her mope though. It was almost worse than that flash of anger. Was it something I said? I'd been trying to avoid that.

She was way stronger than me, and knowing I had to take the lead for her didn't calm the pain in my stomach. Though, there was something nice about knowing I had a little ghost child watching over me while I did this. I could've gone with some way of talking to her while I went in there so we could keep in touch, but hey, maybe that was part of the Squiggles way, too. There was a lot I didn't know about her.

I went on ahead, blinking away the thought of what she'd told me as a result of my black tears. Instead, I thought of Nirva, balled my fists once, twice, thrice – just to stretch them out and wake them up, and I walked with a cold shiver dancing on my shoulders and a very, very interesting kid peering over from behind them.

Y'know, the world's been full of these kinds of kids lately.

It didn't feel good knowing they had to grow up here.

It felt worse knowing they were my neighbors before all this.

And worse again that I was

going to become just like them.

…and again...

...Unless I already am.

"Come on, Cruce... Cruuuuuuce!"

I thought over the noise coming out of my mouth.

"Where the heck did you go? You couldn't have gone far! Ugh, why am I looking for this guy...?"

It sounded more like the noise inside of my head.

"I'll... keep looking. He's got the Bell, so I have'ta try. That's it. That's all I need from him! So much trouble just for that stupid Bell."

It meant I could make whatever noise I really wanted to, and other people could hear it. It wouldn't be trapped inside the walls anymore.

"I get the Bell, and then I'll... I'll do 'im a favor and...

...I'll give him a brand new Pokémon body. That should set us even!"

I could... be what I wanted to be, just like how my brother told me that this whole WORLD could be what we wanted it to be...

...but it didn't turn out like that. I don't think it ever became the world we wanted, because...

y stopped us,

and made us look like the bad guys.

"Maybe I shouldn't leave you alone after then. You make friends like an epidemic, and I think that gets Brother every time."

It's all coming back to me. I'm not a husk. I'm not afraid. I'm not a Flux.