Chapter V: Begotten
Brisk was the saltwater breeze at dawn. It calmed the boy's boiled temper. This was the first time his mind could relax since the blast. He dreamt of oceans, palm trees and a fresh coconut beverage – something out of a travel ad. He had never been on vacation. Greatness demanded commitment. Therefore vacations were nothing except dreams on imaginary canvas to him. Cinnabar hinted such a dream could soon exist, but Damion had heard differently.
Over time its sandy mass had been gradually swallowed by once-friendly waves, thanks to a wayward volcanic eruption. For months Blaine stood by his lonesome atop the sole slab of land that remained of his treasured island town. He headed a petition to rebuild Cinnabar with man-made soil and sand. His wish was granted. Luckily for Blaine, Pokémon Gyms attracted enough tourist cash to benefit the powers that be.
The work-in-progress isle was the ferry's next stop. Damion's thoughts were not relaxed for long. A flashback of accepting to help his nemesis jarred him awake. He wiped sweat from his brow. Breathing deeply, Damion searched his mind for the voice of his mother. Her words always steered him straight. Yet nothing amassed. He focused not on the blackness that was his eyelids, but rather looked through it.
A faint whisper manifested from the dark. "Hey you," said a smoky, feminine voice. Damion opened his eyes and looked to his right.
"Is this seat taken?" she inquired.
"Not at all," he replied. She measured about the height of an average man. Her auburn hair was long and ponytailed. Thick black stockings led up to her white-flowered skirt. Her hazel eyes fixed sweetly. Glossy, half-full lips conveyed her curiosity.
"I've never seen you on this ferry before," she noted. He had no idea what to say. "Good morning! My name is Skylar. I couldn't help but notice you were having trouble falling asleep." Damion gave his head a sheepish scratch before answering.
"I… have a lot on my mind."
"I can see that," she remarked. "Do you want to talk about it?" Although those hazel eyes held a rare security, Damion could not surrender his burdens. Skylar understood his reservation and asked for his name instead.
"I am Damion," he said. "Damion Harrison."
"It's nice to meet you, Damion! I like your hair; it's pretty unique."
"Thanks. My mother always said it fit me."
"Well, she was right. Aw, I'm sure she's a cutie! Do you have any pictures?"
"I do back in Blackthorn."
"Oh, so you're from Johto. What about on your phone, do you have any pictures on there?"
"I don't have a phone."
"Whaaat? No way. Why not?"
"Because I believe distractions impede success."
"Phones don't have to be a distraction. They're a great way to communicate with the people you love. How else do you keep in touch with your mom?"
"I don't."
"Gee, I was wrong about you."
"No, you don't get it. I can't."
"You can't keep in touch with your parents?"
"They're gone. They passed away when I was a boy."
"Both of them?! Wow, I'm sorry! Forget I ever asked."
". . ."
"Hm! What about movies? Have you ever seen 'Battle for Nebulon'?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Whaaat? You haven't seen any of the 'Battle for Nebulon' films?"
"I'm not much of a moviegoer."
"That's a shame! We'll have to go to one together some time."
"Yeah, maybe."
". . ."
"Uh, I like your hat."
"Are you just saying that to change the subject, or do you really like it?"
"No, I really do like it. I would've said something earlier, but I'm just now noticing its symbol."
"Thanks! That's a Master Ball, by the way. I hope to win one someday. And! It's made out of black velvet. Feel how soft it is."
"Oh, wow. That is softer than soft; that's plush. Where did you get this?"
"My dad got it for me. It's one of the most expensive hats on the market."
"Oh?"
"Yep. Remember that movie I asked you about earlier? My last name is Lukas; my dad is a famous filmmaker. He directed all six Nebulons, along with some others like 'Diana Jones:' the greatest treasure hunter in the world!"
"The greatest treasure hunter in the world is a woman?"
"Why wouldn't she be? You'd be surprised what we can accomplish with a whip and tight shorts."
She garnished her comment with a wink. Damion laughed with joy; it had eluded him for months. The Trainer was drawn to her distinctive charm, keeping the conversation active.
"What did you mean before," he probed, "when you said you were wrong about me?"
"Um… oh! Well, when I thought you didn't like talking to your parents, it made me rethink your cuteness."
"So you think I'm cute?"
"Yeah – in a haven't-slept-in-days kind of way."
A grin spilled from his lips. The newly acquainted pals shared a couple more moments.
"Say," she speculated, "you wouldn't happen to have another one of those lollipops, would you?"
"I do, actually," he answered, retrieving his remaining candy from his outer vest pocket.
"Whoa," she observed, "what flavor is that supposed to be?"
"Honestly, I don't know," said Damion. "I guess it's a mystery flavor type thing." He peeled the plastic off the lollipop and handed it to Skylar.
"Hey, what if I wanted to do that?" she asked.
"Oh, my bad. I was just being polite."
"I'm kidding you!" she replied. This was not quite a joke as she loved opening gifts. However, his action did not honestly bother her.
She took her first lick of the peculiar sucker. Her face wrinkled in disgust as she spat the flavoring out. The candy core broke away from its handle and rolled onto the floor.
"What's the big idea?" she exclaimed. "This tastes like paint!"
"Oh, man, I'm sorry! I can explain!" Skylar wiped her mouth and crossed her arms.
"See, I got these from a wicked old man," the Trainer began. "The one I had tasted just fine. I-I-I don't know what's up with this other one. Please forgive me! Here, suck on this Revival Herb. It should take the edge off."
Damion rummaged through his Bag. The perturbed girl accepted his solution with reluctance. He reached for the detached candy to dispose of it. Upon touching the sphere, it grew to the size of a Poké Ball.
The ferry came to a halt, as did their cheery teenage momentum. He held the sphere to his nose. She was right. He detected a faint scent of spray paint upon thorough inspection. Three passengers filed out of the boat's exit. She tried prying information out of the boy, but his mind was preoccupied. He spotted a shady man remove an envelope from under his seat before departing. Damion placed the painted ball in his Bag and addressed Skylar.
"Once again, I apologize for the lollipop incident. I want to make it up to you. But right now, I can't. I must follow that suspicious man."
"What suspicious man?"
"I gotta go."
"Hey, wait! Damion!"
Skylar watched as Damion began his hot pursuit. Of all the mornings she took advantage of her father's privileges, this encounter with a young mysterious Trainer differed from the rest. She followed him outside to Cinnabar's boardwalk. His words resonated into the town's emptiness.
"Yeah, you! I said: Stop right there!" the boy shouted.
"Please, please," the shady man replied. "It's way too early for your childish whining."
"Tell me, what is your business here on Cinnabar?" The man's eyes narrowed.
"I am simply here to challenge the Cinnabar Gym," he answered.
"What about that envelope in your pocket?" Damion questioned. "What's inside?" Slipping a hand into said pocket, the man retorted.
"From the looks of it, you aren't the police. Which means: I don't have to answer to a twerp like you. Get your girlfriend and leave me alone!"
"My girlfriend?" The Trainer turned to look behind him. Skylar waved awkwardly. Terror soon developed across her face. Smoke pellets erupted at their feet. The vapors stung their eyes, impairing their vision temporarily. Bamboozled, Damion fumed with malevolence. He started to chase after the man, though Skylar pulled him back. He rejected her action.
"Skylar, please! I don't have time for this."
"What is going on? Why are you so angry?"
"At the moment, I don't know what's going on. But I intend to find out. I need to interrogate that man. You are keeping me from my duty."
"Duty, interrogate. . . Who are you exactly?"
"I am a man on a mission with no time for interviews. I must go."
"We must go. That smoke hit me too, remember? I saw that slime using the contents of the envelope to get into Cinnabar Gym. Let's go get 'im."
The duo sprinted for the Gym's doors. It rested alone on the east side of town. The island, still being constructed, consisted only of a Gym, a Pokémon Center and a dormant volcanic crater. The mansion Giovanni spoke of must have been destroyed.
Cinnabar Gym was sleek and new. Its roof was a singular slanted solar panel. Its surrounding walls were layered with orange-red bricks; a fiery yellow accent spread between each block. Damion pulled at the Gym door's handle to no avail.
"Locked?" he said in confusion. "What kind of Leader keeps his Gym doors locked?"
"One who takes his privacy seriously," she countered.
Meanwhile, the shifty culprit bested Blaine's assistants one by one – some by tricks, others by force. Frankly, Blaine's aides were in need of some valuable training. He sent inquiries for new deputies in the wake of the eruption. His previous ones split, looking for a new Gym Leader to assist – one who wasn't so crabby and dismissive.
The man of mystery locked Blaine's sixth and final junior Trainer in a chokehold. He forced the frightened teenager into gaining access to Blaine's battle room, for only he and Blaine knew the code. The goon was joined by his powerful Rhydon: a creature so resilient its hide protects it from even the most scorching temperatures. Its bipedal frame meant the Drill Pokémon could mimic the man's strangling grip. It behaved as volatilely as its Trainer did, spinning the excavation horn atop its snout to further intimidate their ransom.
All the noise prior to the culprit's intrusion of his room did not faze Blaine. Once discovered, his back faced the man and his Rock-type Pokémon. He read an open journal on his corner desk and sipped a cup of piping hot tea. The goon stated his intentions.
"You know why I'm here, old man. You know who sent me."
". . ."
"Hand over the lab journals before your little flunky's oxygen level hits rock bottom."
"Threatening that boy's life is a foolish strategy. I just learned his name a week ago. He is hardly a viable bargaining chip."
"Is that right, gramps? So the stories are true."
"To which stories are you referring?"
"You used to be one of us. You were our greatest scientific ally."
"That was back when I was hungry for power more than discovery. All of that has changed."
"You went soft on us, Blaine. You're a disgrace to the great name of Team Rocket."
"I don't believe it – you're even duller than you look."
"That's it, I'll show you! Kangaskhan, teach this geezer a lesson!"
Like a thief in the night, Damion crept behind the thug. He snatched the Poké Ball from his grasp. "I'll take that," he interjected. He tossed the Ball backwards to Skylar who stationed next to Dragonair. "Dragonair, now – use Aqua Tail!" His faithful dragon summoned a small spiral of water around its tail's blue crystal orbs. The dragon's tail rushed into the side of Rhydon's neck, causing it to lose balance and loosen its grip. It was a super-effective hit.
The young Scientist coughed in agony and spat up blood. Damion's meddling infuriated the Rocket Grunt. His Rock-type ally groaned in pain; his self-composed scheme had crumbled and his objective was missing in action. Blaine had vanished.
"Kangaskhan!" the goon shrieked. "Outraaage!" White light emerged from the Poké Ball in Skylar's palms. The Parent Pokémon, with her pup tightly secured in her belly pouch, appeared. Working herself into a frenzy, Kangaskhan balled up her claws and sent Skylar clear across the room with a single punch. With red jittery eyes the Normal-type grabbed the back of Damion's head and bounced his face off the ground before pouncing onto his Dragonair.
The slippery dragon managed to escape Kangaskhan's grip, but only for an instant. She gave chase and latched onto the dragon's tail with her razor-sharp teeth. Reclaiming her clutch, the Parent Pokémon swung Dragonair in circles, flinging the dragon into an unyielding Gym wall.
"Great work, my love," the Grunt proclaimed from the desked end of the battle room. He ran his hands along the walls while his Pokémon wreaked havoc. He was searching for a secret lever or button. On the wall opposite of Blaine's desk was a fire alarm block positioned curiously. He approached it with caution.
This has to be it, the goon thought. Rocket officials knew a secret compartment when they saw one. "Kangaskhan," he called to his Pokémon, "keep watch until I get back. Make sure these punks don't go anywhere." He pulled the fire alarm and locked it into place. What seemed to be a stout enclosure revealed itself to be a translucent escape passage. "I've got you now, Blaine! There's nowhere to hide!" The Grunt pushed the secret door and sprinted down its opening. His footsteps echoed in the distance.
About a minute later, Damion regained consciousness. Dragonair was his first sight. He grabbed for its Poké Ball and returned his good friend to safety. His nose nearly broken, Damion rose to his feet and limped over to Skylar. Kangaskhan followed with patience.
He lifted her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the boy asked. She shook her head, still struggling to form words. He sat her back down, away from harm, and faced the imposing beast. "Alright, that's enough. Team Rocket will not prevail. Haunter, I choose you!" The goofy Gas Pokémon appeared in top form. Kangaskhan charged at her opponent. Damion dodged the ballistic mother of one as she zipped right through Haunter's body and crashed into the wall head first.
Haunter cracked up laughing. Damion joined in too. That is, until he remembered this was no laughing matter. Skylar carefully arose on her own accord. She glanced at the fainted Kangaskhan with compassion; her child lay helplessly waiting.
"It'll be alright," Damion affirmed. He placed the pup aside from its mother's collapsed weight. "It knows how to survive until its mother comes to."
"A-Are you sure?" she voiced.
"Trust me, Skylar, I'm sure. It might even enjoy a little alone time. Now, let's go get this g—"
A shrill cry for help came from the secret passageway. Eager to investigate, the teens hurried as best they could towards the opening. Once there, however, an intense heat enveloped their skin. Damion protected his friend, kneeling and bracing for cover. In a flash, a massive body of flames streaked out – its target: the Rocket Grunt.
The inferno pinned him against the Gym's parallel, fire-retardant wall for multiple seconds. His body was left completely charred. A Pokémon known as Magmortar (Magby's final evolutionary stage) emerged from the corridor with Blaine a couple of steps behind it. The flame-wielding Pokémon was human-like in theory. It had wide, menacing pink lips and cannons for hands. Three separated claws retracted when it readied an attack. Crimson, flame-shaped protrusions extended from its shoulders. Blaine crouched near the severely burned intruder.
"I told you not to threaten me," he said with the straightest of faces.
Twitching, shaking and holding onto his last breath, the goon uttered: "Rocket… is… eternal." What they witnessed shocked the young spectators. Their jaws remained dropped until the Cinnabar Gym Leader justified his actions.
"If you think he wasn't willing to commit a similar act to me, you are sadly mistaken."
". . ."
"You: Your Dragonair bought me enough time to escape. For that, I thank you."
"I… was just doing what I felt was right," said the boy.
"Your heart did not betray you. Tell me, why did you follow this man?"
"I noticed his suspicious activity when he was leaving the ferry earlier. That's where I met Skylar."
"Hello, Skylar, pleased to make your acquaintance. I saw you on one of those special edition discs. I'm a fan of your father's work."
"She was powerfully punched in the gut by that fainted Kangaskhan over there. Words are a little difficult right now."
"I understand. You both, along with my assistants, are in need of immediate medical attention. It's not safe here. You can tell me more at my fellow researcher's home in Cerulean City. He has the technology to revive you and your Pokémon in a matter of seconds."
"Cerulean City… So, Bill, creator of the computer Pokémon Storage System, is your friend?"
"Astute observation, kid, but Bill doesn't have friends. However, we have collaborated on a few projects. You know him?"
"Yeah. Well, no. I once stood up to a Biker girl who was bullying his younger sister just outside of Goldenrod. She rewarded me with an Eevee of Bill's that I carry with me to this day."
"Those blasted Bikers. Some things never change."
"You should limit your nightly news intake. They're not all bad. I diffused the situation rather quickly."
"Not without battling first, I'm sure."
"True. But that's exactly what I wanted."
"I like that, kid."
Blaine helped his apprentice off the ground.
"I should apologize for what I said earlier. It's not one of my biggest regrets, but I'm sorry," he said. As they were leaving, Skylar placed the Revival Herb Damion had given her next to the baby Kangaskhan.
The veteran Gym Leader took his bigger than usual group of teens to the Pokémon Center, which did not have enough space for eight humans. The head nurse and her staff prepped all five available human-sized beds.
"Two of my assistants only need some bandaging. We will have to travel to Cerulean without Skylar. She needs treatment now," Blaine stated to Damion.
"Sounds like the correct decision to me," the boy agreed. He went to Skylar to say goodbye once she was settled. Until that time, the two Trainers planned ahead while their Pokémon were being healed.
"What is the most efficient route to Cerulean, sir?" the boy asked.
"It depends. Can that Dragonair of yours fly?" said Blaine.
"Technically, Dragonair can glide. But not well enough to support a person for long distances."
"Blast. Well, you got some cash on you? I only have one Flying-type Pokémon in my Box, and he isn't bulky enough for the two of us."
"Yeah, I've got cash. Is there a service?"
"We can rent a Charizard ride for 200 bucks each. Just have to mention it to Nurse Joy once she gives us our Pokémon back. It's free everywhere else in Kanto, but we are still rebuilding here in Cinnabar."
"It's not a problem. I'll pay for yours too, sir."
"Just call me Blaine. And that won't be necessary, kid."
"Please, just let me pay for the rides. I kinda owe you a new Gym window anyway."
"You do, huh? In that case: Thanks for the lift, buckaroo."
Head nurse, Mrs. Vanessa Joy-Smallwood, brought back their Pokémon from her healing machine. "Here you are, Blaine, Mr. Harrison. Your Pokémon are relaxed and fully restored! Thank you for stopping by, and we will notify you when your assistants are well enough to check out of the Center." Damion spoke up.
"Thanks for taking care of us, Nurse Joy. May I ask you something else?"
"Yes, of course, young man."
"Is this where I can purchase a Charizard ride to another part of Kanto?"
"Indeed it is. I will simply need you to sign a form that states you will agree to our terms and conditions."
"Absolutely."
"Excellent! Alright, how many Charizards did you need to rent?"
"Just two. No, three actually. Three."
"And who are the other two passengers?"
"So, there's one for me, one for Blaine and one for Skylar, the girl in the Master Ball hat."
"That's sweet of you. Okay, so I've got three Charizards down for you, sir. Where are you flying to today?"
"Blaine and I are headed to Cerulean City. I'm not sure about Skylar, though. Is there an extra fee to send her to a separate location?"
"No, no. Don't worry, dear. There is no added fee. I will simply send her wherever she asks."
"Okay, thank you. How much does that come out to?"
"That will be 660 Poké Dollars, sir."
"Cool, here you go."
"Oh, that's plenty. Let me give you back your change."
"Don't bother. The extra 340 is for helping us in our time of need."
"Wow! Thank you, Mr. Harrison. My staff and I greatly appreciate your gesture."
"No problem, Mrs. Joy. Where do I sign?"
"Right here at the bottom: sign, date, and time stamp. By signing, you agree to return these two Charizards to the Cerulean City Pokémon Center, and only the Cerulean City Pokémon Center, within a 24-hour span. If you do not comply, or tamper with the Charizards in any way, you will be banned from using all Kanto Pokémon Centers until your fine is paid. Is that clear?"
"It is crystal clear, ma'am. Thanks again."
"Here are your two Charizards. Have a safe flight!"
Damion accepted the two Poké Balls from Nurse Joy and tossed one over to Blaine.
"Hey, I'm going to say bye to Skylar, if she's awake," said Damion.
"OK, I'll be outside," Blaine replied. "No rush, but time is always of the essence." Damion placed his rental Charizard's Ball in his outer vest pocket on his way to Skylar. He crossed paths with one of the nurses near her room and stopped her for a moment.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you know if Skylar Lukas in Port 5 is up? I'd like to say goodbye but I don't want to wake her."
"I'm not sure, let me check," she said. "Bethany… Hey, Bethany! Is the patient in Port 5 awake? This gentleman would like to speak with her before he leaves." Her colleague informed her that Skylar was currently resting. He retrieved his Trainer Journal from his Bag and ripped out a page.
"I'll just write her a note," he said. "If you could give it to her, that'd be great."
"I sure can," she smiled. "Safe travels!" Damion folded his note in half, handing it to the friendly nurse.
Blaine stared at the Sun on the east side of the Pokémon Center's exterior with his rented Charizard already released. When the Center's automatic door slid open, he mounted the harness on the Flame Pokémon's back. Damion did the same, and the two took off for Cerulean City.
They flew northeast, past the waters that border the Seafoam Islands (the temporary location of Cinnabar Gym before the island's remodeling, and rumored home of the Legendary Pokémon Articuno), Routes 17 and 18 (also known as Cycling Road where Bikers are most populated) and Vermillion City Port (where the famous S.S. Anne docks).
Blaine surveyed the scenes of Vermillion and Saffron City with discontent on his face, like he wanted to pay them a visit. But he did not speak a word. Even if he would have, Damion would not have heard. He was sound asleep with his arms tight around Charizard's neck.
Past Route 5, just north of Saffron, Cerulean City came into view. Instead of first stopping at the Pokémon Center, the Cinnabar Gym Leader directed both fully evolved Flame Pokémon to continue ahead of Route 25. They reached Bill's renowned seaside residence a little while later.
The rented Charizards landed gently but not quietly. Their species loved to growl and roar, especially to make an entrance. (They are the world's second-most popular Pokémon and beloved by most.) Damion opened his eyes to Blaine and Bill shaking hands at Bill's doorstep. The young Trainer brushed himself off and hurried to give his introduction.
"Once again, Bill," Blaine said, "I apologize for not calling ahead. The last two hours have been a little hectic for me and the kid." Bill was a mild-mannered man. His sense of style had a casual, nerdy tone similar to that of a typical tech retailer.
"Say no more! I always welcome visitors who I already know!" Bill assured. "Please, come in. Excuse the mess. You know me, always looking to make the next big breakthrough!" Damion peeked in briefly before Blaine interrupted his walking motion.
"Bill and I have some business to discuss. Why don't you be a good, young Trainer and return the Charizards to Cerulean's Pokémon Center before we forget," he requested.
"We?" the boy reacted. "Why can't we just do it tomorrow?"
"Young man," Blaine countered, "what is today other than yesterday's tomorrow?"
"Whatever," Damion consented. "Just give me your Charizard's Poké Ball." Blaine handed his rental Ball over to him.
"Thanks, kiddo." Still indebted to Blaine for breaking one of his Gym windows, Damion kept his complaints internal, raising his hand halfheartedly goodbye as he faced the midsized forest of Route 25. The fellow Pokémon Researchers entered the Sea Cottage. Bill offered his Gym Leader guest a beverage.
"I'm feeling something different," said Blaine. "Do you have any milk tea recipes?" Bill's mien shifted from friendly to slightly repugnant.
"No, I don't," Bill replied. "I'm sorry. Have you forgotten my condition?" They looked at each other in confusion.
"Your condition?" said Blaine, somewhat muddled.
"Yes, my lactose intolerance. Just the thought of milk makes me –"
"Oh! Yes, yes, I remember now. Pardon me."
"It's quite alright."
"Well, what about that sissy almond milk you're always raving about? Y'got any of that?"
"I might! Hold on, let me check."
". . ."
"Nope, I'm afraid I ran out of almond milk earlier this week."
"Hmph."
"My apologies."
"No, it's fine. But you should really consider getting out of the house more. Or at least hire a maid or something."
"Ha, you're probably right. But I need to learn to cook and clean for myself on a regular basis. Besides, having someone new in the house still doesn't feel right."
"I hear ya. How is Celeste, by the way?"
"Doing well last I heard. She moved back to Celadon to finish her degree. After the cloning experiment you and I were forced into, I figured she wouldn't stick around too much longer. It was for the best, I guess."
"That might be the one and only time I ever wished I was an average Joe."
"Same here, man. Can I get you something else to drink?"
"Something wet will do – anything but water."
Bill opened his refrigerator. Scanning the scarcity, Bill spotted a citrus-flavored Soda Pop in the bottom door shelf. He grabbed the soda and set it on his table next to Blaine.
"Thanks, Bill. If you don't mind," Blaine added, "there is something I needed to speak with you about." Bill pulled out a chair and joined his colleague.
"Certainly. Is it something you don't want the boy to know?" Blaine removed his hat, scratching his shiny bald head.
"Damion needs to tell me why he was snooping around my Gym in the first place. Then, if he is qualified to know, I will inform him of our situation." Bill stroked his chin in thought.
"Hm, Damion… that name sounds familiar for some reason." Finishing his first swig of soda, Blaine replied.
"It's funny you say that because the boy claims to have met your sister."
"Is that right?" said Bill. "He knows Valerie? Now I remember! He's the guy she wouldn't stop talking about. I think he saved her once. She gave him one of my Eevees, I believe."
"That's right," Blaine confirmed. "That's how Damion explained it too."
"Oh, boy. You should have heard how Val–"
"Bill," Blaine interrupted, "you can mention this to Damion when he returns. In the meantime, ya gotta see what's up with my arm."
The Gym Leader stood up and took off his lab coat, revealing a large patch of missing skin. Bill retrieved a pair of powder-blue latex gloves. He pressed the tender flesh in various places.
"Is it worse than before?" asked Bill.
"The pain was virtually non-existent for months," Blaine explained. "But just yesterday the burning and swelling started up again."
"I thought you said your skin was itching uncontrollably. Now it's a burning sensation?"
"Yes. I don't know what is happening. Do you think you can fix it? I thought we were done with this."
"I did too. Suddenly, I have a feeling this isn't a coincidence. I was sure my antidote solved this issue for good."
"That Pokémon… it can't be haunting me. Can it?"
"I wish I knew, Blaine. But for now I'm going to need another skin sample from you."
"Do what you must."
Blaine waited patiently for his colleague to come back with supplies. After sorting through more than a few drawers of mess, Bill returned with an X-acto knife, a clear plastic dish, moist towelettes and a damp rag. The Gym Leader grimaced as Bill carved a square of skin out of the rash. Blood and puss seeped out like molasses. Bill placed the square inside his plastic dish and began cleaning the wound.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" teased Bill.
"Uh-huh," Blaine answered with sarcasm. Once Blaine's rash was sanitized, Bill secured a cover onto the dish and inserted it into one of his machines against the back wall.
"This machine analyzes the biological composition of samples," he explained. "It tells me how much something has mutated, what kinds of bacteria are present, and it can even predict which diseases the samples are prone to. Don't you just love science?!" Blaine removed his armless sunglasses and rubbed his tired eyes.
"I prefer to conduct experiments on something other than myself. But, yes, science keeps me sane." An argument audible enough to Blaine's elderly ear resonated from outside the cottage's door.
"Bill, do you hear that?"
"Yeah, I do."
"We should probably go check it out."
"Feel free, if you want. I'm busy."
"What if someone is plotting to break in?"
"In broad daylight? They can try, but the outcome won't be too pleasant for them. It's probably just some kids battling out there. That has nothing to do with us."
"Your battling skills rival that of a School Boy, so you must be referring to a security system of some kind. You wouldn't need one of those if you'd just be a man every once in a while."
"I don't have time to constantly prove masculinity stereotypes. Not my style."
"You're the most famous Pokémon Researcher in the world, Bill. All you have is time."
"I make time for what I want to make time for, Blaine. Simple as that."
"Goodness gracious, William. No wonder you're alone."
"Hey! I'm trying to help you. And don't call me William!"
Blaine walked to the first-floor bathroom, without responding, and went through the medicine cabinet in search of gauze and ointment. He found and applied the cream, wrapped his rash in bandages and snatched his lab coat from the back of his chair.
"I'm going out there to see what's up," he stated. "See you in a bit."
Upon exiting, Blaine was smack-dab in the middle of a standoff between Damion, a Camper Pokémon Trainer and a Police Officer. A cluster of Trainers stood behind the Officer in protest. Alerted by the door opening, Damion made eye contact with Blaine.
"Blaine, thank goodness," said Damion. "Could you please tell these people that I have more important matters to tend to than their silly Nugget Bridge Challenge?" Blaine flattened the collar of his lab coat.
"I cannot say whether you do or don't. Did you return the Charizards like I asked?" he replied.
"Yeah, I did," Damion answered.
"OK, then my association with whatever is going on here does not exist," said Blaine. "Handle your business."
"Please," Damion urged, "tell them that I'm here with you. They're trying to force me into taking their challenge." The Camper butted into the conversation.
"You're a Pokémon Trainer; you can't back down from a challenge!" he bugged. Blaine crossed his arms.
"He makes a good point," the Gym Leader commented.
"You don't understand," Damion said with a sigh. "I already battled almost all of those Trainers back there. Do you know how long it takes t—?"
Before finishing his statement, he concluded that Blaine, of all people, would know how long it took to battle numerous Trainers in a row.
"Look," Damion corrected, "my point is: I don't want to battle an army of Trainers right now. I just wanted to return the Charizards, come back here and talk with you."
"Oh, boo-hoo!" the Policeman mocked. "These kids called me because they said you shoved them out of the way and threatened to 'end them' with your Pokémon. Ring any bells?" Visibly frustrated, Damion tucked his lips and countered.
"Obviously, I was upset. And that kid next to you grabbed me first. They wouldn't leave me alone!" The cop walked over to Damion, invading his personal space.
"And you call yourself a Trainer," he judged. "What kind of Trainer sissies out of an esteemed competition like the Nugget Bridge Challenge? You're supposed to be a role model to these kids; instead you're letting them down."
"Letting them down?" Damion scoffed. "Man, I don't care about them. The only thing I'm supposed to be is me. If these kids see me as a poor example of a role model, so be it. I never asked to be one." The boy's lack of submission bothered the Policeman. He responded in an aggressive yet controlled tone.
"Somebody needs to teach you a lesson in decency, boy," the authority figure said. Blaine stepped forward to challenge his behavior.
"And somebody needs to teach you a lesson in privacy, buddy; back away from the kid." The lawman bubbled with laughter.
"You can't tell me what to do," he said, tapping the badge on his chest. "Say, kid, what is so important that you need to discuss with this old crook?"
"Excuse me, 'crook'?" Blaine responded.
"You heard me," said the Policeman. "If you cough up that info, I'll send these brats back to their route."
"What?!" the eccentric Camper yipped. "Don't l-l-let this guy off the hook! He's just scared to lose, and uh… he's hiding behind a Gym Leader like a big baby! I came here to battle broh, because that's what I do. I'm Camper Riiick!" Damion turned to Blaine.
"Now do you see what I mean? This dude is nuts! He keeps referring to himself in the third person like I'm supposed to know who he is."
Taking offense to Damion's words, the Camper made his move.
"Nidoking, let's go!" The Drill Pokémon of purplish hue appeared. It boasted a spiky, durable frame and tail with a wide jaw and huge fangs. Standing on two feet, its giant bat-like ears, chiseled chest plate and prominent horn embodied its intimidation. Known as one of the most powerful Pokémon native to Kanto, Nidoking provoked gasps from the crowd of Trainers. Damion tucked his hand into his vest pocket. A Poké Ball maximized in his grip.
"Fight me, you coward; I'm Camper Rick!" The crazed boy took heavy, slimy breaths. Damion glanced in Blaine's direction, looking for guidance. He had none to give. So he did what Trainers do.
"Eevee, I choose you!" The cutesy, feline-esque Pokémon paled in comparison to Nidoking's physicality. Rick saw this decision as a jest.
"An Eevee?" he taunted. "You're going to fight my Nidoking with an Eevee? I almost feel sorry for you!" Two bystanders laughed with the Camper. The rest, however, remained quiet. They had witnessed Eevee's bond with Damion.
"Nidoking, crush his puny, little rat with your Earth Powerrr!" Bill burst from his front door.
"Alright, alright! I need everybody off my property at once!" All eyes were on the Pokémon Storage System inventor. He angrily marched to the Policeman.
"Officer… Winslow, is it? Everyone, including you and excluding Blaine and this tired young man, are trespassers on my property. I must ask you all to leave." The lawman accepted Bill's challenge.
"With all due respect, Bill, I say we let these boys hash this out. I could use a little afternoon entertainment."
"Need I remind you, officer," Bill noted, "that Chief Burns is on my speed dial. One call to my biggest fan and you're off the force – for good." He nodded in agreement. After hocking a loogie, Winslow directed the Camper to stand down and return his Pokémon to its Ball.
"But, but," Rick begged, "I'm Camper R-!"
"No one cares!" Damion shouted with cupped hands. Bill, Blaine and Damion watched as the pack of troublemakers dispersed in peace. Bill took advantage of this moment.
"You owe me not one, but two anytime favors, Blaine," he said.
"So you've found an antidote?" the Leader asked.
"Possibly. We'll have to test it out."
"Excellent. Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I don't know if it'll even work."
"Successful or not, thanks anyway for trying. I know I'm not the easiest guy to work with."
"It's fine, man. Damion, come. Let's go inside."
The temporary trio entered the Sea Cottage to sit and talk. Bill began preparing his antidote for Blaine. Damion's invasion of his Pokémon Gym was Blaine's first order of business.
"OK, kid. Here's the part where you tell me why you were snooping around my Gym."
"It's a long story," he said. "But, in short, I'm on a mission to save a missing girl."
"That's admirable of you, though I don't see what that has to do with me or my Gym."
"I was told you might be able to assist me."
"By whom?"
"A man who claims to be an old business partner of yours: Giovanni."
Both scientists' stomachs curdled. The very name of the former Rocket Leader stirred trauma into their brains. But one question need be asked. And Blaine supplied it.
"What's a decent kid like you doing fraternizing with a piece of work like Giovanni?"
"He is my sworn enemy," Damion asserted. "Team Rocket is responsible for the death of my parents. I wouldn't be here if there was any other way."
"Considering your situation, I can forgive a broken window. I will oblige you. How am I to help?"
"Those journals you have. Giovanni said if I couldn't find them you would know where they were, and that they might have information regarding an ultimate Pokémon of some kind that's been haunting his dreams."
Blaine immediately swiveled his head towards Bill; he was already staring in their direction.
"This can't be happenstance," said Bill. "We need to tell him."
"Tell me what?" Damion asked.
In his hand Bill held a serum gun. Blaine tied his lab coat around his waist and unraveled the gauze from his forearm. At the gun's hollowed tip was a short needle. Bill injected a shot of serum into Blaine's mutilated arm rash.
"W-What is that? On your arm," the boy questioned.
"This is a mark of discovery, Damion, of creation," Blaine answered.
"What did you create?" he asked in fear. Bill placed his device on the table and looked deep into the Trainer's eyes.
"We created the world's strongest Pokémon."
