Here we go. This is the longest chapter of Reckless Paradise thus far, although I do anticipate there being longer chapters than this. We ARE only six chapters in, after all.

It's a lovely Sunday morning here in...well, I won't say the state. I will celebrate by posting this chapter. I think today will be a good day. Enjoy.

LUCAS LEAWOOD, 19

The moment we pushed our way through the massive doors leading into City Hall, I was struck by the stark contrast between the outside and the inside. It was like night and day.

Whereas the lawn had been a scene of complete and utter chaos, the interior of the building was very calm by comparison. The rotunda didn't have anyone in sight, whether they be human or Pokemon.

My heart was still thumping rapidly. The scene outside had frightened me more than I liked to admit, and what was more, the large open area in the building was rather unnerving. I half expected protesters to break down the doors and trample us at any moment.

In a way, this is like the eye of the storm. In the eye, it's calm and peaceful, but the eye wall surrounds this whole building. I just really hope they don't come in here.

"How did nobody get in here?" my sister enquired, shaking what I assumed was sweat out of her fur. "Except us, that is."

I shook my head. There were some things I'd never fully understand, and this was probably one of them.

The interior of City Hall was certainly grand. The walls and floor were both made of marble, which glistened in the morning sun that was radiating through the doors and windows. At the same time, even if it weren't totally deserted, it would still be at least somewhat unnerving to me.

I hadn't been inside this building in over a year. As such, I only had the slightest idea where the mayor's office was, let alone the office of anyone else who worked for the city of Wildebush.

"Are we trespassing?" I asked Michaela. "If so, I really think we should get out of here before we get in trouble."

My Braixen sister looked at me incredulously, one of her gold-and-orange ears rising a good few inches. It was as though she had no idea what I was talking about.

"Some things," she told me, "are worth getting into trouble over. Like this."

I myself wasn't too sure about that, but I didn't protest. I was the older sibling, and it certainly felt weird to follow my younger sibling's lead, but I found that, little by little, I was starting to trust her more.

It occurred to me, not for the first time, that if we got through these strange days alive, my sister had a bright future ahead of her. Perhaps I'm putting a thumb on the scale for her, but I truly believed that Michaela Leawood would excel in whatever field she decided to enter.

One reason for this is that I knew that I wasn't the only person to trust her. She had so many friends at school, it was almost ridiculous. She seemed to trust these people, and they seemed to care about her in return.

I hope that one day, I can be as much of a social butterfly as my sister.

Speaking of my sister, while I had that internal monologue, Michaela was beckoning me to follow her towards the nearby elevator. Eventually, she reached over and patted me like a dog, which, as demeaning as it may have been, had the desired effect, snapping me out of my reverie.

"Mayor Almaty's chief of staff works in the basement. There aren't any stairs leading there; there's only the elevator. Hurry, before they rush inside!"

If by "they" she means the protesters, I have a question. If they were going to enter City Hall, why haven't they done so already?

I followed her inside the elevator, and she pressed the button for the basement.

I hadn't had a fear of elevators prior to today, but I feared them today for some reason. This probably had to do with the line of reasoning that, if something so massive and terrible had happened to the world yesterday, who knew what would happen today? Perhaps the elevator couldn't be trusted.

The good news is, nothing happened during the short elevator ride. There was no "elevator action", if you will.

The bad news was that as soon as the doors opened to reveal the basement, I came face to face with the Blaziken I least wanted to see in the world. Okay, maybe not the world, but certainly in Wildebush.

"Bradley! What are you doing here?" I all but yelled as soon as I saw my former best friend next to the food pantry.

Bradley Clarion crossed his arms and ground his teeth. "I could ask the same of you two. You don't have a very good reason to be here, as far as I know."

For a few tense seconds, both of us stared at each other with lightning in our eyes. A knife would not have been sufficient to cut the tension in the air.

We were eventually interrupted by a weak, high-pitched voice coming from the other end of the hallway. The words that came from this voice sounded almost humorous.

"How about you guys both admit that you don't need to be here?"

The voice had come from a small Pokemon with four legs. It was a very light blue in color, nearly white, and had a sky blue crown on its head.

His eyes were teal in color. I could tell that this Pokemon was male, because...I just could. That's usually the first thing I notice about a person, and that sense has followed me into my new species.

Bradley the Blaziken whipped his head around to face the new Pokemon. "Sir, Mr. Glaceon…".

"My name is Terrence Santorini, and that's what I expect you to call me" the Glaceon replied curtly. "And you three aren't supposed to be here; I have half a mind to call the police right now and have you arrested."

Michaela shot back immediately. "What about the huge crowd in front of City Hall? Are you going to arrest them too? You can't arrest everyone, so what's the point of arresting anyone?"

"The difference", Mr. Santorini responded, "is that the protesters aren't technically breaking any laws. Entering City Hall without an officially stated reason is against the law, and at a minimum, I'll have to escort you three off the premises unless you have a sufficient justification for being here."

I turned to Michaela and snapped, "This was your idea! Own it".

Mr. Santorini frowned. "The law doesn't care whose idea it was, Mr. Growlithe. All that matters is that you are breaking the law, and lawbreakers have to be held accountable."

"Fine" Michaela replied. "We'll leave. In a few minutes. But first, please tell me what you know about Mayor Almaty's disappearance."

The Glaceon instantly blanched at that request. I hadn't thought this was possible, for his fur was pretty white as is.

Eventually, he seemed to get his bearings back. "I am a member of his staff. That's why I'm here and all of the other workers are gone. I'm considered an essential worker, and they can do their jobs from home."

I was tempted to ask Mr. Santorini to show his ID, to prove he was indeed one of the mayor's staffers, but of course, this wouldn't do any good. Leaving aside the fact that I had no authority to do so, seeing his ID wouldn't prove that he was who he said he was. People faked IDs all the time as far as I was concerned.

Back to reality. Michaela told Mr. Santorini the following: "You did not answer the question. Just please tell us what you know about the mayor's whereabouts."

The Glaceon raised an eyebrow. "Look, it's pretty hot today. It's even hotter down here. This isn't the ideal environment for my species or whatever; I'm going to melt at this rate. I don't need you three bothering me; who are you guys, anyway, and how old are you?"

After we had each stated our names and ages (we saw no good reason to lie about this), Mr. Santorini became a little less hostile towards us. Just a little.

"Just because I'm a staffer doesn't mean that I know everything about the mayor" the Glaceon told us once he had calmed down. "I don't know where he is every hour of every day; that's not my job."

"That's not what we're asking you, though," I told Mr. Santorini in response. "We just want to know if you know anything about the case."

Only after saying that last line did it hit me just how insensitive I was being, how rude we all probably sounded. The poor guy probably thought we were accusing him of a crime.

"Accusations should not be made lightly, you know" the Glaceon replied, echoing my own thoughts.

"We're not saying you did anything wrong. Just please tell us what you know; the whole city needs to know as much as possible."

Mr. Santorini shook his head. "I'm not going to tell three people under the age of twenty all of the secrets of the city. That would be against every principle I believe in as an employee of the government."

Bradley chimed in; he'd been silent for a while. He said, "Isn't one of the most important principles of government that it should be as transparent as possible? If you want people to keep trusting the municipal government of Wildebush, surely you should tell them this."

To this day, I believe Bradley's words were the tipping point. That was when the conversation, if this were a tug of war, began tilting in our favor.

"Are you three threatening me? You do realize that's a crime as well, right?"

Bradley frowned. "We'd just like some more information. If you know anything, please tell us."

That did it. If this were a baseball game, we might be talking about the mercy rule. Little by little, Mr. Santorini seemed to realize that he couldn't resist us.

"Fine. Mrs. Natalie Almaty, the mayor's wife, was informed by the mayor that he'd be heading out for a bike ride at midnight. At least, that's what she says. As far as I know, this much is accurate; we have no reason to doubt it."

Those words weren't particularly helpful; we already knew this much from the news media. When we told Mr. Santorini this, he moved onto another point, one that hadn't been raised yet.

"Officially, there hasn't been any evidence raised that foul play was involved. This was just one random disappearance; perhaps, while riding his bike, Mayor Almaty was hit by a car. As tragic as it sounds, that does happen at night.

"Of course, even if that's what happened, why would there be no trace? Wildebush isn't a large city by any means, but there are enough people here that someone would surely come across the body within a few hours."

Mr. Santorini shook his head. "Even though foul play isn't officially suspected, I still think this may not have been an accident at all. Either the mayor was kidnapped, or…".

He didn't need to finish that sentence. The idea was so horrific that even I didn't want to believe it about Jeremy Almaty. Why would the mayor abdicate such an important responsibility the day after the Big Event?

"In any case", the Glaceon continued, "I don't know why you three are involving yourselves so closely with this case. Like I said, none of you, as far as I know, have ever worked for the City of Wildebush."

The things Mr. Santorini didn't say were, to me, just as important as what he did say. When he said the lines above, what I heard was: In other words, it's none of your business. Stop asking questions.

I was tempted to ask him more questions, but judging by the Glaceon's body language, he didn't want us here any longer. And I began to worry that he might actually follow through on his threat to have us arrested for trespassing, so I didn't want to be there any longer than necessary.

As the three of us got back in the elevator to head out, Bradley looked at me with an apologetic expression on his face.

"Listen, I'm sorry I said those things yesterday. It was a little impulsive of me to use those words."

For a moment, I didn't remember what the Blaziken boy was talking about, but then it came back to me.

I shook my head. "I know that you didn't mean to be hurtful, but it's just rather insulting to the people in Japan. You realize that they're dealing with a massive earthquake as well as this crisis, right?"

Bradley nodded. "I heard about that; it really is horrible. I hope that we can be friends again; I've already started to miss you. The old you."

I could have pointed out that the "old" Lucas Leawood wasn't coming back any time soon. For all I knew, the old me was dead and gone.

But that's not what I said in response to Bradley Clarion.

"It's fine. Apology accepted."

MICHAELA LEAWOOD, 16

The instant I woke up in the early hours of the morning on Wednesday, August 21, 2019, I felt a hot flash covering my entire body.

It didn't take long to realize what had woken me up. There was a prickling sensation all over my body. From my legs, to my torso, to my chest, even my head and face, it felt as though...actually, the feeling is indescribable, so I'm not even going to try.

Soon, I began to realize that my hair was receding, my eyes were burning, and what felt like thick hair was sprouting all over the rest of my body.

My heart stopped. "This isn't supposed to happen! When has this ever happened in human history?"

The most terrifying thing, however, was that those words didn't come out the way I meant them.

Instead, I simply heard the sound "Bray!" come through my lips, even though I was well aware of what I was trying to say. It's really quite surreal to hear a mismatch between your vocal cords and your brain so acutely.

Okay...something's not right here.

There were some aches as my legs shortened, but overall, my transformation was more uncomfortable than painful. Only once I had summoned the strength to get up and look in the mirror did I realize the animal I had become.

My first response was, I must be dreaming! This never happens, does it? Pokemon aren't real!

Of course, sometimes the definition of what is "real" is rather complex. Even if Pokemon didn't exist in the physical world, they existed in the minds of the creators. Just because something was happening in your head, didn't mean that it wasn't real.

But Pokemon being real in the sense of people transforming into them was, to say the very least, not something I'd ever considered.

I knew a thing or two about the Pokemon franchise. Everyone did; it was almost as ubiquitous as Starbucks. Wherever you looked, there it was.

While I hadn't been as much of a fan as some of my friends, I'd played the trading card game often enough to know what species was staring at me in the mirror. If the earlier squeal of "Bray!" hadn't been enough of a dead giveaway, that is.

I have become a Braixen.

I began to worry immensely. I wasn't exactly a hypochondriac by any means, but seeing that I had turned into a Pokemon, perhaps something was very wrong with me.

No, there was no "perhaps" about it - something was definitely wrong with me.

Once I'd gotten back to my bed, I ripped my phone off of its charger and unlocked it using my passcode. After typing in, "person turning into a Pokemon", I got many more results than expected. Tens of millions, to be more precise.

I don't know what I was expecting. Perhaps there was more Pokemon TF fanfiction out there than I had thought. I didn't read fanfiction myself, but I had a couple of friends who were into that sort of thing.

What I did not expect were endless news stories covering an event that had occurred just minutes ago.

The headlines were plastered all over the Internet by now. Apparently, I wasn't the only one whom this had happened to. Anecdotal reports from all over the world indicated that millions, potentially tens or even hundreds of millions, had lost their human bodies.

The New York Times, CNN, the BBC...pretty much every news organization one could conceive of was covering it. This was the only story that mattered right now.

It was then that something occurred to me. Have Mom, Dad, or Lucas transformed?

That thought terrified me. Call me a bleeding heart if you will, but I absolutely adored my family and didn't want to see anything bad happen to them.

Since I was lighter in my Braixen form than I had been as a human, it would probably be a lot easier to sneak up on my parents' bedroom without waking them up. That in itself raised another question: Should I wake them up?

I ultimately decided against it. My parents had worked long hours at work yesterday, and my mother had made an awesome dinner last night; in other words, they had earned their rest. It wasn't even six in the morning yet; I could let them sleep a little longer.

Right on cue, there was a pinging noise from my phone. My mother had texted us the following message: Lucas? Michaela? Are you safe?

If having turned into a Braixen counts as "safe", then I guess. I mean, I suppose it could be worse.

I tried to respond right away, to reassure her that I was fine, but typing was very difficult with three fingers on each hand. Besides, even though this situation was scary, I didn't want to worry her any more than necessary. As stated above, she deserved a little more relaxation.

Once I went downstairs, however, I saw a sight that shocked me. While I'd been bracing myself for it, just in case my brother had become a Pokemon, even that didn't make it any less jarring.

Sitting on the couch (to the extent that someone who'd just become a quadruped could sit) was a Pokemon that appeared like a white tiger. I'd seen this species too; it was rather ubiquitous in the franchise. I was pretty sure they didn't come in that color, though.

"Lucas! You became a Growlithe!" I blurted out loudly. I could hardly believe my eyes, even though I'd known this was a possibility. I just hadn't expected his fur to be this color.

When the white Growlithe I assumed to be my elder brother gave me a weird look, I continued.

"I saw the news and hoped I was the only one in the family...but Mom texted us and I...I just couldn't respond!"

"Michaela, right?" Lucas asked me, clearly trying to keep his expression as reassuring as possible. As if to say: We'll get through this, you and me.

I nodded. Almost immediately, more words forced themselves out of my mouth, as though they'd been shot out of a cannon.

"I'm your sister, and I'm now officially a Braixen. One thing I can't understand is, your fur's white! That's not supposed to happen in the games, is it?"

There was a long silence after that, with a sizable amount of tension in the air. This tension was not between my brother and I, but was simply a product of the whole situation.

Lucas didn't respond. And he still didn't. And...well, you get the idea. For a moment, I worried he hadn't heard me. And then he said, "No, I don't think it is."

I sat down on the couch beside my brother, who had been watching the news on TV. President Fiddlesticks, the incompetent buffoon who supposedly led our nation, was giving an address to the American public about the situation.

If this is the guy we have to trust to get us through this, we're all fucked.

On the TV beside the President, scenes from London, Paris, and Berlin were being shown. They were horrific; many cars had crashed, a number of buildings were on fire, and there just seemed to be a lot of panic in general.

"I knew it was bad, but surely not this bad" I told my brother. "People are literally dying because they transformed while driving and lost control of their vehicles."

Lucas simply nodded, but (although this is just my perception) he didn't seem too bothered by it; his expression was neutral. "Yep, that's what's happening. What a mess."

He didn't seem to get it. "Lucas, you do realize that those people have feelings too, right? Not only that, but they have friends and family members who loved them, who still love them. This is a massive tragedy."

How could he not realize just how terrible this calamity was? Was his heart two sizes too small or something?

Even so, I didn't want to allow myself too much anger towards Lucas. He was my brother, after all, and we had to look out for each other. Isn't that what family's for?

The following day, as we were leaving City Hall, forcing our way through throngs of protesters and counter-protesters, the events of the last twenty-four to thirty hours ran through my mind.

One thing I had come to appreciate was this: It had taken over two hundred years to make the United States a global superpower. Some would say it was the greatest country on Earth, although many would dispute that. And yet, less than a day and a half after the Big Event, it had fallen into total chaos; a "reckless paradise", if you will.

Much like trust in a relationship, a nation takes a very long time to build, but it can be torn down practically overnight. Just one bad actor, one crisis, can bring it to its knees.

"Are you going to be friends with Bradley again?" I asked Lucas as we were making our way back to the car. I was going to drive home, since my brother couldn't do so as a Growlithe. "He was your best friend for so long."

My brother looked up at me. He'd always been a good bit taller than me when we were humans, so it was a bit weird to see him have to look upwards in order to communicate. I kind of liked the change.

"I don't know if I can, Michaela. But let me tell you, I'm going to try. You're right; it was a little rude of me to cut him out like that yesterday."

I nodded. "I'm glad you learned your lesson. We all have the same goal, as should our brave frontline workers and scientists. Although are there really any heroes in this story?"

"I'm sure there are," Lucas replied. "The people you mentioned, for one. Having to be out in the world must take some guts. I would hate to see the inside of a hospital right now, too; I watched coverage of Japan yesterday."

"It's really awful" I responded. I didn't know what else to say.

" But every day, just think about those people who are going in and out every day for the foreseeable future, saving as many lives as they can. Those people are heroes, and heroes don't always wear capes."

"I guess not" I snorted. "Sometimes they wear scrubs."

Of course, on some level, I knew that the situation in America's hospitals and clinics was anything but funny. "Horrifically tragic" would have been a better description.

For the record, in real life, a cursory Google search on my MacBook Air for "turning into a Pokemon" garnered 6.26 million results, more than I thought it would.

And yes, I write on a MacBook Air. Although my birthday's only a month and a half away; maybe I'll get a new computer then. Or maybe I won't. In any case thank you all for reading this far, stay safe, get your COVID vaccine like I did, and I'll see you all next time.