It is an early update, but for a good reason. I swear on the River Styx that it's a good reason; you'll see later.

This chapter was a difficult one to write, but still enjoyable, even if the subject matter is rather dark. You'll see what I mean in just a moment.

NO POV

It had only been a little over a day since the Big Event, but during that time, everything had changed. The world had been in a relative state of peace, but it was not so anymore.

The news media in the United States had been portraying overwhelmed hospitals, car crashes, and other horrors as things that were happening in other countries. Of course, the United States is an "other country" to other countries.

That was the harsh reality of it: Nobody was safe. Whether this be as a result of a novel virus or the "planet's curse", whatever that might mean, the world was all in this together. That was the best thing about it, but also the worst thing about it; mostly the latter.

Outside of a New York City hospital on Thursday morning, August 22 of the year 2019, sirens were blaring. Indeed, for the island of Manhattan, and this neighborhood in particular, the sirens never stopped.

A whole line of ambulances had lined up outside the hospital's emergency department, all of which had their lights flashing. To the few people (and even fewer Pokemon) walking past, the decibel level was akin to that of a rock concert, but without any of the fun factor.

The first ambulance in line (which hadn't been the first ambulance to come by that day) opened its doors. A Lucario whose chest spike had been bashed in, evidently by some blunt trauma, was carried out on a stretcher by four paramedics.

One of the paramedics, whom we'll call "Sam", had been working all night and into the midmorning. He began talking to himself; contrary to what some would expect, this helped him focus more on the task at hand. In his mind, he began reciting the facts of this case.

Dan Fairfax, age 28. An Uber driver from the Lower East Side. Transformed in the middle of driving to pick up a passenger; thank God he wasn't transporting anyone, or else we'd have one more patient to worry about.

It wasn't as though Sam hated his job; he wanted all of his patients to get well. The problem, of course, was that the more patients there were, the lower the likelihood each of them had of recovery. It was his job to serve the people of New York City and make sure as many patients survived as possible.

An IV line had been started on Dan the Lucario in order to deliver pain medication, but he was losing blood fast; his beige chest fur was soaked in red. He'd likely need a transfusion, and soon. If not...well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what would happen.

Inside the ER, all was chaos. The triage room was practically littered with the bodies of the transformed, which were all in varying states of alertness. Some were fully conscious and screaming in agony; others were unconscious, which, in Sam's view, made them lucky. At least they were spared the terrible sight. The majority were somewhere in between.

"This species...they call him a "Lucario"? Like, what is that? A cross between Lucas and Mario?"

Those were the words of one of the hospital's attending physicians, looking over the broken, semiconscious body of Dan Fairfax. She was significantly older than Sam, so it made sense that she didn't know the first thing about Pokemon.

Sam, on the other hand, knew that Lucario could sense aura, which was in all living things. The organs on Dan's head, two large black blobs, were twitching, and the rest of his body seemed to be writhing in agony.

"Relax, Dan," one of the paramedics carrying the stretcher said. "You're only going to lose blood faster if you keep moving."

How do they not know that this man has to be in great emotional pain? Like, he can probably sense all of our worries, even if he's not fully aware of his surroundings!

"Anyway, Dan Fairfax, male, twenty-eight years old" one of the paramedics told the attending physician. "Transformed into a Lucario while driving, crashed, resulted in a lot of lacerations all over his chest; he needs blood, stat."

The paramedic could barely be heard over the wailing of sirens, as well as the moaning and groaning of the transformed. They might not have been able to speak English, but the language of pain was universal.

The attending physician nodded. "We'll get him into the operating room right away." Turning to the patients who were still waiting, some of whom probably had broken bones, he said, "I'm sorry, guys. He's a priority case."

Sam knew that it must have been very hard for the doctor to say those words to people who might have been waiting for hours to be seen. And yet, such is the reality of hospital triage.

He watched as the Lucario known as Dan Fairfax was rushed into surgery to repair his wounds. It was a pretty grisly sight, and Sam knew there was a very real chance he might not make it.

Again, just like triage, this is how it is and this is how it goes. You can't save every life.

Sam would never know whether or not Dan would survive his ordeal. He wasn't allowed to enter the OR to find out.

About half a minute later, a receptionist in full PPE came running up to the ER's waiting room. Sam's heart stopped as he realized that this couldn't be good news.

"This hospital is now well past its capacity. We're going to have to start prioritizing certain patients over others; we simply can't save every life. We will be directing all patients to the field hospital at Central Park. It has to be this way; I don't like it any more than you do."

Those were cold, heartless words coming from a hospital receptionist, but sometimes, such as in a crisis like this one, you just have to be blunt. Not everyone is going to make it, but everyone needs to hear the truth.

Sam didn't have time to stick around to see the patients' reactions, those who would be denied care for their injuries. His mobile phone rang once again, and his exact thoughts were: Aw shit, here we go again.

In order to field the call, the young paramedic exited the hospital. He then answered. "Hello?"

"Sam, you're needed at the field hospital in Central Park. They want you to help stock it with the supplies needed to weather the storm."

He felt a large sigh of relief escape his body. Being in the back of the ambulance, having to think fast as to how to save a patient's life...he might have been good at it, but it was a stressful job nonetheless, one he wasn't paid nearly enough for.

As a paramedic working for the City of New York, it was his job to serve the people by any means necessary. If that meant transporting patients, then he did it. If it meant helping to set up a field hospital in Central Park, he would do it.

There was no hesitation. "I'll be there in five minutes."

Central Park, true to Sam's promise, was only a few minutes away on foot. Even though he hadn't been told the matter was urgent, the young man sprinted to the meadow where the field hospital was in the process of being set up. He knew he might get sweaty, and that this might not be sanitary, but he'd made a promise, and he did not intend to break it.

Ambulances were already arriving at the field hospital. From what Sam had been told, the field hospital could only accommodate two hundred patients at once, and there was no operating room. Therefore, only simple procedures could be performed at a patient's bedside.

I can't believe this. First I'm as happy as a paramedic can be, with a nice apartment, a great girlfriend, and well on my way to paying off my student loans. And now here I am, on the front lines of this nightmare.

Central Park was normally peaceful and quiet, an island of serenity in the midst of the city that never slept. Now, you could say good-bye to the silence and dance to the sirens that never ceased to sound.

Of course, I don't exactly feel like dancing.

LUCAS LEAWOOD, 19

The rest of the morning was uneventful by comparison.

Upon arriving back at my house, I whiled away the hours mainly by staring up at the ceiling. In a way, this was worse than being in the middle of a chaotic protest at City Hall, for, while the day dragged on, nothing was accomplished.

Had I been aware of the news that was coming, time would have flown by. It is a strange thing, but the passage of time seems to increase when you're dreading an upcoming event. This was no exception.

Right before lunch, Michaela entered my room without giving me any advance warning. At first, I was a little peeved by this; I wanted to vegetate in peace.

And then I saw her face. Her expression was half and half; half excited, half terrified. And that made me worry even more.

"What's going on, Michaela?" I asked her. "Can't I just have some me time here?"

My sister shook her head. "President Fiddlesticks will be giving an important announcement in five minutes. I think we should stay informed, shouldn't we?"

I couldn't argue with that, but if our goal was to be informed, surely we could do better than listen to someone like President Fiddlesticks...couldn't we?

"Fine" I replied curtly. "It's not like I have anything better to do. The last couple of hours have been pretty dull."

My father was evidently in the basement on a work call,and I knew better than to disturb him while he was working remotely. That was a mistake I'd made before, and I had lived to regret it. As for my mother, she was probably on a run around the neighborhood.

We sat down in front of the TV, the two of us, and Michaela turned it on. There was coverage of the empty podium in the White House press office, or whatever it was called. Any moment, the President would take the stage and roll out his new announcement.

Both of us waited with bated breath for the man to appear. When this finally happened, I felt no relief, for now was the moment of truth.

"Good afternoon, America. I hope you are all staying safe in this trying time. It's been trying for me as well, you know? But we're doing fabulous - we're doing a fabulous job. Believe me, I should know."

As the President spoke, he gestured to the press, as though to say, We have been proving all the haters wrong. I'm tackling this crisis like a competent leader, believe me.

I rolled my eyes at the screen. Yeah, right.

"The nation's most brilliant scientists and most talented researchers have been working nonstop since the mass transformation. All of them are working on one thing, and one thing only: A solution to the Pokemon plague."

The way the President emphasized the word plague really worried me. Clearly, the intended implication was that those who had transformed were somehow lesser than those who had remained human.

"Yes, yes, a very bad thing has happened to our country. My scientific advisors have told me that, while we have not yet seen any new transformations since 4:43 AM Eastern Time yesterday, we also do not have any evidence that this cannot occur."

"That sounds reasonable enough," Michaela said from beside me. "After all, there could be an incubation period of several days or even weeks. Only time will tell."

"Therefore", Fiddlesticks continued, "I will be signing an executive order shortly, Order 674 to be exact. This order will set up quarantine zones for those infected with this plague. All of the transformed individuals are expected to report to them on Monday morning."

They are going to take us hostage.

Even if it was ostensibly for a good cause, when you gave the government such broad emergency authority, there was no going back. Now, the cat was out of the bag, so to speak.

"Recall that this is for the greater good of society" the President said. "Believe me when I tell you all that I don't want to do this. I really don't. But hospitals all over the country are overwhelmed, and we don't want that to continue, do we?"

So your solution to hospitals being overwhelmed is to create Pokemon shelters that will no doubt become overwhelmed too? What kind of logic is that?

My face was beginning to get hot, and I started panting even though I hadn't exerted myself for some time. If I hadn't been a caged tiger now, I really would be in a couple of days.

"I will be signing the executive order, order number 674, in the Oval Office tonight" President Fiddlesticks said. "The transformed will remain in the quarantine zones until the danger has passed. As to when that will be, we don't have a concrete answer yet."

I turned off the TV; I couldn't handle it anymore. As I looked at my younger sister, I saw an immense amount of fear on her face.

"We can't let that happen," Michaela told me, a great amount of worry in her eyes. "Lucas, this isn't an ideal situation, but that doesn't give the government the right to lock us up like that. For all I know, that's what's happening to Mayor Almaty right now."

I froze right there, as though I were a movie that had been paused.

The new information from President Fiddlesticks had driven thoughts of Mayor Almaty out of my mind. What if…

I didn't even let myself finish that thought. Even for Fiddlesticks, that was something I didn't want to believe possible.

"I agree, we have to stop it. The question is, how?"

We sat in silence, both of us, for the next few minutes. I can't speak for my sister, but I assume she was pondering the question as well. How could you resist something like this without creating more chaos?

The last thing I wanted was chaos. It hadn't been that long since I'd experienced normal life, but I was already missing it very much.

Just then, the phone rang. Michaela sprang off of the couch and walked over to it. After looking at the number, my sister looked at me and said two words that I'd been dreading.

"It's Bradley."

I might not have hated him as much as I had yesterday, but he still wasn't exactly the first person I wanted to speak to. "Could you tell him I'm busy?"

Michaela rolled her vermilion eyes. "Let's be real, Lucas, he wouldn't buy it. You are going to talk to him and be civil."

With that, she put the phone on speaker mode and held it up to my mouth. "Hello. Is that you, Lucas?" That was unmistakably the voice of Bradley Clarion (which I recognized despite him now being a Blaziken), and it sounded fearful.

"Yes, it is" I replied, feeling a bit uneasy. "What's going on?"

There was a very brief pause, and then Bradley breathlessly said, "I have something to show you at my house. Please come over here, right away!"

I'll be honest with you: Part of me wanted to tell my former best friend to pound sand. Part of me wanted to ignore him and hang up. We might have forgiven each other, but that didn't mean I liked him.

But the largest part of me knew that I should help him with whatever problem he had. I had never believed in karma, but it was always better to do the right thing, even to people who had wronged you.

Besides, had he wronged me as much as it felt like at first? It wasn't as though he had intended to hurt my feelings; he just hadn't chosen his words as carefully as he could have.

"I'll be right there," I told him. "As soon as I can be."

After Bradley thanked me profusely, I hung up and told Michaela where I'd be going. She insisted that she wouldn't come with me, that I had to face Bradley without her by my side.

Before leaving the house, I took another long drink from the bathtub. No matter how many times I did this, it didn't get any less depressing or embarrassing. As with many other aspects of normal life, I couldn't wait to be able to drink out of a glass again like a regular human being.

The trip to the Clarion home was uneventful. The only thing worth noting is that I was panting and sweating like a beast; it was the hottest part of the day, and my fur didn't help matters.

Every so often, I passed by a human who was going for a walk, although they were careful to give me a wide berth, as though I had some kind of communicable disease.

To be fair, President Fiddlesticks wants us all to think it's contagious. Even if I don't like it, I don't exactly blame them either.

Eventually I reached Bradley's house. It was somewhat smaller than mine, but still looked like a rather nice place to live. We'd used to hang out together and play Wii or Wii U, or else play pretend and give each other different names. You know, ordinary carefree kid stuff.

Sadly, those days were long gone. Now I was just a white Growlithe, trying to stand on hind legs to reach the doorbell.

Fortunately, I didn't have to; almost as soon as I reached the front step, a Blaziken whom I recognized opened the door. This time, he didn't look happy.

"I'm so glad you're here, Lucas," he told me, although not in the excited tone he had used when we were younger. "I'm worried about something. More specifically, my twin sister."

Bradley Clarion had a fraternal twin sister named River. It was somewhat of an odd name for a human female, in my opinion, but I had the common sense not to mention it to her face.

Although I hadn't spent a lot of time with River, we got along reasonably well whenever we talked. It definitely wouldn't give me any pleasure to see her suffer.

"What about her?" I asked Bradley. "What happened?"

Even as I asked those questions, a thousand scenarios ran through my mind. Maybe she had disappeared just like Mayor Almaty. Maybe both of them were being held hostage somewhere. I dreaded the answer.

Bradley led me upstairs to a hallway, one where I had only ventured a few times in my life. Instead of leading me to his own bedroom, which was right next to the stairs, he showed me to a room farther down the hall.

In all the years I'd known Bradley, I had never been in this room. Clearly, when Mr. and Mrs. Clarion had been designing it, they'd chosen an aquatic theme to fit with his sister's name, meaning that the wallpaper had been painted with what looked like a cross section of a coral reef.

"River was a human when I left for City Hall this morning," Bradley told me. "I thought she had been spared the transformation, and I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief even though I was now a Blaziken."

Turning to his sister's bed, the Blaziken boy continued with, "Sadly, it seems that she didn't escape it entirely."

River is a character submitted to me by a friend on Discord. This person, so far as I know, does not have a FFN account, but their suggestion is much appreciated nonetheless. I was going to make this chapter a bit longer, but decided to end it here.

As to why this chapter came out a day early, let's just say that I don't want to be writing really far ahead of what I've posted. Feedback is still important. But with that, stay safe.