Before we begin this chapter, I'd just like to announce that this story is no longer considered PercentVerse canon. This does not mean I'll stop writing it; I simply have it marked as AU. Just thought I'd put that out there.

Thank you all for supporting this story. This chapter will answer a lot of questions, so buckle up. It's quite a ride.

LUCAS LEAWOOD, 19

After that fateful night, I can say that the feeling of teleportation is one I know, and it's not one I wanted to experience ever again.

For those unaware, it feels as though your brain tries to go somewhere else, whereas your body, including your stomach, tries to stay where you were previously. It's very disorienting and nauseating, not pleasant in the least.

I found myself having to hold back vomit by the time I could see clearly again. I was so queasy that I closed my eyes, even though that's apparently not supposed to help when you feel as though you're about to hurl.

When the feeling finally subsided, I found myself in a rather...interesting place.

I was in the middle of what looked like a snowy field, with a castle far away in the distance. This stood in stark contrast to the summer night I'd just been yanked out of.

Soon, however, I realized that it wasn't cold like an actual snow-covered field would be, and I realized that it was not snow, but fog and mist (I didn't even care to know the difference between the two.) The golden Growlithe who had led me here stood some thirty yards away, looking at me disapprovingly.

You are going to have to adjust to this, Lucas Leawood. There may very well be more teleportation in the future. Improvise, adapt, overcome, that's what they say.

My own thoughts were: Improvise, adapt, overcome? I prefer outwit, outplay, outlast, thanks.

I wasn't going to argue with the spirit, though. I knew, somewhere deep inside, that I had been brought here for a reason. Did everything happen for a reason? Perhaps not, but I somehow knew this had.

At any rate, what I did say was, "Sorry about that, sir...or ma'am? I don't know what to call you."

The golden tiger let out a hearty laugh, one that could have melted the world's largest glacier in a matter of seconds.

Ah, youth these days with all manner of pronouns. Not that I'm advocating for bigotry, but it doesn't matter what pronouns I use. Those are irrelevant to the task at hand.

"And what is the task at hand?" I asked, trying to remain calm. "No offense, but why did you bring me here?"

For a few terrifying seconds, the spirit didn't respond. It simply wagged its tail and stuck its tongue out as if to catch nonexistent snowflakes.

Isn't it obvious, Lucas? You need to learn how to fight like a tiger. You need the heart of a lion, too.

"The...the heart of a lion? But I'm a tiger, aren't I?"

The spirit rolled its eyes. Not the LITERAL heart, the...you know what? It doesn't really matter. By the end of your training with me, I expect you to possess at least some level of those two attributes.

I blurted out, against my own better judgment, the first question that came to my mind. "How long will I train for?"

The golden Growlithe narrowed its eyes. You will train until I am satisfied, and you need not worry about running out of time, for this place is what is known as a time hollow.

I felt my pupils dilate in bewilderment. "A time hollow?"

While you are in my realm, time will not pass in the mortal world. You can live an entire lifetime, perhaps the equivalent of several lifetimes, in the immortal world, and when you return, not a second will have passed in your realm.

All of that was a lot to take in. I'd never been a religious person myself; truth be told, I hadn't given the supernatural much thought. Now, just like so much in the mortal world, everything had changed within my mind.

Anybody who's held one worldview for their entire life, particularly as it pertains to the metaphysical, knows how difficult it can be to tear it all down and build it back up again. The Big Event had forced me to re-evaluate what I believed.

"So what happens now?" I asked the spirit.

I am going to teach you how to fight like a Growlithe. I hope you have the strength, because you're going to need it.

I had been tempted to respond that I was exhausted from running to the park in the first place. However, all of a sudden, I began to feel reinvigorated; perhaps that was one of the powers of this place.

As it turned out, there were some moves I was good at, like Howl and Bite. They really weren't that complicated; just like doing those actions would have been normally, except done with more intensity than usual, as well as with greatly increased focus.

The Fire-based moves, on the other hand, were a lot more difficult. I recalled going camping on one occasion, during which I'd tried to make fire by rubbing two sticks together. It had taken well over an hour, but I'd eventually managed it.

If it had been that hard to start fire using human methods, I didn't see how it would be possible for me to produce flames just by willing them into existence. Yes, the spirit seemed to do it with ease, but that didn't mean I could.

Lucas, focus on your goal. Nothing in the world exists right now, other than you and your goal. That is the only thing that matters.

I practiced Flame Wheel for what felt like an hour or more. Of course, if the golden Growlithe was to be believed (and I didn't see any reason why not), time didn't pass here. I could practice for as long as I wanted, and I wouldn't lose any time in the real world.

No. The MORTAL world, I corrected myself. This was going to be a hard paradigm shift to get used to.

I grew increasingly irritated by the difficulty of the task at hand. I saw the spirit out of the corner of my eye, looking at me with an expression that can only be described as wanting.

I'm letting this spirit down. Am I letting myself down too?

Finally, I couldn't control my frustration any longer. I whipped my tail around, spinning and spinning my body as though I were a top. I grew dizzy quickly, and hot, and the air around me was soon thick with white flames.

White flames?

"I did it!" I exclaimed, realizing what had just happened. I had conquered the first technique that the spirit wanted me to master, and I couldn't be more pleased with myself.

Of course, that feeling was short-lived.

Congratulations, Lucas Leawood. One down, five more to go.

Fortunately, the other moves weren't nearly as difficult after I'd learned Flame Wheel. Even the ones involving summoning fire were simple enough now that I knew the trick. Sometimes pent-up anger and frustration really can be productive!

Upon learning the sixth and final move, Roar (also the easiest one on the list), I leaped to the side and began to do just that. It was very satisfying, and I briefly felt as though I could take on the world. I could do anything I set my mind to, no matter how daunting it might be.

Well done. Of course, those are a few things you'll need to be able to do, but not everything. You have the techniques down, but the question is: Do you have the bravery you will need in order to face the crossroads ahead?

Now, I had never considered myself a courageous person. I'd done some brave things in my life, but nothing too crazy. All of that is to say: I didn't think so.

"I don't know" I replied sheepishly, trying to sound as polite as possible while also being as honest as possible; it was hard to marry the two. "I really don't."

Of course you do, the golden Growlithe told me in that soothing voice it had. You are braver than you believe and stronger than you think. Most importantly of all, you need to have hope.

"Hope?"

Yes, Lucas. Hope can move mountains. It can work miracles. Without hope, nothing good would ever happen, either in your world or in mine.

That was a rousing speech, and yet I still felt anxious about what was to come. As the spirit began to fade into another plume of golden light, it smiled at me.

In about a minute, you will be ejected from the immortal world. You are not supposed to be here right now, not while you are still alive and well. If there's anything you want to say to me, I'd advise you to think of it quickly.

There's another thing about me: I'm not great at thinking on my feet. I can't really think clearly under pressure. While I was fairly sure there was something I wanted to ask the spirit, I couldn't think of it, and time was running short.

Eventually, I felt my essence dissolve and the teleportation began. I closed my mouth this time, to make sure that I didn't throw up.

This time, however, it didn't work.

As soon as I landed in the park, I started heaving. At first, nothing came up, but I soon saw the substandard pizza I'd had for dinner last night.

No, not last night. Tonight. I didn't know what time it was, but it was still pitch-black outside. It very well could be that no time had passed while I was in the immortal realm, just like the golden Growlithe had told me.

And then it occurred to me. Not what time it was, but rather what I'd wanted to ask.

On Thursday morning, my sister had told me that the mayor of Wildebush had vanished. Nobody had seen him since he'd gone for a midnight bike ride, and the whole city, perhaps the whole country, were scratching their heads.

In hindsight, I'm not sure that the golden Growlithe would have answered my question. Perhaps, much like its identity, the answer wasn't something I needed to know. But it was certainly something I wanted to know.

I should have asked the spirit where Mayor Almaty is.

JEREMY ALMATY, 45

It felt as though I had only been out for a few seconds, much like when they put you under for surgery. Nonetheless, the stiffness in my joints told me that more time had passed than I would have guessed.

My head was spinning like a broken carnival ride. My legs ached as though I had the flu. And, worst of all, every deep breath hurt like hell in my chest.

Where am I? And how did I get here?

I opened my eyes, which was a big mistake. It caused a searing pain in my forehead, and I was forced to shut them again. Everything was painful to process.

And so I tried to list everything I knew in my mind. Perhaps then I would gain some clarity over my current situation.

My name is Jeremy Almaty. I'm forty-five years old, and, for the last two years, I've been the mayor of a small city known as Wildebush. Yesterday...or was it only yesterday? I might have been out for a while.

Anyway, the world recently went to hell. There was a mass transformation of humans into creatures called Pokemon. I gave a speech...the most important speech of my life...city councilor Derek Yootube turned into one at four in the morning. Man, I hate waking up at 4 AM.

At midnight on Thursday, I went for a bike ride to try and decompress. While I was out there, I hit a pothole...fell to the ground. Hurt like hell, but not as much as this hurts right now.

And now...am I in the hospital? That's probably where I should be.

I opened my eyes again; this time, it caused me far less pain. Looking around the room, I was able to answer at least one of my questions.

If this was a hospital room, it certainly wasn't a good one. No medical devices could be found, but, more importantly, the room appeared airless and unclean. The walls were metallic in color, and a fine layer of dust covered the floor.

While I couldn't see any stairs or anything to confirm my guess, I was fairly certain that this room was underground. That's what it felt like to me, but it wasn't just what it felt like; it was also what it looked like.

Just then, there was a dinging noise from what sounded like the other side of the wall. I watched as part of the wall receded and was replaced by a view of a man I didn't recognize.

This man was probably a good five or ten years older than me, with graying hair and a thin beard. He wore a simple navy blue uniform with a small circular pin on it.

The pin was an item I thought I recognized from that TV show my son watched. It was half red, half white, with a small circle in the middle. In fact, I was pretty sure it was from Pokemon.

A...what was it called? A Pokeball?

"Good evening, Mayor Almaty", the man said, emphasizing my title as though mocking me for it. "Awake at last, I see."

My heart began pounding. "How long...how long was I out?" I asked. It was a rather cliche thing to say, but right now, all I really wanted were answers.

The man in the navy uniform laughed, but it was more of a cackle than a good-natured laugh you might enjoy with friends over pizza and beer.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out" he hissed. "I will tell you my name, though. And please, remember my name; you would be wise to call me by this name, or suffer my...displeasure."

For some reason, a saying I'd heard in my International Relations course in college, a quarter of a century ago, came back to me. The strong do what they will, and the weak suffer what they must.

"I am Cameron Coventry, the leader of Team Iron," the man replied, sneering at me. "I've heard all about you, and now that you have learned some of our secrets, we can't have you going back to how you once were. So…".

Are they going to kill me? No, if they wanted me dead, I would have been murdered while I was unconscious. No reason to go through all this trouble.

During the next few minutes of silence, I thought about a number of people.

I thought of my son, David. He was twelve years old, so innocent and carefree...until the Big Event had occurred, that is. Now he'd been forced to grow up too fast, as he was now without his father. Maybe forever.

I thought of my wife, Natalie. When I'd first run for mayor of Wildebush, she'd been hesitant about the idea. She didn't want me to gain too much attention, didn't want there to be threats against my life like happened to so many other politicians these days. I only wish I had taken her advice.

I thought of all the people of Wildebush. Those who had voted for me to be mayor (and even those who hadn't) were all counting on me to help them through this time of need. If I didn't return to them alive, who would take over? It would be one thing if I'd died of natural causes during peacetime, but this was something completely different.

A few minutes later, a couple things happened in a very short span of time. If this had been a movie, you could almost miss it if you blinked at the wrong moment.

Two armed guards, buff men built like lions, burst into the room. Both wore bullet-proof vests and carried batons, so they looked rather like police officers trying to break up a riot. However, these were no police officers; they were terrorists, and I don't use that word lightly.

Each of them grabbed one of my arms and shoved me into what looked like a closet of sorts. And it was there that I felt my body begin to change shape.

Compared to some of the other transformations that have been described in the pages of this book, this one wasn't that painful. It felt as though I were being squeezed inward, and a few of my bones altered their shape, but other than that, not much happened.

All of the above happened in less than a minute, and when the door opened again, I saw that the armed guards, who had previously been about my height of 5 feet, 10 inches, looked like giants. They were at least twice the height that they had been before.

Wait a minute...they're not TWICE my height. I'm HALF their height!

I don't know what tipped me off about that; perhaps it was because I'd felt my own body shrink. Then again, it could have been a side effect of watching the guards grow taller. But the simplest explanation is usually the right one.

I was tempted to yell a list of obscenities, words that I can't possibly write here, but I stopped myself from doing so by remembering that these people had much more power over me than I did over them. As angry as I was, I couldn't risk their wrath.

"So...would you like a look in the mirror?" one of the guards asked me. "You want to see your new form?"

I tried to say no, but I figured they'd just force me to anyways. They'd had no problem shoving me into this closet, after all, so shoving me in front of a mirror would be pretty trivial.

Besides, when I spoke, I heard the sound "Squirtle!" come out, whatever that meant. I realized then that the situation had escalated further.

I was dragged in front of a mirror on the wall, one I hadn't noticed before. And it was then that I felt as though I'd lost all of my dignity.

Perhaps this is what it feels like for all of the transformed. If you don't have your own body anymore, what DO you have left?

Looking back at me was what looked like a large turtle with a blue head and brown eyes. Standing on my hind legs, I was about three feet tall, at most.

The worst part was that, if I'd seen a child turn into this species, I would have considered it cute. But a forty-five-year-old mayor of Wildebush? That was just demeaning all around.

This is sickening.

LUCAS LEAWOOD, 19

If I were supposed to be extra-brave after my encounter with the golden Growlithe, it didn't happen instantly.

It's a little embarrassing to admit, but, to some extent, I was afraid of the dark, even with my vision more acute than it had been before. I never walked around in the forest at night for obvious reasons.

By the time I got home, the adrenaline had started to wear off. It was now one in the morning according to the clock above the microwave, which made me more confident that the spirit had been telling the truth about time.

The microwave...how nice would it be to use it once more?

After another drink of water from the bathtub, I climbed into bed before realizing just how gross it was to sleep in my own sweat. Somehow, it had not evaporated in the time I'd been away.

Fuck this. I'll sleep on the floor instead.

It took some doing, but I eventually managed to curl into a comfortable position. It wasn't much longer before I drifted off to sleep, hoping against hope that I wouldn't dream.

Of course, because I have the worst luck in the world, fate was not kind to me that night. Seconds after I managed to doze off, I sank into a nightmare.

I found myself, once more, in a news studio. I couldn't tell whether this was CNN, MSNBC, Fox, or what have you. All I knew was that the anchors appeared both physically and emotionally exhausted, as though they hadn't gotten any sleep in a long time.

"Over the last few days, as we have been covering on our show, the city that never sleeps has become the city where the sirens never sleep. New York City has become the epicenter of this disaster."

Hmmm...I wonder which disaster they're referring to.

Of course, it didn't take a genius to know the answer. In a world where so many people had seen their lives totally destroyed in a moment, there was nothing else to talk about. Nothing else worth covering for the news media.

"All over the city, hospitals are fully booked; some patients are being treated in hallways, simply because there are not enough beds to go around. The mayor of New York, Mayor Sultan, has declared a state of emergency and ordered a lockdown of all but essential businesses."

On the screen behind the anchors, a list of businesses considered essential was shown. These included grocery stores, pharmacies, government work, and of course, hospitals.

Yep. This crisis isn't happening "somewhere else." It's happening right here at home.

"In addition, the number of additional transformations subsequent to the original event has now hit 1,167, according to local reports on the ground in each of the fifty states. This number is only those who have suffered this fate in the United States; other countries are not included in this tally."

I remembered reading that the United States only had about 4% of the world's population; as many as thirty thousand more people could have transformed since the Big Event. Compared to Earth's total population, that might have been a drop in the bucket, but I reminded myself that these were real people as well.

It's also worth noting that in this dream, I didn't really have a "body", so to speak. What I mean by that is, I felt somehow disconnected from it all, even though I was acutely aware of the events at the same time.

"President Fiddlesticks will be making another announcement in the morning, as the CDC will be issuing new guidelines. We can only hope that Americans continue to stay safe and take every precaution to avoid being injured."

The screen behind the reporters showed a long line of ambulances outside a New York City hospital, sirens blaring louder than bells. It was a noise that filled my head up and seemed to get louder and louder.

Inside the hospital, the scene was horrific. A Lucario, whose chest spike had been bashed in, being carried inside by a group of paramedics. A large crowd of patients inside the ER's waiting room. Nurses rushing around, trying to prioritize patients who were the most critical.

The anchor, a woman with short hair, continued speaking. This time, she was using a far graver voice, one that made it sound like she was speaking directly to the American people. Well, to some extent, I suppose she is.

"I want to emphasize that this footage is from Thursday morning. The situation has only deteriorated since then, and is now so bad that cameras aren't allowed inside the hospitals anymore. Nurses have to focus all of their energy on saving patients."

The scene on the TV shifted, showing a field in what I realized was Central Park. Although I'd never been there myself, I knew that the field was normally not very crowded, as well as fairly pristine. (Well, as pristine as a field can be in the middle of the Big Apple.)

The field was almost unrecognizable now. A series of tents had been erected on it, with paramedics, doctors, nurses, and other workers coming in and out of said tents.

This is a field hospital.

I'd heard stories of field hospitals being used during wartime, in situations where hospitals were either too overwhelmed to take care of everyone who needed it, or maybe if they didn't have medical facilities anywhere nearby. I associated the practice with mass tragedy; which, to be fair, it is.

Perhaps this is some of my American exceptionalism kicking in here, but I'd never thought something like this would be happening in my own country.

"What you're looking at is a field hospital set up in Central Park" the anchor said, confirming what I already knew. "They are treating both humans and Pokemon who need medical care, but they do not have infinite capacity."

Turning directly to the camera, and presumably to the audience as well, she made the following plea to her viewers:

"I'm not a public health expert, nor do I dictate public policy in the least. But I do know this: If things continue to escalate, even field hospitals will not be sufficient to save lives.

"Please, for the love of God and everything that is holy in this world, stay home as much as you can. We will get through this; we just need to be safe. If you love your city, if you love this country, you will do whatever it takes to keep people healthy and safe. Honor the lion-hearted courage of our frontline workers, and support them by staying home."

That was the last thing I heard before fading into wakefulness once more.

I love this chapter, as well as the title I gave it. A lion is actually my sona; a friend of mine drew a ref sheet, which is my new profile picture both here and on Discord. Speaking of Discord, feel free to add me whenever.

That's about it. Stay safe, everyone, and support our brave frontline workers in real life. They truly are lion-hearted. See you guys next time!