So, I'm alive.

I hope the rest of you are well. Things have been... busy on my end. On my third job since the pandemic, hoping it sticks. There's been family issues, the world feels kinda crazy, enough that I don't watch the news much at all anymore. Amidst all of this, finding a job, holding a job, settling into the place I just moved into before 2020 started, and now potentially working out buying a home for the first time. I feel bad that I missed undampening day and the nonsense chapter for April fools this year, on top of not having released a chapter in over a year.

Gotta to be honest that after working on this series for 10 years, then the virus and the move and job hunting, riots, fear, I kinda got burnt out. That's not to mean that I plan on quitting Poke Wars, I just needed time away from Ash, May, Paul and the legendaries. It's also not like I've been idle either. Been planning, lots of planning with the other writers, working out how the future of this series will pan out. I've also been partaking on an RP forum of an OC character going through the first 2 months of the undampening in the Kalos region. The events that take place there affect and may eventually tie into The Obedience.

So, yeah. Not sure how many of you are going to see this seeing as this arc isn't as popular are some of the others, but I wanted to get a little more of it done. Apologies for it being so short among other things. The time away has given me a few ideas for how to jump back into Kanto and I have to do a bit more research of a few things before I tackle Sinnoh again. Perhaps with the new games coming in I'll find some inspiration there.

I can't promise you that I'll be able to release the next chapter soon or even the next month. My hope is to not let another year pass by before I release another chapter. As I said I'm trying to figure everything out in universe and out of universe and it is my sincere hope that wherever you guys are, the situation is manageable. For those of you who still remember me, I thank you for your patience. For those of you who've given up on seeing this series continue, forgotten about me, or don't care anymore, I can't blame you for that considering my extended absence.

So, that's where I've been since the last undampening day. I pray all of you are well.

Fear.

Fear was something she had known for a long time; most of her life, when she really thought about it. Contrary to popular belief, Gligirl… no… Latoya Parker had plenty of fears. They weren't your normal, run-of-the-mill worries. She'd had those, conquered them. But those had been the easier ones.

Today, the battlefield was less than ideal.

Gligirl was in broad daylight, in an empty, foreign city. Her pursuer could potentially strike faster than she could physically perceive. She'd already keyed the Gli-Scar to fly to her, the issue being she'd need to stay put for a few seconds for the winch to drop her a line.

The primeape was not so generous.

She was staying ahead for now, but her stamina was already waning. If the primeape's snarls were any indication, it wasn't even winded. Something was going to give, and she didn't like her odds. Gligarangs and smoke grenades hadn't slowed it down.

Luckily, there were other gadgets in her arsenal. Practice. Patience. Planning. These were her tools, her sword and bow and shield against an army of fears.

Gligirl was gliding across city streets, jumping, climbing, and swinging between buildings. The beast seemed to ignore distance, clearing the same gaps and obstacles with simple jumps and hops. She could break from his line of sight for a second at most before he found her again.

Heights, bullets, bomb blasts: if she thanked her father for anything, it was the training to overcome those fears. Every action, every scenario, had moves and countermoves that could be exploited to bring the situation back under her control.

Latoya was terrified. Gligirl had a plan.

She skidded around a corner, stabbing the wall with a gligarang and using it to swing herself around. It started beeping the moment her hands left it.

What if your opponent has a knife, a gun, a Pokémon? Distract. Disarm. Disable. Can't do any of those? Change the situation until you can. Do what they don't want you to do. Be where they don't want you to be. Use psychology, the environment, or in the case of a Pokémon, its elemental weakness if you can.

Gligirl had managed a few steps when her visor suddenly polarized. Her helmet's audio filters weakened the deafening pitch of the flashbang into a keening whine. Shredding through the haze of noise came the frenzied howl of the Primeape, the sound of its footfalls whipped into a faster tempo.

Oh good, I made it angrier…

There were fears that no amount of planning seemed to fix. In fact, all the planning had made it worse.

Over the years, a new fear had crept into her skull, making its throne at the top of her list. She blew it off at first, it was nothing more than a distraction.

But, days slid into months. Months stretched into years. Every crime bust and night patrol was just another spoonful of life she'd fed her inner demons. Every feeding made it bigger and stronger until Latoya couldn't ignore the question anymore.

Will I be wearing this costume when I die?

Gligirl risked a glance back at the pig monkey Pokémon, its eyes scrunched tightly together. Its flailing arms were brown blurs, the slightest brush with the concrete walls pulverizing that section to dust. She made a mental note of the range of its limbs and kept running towards the building's edge. The thrashing culminated in its upraised arms slamming down onto the rooftop.

Gligirl felt the roof, no, the entire building, begin to shake. Cracks were snaking out of the plume of debris and down the building's sides. The primeape's screeches were fainter now, enough that she risked a glance back to see the ape had disappeared through a hole in the roof. Its cries filtered through the floors below. The distraction cost her. Sections of rooftop were already slipping out beneath her feet as she ran and jumped over to the adjacent warehouse.

She hit the next roof and rolled, hearing the neighboring building collapse into a pile of rubble. The cloud of debris had been kicked up so high she could make out the Gli-Scar's silhouette moving towards her, the grappling line already descending.

Her arm shot out with enough force her joints popped angrily, fingers already curling around the cord when something burst out of the building's wreckage. The length of cord shook violently out of her grip. Latoya glanced up to see the Primeape, caked with dust and debris, hanging halfway up the cable to the still-cloaked Gli-Scar.

The primeape was breathing heavily, looking no worse for wear despite having dropped a building on itself. Its brow was furrowed and throbbing like an angry nest of maggots beneath its skin. It twisted itself around the cord, eyes closed but its nose turned up to the sky and noisily sucking in air. Gligirl didn't move, didn't breathe. She worried her own mutinous heartbeat would give her away.

Her patience was punished. The beast froze mid-sniff, abruptly twisting its body to face her, its eyes still scrunched closed and caked with bits of plaster.

Some part of her argued that there'd come a day where she could hang up the outfit, join the fold of society, share in the beautifully mundane worries like taxes and groceries. She had gone back to her father's "Hall of Fame" in the middle of the night, stared at the costumes of her late teammates for hours, each one held in a glass casing as if it was something to admire or aspire to. Latoya wouldn't, couldn't smile and pretend her father's twisted butterfly collection was beautiful.

Things had been escalating in Gotum City, and now, it seemed, the world at large. The chance at a healthy and peaceful retirement grew fainter every day. She'd be damned if she handed the mantle to someone else. It needed to end with her. No one else should have to continue what her father started. But then, how? How did she kill her father's fledgling legacy without losing him and herself in the process?

Spittle and powdered building sprayed from what Gligirl could only imagine was its mouth beneath all the fur. Latoya burst into a full sprint, flicking a gligarang at the warehouse roof between her feet. She moved not a second too soon, the primeape slamming into the space she occupied just a heartbeat earlier.

The burst of light and smoke swallowed the sound of crumpled steel as the roofing gave way. Screams spilled out from the breach, faint and distant now but no less angry; no, not angry… hurt.

The Gli-Scar's cable swung back into her midst, just within her reach. Her arm was already lifting, hand gripping it tightly. All she'd need to do was yank it twice and the motor would reel her back.

Except the screams had stopped, staying her hand.

No killing. Of the countless rules her father had devised on how to be a hero, that one had been drilled into her head from day one. No matter how bad the thug or criminal was, there was always a way to resolve things without taking a life. It was one of the few rules she prided herself in having kept for three years, even when her last encounter with Vivillain had brought her to the edge of breaking it.

Gligirl released the cable, peering down the hole as the last whisps of smoke started to curl away. She noticed the metal rafters and dove for them, making no noise as she landed and hid behind a ventilation shaft. Her head peeked out, finding the primeape with ease. A shard of bone poked out from its mangled leg.

A tiny part of her pitied the beast. Yes, it had scared the living hell out of her; yes it would've done worse to her if it had gotten its hands on her, but it was an animal. A creature prone to rage and likely still going off the rules of nature. She was in its territory, so it chased her.

Latoya watched as it dragged itself across the floor, shoving aside the various boxes in its way. Several of them spilled open, spilling bandages and first aid kits onto the ground. The primeape swiped them aside to drag itself another few inches. The irony was not lost on Latoya.

In fact, the sheer number of boxes in the warehouse was astounding. They lined the walls all the way to the rafters. Massive refrigerating units hummed along the opposite side of the room hooked up to several generators.

By the time her gaze drifted back to the primeape it was now off the ground, suspended from the gray hand that held it by the wrist. A second hand was pressed tightly against its face, muffling the screams the machamp had grown tired of hearing. The primeape's free arm managed a few pitiful swings, slapping the machamp's pecs and only succeeding in deepening the Superpower Pokemon's frown. The hitmonlee and hitmonchan weren't far behind, watching with grim curiosity.

The machamp squeezed down on the ape's face, its eyes bulging between its gray fingers. Latoya looked away and heard only wet snaps and something splatter.

By the time the wet thud came, she forced herself to look back, seeing the primeape's scarlet stained body tossed aside. The machamp flicked the gore off its hands and headed out of the warehouse, his cronies joining suit.

As the body bled onto the warehouse floor, Latoya stared, unblinking. The primeape's corpse, somehow, had sprawled across the floor much the same way the smaller human from the fights had, like a sick pantomime. The world had changed.

Latoya wasn't sure how long she stood there; if it was a few minutes or hours. A tiny part of her brain screamed for her to flee while she still could, that she would be next if she didn't get back to the Gli-Scar. Another part screamed that if she did, they would hear her and she would suffer the same fate. Exhaustion and fear eventually won. She slipped out of the warehouse as silently as she could, and yanked the grappling line twice.

Gliscor waited for her inside, just beyond the decontamination chamber. He wrapped her in a full body hug, but she ignored him, dragging them both to the command console at the front of the ship. The world felt muted, filtered. The firm body around her was pleading, but wasted. Latoya didn't make a single noise as she keyed the jet to take her back to Gotum.

Getting Ricky away from his parents had been the easy part. Being one of Gotum's finest doctors and taking part in the kid's physical therapy had huge credibility points attached. Credibility didn't help much after that: Tim's workshop was outside city limits and, for all the tech the man had designed, apparently accessibility had not been high on his list of priorities. Nate should have timed their trek down the endless flights of stairs to Tim's workshop, a 130-pound teen draped over his shoulder and a wheelchair dangling from his arms. He would have carved it into Tim's goddamn tombstone: "12 minutes, 28 seconds. Elevator."

Tim's door had apparently recognized Ricky, designating him as Hero 03 Weedle Boy. A look at the kid's face and he could tell the title still stung. Ricky had long since abandoned any hope of returning to his rooftop gymnast days with that moniker. Though not all hope seemed to have been lost. Wheeling the kid up to the suit containment chambers and letting it scan him had brought about some interesting developments.

Tim "Herocross" Entemen was either a paranoid madman or a genius. To his credit, Nate was leaning more towards the latter.

For one, the scan had registered his physical disability and was adjusting the suit's programming. Some passwords, a retinal and fingerprint scan later, the compartment had opened up and began to assemble the suit around the boy with several pairs of mechanical arms. Much like his own Caterpie Man helmet, Tim had created a higher tech version of the Weedle Boy headgear with he intent to have it interface with the other exoskeletons in the other containers.

The first armor set was, rather fittingly, a Kakuna exosuit that interlocked with his helmet and enclosed around the rest of his body.

"This is the coolest thing I have ever done, and I was a hero!" While still relegated to the wheelchair, Ricky seemed to be having the time of his life, doing little poses around the nearest mirror and admiring every inch of the armor Tim had prepared for him. But that wasn't the end of Tim's gifts.

The second container behind the first had yet another armor set, even bulkier than the Kakuna exosuit. Ricky easily unlocked the next set, bouncing in his wheelchair until the mechanical arms picked him back up again. Nate couldn't help but let out a low whistle when the armor pieces slowly formed what looked like a miniature Beedrill-themed Mecha.

Ricky's digitized voice came through the helmet's speakers, the crimson glass over his helmet glowing with each word. "I think I'd like to take back what I said earlier. This is the coolest thing I've ever done."

What kind of opposition was Tim expecting when he built these things? Nate thought back to the day Latoya had entered the fray. The giant spinarak mech had strung up Mr. Parker in front of everyone. Was Tim expecting something like that to happen again? Even if it didn't happen, it seemed like a lot of energy and time went into making and protecting something that had no guarantee of ever being used.

"And to think that there's still another level after this," Nate motioned towards the remaining chamber that held the next set of armor pieces. The suit's mechanical thorax hummed and glowed, the entirety of the armor lifting off the ground and hovering in place.

"Holy woah," was all Ricky managed, the suit floating across the room and stopping just before it collided with a wall. Nate couldn't help but smile. Being in a giant bee mechsuit hadn't rendered Ricky speechless, apparently. The beedrill armor shifted again, faster this time, soaring across the room. Its force summoned a gust of wind, knocking over the empty wheelchair.

For all the gripes she had against her city, a palpable sense of relief washed over Latoya upon seeing the gray speck on the horizon. The ride back had been a silent one. None of Gliscor's prompting had shaken her out of it. All Latoya wanted to do was land, find her bed, strip down, and fall into a long and preferably dreamless sleep.

And yet, all the evil stars in the universe conspired and aligned in the form of a crackling radio, decidedly dead set on ruining what remained of her evening. Latoya expected Nate or her father's voice to come through, but the feed kept breaking. Even at her current distance from the city, the voice should've been clearer. As she drew closer to Gotum, words came through the white noise, spoken by a voice she didn't recognize.

"-ello is an-…-ody out th-…lease if-…-one can…-ear this we-…ave wounded an-…-eed hel-… my coor-…-ates are-…"

Latoya listened intently as the message began to loop, different parts of the transmission making it through the white noise. By the fourth repetition she managed to get the full coordinates and muted it. She sank deeper into her seat for a breath, then dipped her head back, craving a pillow to scream into. Her eyes drifted away from the radio and back to the horizon.

Gotum was right there. In less than an hour, she could be back in her bed, letting her exhaustion knock her out. Latoya eyed the dashboard, looking for any other excuse she could find.

It's too far, she assured herself. Her hand was already plugging the coordinates into the system. She prayed to any force in the universe that would listen to make her excuse a reality. The universe was not in a giving mood.

The coat of pollen over the Gli-Scar made the ship's stealth mode a waste of energy until she reached city limits. Without the added power drain of having it on, the ship had ample time to recharge by the time she reached the city. Much to Latoya's dismay, the ship had just enough power to make the trip north where the coordinates led.

Latoya groaned, gripping the arms of her chair until they creaked. She didn't dare look to Gliscor for support. Years of being around her father had given him a terminal case of heroism.

I could just ignore it. Just pretend I heard nothing. She knew that wouldn't work. Gliscor had heard the transmission as well. If she flaked, the aeroscorp was duty-bound to let one of the other heroes know. Even if she demanded his silence, the transmission would keep playing. Nowadays her father spent the better part of his days in the Gli-cave. It wouldn't be long before he heard the same transmission and, in her absence, he would have his excuse to don the cape and cowl.

There was also the pesky little voice in her head, the one growing more and more petulant every time she wore the mask. Wasn't it her duty to go out and help? If she had the means to do lend her aid, to save someone, was it not her responsibility? The body buried beneath the pollen, the battered and broken men of Durdin City were still fresh in her mind. She had been too late to save them.

No!

Latoya slammed her fists against the chair, making Gliscor flinch and stare at her. She violently pushed herself out of her seat, walking frantically towards the end of the jet.

No, No, NO!

Those deaths were not her fault. They weren't her responsibility. Gotum was. Anything that happened beyond it was not her business. Gligirl couldn't police all of Johto.

Latoya had paced back and forth a dozen times already. Gotum had grown from a speck to the size of her fist.

He'll go. You know he'll go if you try to rest. If you leave this be, it would be the opening he's been looking for.

Did she have the strength to check it? Yes, but that wasn't the point. Both of her previous encounters had nearly gotten her killed. This wasn't capes and catchphrases anymore. Lives were now hanging in the balance.

A part of her argued that fact alone should've made it easier for her to decide. This was what real heroes like police and firemen did. How was her training different from theirs?

Except I never wanted to be a hero. That was never my dream.

But then, if she didn't go, her father would go out and live his dream. If her last two encounters were a reliable metric, He would die for it.

Latoya dropped down into her chair, keying the stealth systems of the Gli-Scar now that they were close enough to the city.

"Gli-Scar, set auto pilot to new coordinates I just punched in." Gligirl deflated, feeling the gentle pat of Gliscor's claw on her shoulder. She didn't bother shrugging it off, she didn't have the strength for it. She'd save it for whatever fresh hell awaited her on the lower half of Route 32.