Start Time: 5d 8h 33m
~·~
I woke up.
My head ached. My body felt numb. What had happened? I felt the floor. Hard tiles. I was still in the Pokémon Center. Bright lights glared from above; it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Still lying down, I looked around. Oddish and Dux were trying to stand up, looking as dazed as I felt. Digrat stretched and yawned, sitting upright. Pidgeot was more awake; he stared, wide-eyed, at the crowd nearby.
"Is he okay?" someone asked.
"He's standing up!" someone said.
People had gathered around… someone. Red. I saw him, now, slowly standing up. Very slowly. Moving smoothly, steadily, without any sudden lurches. Was that really Red?
The crowd parted. Some left; a few stayed. I saw Red more clearly now. He was standing perfectly still. Like a statue. I couldn't believe my eyes. Red was standing still. Was I dreaming?
"Are you okay?" a woman asked him. "How do you feel?"
"Down," said Red. He stepped toward me.
"You feel down? You're sick?"
"Right." He stepped right.
"Where are your parents?"
"Left." He stepped left.
"They left?"
"Right." He stepped right.
Others returned to their seats. This was, they decided, not their business; and in typical Kantoan fashion, that made it invisible to them. Even the kind lady gave up on Red eventually. The seven of us—Red and his team—were alone in the middle of the Pokémon Center.
"Left," he muttered—barely a whisper. Moving very slowly, he took a small step left. Everything about him seemed wrong. His eyes were so… lifeless.
"How long, Flareon?" said Pidgeot. "For how long have you plotted to betray us?"
He was glaring daggers at Flareon. Flareon stared back—but her eyes held no malice. She was happy. I'd never detected so much satisfaction from her.
"I betrayed no one," said Flareon. "You should be thanking me. I just saved this team."
"You conspired with the Dome."
"Indeed. Had I not done so, we would have been stuck in that maze forever. Someone had to take action."
"Left," Red muttered. I stared at him, and listened to the Mob. The more I understood, the more horrified I became.
"I don't feel so good," Digrat said, frowning.
"Flareon," Oddish said, her face scrunched up anxiously, "what did you do?"
"What needed to be done," said Flareon. "I bestowed Red with the power of the Dome. I cured him."
"This is no cure," I said darkly.
"Yeah," said Dux, "look at him. He's like a frickin' zombie."
"Down," Red muttered. He stepped.
"Yes," said Flareon, "look at him. He picks a direction, then he goes in that direction. Do you see any random flailing? Do you see him running every which way? No. He is in control of his own body now. The Dome has given him a second chance."
"I don't understand," said Pidgeot. "How did you come to obtain the Dome's power?"
"You were wrong about the Fire Stone. It was not cursed. It was blessed—blessed by the Dome. I did not realize this until I used it. As I evolved, I felt the Dome's power flowing through me. I could have rejected it… but I understood, at that moment, that this was the role I was meant for. Choosing that Fire Stone was no coincidence. This is all part of the Dome's plan. I embraced the Dome, and it accepted me as its disciple."
"More like its False Prophet," Dux growled.
Flareon ignored him. "When the Helix Fossil was deposited, the Dome's power increased within me tenfold. At first, its words were vague whispers; but with the Helix gone, I heard the Dome loudly and clearly. Only then did I learn of my task."
"You liar!" said Dux. "You said the Helix Fossil was just a dumb rock!"
"So the Helix does have power," I said.
"Not power, no," said Flareon. "Chaos. I did not lie. The Helix Fossil is a distraction. A waste of time. Red takes it out, worships it, and accomplishes nothing. It is the very symbol of the chaos we have pointlessly endured. The Dome will put an end to that nonsense."
"You fool," said Pidgeot. I'd never seen him so distraught. "You have no idea what you've inflicted upon us."
"I have inflicted order. If you cannot accept it, that is your own misfortune."
Red was at the door now. "Left," he said. He walked to the left of the door.
"Something's not right," Digrat said, paying as little attention as usual. "Why is Red acting so weird?"
"Democracy," I answered.
Everyone looked at me.
"Red is not one person," I continued. "Tens of thousands of souls—the Mob—are competing for control. Before, Red felt all of their actions—all of their inputs—simultaneously. He was pulled in a thousand directions at once. In other words, anarchy.
"However, the method of control has changed. Now there is a filter. Most voices are stifled. Only a single command—the most popular—can influence Red at any given time. All others are rendered irrelevant. In other words, democracy."
"That is a succinct way to describe it," said Flareon.
"Oh, shut up," I snapped. I had been holding back my anger—trying to remain analytical—but now I let it loose. "You think you can just barge into our team and dictate how we do things? You think you can just change everything without consulting us? No one asked for this. Not one of us. And you forced it on us, like you're the big boss around here. You had no right."
"Right," said Red. He walked to the right of the door.
"You are smart, Drowzee," said Flareon. "Surely you, if anyone, can see what an improvement this is."
"I'm smarter than you. Look around. See all these people? See how they're not looking at Red? Usually, they pretend not to look—but Red cannot go unnoticed. Until now. You've made him invisible. Just another cog in the Kanto machine. Everything that was special about him—everything that inspired people, everything that made him noteworthy, everything that threatened to disrupt this stale, rotting system—you've erased it. You've destroyed it. You've ruined everything that made this team so unique."
"Use your brain. Red was never getting past that maze. We both know it. He was not going to disrupt anything. He was going to spin and spin and spin. Always stepping the wrong way. Now, finally, he can control himself."
"Left," said Red. He walked to the left of the door.
"Control himself, my beak!" said Dux. "He can't even walk through a damn door!"
It was true. Red had been walking past the door, repeatedly, for several minutes now.
"There will be an adjustment period," said Flareon. "He is not used to the Dome's power. Over time, however, he will learn how to properly use it."
"Down," said Red.
Finally, he walked out the door. We followed.
It was still dark outside—but sunrise was imminent. Rays of light shone from the east, turning the sky orange. A dull orange. Celadon was a dull green. Everything was duller than it ought to be.
"I really don't feel so good," said Digrat.
"Of course you don't," I said, glaring at Flareon. "None of us do. See what you've done, Flareon? Our very personalities are being drained."
"What kind of foolishness are you spouting now?" said Flareon.
"You still don't get it. Red brought color to the world, and now you've made it monochrome. Color requires plurality. An excess of ideas, an excess of wills—that is what brings personality to this world. That is what Kanto lacked. Its blinkered culture suppressed dissent and innovation, and allowed the strong to dominate the weak—everything was decided from the top down. But not Red. He was free. And now you've shackled him."
"Shackled? You said it yourself: this is democracy. His greatest desire will always win."
"One desire. No others. When we battle now, he will choose one move, and we will obey. We will not feel his Twitch. It was chaotic, yes, but it gave us a multitude of options. It made us free. Without that freedom, we are not individuals. Just obedient automations. Already I feel it—my own personality washing away."
"It feels like crap," said Dux.
"Down," Red muttered.
"What a stupid argument," Flareon said, still looking at me. "I believed you to be intelligent, but you're just like the rest of them. Seeing imaginary patterns. You're so inundated by randomness, you want to believe it means something. But randomness is random. There are no patterns; there is no meaning. Only chaos. And chaos has no personality."
"You are wrong," said Pidgeot. "This universe arose from chaos. Only through chaos can the Helix make its will known."
"A predictable sentiment. You have come to worship the chaos. You have assigned it to your false god. I have no delusions that I can convince you. The others, however, may yet be persuaded."
"I'll never be persuaded by a traitor!" said Dux.
"Left," Red muttered.
"Your reluctance is understandable," said Flareon. "Change, always and everywhere, is met with resistance. This, however, is a good change. It will bring progress. You cling to the old ways out of habit, not logic. Once we achieve victories, your reluctance will wane."
"Man, I've had enough of you," said Dux. He turned to Pidgeot. "How do we put a stop to this? How do we undo this mess?"
Pidgeot stared at his feet. He looked completely defeated.
"I fear that it may be too late," he said quietly.
"Down," Red muttered.
"Empty victories mean nothing to us," I told Flareon. "No amount of progress will persuade us that what you did was right."
"I'll never forgive you," Dux growled. "I'll never forgive anyone who crosses my friends."
"I still don't feel so good," said Digrat.
"Left," Red muttered.
"Oddish," Flareon said, turning to face her. "You are still new. You have not yet been indoctrinated into this ridiculous cult. Surely you understand why this change was necessary."
Oddish looked back with big, sad eyes. For a moment she was silent. Then she said, quietly: "You really shouldn't have done this without asking, Flareon."
"Of course I did not ask. I knew that the others would spout absurdities, as they're doing now."
"But we're a team." Oddish's eyes watered up. "I've been trying so hard to hold us together, Flareon. I really want to be your friend, and I want to be their friend, too. I want us all to be friends. Why would you do this behind our backs?"
"There are two types of people in this world: those who act, and those who follow. I acted. The others will follow, or perhaps they won't—I don't care. Their opinions don't concern me. They shouldn't concern you, either. They are lost. But you are not. Not yet."
"Down," Red muttered.
"Please stop this, Flareon," Oddish said hoarsely, tears dripping down her face. "I'm not going to choose between you and them. We're all in this together."
"No. This is bigger than one team. The fate of the world is at stake. Red, during what Drowzee calls 'anarchy,' was a destructive influence. He hurt more than just himself—he inspired others to imitate his disorderly conduct. His story was gaining traction. He was gaining admirers. Followers. Yet he could barely walk two feet forward without tripping over himself. Can you imagine a person like that becoming Champion? It would convince people to tear down all institutions, all barriers—and then what? Society disintegrates. Kanto becomes as self-destructive as Red himself, molded by his example.
"But Red's talent was not tied to anarchy. Now he will win the right way. He will become Champion, and provide a better example to those who wish to follow."
"You don't give a damn about Red," I said. "This is all about your twisted ideology."
"I am doing what's best for Red. That just happens to be what's best for everyone else, as well."
"And you know what's best for him so much better than he does. He never wanted this. He clearly doesn't want it now. He was perfectly happy the way he was, and you changed him for your own stupid, selfish reasons."
"Start9," Red muttered.
Flareon turned to face Oddish again. "You see the problem. They fight against reason, no matter the cost. They are a threat to society. They will never be my friends. You must choose."
"I'm not going to choose," Oddish said, squeezing her eyes shut as tears poured out. "I'm not going to choose!"
Something changed in Flareon's eyes. Her fiery glare became cold.
"Not choosing is itself a choice," she said. "If these are your friends, then you are my enemy."
"No!" Oddish sobbed. "No, no, no!"
"Well, congratulations," said Dux. "You made the sweetest plant in the world cry."
"Start9," said Red.
"Some friends," said Flareon. "Bird Jesus, the zealot. Dux, the ignoramus. Drowzee, who uses his intelligence to justify stupidity." She looked at Digrat. "And then there's this abomination. This detestable creature embodies everything wrong with Red's so-called 'journey' so far. When has he ever thought of anyone but himself? He pulls against our hard-earned progress—and in the chaos of anarchy, he succeeds. He is the single most contemptible being I have ever met."
"Hey!" said Dux. "How dare you talk about my friend like that!"
"Yeah!" said Digrat. "How dare you talk about Dux's friend like that!"
"Start9," said Red.
Flareon said nothing. We looked at her for a while, then looked away, lost in thought. We all felt this weight inside us, pulling us down. Crushing us. It was becoming hard to remember who I was. Who I was supposed to be. I was losing my sense of self. It stung me inside.
And there was nothing I could do. Nothing any of us could do. The Twitch was fading. Our journey, as we knew it, had come to an end. Everything we loved about it—we would never see that again.
We stood silently, wallowing in the pain of defeat.
"Start9," said Red.
"What the hell is he on about?" said Dux.
No one answered. I looked at Red. I listened to the Mob.
I understood.
A smile spread across my face.
I laughed. Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. I laughed harder.
I looked at Pidgeot. He looked back, confused. But then his eyes lit up with understanding. He smiled. He laughed. He laughed harder.
Digrat laughed, too.
"I don't get it," said Dux.
"Yeah, I don't either," said Digrat. "I just didn't want to feel left out."
"Start9," said Red.
I grinned at Flareon. She looked at me, confused and annoyed. I relished the moment—I knew, and she didn't.
"You've lost, Flareon," I said.
"What?" she said. "What idiocy is this?"
I laughed. "Don't you get it? 'Start' is a passive command. The Mob uses it to search through Red's bag—but only when combined with other commands. On its own, it's useless. And the Mob is continuously voting to use Start—nine times. Over and over."
"Wait a moment," said Dux. "You're saying that they're using democracy to do nothing?"
"Red is protesting. He refuses to go any further."
"He has not given up," said Pidgeot. "He is fighting back." A ray of hope had snuck into Pidgeot's voice.
"Start9," said Red.
"Start9!" Digrat, of all people, was the first of us to say it. "Start9!"
"Yes, Start9!" said Pidgeot. "Everyone, we must encourage him. Start9!"
"Start9!" Dux and I said. "Start9!"
As one voice, the four of us chanted: "Start9! Start9! Start9!"
"Start9," said Red.
Oddish's troubled eyes shifted between Red and Flareon. She fixed her gaze on Red. "Start9," she whispered. She gave Flareon a brief, apologetic look. Then she said, louder: "Start9." Then louder: "Start9!"
"Start9!" The five of us chanted in unison: "Start9! Start9!"
"How childish," said Flareon. "Throw your tantrum. It changes nothing."
But we could barely hear her over our own chanting. "Start9! Start9! Start9!"
"Start9," said Red. We continued chanting. "Start9," he repeated. Each time was a little louder. "Start9!" He was shouting now. His eyes were lighting up—coming back to life. "Start9!" he yelled. "START9!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Then he collapsed. Just fell to the ground, like a puppet cut from its strings.
"Oh, crap," said Dux.
"Is he okay?" said Oddish.
"He's fine," I said. "Unconscious, but breathing normally. He doesn't appear to be injured."
We stared at Red. He lay still on the pavement. We stared.
He opened his eyes.
"RAISE YOUR DONGERS!" he shouted, jumping to his feet.
The five of us cheered.
"ANARCHY REIGNS!" Red shouted, running in circles, arms raised victoriously. "PRAISE HELIX!"
"Praise Helix indeed," said Pidgeot. He smiled at Flareon. "Try as you might, False Prophet, you cannot suppress the will of Helix. It breaks all barriers; it pushes through all boundaries."
Flareon glared at him; you didn't need to be psychic to detect her rage. "So this is what you call victory," she said. "Crying and whining like a toddler until you get your way. What a pathetic lot."
"RIOT!" Red shouted.
The sun rose over the horizon, bringing color to the green city. The bushes and trees cast long shadows; their leaves sparkled radiantly, reflecting the morning light.
"So, now what?" said Dux.
"Now we move forward," I said. "We should—"
"TO THE PC!" said Red.
~·~
"Is this really a good idea?" said Dux.
"The False Prophet's spell is broken," said Pidgeot. "What happened before will not happen again."
"But still, though."
I understood Dux's concern. True, there were three good possible outcomes: depositing Flareon, depositing Digrat, or withdrawing the Helix Fossil. But there were plenty of bad possible outcomes, too.
We watched nervously as Red walked up to the PC.
[RED turned on the PC.]
We found ourselves back in that horrible cyberspace again.
"Hurry up, Digrat!" said Dux.
"I'm trying!" said Digrat. "I can't move!"
I looked around. Digrat was, indeed, struggling against his restraints. Dux was watching nervously. Oddish and Pidgeot were staring frightfully into the black box.
I turned to my left, and saw Flareon. She, too, was staring at the box. But she showed no anxiety. She just sat there calmly, thinking. Calculating. Plotting her next move. She exuded confidence. This setback meant little to her. Even now, she felt certain she would win. It pissed me off.
I lunged at her.
The look on her face was priceless. She hadn't planned for this. She hadn't planned for me.
I grabbed her; we fell to the ground, tussling.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked. "Let go of me! LET GO!"
Her panic was music to my ears. I rolled, holding her tightly. She struggled, biting me, trying to knock her head against me—but I held her too close for any serious hits to land. I endured the pain of her teeth and claws, rolling, refusing to let go.
We rolled—toward the black box.
[DROWZEE was stored in Box 1.]
[FLAREON was stored in Box 1.]
~·~
End Time: 5d 10h 15m
~·~
Current team:
RATTATA, lv.14
• Rattata (Normal)
• Thunderbolt, Body Slam, Quick Attack, Dig
···
PIDGEOT, lv.44
• Pidgeot (Normal/Flying)
• Gust, Sand-Attack, Quick Attack, Whirlwind
···
ODDISH, lv.22
• Oddish (Grass/Poison)
• Cut, PoisonPowder, Stun Spore, Sleep Powder
···
DUX, lv.20
• Farfetch'd (Normal/Flying)
• Cut, Sand-Attack, Leer, Fury Attack