Chapter 3: They Went That-a-Way


Trapinch rushed off to what Gible could only assume was his kitchen. Gible could also assume that the kitchen was not designed with someone of Trapinch's stature in mind. A cacophony of sounds erupted from the room, leaving Gible to his imagination. Bits of metal clattered as they hit the floor, a few organic things made emphatic squishes as they landed, and Gible could have sworn something made of glass shattered as well.

He could hear Trapinch sigh despite the distance. "There goes the drought orb. Eh, wasn't that useful out here anyway." Trapinch returned to his searching without a hint of remorse.

Gible couldn't help but wonder what was holding Trapinch up for this long. From what Gible could guess, a Protector's bag was probably a very important to have. Why Trapinch's would be hidden this well was beyond him.

Of all the Pokémon to find me… No, that's wrong. Trapinch really does want to help. I'll take genuine compassion over anything else, even if that includes basic organizational skills.

But Gible dwelled on that last part. Why did Trapinch's house not match him at all? The furniture was all wrong, there was no way someone like Trapinch could make effective use of them.

This left two options. Either trapinch had roommates far larger than himself, or whoever sold him the house was a master con artist. Gible would have to bring this up when the opportunity arose. If Trapinch had more teammates, it would be nice to meet them.

Gible was pulled out of his thinking when Trapinch cried out from the other room. "Yes! Found it! Alright, here I – woah!" The universe exacted some kind of karmic justice on Trapinch as he was the next thing to hit the floor. "I'm fine! This normally happens!" Those earlier doubts Gible had started to creep back in.

Trapinch came trotting back to Gible, this time with a tan bag held in his jaw, hanging by its strap. In all honesty the "bag" was really more of a pouch. It was like someone had the bright idea to take the pocket off a coat, then give it a strap and something to close it with and called it a day. Its craftsmonship was absolutely impeccable as far as Gible could tell, but its diminutiveness wasn't doing it any favors.

"So this little thing was worth all that trouble?"

Trapinch's voice was muffled, and he balanced speaking with keeping his hold on the bag. "Okay first, it's not little, it's designed with Pokémon like me in mind. And second, what? No, of course not. I keep it in the kitchen. It's this I was trying to find." Gible felt the tiniest bit rude after hearing that.

Trapinch let go of the bag and it fell to the floor, the flap on top opening up. There were some blue orb things that Gible barely recognized as oran berries, a few yellow-shelled objects that were probably seeds, but everything else was lost on him.

Trapinch reached into the bag and pulled out a piece of orange fabric. There wasn't anything wrong with it, but the fabric was so incredibly mundane that Gible couldn't see why it was worth so much trouble. The only interesting thing about it was that it was nearly the exact same shade of orange as Trapinch. It was a near perfect square, and if Gible had to guess it cover his entire face if someone held it against him.

"What is that, a blanket?"

"No, it's a scarf! That's the uh, technical term, it's really a bandanna. Neckerchief? Doesn't matter. What does matter is that it'll save us a lot of hassle. Local law enforcement is pretty strict about who's allowed into the city, you know the whole constant war thing? If you were any other Pokémon they wouldn't care about you, but you might actually be the only gible in the entire town. But if you wear this it'll be pretty obvious that you're with me."

Trapinch gave the scarf to Gible, who this time made extra sure to actually grab it. Gible took a moment to ponder where it would go on him. I don't think I can tie it around one of my arms. I also can't reach my legs. Then there's the fact that I don't exactly have a neck to tie it around either…

"You know, I hate to admit it, but I might need some help with this one."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Here. Bend forward for me." Trapinch took the scarf back and Gible did as he was told. He fell over onto his stomach but didn't complain. He couldn't see much but the floor, but Gible could feel Trapinch working on his fin.

"And, done! For today at least, you are now the proud owner of a Protectors Association Protector's scarf! Wear it with pride! I know I do. It's pretty much the same color as me, but it's there. I've got it around my neck, see?" Trapinch turned his head and exposed his neck as best as he could. True to his word, there was a small strip of fabric just barely distinguishable from the rest of him. It was knotted at the front and it appeared as though the bulk of it was on his back.

Note to self: Trapinch is unfairly dexterous.

Trapinch began to put the contents of his bag back into place. "Okay, we're ready. Don't worry about the door, it's unlocked, you can push it right open." Trapinch didn't even look at the shock on Gible's face before he continued. "I know, I know, no one's tried anything yet. It's pretty obvious that a Protector lives here, no one in their right mind would try anything. It's actually the one of the few things I'm sure of around here."

That didn't do much to assuage Gible. He might not have known anything about the finer details of Pokémon society, but something told him that the kind of Pokémon that broke into homes was mutually exclusive from the kind of Pokémon that respected Protectors. Gible was very hopeful that he was wrong.

"I suppose you'd know better than me about that." Gible took in a few deep breaths. "Well, you wanna get the rest of your team? Or at least, say goodbye and get some good luck from them?"

Trapinch's face lit up in shock before he answered, and he was hesitant to speak. "R-right. My team. They're - indisposed at the moment. Unavailable for jobs and stuff like that. They're fine though. It doesn't matter! What matters is you, and it's my duty to help you, so that's what I'm gonna do!" Trapinch's mood seemed to turn around completely as he spoke. What started as near reluctance to speak managed to evolve into raw determination.

Oookay. Probably best if I don't mention his team. Gotta remember that. There's definitely more to this story, but I've already asked a lot. No need to push it.

Trapinch steamed past Gible and opened the door. He grimaced slightly as he used his face to open it, but didn't say anything. He'd been in this house for a while now, so he was probably used to it. He even held it open for Gible, which was nice. As he passed, Gible noted that Trapinch somehow managed to get the bag over his head and onto his neck, where it now just barely hung off the ground.

Gible joined Trapinch outside and winced at the harsh sunlight assaulting his eyes. Agh, that's what? The third time today? He shielded his eyes with his arms for a moment, and then took in his surroundings when he felt better.

To say that the view was imposing would be an understatement. It might have been that he was so short, or the buildings so tall, but what he could see of the city was impressive. He found himself on a wide avenue, with a sidewalk that raised ever so slightly from the main road. The road and the side walk were most likely both cut out of the earth, but from what he could tell lines were cut into the road to give the appearance that it was paved with bricks. For all the grandeur that this initial view suggested, the street was actually quite empty. Besides Trapinch, there were only a few other Pokémon walking about.

Gible then took his view off the street and to the sandstone buildings that surrounded him. They were packed closely together, and stretched into the sky. A few alleyways separated buildings here and there, but for the most part everything was as tight as could be.

Trapinch spoke up after letting Gible take his look around. "Impressive, huh? I'll admit, there are some more impressive cities out there, but Korb Town's pretty much the best in the whole desert. From what I've seen and heard, anyway."

"Yeah this is impressive. And your place is just as tall as the rest of these?"

"Yup!" Trapinch turned back around to face his building. Stuck to the door was an envelope. It was closed with a yellow seal, and Gible could just barely make out what appeared to be a hammer on it. "Oh! Finally! I'll have to read this when we get back. See this hammer? It's the Protector Association's insignia. It's on my door too, so Pokémon know I'm here."

Just like he promised, painted on the door in yellow was the same hammer. The paint that it was made of was dry and starting to chip off.

"There's some kind of symbolism behind it, right?"

"Yeah, but I'll tell you later. We really should get moving." With that, Trapinch turned to the right and started walking.

"Stick to me the whole time, okay? We'll need to use the west exit, which is on the other side of town. The Pokémon here are fine, but some of them can be a bit pushy. Learned that the hard way. This one time I was passing by an incense stall and they tried to make me pay for something I smelled while I was walking by! I talked the price down a bit, but still, not a fun experience."

Gible did his best to keep a straight face. The story was mildly funny at best, but it would have been wrong to laugh at Trapinch's misfortune, especially given what he was doing for Gible.

The two of them made their way through the town, and Trapinch pointed out some things of note as they went. They didn't take the scenic route and some of the details weren't the best, but it was fine nonetheless. Over there was the berry stand that gave food poisoning to half of the eastern residential district a few months back. Apparently they skipped town the moment rumors started floating about their involvement.

Just down that street was a Protector Team that used to be active in the area, but Trapinch hadn't seen them for a while. The best guess was that they decided they had enough of Korb Town and moved for greener pastures. Or the color green in general. Trapinch said something about the Protectors being headquartered in a forested area, but Gible was more interested on what he was seeing than hearing.

As they neared the half-way point to the western gate, Gible noticed the street gradually widened as they went along. Lone pedestrians gave way to large crowds, and the two of them were forced off the sidewalk when vendors' stands started popping up in their path. Gible could only hope that the Pokémon that lived in the blocked off buildings were the same who set up in front of them.

Trapinch stopped commenting on the things they passed and spoke directly to Gible. "Alright, we're nearing the city center now. We don't have any business here, so we're just going to pass through. I'll show you around some other time." Trapinch started walking faster, and Gible had a hard time keeping up with him.

The buildings surrounding them parted and they came across a large plaza. It was incredibly basic in design, and shaped by the roads that led to it. Four roads that pointed in the cardinal directions were connected to the plaza, which suggested to Gible that the entire clearing was one big square.

Despite the city center's large size and designation, there wasn't anything that looked impressive in it. There were no monuments, no statues, nothing that gave the impression that the place was significant in any way. The stalls outlining the perimeter seemed to be packed closer together than the ones on the road leading in, but that was about it.

In the middle of the square Gible thought he saw something that looked like a big bulletin board that was absolutely covered in paper, but there were too many Pokémon in his way and he was moving too fast to get a good look.

Pokémon of all shapes and sizes milled about, most of them either talking to each other or with the merchants. There were Pokémon that Gible expected to live in a desert, like a krookodile in a heated exchange with a numel, but there were some surprises as well. The most interesting one was an abomasnow merchant who looked to be selling ice. Gible couldn't understand how someone like that could live here, but sales must have been lucrative enough to justify it.

The pair made it through without incident, but were forced to slow down by a crowd that had gathered in the street they were going to take out of the city. Looking through the legs of the Pokémon in front of him, Gible saw what appeared to be a buneary standing on a crate more than twice her size. There were bundles of paper surrounding the crate, and she was shouting to the crowd.

"Trapinch hold on," Gible called, "I want to see what this is about. It looks important."

The buneary was shouting in a voice not too dissimilar from Mesprit's. "Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Nomads sack Nillsville, leaving it open for Alexander! It's only a matter of time until his armies reach Korb Town! How well will we fare under his regime? Our sources say: not well at all! All of this and more in this extra edition of-" The buneary was cut off.

"Move, move! Get out of the way at once!" A trio of Pokémon began pushing their way through the crowd. On one side was a crustle who swatted at those near him with his claws, and on the other was a drapion who glared daggers at every one in her path. Leading the charge between them was an ambipom, the one who interrupted the buneary.

"Hmph. Katelyn, what a surprise. Would you mind explaining to me, and to the good Pokémon of this city, what you're doing?"

"Mr. Rings! I was-"

"That's Mayor Rings, to you, now."

"Yes – Sorry Mr. Mayor! I was just selling my paper! You know, the one you got the old printing press up and running for? Works like a charm, by the way. Thank you." Whatever bravado this buneary – "Katelyn" it seemed – was gone now.

"Yes well, that's me, the magnanimous Mayor Rings of Korb Town for you all-" Rings bowed twice towards the crowd- "always willing to do what's needed to better the lives of my lovely constituents. But this? Spreading such lies to the public and corrupting the gift I've given you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself! If you would?" Rings nodded towards his drapion.

She stomped over to Katelyn's crate, the buneary on top shaking with fear. In one swipe, Drapion grabbed a newspaper and smashed the crate to bits, sending Katelyn flying back. Unfortunately for Drapion, the inside of the crate was filled with rocks, which hurt to strike with such force.

"Uh, sorry miss. Had to do something to stop it from falling over. On account of my size, you know?" The look on Katelyn's face gave away the fact that she knew she was doomed. Luckily enough, Drapion just glared at her before returning to Rings with the paper.

Rings hastily snatched it from her using one of his tails. He scanned the front page for a moment, and then began flipping through the rest of it.

"Yes, it's just as I thought. Your writing ability is quite impressive, whoever taught you should be proud. It's just a shame really, that quite literally every other quality of this drivel is absolutely worthless. You must think your audience to be idiots to believe half the lies you've published here." Rings met the eyes of the crowd to ensure that they received his message.

He continued. "Oh please. Let's say that reality humors your ramblings, no matter how insane they may be. Even if Alexander takes Nillsville, he will never cross the Nill River. He won't ever even see the walls of Korb Town. I know you're young, but seriously. There are eggs that can put together more coherent thoughts."

Tears were forming in Katelyn's eyes and she was sniffling, but she didn't give in. "That's just what you think! I have sources from all over the desert who can confirm my reports! Our city is doomed and you're not doing anything to stop it. We're not doing anything to stop it! Maybe we do deserve to get conquered! Then at least we'd have a leader with some sense of initiative!"

Rings brushed her off with a wave of his paw. "Hmph. That's just what you think, newsie. Whose sources are better, those that report to me, the mayor of the greatest city in the Attaman Desert, or yours? But it is no matter. We will continue our talk later. For now, Herm, take her to my office. Demi, you can pick something out from around here for your claw. I'm sure whatever merchant you visit will be more than willing to assist you."

The crustle moved over to Katelyn, and picked her up by her long ear. He then began dragging here across the ground, back to wherever the mayor's office was. Demi's smile reached across her entire face. Gods have mercy on whoever she went to.

"As for the rest of you, my beloved citizens, disperse! You've all heard more than enough."

The crowd grumbled and sighed, but returned to their schedules all the same. Interestingly enough, Rings was one of the only Pokémon who did not leave. Instead he remained where he was, reading Katelyn's newspaper.

Trapinch on the other claw, was very eager to get back on schedule. "Well, that was certainly something. Now come on, the Sun's technically still rising, but we really should get moving."

The mayor looked up from his reading for the briefest of moments to see who spoke. He regarded Trapinch for a second, then moved to Gible. Upon seeing the orange band on Gible's fin his eyes widened.

"You two! You're Protectors, right?" He called out to them. "That scarf of yours and the bag give it away. Not many others consider items such as those to be in fashion nowadays. But, it falls on me, your wonderfully humble mayor, to keep a keen eye on the doings of our continent's saviors." Gible didn't have time to process the hypocrisy of that last part before Rings continued.

"I won't take up any more of your day, your work is among the most important in this entire desert. Not as important as mine, mind you, but it's certainly up there. This city needs more Pokémon like you – fully fledged Protectors that is – to keep fighting that good fight of yours! On behalf of all of Korb Town's citizens, good luck!" The mayor's cheerful tone could not have been any more different from the one he had while dealing with Katelyn.

Gible wasn't quite sure how to feel about him.


Trapinch and Gible trudged through the desert in silence. The sandstone buildings of Korb Town led Gible to believe that they were in a sandy part of the desert, but that changed not long after they left. Instead they found themselves in a great sea of orange. The desert floor they walked on was made of orange dirt that occasionally revealed the darker stone beneath it, and massive buttes made of the same kind of stone rose prominently from the ground. Small bushes clung to the ground wherever they could.

As impressive as the landscape around him was, Gible's mind was on one feature in particular: the massive rock formation that was ahead of them. It just sat there, like a giant stone wall. At one part of the wall the stone parted and created an entrance to the canyon inside. The Groudon's Gift mystery dungeon certainly lived up to its name. Gible couldn't think of any natural wonder more impressive to tie Groudon's name to.

Despite all the natural beauty surrounding him and the prospects of getting some answers about himself, Gible's mind couldn't help but wander back to Korb Town, the confrontation between the mayor and the newspaper girl in particular. Something about the whole situation felt off to him, and the fact that he had pretty much no idea of what they were talking about was there too.

"Hey Trapinch, about the thing back in town. Alexander's what, a local warlord right? Also, I uh, wanted to know what you thought about that whole argument the mayor had, considering I don't have much to base my own opinion off of."

"Yeah that… Hold on let me think, I've been considering it myself." Trapinch tilted his head and nearly tripped over a rock as he did so.

"Well if you want to know what I think, there's definitely something up with the mayor. Just keep in mind this is entirely my own speculation, so don't think this is like, official information or anything. You heard how the mayor really played himself up, right? Here's the thing. I don't actually think he's doing his job."

Gible had a hard time believing that. "You're gonna have to run that by me again. You don't know if the mayor's done any mayoring? I'm sure that most aspects of being a mayor aren't exactly notable."

"I get what you mean, but there's more to it than that. I do my best to keep up with the news – local, regional, whatever - in accordance with Association recommendations, and the mayor hardly ever comes up. In fact, that was his first public appearance all year! And we hardly get any kind of news in Korb Town, so for him to dismiss the first easily accessible outlet like that doesn't sit right with me."

"Huh. Well that certainly is a perspective, so I don't think I can ask for more. But. Alexander. Warlord, right?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. You're wrong about that. Guy's a conqueror. Association intel says that he and his armies are most likely from Freewater, a city on the western fringes of the desert. Korb Town is pretty much in the easternmost part. Do I need to say more? Cause it actually scares me to think about." Gible could see Trapinch shake as he spoke.

"Ooh, yeah. That sounds scary. I'm gonna hope the mayor's right about one thing at lea- oh hey! We're here!"

Looming in front of the two was the edge of the canyon. Directly ahead of them was the partition that lead deeper inside. Though the Sun was directly above them now, Gible couldn't see into the canyon. It went absolutely pitch-black a few feet in. This was almost certainly some property of the mystery dungeon.

Gible could hear Trapinch taking deep breathes as they considered the entrance. Was Trapinch nervous? He clearly had the skill to clear the dungeon on his own if the story of how he found Gible was true. Was there something that changed when he brought along someone else? That couldn't be it, Trapinch worked on a team, so this should have been nothing new.

That's when the reality of his situation hit Gible. He was entering a mystery dungeon. A kind of place notorious for two things: the everchanging landscape, and the locals who would love nothing more than to beat you up the moment they saw you. And Gible didn't know if he could hold his own. Turns out, losing all his memories about himself also meant losing any memories he had of fighting. He'd have to hope Trapinch could carry himself well enough to cover Gible too.

He could probably still use basic attacks, and maybe even Moves if it came down to it. They wouldn't be very effective without any training on how to use them, but he still had them. Maybe being designated as "client" wasn't so inaccurate after all. He was considering all this when Trapinch finally got up the nerve to speak.

"So, you know how mystery dungeons work, right? Labyrinthian layout, populated by ferals, small treasures to be found here and there? Use the stairs to advance? Groudon's Gift only has ten floors so it's not that bad."

"Yeah, yeah. I remember mystery dungeons. Speaking of, how are we going to get through this? I'm not very confident in my fighting capabilities at the moment. I'll take a hit if I need to, but I don't think I'll be returning any favors."

"Don't worry, this'll be relatively easy. I uh, come here a lot, so I'm familiar with the kinds of Pokémon we'll find inside. It'll be a standard escort mission, there's a whole section dedicated to it in the pawbook. Normally it just means getting the client to a particular floor, but clearing the whole dungeon isn't unheard of. I'll take point, and you'll be at the top with all your memories by sunset. You ready?"

Now it was Gible's turn to be nervous. It was an odd feeling. By all means, he should have been excited. He was finally going to get something concrete, no vague ideas or misdirection on the part of higher beings. He even told off a goddess for getting in his way, this was nothing by comparison.

Someone who made a career out of helping Pokémon with their problems had his back, and apparently the mystery dungeon that prevented them from getting what they wanted was nothing to him. Things could not have lined up any better. What had started out as an objectively horrible day was going to end in the best way it could have.

But still, at the furthest recesses of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, was one worry. What if everything goes wrong? What if we don't find anything up there? What am I supposed to do in that case? Worse comes to worst, how long can I be with Trapinch and his team before I outstay my welcome?

Gible had to fight hard to push those thoughts out of his head. Worrying about the future, especially one he couldn't control, would do nothing for him. If anything, that'd only make things worse. There would be no point in further harming his already wounded mental state with concerns like that. Life had dealt him his hand, and no matter how much it sucked he'd have to live with it. There'd be time for concern later.

Now, it was time to get his memories back. "Yes. I'm ready. After you."


Trapinch was able to make short work of the Pokémon they encountered. Most of the ferals that tried to stop them were Rock types that stood no chance against Trapinch's Dig. The setup of the Move did leave Gible exposed for a moment, but he could shrug off whatever came his way before Trapinch knocked them out with a single hit.

There was one instance in one of the dungeon's rooms where Trapinch missed and went sailing into the canyon wall. It didn't look like he was hurt too badly, but it did leave Gible shocked and in a bit of a bind. The golem they were fighting laughed to himself before curling up into a ball and unleashing a nasty Rollout.

Pure instinct overtook Gible. He sidestepped his assailant, and just as Golem came by Gible pulled his arm back and then threw it forward in an underhand throw, taking an unnaturally large amount of sand and rock with it. The cloud of debris came up under the golem and started swirling into a tornado that suspended him inside it, in what Gible recognized as Sand Tomb. In a stroke of luck, Golem was ignorant of his situation and kept rolling even though he was suspended where he was.

Gible took a moment to admire his reflexes before continuing the fight. He threw up another Sand Tomb, and while the tornado didn't grow any, the force of the blast still hurt Golem. Gible didn't want to take any chances, so he threw in another Sand Tomb, and another. It took a moment for the adrenaline to wear off, and when it did Gible could see Golem's comatose body being whirled around in the tornado.

Huh, I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost. He did try to kill me.

"Hey Trapinch, you alright? I took care of Golem. I might've overdone it, but the way he laughed at you? That made it personal."

Trapinch picked himself up. He shook his head and blinked rapidly before stumbling over to Gible's side. Gible noticed that Trapinch had a very considerable sway in his step as he walked. His head would go this way and that, and his legs stumbled over each other. After arriving, Trapinch admired the tornado for a bit, looking it up and down. He composed himself as best as he could and cleared his throat.

"Hey! Nice work. That's what? Sand Tomb, right? I used to use it myself, but that was a while ago. Looks good, looks good. You know, yours looks stronger than any Sand Tomb I ever mustered up. Something about it just looks fiercer. Angrier."

"Yeah, I went a bit overboard with it. I probably used it five times before even considering to stop."

"No, that's not how the Move works. Using it additional times doesn't make the tornado any stronger. Something like this could only come from lots of practice. Ooh! What if you were a fighter in your past? This spark any memories?"

"Nope. Nothing. No flashbacks or anything. I was on nothing but instinct and adrenaline."

"Darn. That's a shame. Well, we'll find them at the top, hopefully. Only three floors left, not counting the end."

The anxiety from before flared up again. If this encounter didn't bring anything back, what hope did Gible have going forward? All that practice went into one move, and using it again gave him nothing. At this rate, Gible would have to hope that whoever or whatever stole his memories was waiting for him.

No, I gotta stop that. I've been over this. Worrying will do me no good. Look at the bright side, I have some kind of instinct left over. It's only one Move, but apparently I used it a lot. If I had anything to bet with, I'd wager it all that I didn't rely on just Sand Tomb. More will come back to me, I just gotta wait.

Trapinch began speaking again. "Gible, I have something to ask you. It's very irregular and goes against some pretty major Association regulations, but I have to ask. Would you mind taking the lead? The way I hit my head, it's worse than any confusion I've ever had. I see four of you right now. Also, I wanna see if combat experience will remind you of something. Couldn't hurt to try."

Gible ignored the fact that fighting would more than likely result in him getting hurt and jumped on the offer immediately. It twisted him up inside letting Trapinch do so much for him, and now here was his chance to pay him back. This wouldn't even begin to cover everything Gible owed, but a start was a start.

"Yeah. I can do that. Just pick a direction and walk right? Hopefully some more instinct will kick in and we'll be done in no time."


The duo breezed through the last remaining floors. Either being in constant action made things seem quicker than they were, or Gible was that much stronger than Trapinch. Gible knew that at least Trapinch could at least still remember what he had for dinner last night, so he swallowed his pride and went with the first option.

In what felt like no time at all, they found themselves at the end of the dungeon. The narrow passageways of the canyon turned into a small mesa that towered over the desert, from which the duo could see for miles. A huge network of canyons and valleys sprawled beneath them, punctuated here and there with more mesas.

The pair must have been in the dungeon longer than Gible thought, and the Sun was now setting, just barely poking over the horizon. The sky was a mix of yellow, orange, and purple, and the great clouds that hung over them were beginning to darken as well. And just barely, the faintest traces of smoke drifted by when the wind blew.

But Gible didn't see any of that. Surrounded by all this natural beauty, Gible didn't care for any of it in the slightest. All he was looking for was anything that even hinted that someone was here before. And there was nothing. The plateau Gible found himself on was as flat as it could have been, and there was nothing on it but Gible and Trapinch.

"No, no. There's gotta be something. Hello! Is anyone here? Anyone?!" Gible's last call rang throughout the canyon.

Trapinch tried to speak up, but couldn't find the right words to say. "Hey, Gible I- Look I'm-" Trapinch sighed- "No. There's nothing I can say. But, I packed us something to eat once we got through. Figured out here watching the sunset would be nicer than my place on the floor. Something tells me you might not want to stick around though, so just say the word and we'll head back." Trapinch then walked off to the edge of the Mesa that pointed towards the Sun.

Gible had a hard time processing the reality of his situation. Of course the one extra thing that could have gone wrong did. What was he expecting? A note that outlined every detail of his life? Someone who watched Gible get knocked unconscious to be there, just waiting for him to return? Ridiculous.

This whole thing was a waste of time. For all intents and purposes, Gible was nothing. He came from nothing, had nothing, and would be nothing. What was left for him? He couldn't stick with Trapinch and his team forever. There were more Pokémon out there who needed help, Pokémon who actually had a chance of being affected in some way. Gible was a lost cause.

Deep within Gible, a great fire started building up. It was as if all the negative emotions that coursed through him were given some kind of physical form. The depression that he felt from the barren canyontop was replaced with something new that reflected this flame: anger.

Even through his rage, Gible knew that off all things in this godforsaken desert Trapinch was the least deserving of any kind of fury. He was the only one who actually tried to help him, even though there wasn't much he could realistically do. Two goddesses proved to be less helpful than he did.

Angered even more from his lack of an outlet, Gible spied a single, lonesome pebble; one of the only things around that stuck out from the mesa. So Gible did the only thing he could, and kicked it. He kicked it as hard as he could, and just as it went sailing into the canyon, instinct took over Gible's body and forced his mouth open.

The poor rock was engulfed in a blue fume of terrible dragon-fire that vaporized it instantly. This helped Gible, even if by only the tiniest bit. It was like when he told off Mesprit earlier, just doing something with his emotions was better than nothing.

Trapinch however, wasn't nearly as calm. "Woah! Mother of Mew, are you alright? I get you're angry, but wow. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No, no. I'm… better than I was a minute ago. How 'bout we stay up here? View's nice." Gible joined Trapinch at the ledge.

"Yeah, it is huh? Most dungeons have some sort of treasure room at the end, or take you somewhere else in the world, but not Groudon's Gift. I like to imagine that the view is the treasure. The name makes more sense if you think about it like that. Apple?" Trapinch offered Gible the fruit in question.

Gible took the apple and ate in one bite like before. "Yeah, yeah, I guess you got a point. Thanks. But, what do we do now? What do you do now? I can't imagine your team wants you helping me out now that we've come up with nothing." This line of thinking still hurt, but not as much as it did earlier.

Trapinch didn't answer right away, and only sighed. Man, is my position that bad? Trapinch doesn't even know what to do with me, does he? The canyon edge is right here…

"There is one thing we can do, Gible. Tell me. How would you feel about keeping that scarf?"

"Keep the scarf? What do you- oh. Are you asking what I think you're asking? Are you sure you didn't hit your head too hard?" There was no way this was happening. Trapinch wasn't seriously trying to recruit Gible, was he? Sure he might have fighting experience, but there had to be more than that to being a Protector.

"My head's been fine for the last hour, I thought I told you. But, yes. I, Trapinch Mojave, acting leader of Team Dune, Gold Rank, am formally requesting that you, Gible, join my team." Trapinch spoke with an air of confidence that Gible hadn't heard from him before. This wasn't the Trapinch – or Mojave? Was that his name? – that Gible was familiar with.

"What? Acting leader? Gold Rank? You said you were Bronze earlier. I guess I'll accept your offer. Not like I have many other options. But please, I've had enough vagueness today for a lifetime. You're gonna have to explain a bit."

Mojave hesitated before speaking. "Alright, I can do that. I've had forever to think about how to explain this, so here goes. I'm… I'm the last member left of my team. I don't know where the others went, if they're alive or dead, but Association protocol says that if someone doesn't check in for six months, they're assumed dead. My team's been out for two years." Tears started welling up in Mojave's eyes.

"Oh my… I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, it's… it is what it is. I was the newest member of the team, got pulled on right after I finished my training. I don't know why they wanted me. I was a total rookie, and Dune was Gold Rank, but it's not like I was in a position to object. The team itself is Gold Rank, but ever since I've been on my own I've considered myself Bronze. Didn't feel right to me any other way."

"I can respect that, I can respect that. Well Mojave, I, Gible, formally accept your offer to join Team Dune. May we serve the Protectors Association well."

Mojave's eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his face. He was so positive it was enough to make up for his own sorrows and Gible's. "Yes! Thank you, thank you! That was the exact textbook recruitment! Perfect phrasing on my part and yours, the emotion was right, everything! Things are finally looking up for me, and I know they will for you too! There's not much for you in the Attaman, but Association HQ has lots of resources, who knows what we'll find if we get back some day? You'll need a name for when I mail in your recruitment form, but we can discuss that later." Mojave started speaking faster as he went on, and it was a bit hard for Gible to keep up with him, but he managed.

"Alright, alright. Just take it slow. Give your new partner a break, huh? Don't want to wear down our relationship the day we start it." Gible wasn't actually all that upset with Mojave. It was nice that one of them could be this happy, and Gible wasn't far behind. Things might just turn out fine after all.


Author's Note: Heya! I might do these notes more often, it feels nice to say what I want to say. If you're reading this on the day of publication (1/1/2021, that's 1/1/21 for any Europeans) Happy new year! To new beginnings, for both us and the new Team Dune. I may or may not have held this chapter up to release it today, because New Year's Day may or may not have similar theme to this story. Regardless of how clever I might be, have a great year! Cheers!