?, Sinnoh
Silence.
All Logan could make out was silence.
What happened?
Where was he?
What happened to Nidoking?
What happened to the fight?
He knew he was asleep, but he felt so awake.
It had been a while since he had moved himself. He could feel his body being moved once in a while, but the feeling was too surreal to tell if it was real. He was too tired to do anything, yet he wanted to do everything.
The feeling of wanting to be alive. The feeling of wanting to move. Why did it feel so far away?
Why didn't he want to move? Yet he wanted to see what happened so bad.
Had it been days? Weeks? Months?
Could it have been years?
Time only seemed to be an unknown variable in this continuous space he was left in. Memories came and went, only presenting themselves after Logan had been conscious of his state for long enough.
Some of the memories he felt seemed to be crafted, created without purpose. Forged with no steel. These fake memories gave Logan the brief sense of self that wasn't entirely real.
But who was he?
The state he was left in, forced him to even wonder if he was still the same Pokémon as before. He couldn't feel his arms, his legs, his paws, his face, he was just nothing.
It's almost as if he was woven with the dark space, his very soul remaining in a stasis inescapable.
He had tried to leave this space many times, but was unable to. All he had to do was open his eyes, to move. An arm, a paw, a claw, anything.
But nothing ever moved.
Things were still.
He was still.
Pulsing.
Sophie's body continuously pulsated without an end in sight.
Her dragon abilities seemed to be stuck in a state of continuous unrest, sometimes taking over her consciousness entirely.
She had never felt such a sensation in her life.
A sense of not being entirely whole, yet too whole at once.
What was she?
What was inside of her?
Why her?
Was she even... Sophie?
She felt as if there was a small cage in her consciousness, remaining locked until she felt the need to use her dragon abilities.
But where did they even come from?
Were they hereditary?
What would happen if both of her eyes took on that red hue?
She remembered talking about it with Oliver. She had told him what to do in case that happened.
What do you think it is?" The Oshawott looked at her, a note of concern in his voice.
"I don't know, to be honest." She replied, "It can really hurt when I try to go past my personal limit, and it could also take over my mind."
"It can?" His eyes widened.
"Whenever you see both of my eyes turn red, stop me at all costs." Sophie told him, sounding extremely serious.
"Wait, what if you controlled the power?" Oliver questioned.
"I'll say so." She told him.
She wasn't being entirely honest that day...
She had no idea what would happen to her in the case of it taking over her mind.
She lied.
She wanted to make sure Jacob and Oliver would be safe...
Especially Oliver.
She didn't want to see him hurt, especially if it was because of her.
She was dangerous. Extremely dangerous. She knew that whatever was going on with her body would come to an eventual head. It would rear it's ugly head, and possibly hurt the ones she held close.
Sophie didn't want that. That was the last thing she wanted.
What would they think in the case her dragon side went too far later down the line? Would they go their separate ways from her? Leaving her alone once again?
She couldn't bear the thought.
The two boys were the only two that she'd considered really opening up to.
But why couldn't she?
She knew them well.
They've been through so much together already with her.
Yet her walls were almost just as strong as they were back when she didn't know Oliver and Jacob.
How long would she be able to keep this up...?
Alone.
Jacob was all alone.
It was so dark. Things were too quiet.
Where were his friends?
Were they okay?
Were they hurt?
Jacob had always kept himself around others, not willing to be alone with his thoughts for too long too often. His own thoughts were filled with question, uncertainty, and frustration.
Why did he have this power?
Where did it come from?
What happened to his late father?
His mind raced, but suddenly...
He wasn't himself anymore.
He had four arms. He was so much larger. Yet he remained in the same place as before. That dark area.
In this strange form, he felt like all of his questions were answered, yet just out of reach. The closer his mind inched towards that answer, the more the answer faded into the darkness of uncertainty.
He could feel his soul take on a different form, something just a bit bigger.
Jacob didn't care, however, as he kept moving towards the answer.
...Until, he just stopped chasing.
Jacob's soul took on its original form once again as he let himself slip back down into that feeling of being still, surrounded with unanswered questions.
It reminded him of reality, in a sense. Always searching for answers to unanswerable questions, only to find solace in being around friends.
That's all he could do, be comfortable with friends.
Yet in the back of his mind, he never felt satisfied.
Curiosity was his gluttony, and he never seemed to be full.
Falling.
Oliver was overwhelmed with the sense of falling down towards a ground that didn't exist.
He had been in and out for however long it had been, only waking up briefly to realize that he wasn't truly awake. Just conscious.
He could barely remember how it felt to be awake, since the feeling had been overshadowed with the out-of-body experience of ironically being trapped inside his body.
Was he... Dead?
No way. He never took on any fatal injuries.
Then what was happening to him?
What was happening to his body?
How could he know? He wasn't even able to feel his body.
Oliver struggled to remain conscious. Who knows what would happen to him the next time he regained consciousness?
How could he be able to rationalize what was going on, if he had nothing to rationalize with?
Focus...
Think...
Focus...
Think...
Yes, he can just keep doing that, and he'll be able to wake up.
But... Why was there something inside of him that didn't want him to wake up?
What if he was supposed to be this way?
Was it because he was...
...Weak?
That had to be it. He didn't have the strength to wake up.
But why didn't he?
He was just as strong as the others, right?
Sure he couldn't suddenly get super strength, or tap into a dragon form, but he could do just as much as they could.
Right?
A little bit of training now and then, and he'd be able to reach the same heights they were already at. He already improved from his time in Forest Grotto and even Casteel City.
But there was always a lingering question in his head.
Would he ever be as good as them?
He wasn't special, like it or not. He could do only what every other Oshawott could do. Would he always be overshadowed by his friends?
The falling sensation that he had felt the whole time increased, his headspace falling faster.
He couldn't take it anymore.
He wanted to wake up.
He had to wake up.
Or else this space would be his world forever.
He would remain the shadow of his friends, occasionally hopping from shadow to shadow whenever he felt the need be.
There was no way he would just let that happen.
He still had to become his own Pokémon. No matter the cost.
Suddenly, something grabbed Oliver by his throat. He could feel it, and a small gasp slipped from his lips.
He wasn't alone.
Oliver gagged and choked. He could feel his body flail and squirm as his air supply began to deplete.
What was going on? Was something trying to kill him?
"You're getting closer, boy."
A voice?
His eyes widened, finally opening to reveal the dark space he was falling down in. The area was glowing an ominous black color, and the glow slowly made its way to Oliver's neck. Some black material was choking him.
What Pokémon could go and affect his dreams this way? Cresselia? Darkrai? One of them for sure, but why...?
And why him?
Oliver began trying to get it off of his neck, to no avail. The black material was slipping through his paws as if it weren't there.
"Now, breathe..."
The black material slipped from his neck, allowing Oliver's airways to open up. He gasped for air.
"You're certainly a perceptive one, aren't you?"
Oliver tried to say something, anything, but he couldn't. It was almost like he wasn't allowed to.
"I'll admit, I never thought a puny Oshawott would be my savior, but I'll take what I can get."
He was confused.
Savior? What is this voice talking about?
"Do it. Unlock the mysteries of this region."
Oliver tried his best to recognize the voice, but the voice had no base. It wasn't masculine, nor feminine.
"And release me!"
The words banged through Oliver's head, acting as a rubber ball in the tidy room of his mind. His head throbbed a bit as he closed his eyes once again.
That's when he slipped back into an unconscious state.
Logan's eyes opened.
He was back in the Pokémon Center, in his room with Jacob, Oliver, and Sophie.
He did it. He woke up.
But it was so dark in the room, he could barely see anything.
It was almost like the darkness he was in for so long. He shuddered a bit at the thought of being trapped in there unwillingly again.
He looked over to the bunk bed across the room, so see that Oliver was tossing and turning in his sleep. There was also something strange going on inside of his backpack.
The Oshawott's backpack was glowing black, something inside of it glowing brightly enough for him to see.
Logan tried to push his blankets off of him and stand up, but he still was unable to move.
He had no energy.
The Scorbunny turned his attention back to Oliver, and the Oshawott's body was almost entirely still again, the glow in his backpack gone.
"I must still be out of it..."
He turned his head to look upwards at the bunk above.
"I need more sleep..."
Logan closed his eyes, once again nodding off.