Tearing the Heavens

by Cepel

A young soldier from a once great family is thrust into the future and ends up in an unfamiliar and bizarre world, where his presence can cause complications both ancient and modern. He inadvertently becomes a trainer through mere misunderstanding and sets off in a journey to discover his own self and where he stands in a world that isn't his own.

79. Formations

Vanka and her traveling partner Amir had only been in Castelia for two days.

They were both ace trainers, having won eight badges in their home regions and more than eager to see all the talent flock into Unova for the biggest tourney in the world. It'd been years since the last one, after all. Sinnoh really messed that up. Their plans to get autographs from some of the most famous leaders around the world came to a crashing halt after something happened in the airport. Trainers had gossiped about it hours after it had happened, and the atmosphere in the centers was a bit oppressive.

Everyone had thought the Sayre problem was over, but she wasn't too worried. She doubted any of them could get the jump on her and Amir. Assholes worse than them had tried before, and they went home in stretchers.

Still, they were both very disappointed to learn that the leaders had holed up in a hotel and refused to meet the people. Part of that must've been the Unovan Field Operations guys, they were pretty paranoid about security and stuff. The kids that supposedly messed up Sinnoh were out and about, not that she'd seen or heard of much of what they were doing. Ah well, she could wait for the World Tournament. Whatever they wanted to call it, it was still a tournament. Champion Alder still hadn't announced where they'd hold it, with rumors of it being held in Opelucid circling about. She hoped that wasn't true, Opelucid was covered in snow right now and there were stupid rules in this region about flying above a certain altitude for some reason. Not that a bird could if it was cold enough to frost their wings over.

Bored and restless, Vanka left a sleeping Amir in the pokemon center, heading for the remains of the burned hotel she'd heard about the previous night. There wasn't much to see, but it would make an interesting post on her trainer profile page and Castelia didn't have much in the way of fun; it wasn't Nimbasa. That was her next stop for sure.

Her starter, a Lycanroc named Valery, panted beside her. It was well into the night at this point, but with Valery at her side, she doubted any punks would bother her. His rocks were like high speed darts, and they hurt.

Several other trainers and regular people lounged around the ruins, despite some of the local police trying to shoo them away. They had more or less given up after more and more people came to take pictures. Settling up to strike a pose, Vanka pulled out her phone and started to take pictures.

Halfway into applying filters to her pictures near the charred ruins of the hotel, she heard a strange sound.

It came from Valery, whimpering in fear and shifting his gaze about in clear distress. Vanka noticed, running over to him and trying to calm him down. She whispered and scratched his favorite spot behind the ears, but the pokemon wasn't listening to her. She swiveled her head around, looking for threats or anything out of place. More whimpering and cries of alarm went up around her, and her blood began to run cold. All around her, several other pokemon began to exhibit the same behavior, panicking and desperately trying to tug away their trainers.

Tertiary evolutions. Pokemon stronger than her own were scared. Castelia had attracted the top of many regions, and there were more highly ranked trainers here than she'd ever seen before.

All of them looked to the sky. Airships hummed above the city and scattered, but that wasn't cause for alarm. And yet the pokemon were still losing their minds. Some took wing and hauled their trainers away, desperately trying to fly away. The sight was disturbing on more levels than she could describe. Valery wasn't scared of anyone or anything. Ever. Not even a dragon. He hadn't whimpered since he'd been a Rockruff years and badges ago. Vanka's gut was telling her that it was time to leave. When she turned to run away with Valery, the air around them suddenly changed.

Time seemed to stop, her body locking in place. Then, in the span of a moment, blue light engulfed her entire being. Her heart seized in her chest, and she felt fire crawling through her veins.

A silent scream rang out in her mind as pain the likes of which she'd never thought she could ever experience lanced through the left side of her chest while the rest of her body seemed to ignite in heat. If her body hadn't been frozen, she'd have curled up in screaming, agonizing pain when what felt like shards of glass began to push into her heart. Her heartbeat stopped abruptly as it beat one last time and suddenly found itself unable to expand anymore. She could feel the weight of something completely solid in her chest. Then the pain winked out of existence as if it had never been.

She felt herself die.

Then, for a fleeting moment in between life and death as the rest of her body disintegrated, Vanka's mind touched a deeper connection to the world, joining a flow of energy so vast and powerful that she could barely believe no one had ever seen it before. It blanketed the world in a web of power as she merged with it, her consciousness fading into the endless blue that filled her entire being. She realized futures of branching possibility, fleeting echoes of the thoughts of billions of organisms and the burning points of energy far, far beyond their little world. Stars. Galaxies. Explosions of energy so powerful they birthed new elements.

A power ripped her back to earth and the last thing she was able to acknowledge as her soul passed into the world beyond was a pair of burning red eyes beneath a crest of gold, and the wings that unfurled behind it. A gigantic serpent that felt like the grave. A sight like that should have instilled paralyzing fear, yet its presence didn't distress her fleeting soul. Fear of bodily harm was inconsequential to an incorporeal soul.

Rest, child.

Her mortal worries ebbed away. The fear of death, of nonexistence, of nothing that had blossomed within dissipated, a feeling of calm coming over her as the monster's power embraced her, guiding her to the greater whole. Her consciousness faded, and she knew no more.

---

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't.

Panic raced through Amy's entire body, gripping her with a fear that she couldn't quite place. The sky was ripping apart, tearing like a piece of paper. Seab stared at the window behind her, blue eyes wide and afraid. Her own must've looked similar. Jak, her Ampharos, shrunk in on himself, bleating lowly. He never did that anymore, not since he evolved. Even Seab's Lucario, normally fearless and effortlessly calm, seemed to back away, his tail and ears bolt upright in alarm.

The two trainers had been about to go to bed while watching the gym leaders take off to their cities when it happened. Screams and yells of panic from the other trainers in the center rebounded down the halls, but she knew that no one had moved a muscle. Their limbs didn't seem to work, the strength draining out of them instantly. The urge to run was overwhelming yet her body imprisoned her in place. Seconds felt like years, and she wanted to scream just like the younger trainers no doubt were right now.

It got worse.

Space trembled as light poured through windows, an ethereal blue with tinges of violet that made their skin crawl. A roar like a bomb detonating overhead forced everyone around Amy to the ground, clutching their ears and heads in pain. Glass from panes exploded inward, showering the room with shards. Ren broke free from the shock, managing to shield them with his body from the rain of shards.

When they had recovered from the blinding light and deafening boom, pokemon and people watched as forks of energy rose thousands of feet into the sky. The energy, shining a radiant blue, raged like condensed fire around a part of the city. It was like a blue star that had been brought down to earth for an instant. And then it dimmed.

Amy blinked away the flashing images from the light, disoriented for a moment.

The mass of brilliance stabilized. No… crystallized. The gigantic forks extending higher than even the skyscrapers of Castelia's financial district had also dimmed, becoming massive stalks of crystal, with some having pierced through several of the hopefully empty buildings. Lattices jutted out of the exposed wounds in the buildings, having merged with the structures as the energy that punctured them crystallized.

Slowly, the entire city began to flood the streets, all heading in a daze towards the epicenter of the light, stumbling and weak, where a hotel had burned to the ground a night before. In its place was a gigantic crystalline mass, rising like an iceberg over the place where the hotel had been. A light pulsed within, giving it the same glow as the skyscraper sized forks scattered around the city. As they arrived, they barely registered that the UFOs and the police were yelling at them to get back. They were just as uneasy on their feet as everyone else. Some people were shoved back, but the crowd pushed on.

When Amy reached the street outside the massive crystal structure, she noticed the smaller chunks on the floor. Multicolored like rainbows, they were disorganized and strewn about in a haphazard fashion with several larger chunks beside the smaller ones. The bigger chunks were more solidly colored than the paler, shimmering rainbow pieces, striking Amy as familiar in a way her hazy mind hadn't pieced together yet. But it kept insisting, like she was missing something important. Wisps of blue energy trailed in the air like smoke.

A blonde female operative beside her was yelling at a boy not to pick one of them up, something about radiation. That couldn't be right, could it? Seab nudged her, looking horrified at the prospect of touching radiated rocks, but his voice sounded distant. Transfixed by the stones, she knelt to pick one up. It was still warm, the entire formation just barely fitting in her hand.

In the middle of the crystal, fractalized patterns swirled and twisted. Almost like a... helix. Her heart began to pound in her chest. She dropped the chunk and gasped, finally looking around her as the realization pierced through the haze. The Unovans here didn't recognize what these were. But she was Hoenn born. She did. Gasps and intakes of breath told her that everyone who knew came to the same conclusion. Kalosians and Hoennites, and some other more informed parties most like. She quickly took the chunk and slipped it into her coat pocket. She stressed to Seab to pick one up too before the operatives began to shove people back when they noticed them picking the crystals up.

These were mega stones, and some were even keystones. Not in tiny, cut gems, but fist sized hunks of lattice that could make ten trainer accessories or more. Some were even bigger than that. There must've been dozens of them. Worth more than gold and they were everywhere here. Did they come from the structure?

Then she noticed the grave looks on the faces of the operatives and the police. Not at the crowd bursting in from all around the city, but at the floor. At the graying ashes and blackened marks staining the area around the mega stones. Beneath her feet were black ashes, and she could almost see the shape they had formed on the scorch marks below. A girl. Beside her, a larger ash stain smeared the concrete. Castelia's cold winter breeze seemed to sharpen as Amy's stomach turned.

There were larger outlines; irregular and misshapen, some appearing bipedal, others quadrupedal, and others winged and massive. Their pokemon. And the shape of the rocks were almost like— She palmed the chunk in her pocket and her hand shook.

Like hearts.

An entire street shimmered in the eerie blue light, glinting ominously off the scattered crystals.

---

Am I still alive?

Riven reeled in disorientation, patting himself down with his hands. He couldn't see or hear with the ringing in his eardrums and the blinding flash of light, but he could certainly feel his hands, and Flannery's he presumed from how cold they were. She was currently pawing at his face, blindly.

Gently seizing her hand and squeezing it to no doubt give her the assurance that they were alive, he could feel the tension in her arm disappear. He poked Morty's knee on his right, who answered by lifting his leg in confirmation. Good.

Leaning his head back into the seat and letting out a giant breath, Riven felt the tension in his body deflate, leaving him feeling like a puddle of goop with legs. Nobody was critically injured and they weren't in some weird death limbo or in a nightmare world. Off to a great start after a legendary attack, as far as things were considered. When his eyesight and hearing returned a better assessment of damages could be made, but so far he was glad their entire airship didn't get vaporized.

His eyes were still dazed like someone had set a flashbang off in front of his face, along with a faint ringing of the ears. The airship must've been fine and not hurtling toward the earth like a small comet if they didn't feel gravity pulling them down fast enough to make their stomachs churn. So, they were still hovering. Rather stably too. The air wasn't trembling anymore, either. Their eyesight returned quicker than their hearing, and the only injury larger than a bruise was Sela's scalp wound. It was still hard to hear, but they could communicate finally.

Riven stumbled out of the harness, practically throwing himself to the floor as his limbs felt more like a mass of gelatin than solid flesh and bone. He smashed his face against the deck with barely a grunt and clawed his way forward, as if making it to the window was his sole goal in life.

"Nathan!" Flannery exclaimed, coming out of the harness. Similarly, she nearly ripped open her skull when she pitched forward and her arms failed her. She was lucky enough to land on her right arm instead of her face. "W-what's going on with our bodies?"

Morty, Sela, and Viola examined their hands and legs, each noting the tingly weakness in them. "Feels like I've been at batting practice with a steel bat for a whole day. With fastballs being thrown by a Machamp," Sela noted. "Remember the air was vibra— Nathan what the hell are you doing? Get back in your seat!"

Riven hadn't noticed the shouting, driving forward painstakingly slow. "Castelia…" Please. Please spare the city. He pushed himself up with his arms, hoping with everything he had the city was still there. Another city gone. Amy, Seab, Allen, Burgh… Don't do this to me.

Flannery crawled towards the panel after him, while the other three looked up and swallowed, the awe and horror evident on their faces as they focused on what was beyond the glass.

Castelia stood, illuminated by the lights of the city in the night, yet the sight was overshadowed by an all-together different light.

An ethereal glow surrounded the city, with a pillar of beautiful blue rising into the air in a thin beam of light from somewhere inside the city. Forked trails of shimmering blue energy extended for miles around the city, translucent and burning bright—like cracks on a pane of glass that was the world, the sky its backdrop. But it was still there. Castelia wasn't destroyed.

"It's not gone," Nathan said, slamming a fist against the window. His breath caught, his shaking lessening. "The city is fine. Burgh's okay… Burgh's..." He rolled over onto his back, unable to support his weight on just his arms. His breathing seemed to come back all at once, gulping down heaving breathes as if he'd been drowning moments before.

Flannery shakily made it to her feet, settling into a crouch over Nathan, staring at guilt ridden blue eyes. "Are you okay, Nathan?" He blinked, the guilt disappearing after a groan. A finger pointed to his chest as he grimaced. His ribs, right.

"There's no telling what the situation is on the ground just yet," Morty advised, still watching the shrinking view of the cityscape. "I don't like the look of that light. And those trails… If there was a blast—"

"A lot of people could've been hurt," Viola finished grimly. "We're too far to tell the damage on the ground. What about the other leaders? Some of them could've been closer than we were."

"I'll bang on the cockpit door," Sela announced, unbuckling. "Flannery, pick Nathan up the floor and get strapped in again." She grumbled to herself, using the walls to support her weakened limbs. Banging on the door, Sela barked at the pilot, asking if he wasn't dead in there while trying to effectively smash in the walls with her fist.

The intercom came to life, with a very irritated pilot on the other side. "Strap the hell in, woman! I can already see you bleeding all over the damn deck! If you can stand up enough to scare the shit out of me, you can get the first aid kit out of the wall panel, stop that scalp wound from bleeding, and sit your ass down. There's a damn trail!" Sela looked about ready to tear open the door with her bare hands. The pilot must've swerved, because the ship jerked, knocking Sela off balance. "My ship, my rules! As if fuckin' legendary pokemon nearly taking us down wasn't enough! I don't need you yackin' my ears off too! Butt on the seat, now!"

The Sinnohan leader all but hissed.

"Are the other leaders okay?" Viola asked the air, holding a hand out for Flannery to steady herself.

"Yeah, their airships were far enough away from the turbulence. Other pilots' ships are still green on my screen, so they're dandy. Any closer to the city and we might've had to make an… extra emergency landing."

"You mean crash," Riven put in flatly as Flannery helped him onto the seat.

"Yeah, crash. Disappointed I left out the fiery part? Tends to scare people."

"Does it matter? You end up dead either way." The leader swallowed uncomfortably as the other four glared at him. "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous. Any word from the ground?"

"Nothin', just a bunch of static. Looks like whatever them legendaries did, it messed with the radio signals quite a bit. City's intact, but damage on site might be catastrophic. Not sure. I put our ride in autopilot before we got blinded, just in case. We're flying over the desert now, and now way am I going back to Castelia when that blue shit is still up there. Could be fuckin' radiation or something, never know. So unless one of the big shots gives us an all clear once the interference goes away, we're landing in Nimbasa first, getting details, then we'll talk about flying back with a military escort. Without all the VIPs. That means all of you lovely guys and gals." He noticed the way the more experienced leaders' faces cringed at mere mention of the military. "Oh, come on, they're not that bad."

"Yes, they are," Morty and Flannery agreed roughly, drawing stares. "Don't ask."

"Bunch of critics, we deal with what we got. Until then, stay locked in in case whatever abomination did that decides to swing back 'round. Nothin' more you all can do for Castelia right now, let the officials and the champ sort it out. You all stay put and make sure no one kills you in the meantime."

Arguing with that logic was difficult, even for Sela, who had adamantly tied a bandage to her head and unhappily strapped herself back in, mentioning several times how much she hated this country. They all wanted to know what was happening in Castelia, glued to their phones and casters to see if they could pick up any sort of signal. But considering they were in Unova's largest, and emptiest wasteland, that proved to be difficult too. Riven was just glad they were in an air conditioned, flying machine instead of hoofing it on the ground. His experience with deserts in the wild had a lot left to be desired. Nearly dying once of dehydration was bad enough.

Inevitably, the worst part was the waiting, as usual.

All he could manage between the steady hum of the ship, the awkward quiet of the deck, and the nerves was to try and convince himself that what happened wasn't his fault. That he hadn't been the one that attracted the legendary pokemons' notice. But he had. It gnawed at him, not knowing the extent of the casualties.

They evacuated everyone, gave a warning, and even then he wasn't sure if it had been enough. Morty was right about the extent of the damages, what if the buildings were intact but the people got ripped apart? Erased? Temporally displaced and thrown into another era like he had. An existence like that he wouldn't wish on anyone. Or… No, best not think like that. He'd find out soon, but the anxiety was killing him. Steven was probably well on his way to a mental breakdown, a journey to the center of a whiskey bottle to find moral redemption, or tearing his hair out in clumps—not even mentioning what Alder was doing, assuming he wasn't ashes on the floor of a building somewhere. At that point, the Unovan champion most likely had to have been considering taking a shot of battery acid instead of the usual swill.

Yet people called him crazy. Honestly speaking, the real crazy ones were the ones trying to be champion. Especially if they knew what they were in for. Just dealing with the press alone was enough to get most of the leaders spitting acid, let alone the champion.

And the public was going to go apeshit without a doubt after this. Guaranteed. To the media it'd be like throwing a boatful of Magikarp into a pool of ravenous Sharpedo. With the rest of the screw up that had been the UFO response plan to the reemergence of Sayre's little cult, things were going to get very difficult with the general public. Zachary had hoped to bring back some of that interregional competitive spirit after the Sinnoh debacle; whatever he was planning was most likely dead in the water now. Maybe the situation was still salvageable, but things were looking like a platter of prime shit, with extra servings.

That haunting otherworldly view of Castelia further solidified that. At some point, the forking and undulating energy trails stopped moving, seemingly solidifying into crystal formations thousands of feet high. That was terrifying in its own right. Castelia would be another wonder of the world after this, that much was sure.

Unova's very own Anistar city. The parallels were certainly surprising, raising a few suspicions in his mind. Maybe more than a few. His eyebrows climbed. He'd have to ask Viola about that, maybe suggest it idly as an observation. That was the future, another day, another time. The problem was dealing with the now.

No doubt someone stupid out there would blame their Sinnohan counterparts for this. Combined with the rest of the factors, that meant that he had to get the other leaders to safety quickly and keep them locked up in the gym or his place, before they got jumped by an angry mob of Unovans with pitchforks and hunting rifles that would absolutely degenerate into a pokemon slugfest with added sides of broken bones and lacerations. If they were lucky. He eyed Sela briefly, who seemed to be trying to bore a hole through the deck with her eyes. Yeah, that'd go over well. Actually, he wasn't sure Nimbasa would go over well at all. It was a city full of debauchery, wasteful spending, vanity, and-if you dug deep enough- rampant crime. He was a cynic, sure, but there was only so much the most optimistic of people could overlook, and after a legendary attack on a major city, that patience shrunk drastically.

Riven banged his head against the seat's headrest with a thud. He didn't need his special sight to see what the others were feeling. Their faces said enough. Morty tried to say something encouraging, but Riven wasn't pay attention.

Silence followed by the occasional rocking of the ship was the only constant in their uneventful ride to Nimbasa. No one bothered much with small talk, for obvious reasons. The desert below was too dark and sparsely populated to see much of anything, their interest rising when the leaders began to see the dim lights of civilization along the routes. When the full splendor of Nimbasa's nighttime landscape came into view, Riven frowned, staring off into the distance. He hadn't seen Nimbasa in over six years, but nobody here knew that, and he couldn't tell anyone either. Did he even remember the streets? How to get back home?

To his home. That's right, he did have a home. His own space away from constant surveillance. That was an odd positive.

His gym trainers were… they were still there, they'd be the same. Obviously they would, wouldn't they? Not having aged six years. Nothing had. Except him, and his team. Some of them bore the marks of battle and the desperation of fighting for life. Others grew more noticeably, like Omy. That was another issue. Maya would notice, she'd been a trainer long enough to know how pokemon battles and injuries worked. He wouldn't be able to give her a straight answer, and if it came down to Elesa and Burgh…

Time travel. So much for a good super power. He thumped his head on the headrest a few more times, letting out several sighs.

"You've been doing that this whole time. Breathe," Morty advised, forcing a smile. He was trying to be encouraging again. Riven was half tempted to tell him to piss off, but that was rude. "Worried about Castelia?"

Another thump.

The blonde man frowned, turning to the window. "There's no point in blaming yourself for something you can't stop."

Riven glanced slightly at him. "Who said I was—"

"I see that face often in Ecruteak," Morty explained quietly. "There was nothing to be done. I spend quite a lot of time studying the legendary pokemon of Johto. All the powerful pokemon in the world wouldn't have made a difference. Not with whatever made that. Some Legendary pokemon… their power can't be measured. Can't be stopped. I don't think Ho-oh could have been capable of such, and legends past have said that when enraged, the legendary bird's flight could burn entire country sides to the roots. But to break the sky itself? This is a whole other level of power…"

Riven glanced away, shoving down his irritation. Ho-oh's like a baby in comparison. We're lucky the Creation Trio have restraint.

With the domains they ruled over it made sense. Yveltal was not so generous in its madness. It didn't have to be. Death was rather straight forward after all, doesn't matter how it's dealt as long as it is. It could erase half a city with a mere attack, Dialga could crush it like an egg if it simply wanted to. Palkia more so. Honestly, they could probably rearrange entire landscapes in an afternoon and barely notice the expenditure. His ploy had worked, but to what extent? He glanced at Viola, wondering if Yveltal woke again in this age with a hunger to consume everything, unlike its premature awakening under Lysander. From what he'd heard of Lysandre's demise, the oversized death bird had been almost lucid at times.

A far cry from the Yveltal that had attacked the Celebi in the past. Why was that? Was the lack of Origins in this era the reason or was it a result of being less starved?

Taking one last look in the direction of Castelia and seeing nothing but rolling desert, he chewed on that for far too long.

Entering the city outskirts, the airship was guided to the Nimbasa recreation center, not too far from Elesa's gym. They could already see a crowd gathered at the base of the building, even this late at night. Sela drew a grunt of sheer disdain, just knowing this was going to suck. Riven couldn't much disagree with that. People didn't gather in such large groups in Unova for a bunch of foreigners after a city nearly exploded. Not for anything good, and everyone knew it. The pilot went out to meet whoever was receiving them, while the leaders remained inside the airship, waiting.

Nothing had come out of Castelia for hours, apparently the phenomenon occurring above the city was disrupting cell service and most radio based communications. When Riven's tenth call to Burgh finally went through and a very choppy sounding Burgh picked up, Riven nearly dropped his holo caster.

"Burgh!" He exclaimed, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Are you alright?!"

The other leaders immediately followed suit, making calls of their own.

"Yeah, I'm… we… blue everywhere!" Burgh replied, voice cutting off multiple times. The signal was poor, and most of what Riven was able to hear was full of static distortion. The call then cut off abruptly as the service died off again.

He frowned, thinking the worst until a minute later Burgh sent him a message.

We're fine. little shaken up but whole city under lockdown. Entire blocks out of power. Panic in the streets. Nobody knows whats going on. Authorities scrambling. Spotty power grids. Alder lance zachary tripping over trying to figure out what to do. Ops fidgety. Situation horrible for 1 reason. NO COFFEE. Civil unrest. Get leaders safe.

A picture of an empty coffee cup and an utterly grumpy Volkner in front of a coffee machine came in shortly after. Looked like they were out of power in that sector too. Riven sighed in relief, chuckling at the picture. At least that meant the leaders, champions, and Elite Four members were fine, if a bit inconvenienced. A lot of the operatives were running on no sleep as is, and a cranky Elite Four was never a good sight. Shauntal had a habit of being absolutely insufferable without her morning fix of caffeine, something she was quite known for publicly.

Glad that Burgh wasn't a smudge of ash, he exchanged more messages with his more immediate friends, urging Gale and Will that he was safe. He sent messages to Amy and Seab, but neither responded. A knot of worry formed and he had no choice but to shove it aside. Steven checked in on him too, glad to hear everyone was in one piece. His group responded similarly, sending messages to whomever it was they considered close, judging by their expressions and shaky breaths after the fact.

As information became more readily available coming out of Castelia, they checked the newsfeeds for the extent of the damages. Naturally, it was the most talked about topic on the web in every region as more people desperately reached out to family and friends overseas, speculation and conspiracy theories running wild from somewhat sensible to outright insane.

Viola chewed on a fingernail as she read headline after headline just as Sela's scowl deepened, Flannery frowned, and Morty tapped on in silence. Dozens of people in the surrounding area of ground zero injured by window glass lacerations, others hit by debris from the blast wave, and several buildings sheared through by the energized trails as they had emerged, slicing through metal and concrete like a heated knife through butter. Luckily, they'd been commercial for the most part. If Riven could stand above the city, he just knew that his sight would have flared up like a star with the hazy, stomach chilling color of fear.

Kyurem had once frozen a city, something the people of Unova and Opelucid could vividly recall. Winter in Unova wasn't only harsh—it was a grim reminder of the devastation that sheer cold could bring. Amputated limbs, ruined skin, and a profound fear of chilling cold marked the survivors of the Freeze, ominous reminders of the legendary pokemon's power.

Castelia, too, would remember. Except they had no idea what had caused such a powerful entity to appear—definitely not the Plasmas this time. Unovan Field Operations, the local police, as well as the Unovan military reserves were acting quickly, evacuating citizens to other parts of the city while they gathered their bearings and calmed the hysteria with limited success.

Some posts on social media and the like were—as Riven had predicted—blaming the foreign gym leaders for it, as if they somehow possessed the insane ability to summon forth demigods at a whim. It was ridiculous. Ridiculous enough to gain fervor and devolve into something dangerous to galvanize the more extreme members of Unova's population, and boy were there a lot.

The scene of uniformed men in fatigues, black rifles in hand and stern, battle ready pokemon alongside them didn't bode well.

Looked like Allen wouldn't be getting that rest after all. And neither will we. Not with that angry crowd down there. No military men here.

The timing of the legendary attack and the arrival of the leaders did seem suspicious at best, giving credence to anyone that didn't believe in coincidences and a finger to point otherwise. Part of that was Steven's timing, but with an insistent, borderline annoying mind-addled Celebi hounding him the entire way, Riven presumed that Steven had tried his best to get here as soon as he could. With the leaders all being in Castelia, he did the only logical thing he could. Save time and group up in a convenient location in a city they were already in. Obviously, neither of them knew that returning to the present time would suck this much. Or that their Celebi would get blown in half by Yveltal.

Alas, no plans survived contact with the enemy.

Or rather, in this case, plans got blown to smithereens by dimensionally challenged godlike beings. Giratina not coming to play was the real miracle here, because if it had…

Riven shuddered uncomfortably. He viewed a photo of the Castelian night sky taken by a resident in one of the high-rise buildings overlooking most of Castelia a few minutes ago and wished he never saw the full extent of Dialga and Palkia's powers. The whole city looked like a ghostly fantasy land destined for doom. Any regular person would be rightly shitting themselves, and he'd be right there with them. Legendary pokemon were terrifying.

People were at least able to be stopped.

That made the sinking feeling in his stomach worse, tightening it until he felt almost nauseous. He'd known it was coming, and he'd prepared for his return to the future for months, years even, being advised by the time stranded researchers turned spies as best as they could. While he thought he could handle what time travel could throw at them after the utter nightmare that was Yveltal's casual stomping, Riven found himself decidedly less sure seeing the ground view of something he had indirectly caused.

Nerves thoroughly jostled, he found himself bristling at the thought of an angry mob screaming and ready to come to blows, palming a hidden knife. Instinct was begrudgingly abandoned, trusting that their security would be enough to prevent any stupidity, though a cynical part of him very much doubted it. But on the flip side, he couldn't just go out there, start stabbing people, and expect things to end up well for him. Conversely, he couldn't let his other leaders get fed to a bunch of bloodthirsty reporters and even more bloodthirsty people. Especially not Schaffer. She'd fall for any sort of bait hook, line, and sinker. If he wasn't directly responsible for her well-being, he might've encouraged it for entertainment value. But he was, which frustrated him.

The dynamics of the modern world were complex and difficult as always, many different beliefs and ideologies congealing into the mass of anger he currently saw as a rising cloud from above. An ugly, red haze. The silver lining being that everyone was frightened by the legendary attack, not just the regular citizens that had nothing to do with Singularity, mercenaries, or Sayre followers.

Everyone wanted answers. Naturally, they did what most panicked and angry people did. They came to authority first while shouting things at very stressed and jumpy officials in the middle of the night, a hair's breadth away from outright violence. Unfortunately, there's always one idiot in a crowd that starts flinging rocks.

While demanding answers from the leaders, tensions flared almost instantly as someone mistook a soda can for a pokeball and a fight had broken out on the ground level amongst the angry crowd, which the UFO and the local police had to interfere in. Aggressively interfere in.

Imagining this playing out in a worse capacity in Castelia, Riven rubbed his head, leaning over a safety rail at the chaos below and making himself breathe with practiced patience. He whispered quietly as he tried his best to block out the effects of the anger coming from the crowd, already more than eager to crack a few skulls against his will should he let their emotions get to him. He bet that if he'd been at the center of that, his ability would've gone out of control within moments, inflaming an already tense situation into a wildfire of a shitstorm. With possible dead. Unlocking his ability was something he'd been preparing for also, but Hasei's absence was really showing now that they were back in the present.

His hands shook as he clenched his teeth against the emotion. Wearing those Diancie beads so close to his skin was like having a bad itch and being unable to scratch it, but at least they had protected him from himself. With no way to get more easily, he lamented their loss for the peace of mind they gave him.

The people of this era were much looser in their thoughts and emotions without overbearing psychic overlords and strange extra dimensional crystals in the mix. Which meant practice. Practice in exchange for headaches and near mental breakdowns. Fun, but worth it, he told himself. Silver linings and all that. Positivity, forward thinking, and… Who was he kidding? Feeling others' worst thoughts was a shit deal.

Dark type. Couldn't just blow air around like Gale instead, could you? Although… I could probably be the best psychologist in the world with this ability.

A sight to see that'd be. Gale would laugh herself sick if she ever saw him in an office listening to other people's problems.

He shook the thought loose, smiling to himself as he pictured her giggling. Things at least hadn't gone to all hell here, luckily, though it was close enough. As long as he got the other leaders out of there and avoided the crowd entirely. Which meant they need to leave relatively quietly. That would be hard from up here and with four others. Conventionally, anyway. He muttered lowly to himself. "Out of one hole and into another…"

"I'm not going down there," Sela declared, leaning over the rail as well. Three other pairs of eyes joined her and immediately agreed with collective winces.

"Are they getting…" Flannery blinked in horror. "—gassed? What's going on down there?"

"Tear gas. I assume someone chucked a rock at one of the police," Morty said.

"Soda can," Nathan corrected. "Looked like a pokeball in the dark. Exploded on a helmet and kicked things off. Got a baton to the mouth, think he'll need some dental work done."

Morty instinctively worked his jaw. "Usually sets off the gas and beatings, Falkner says. It was especially bad during the height of the Rockets, and this was in Johto. Unova is a lot more snappy with the things. The protests and violent crowds, I mean. I heard the Plasmas had instigators escalate situations like this. Grunts often blended with the crowd to sow discord and spread their message."

"Helps when you have a good message."

"Yeah, it does."

"Who would be doing that in a situation like this, though?" Viola asked.

"I don't think that's what's happening here," Nathan replied, studying the crowd intently. He tilted his head like a Noctowl. Flashes of color apart from red drifted from beneath the cloud of Other. Fear. "They're just scared. Angry and scared. Makes people do stupid things. Still means I'm not letting Ms. Schaffer anywhere near them, though. We'd have an international incident within the day. Well, another international incident. Racking those up lately, aren't we?"

She gave him a look, to which he shrugged.

"Let's not pour more gasoline on an open fire, despite how fun a good bar fight can be. Any other day I'd say go nuts. But not today. And besides, I'd rather not have you lose another tooth in yet another brawl with a pissed off crowd. If pokemon come out, someone might get their face smashed in on accident. That'd be bad. For us and you."

The Sinnohan woman smirked dangerously at that. Her smile was whole. Leaders had good dental plans too. "Read about that, did you?"

"Being informed of who I'm letting into my gym and my house is important. I saw you at the airport slug a guy, too. Which is also exactly why you're not going near any reporters or belligerent idiots as long as you're here. And why you're all getting escorted to the gym by uniforms, badges, guns, and lots of strong pokemon. We're taking no chances here and I don't want a false narrative of Sinnohans being violent psychopaths to keep spreading. Some of you are nice, I'm sure."

"Hah. Unovans saying we're violent?" Sela balked. Nathan agreed, waving a hand in the air.

"I don't get them either, doesn't mean you should antagonize them. All it takes is one idiot with a pistol and nothing left to lose. Or a team full of challenger grade pokemon and misguided thoughts of vengeance. That's much worse."

Viola pointed down. "Uh… They look pretty antagonized right now. The police look busy down there, how are we even going to make it out of the building?"

"What you think we're walking? When we've got attendants? Watch this." Nathan put a finger up, motioning over the operative that had been speaking to the pilot. Exchanging a few words, the operative nodded, spoke into his earpiece, brought out an Abra and disappeared in a pink flash.

"Teleport escort," Viola said, frowning. "I don't trust going places I haven't set my own two feet on."

Sela grunted in response. "You and I both. Never know who'll take you where. Can these operatives be trusted? The followers have infiltrated organizations before."

"They have, true. And I wouldn't go far as to say trust. Never trust anyone immediately," Nathan advised, drawing immediate unease. "Possibilities are just that. A less than one percent chance still has a chance to happen. Be certain, however, that no wackjob of a kid is going to infiltrate the Unovan Field Operatives willy-nilly. They'd get stopped by the first psychologist they meet. Those kids aren't the picture of stability, I've heard. The requirements, tests, and protocols are so extensive they make being a gym leader easy in comparison, all because they deal with the things we don't have to. The kind we tend to conveniently ignore, like murders and grisly maulings by unfriendly pokemon with lots of pointy teeth and claws. All that good stuff. I know how sketchy teleport usage can be in recent times, but the operatives assigned to this escort are all vetted via psychic as well."

He noted the disapproval at the mention of intrusive psychic interrogations. Abhorrent, to be sure, yet incredibly effective. He understood the need, but it hardly prevented the goosebumps from trying to think about something else rifling through his brain against his will. Not that they could unless they used Miracle Eye and risked mental damage to do it.

"You'll be fine… ish."

"…Ish?" Flannery questioned, jumping when light flashed again and several armored operatives appeared on the roof, eyes drawn to the pokeballs and pistols sitting ominously on their person. Riven waved with a smile as the four could barely manage an angry yelp before strong grips and psychic holds grabbed hold of them and vanished.

Riven instantly relaxed. He beamed at the uniformed squad behind him. "What a fucking day. Wow, sent me some vets, did they? Am I really that high of a priority?"

The operatives eyed him and shook their heads. The leader of the squad, a greying man with a nasty looking scar that had carved out a part of his cheek that went by Jaylin Cobb, pointed at him with a gloved finger, goggles slightly smudged and cracked. He and Allen were friends he'd heard.

"Yes, apparently you are. You know, having to have special extraction procedures for you is extremely annoying, Ethne. Can't teleport. And requesting an operative with a ghost that knows shadow sneak instead of a bird. What kind of bullshit is that? You think ghost trainers grow on fucking trees? You're lucky the higher-ups bend to your every whim. With the way the pencil pushers talk about you I'd have expected you to be built like a goddamn Abomasnow, not a damn pretty boy that found a coat. At least the other kid makes barbecues easy, and your girlfriend is polite and useful for recon with those eyes of hers. All you do is cause us problems. You pushing your luck or something?"

"Completely," Riven laughed, enjoying the rise he got out of the man. Will being used as a low cost lighter for operative potlucks was a hilarious thought. "Believe me, I'd love being able to grab a psychic and end up half a region away but sometimes you have to appreciate the classic ways of both travel and escape. Psychics are spoiling the lot of you, it's kind of shameless, actually. What happened to good old dashing escapes across rooftops and the like, eh? I suppose it lets you all slack on the cardio, which shows, by the way."

He pointed at Jaylin's belly. Which counted for nothing because he was the fittest middle-aged man Riven had ever seen. The older man's mouth twitched.

"When you talk like that it's hard to remember you're a few grains short of a Sayre. And you're representing our region? Fucking hell, gives me the creeps." The older man pointed out with a sniff. "Sometimes that act you put on is almost convincing, Prime. Going for the eccentric shtick, huh?"

"Sorta. Got to play to my strengths. Being built like a five hundred pound hunk of muscle would be very detrimental for that, wouldn't it?" Riven replied, his smile wide. Jaylin grunted in response. "Pisses off Schaffer and it's incredibly fun too, so I need to turn up the dial a few notches for our foreign friends, which explains the ghost. Normalcy is boring. Got to make an impression."

"Can you make an impression without wasting our time, then? Stupid merc." The gym leader held a wicked gleam in his eye. Jaylin shook his head again. "Explains why Pershing's life has been so miserable lately. Wouldn't want his job. Babysitting you must suck."

"Allen. Is he alright? With Castelia—"

"He's fine," Jaylin assured, waving a hand. "Like a dead man walking from lack of sleep like all of us, but otherwise fine. What isn't fine is Castelia right now, got his hands full with that. Apparently, they found some sort of rocks or crystals near ground zero, no idea what that's about. Whole situation there is too weird for me anyway. Give me good old fashioned human problems over legendary bullshit any day."

An operative behind him snickered.

"That's because you're a geriatric, sir. You complain about every assignment. Shoulda retired years ago, gramps."

"Shut up, Simon. If I wanted your opinion, I still wouldn't ask for it."

Interest immediately piqued, Riven ignored their banter, rubbing his chin. "Odd rocks? That's weird. Debris maybe? What do they look like? Are you sure you should be telling me this, anyway?"

"Eh, doesn't matter… I'm sure it'll come up on the internet within the hour. Lots of civvies around the area before we got a chance to shoo them all away. Can't hold back half a city. Halfway drunkenly shambled in too, like they were called over. Unsettling, tell you that much. Not a single one without a phone in their hands recording everything in sight to post on social media or whatever stupid thing they use these days. Rocks looked strange though, they were glowing. Concrete don't shimmer like that. Glass doesn't either. Must've come from whatever that legendary did—which means, I sure as hell didn't try to touch them. Could've been radioactive. Shitty way to die."

"Good instincts."

"I'm old. You don't get to be that way in the force if you're stupid. Your ride should be getting here soon. Hastings is coming in from Aspertia, just for you. Next time you should take a cab."

"But then I wouldn't be able to chat with you like this. It's quite refreshing."

Jaylin grunted again.

A minute later, a tall operative with curly red hair and freckles flashed into view, stumbling a bit with a curse. He was young, his belt holding four pokeballs of varying grades and styles. Not the operative standard red and white. Ah, a trainer that became an operative, just like Maya. A few years older, from the way he seemed to carry himself. Will, Gale, and Maya still had habits leftover from civilian life compared to the older operatives, who'd had the discipline and routine beaten into them, and the sense of humor either obliterated or replaced by some dark eldritch object throughout the years. Allen was a clear-cut operative too, and he wasn't nearly as much of a stick in the mud as Jaylin. Maybe that's why he got all the troublemakers.

"This the guy?" Hastings asked flatly, holding out a pokeball. Jaylin grunted in acknowledgment. The ginger quizzically raised an eyebrow, then nodded. The pokeball opened to release a Sableye, who stared up at Riven and cracked open a sinister, toothy grin. "Alright, boss, where to?"

"Nimbasa gym, top level. Maintenance closet. I know you fuckers have been there before. My Galvantula fried a 'secret' listening device in there by accident. Then I started finding them everywhere. If I found one in the toilet in my house, I'd have already thrown Yates out of a window. Seems even the UFO have limits."

Which wasn't true because he was lying about that. He had no idea if they bugged his house, but it seemed prudent to check once he got home. Hastings spared a cursory look towards Jaylin, but the older man otherwise didn't appear concerned about the request, or the bugs. Yates had quite the reputation for being a shady asshole.

"So, is there a problem with my request, operative? Or will I have to throw that snoopy bastard out a skyscraper after all?"

"No problems here, sir. Just wouldn't advise doing that. Building and the concrete just got renovated. Having Yates smeared on it would ruin the property values by default." Jaylin gave a slight snort. Hastings turned to face his superior. "Sir?"

"Just get on with it," Jaylin said, shooing them away. "We'll try to hold off the pitchforks for a bit, Ethne. But know that the crowd might just march on over to your gym and try to kick down the door. Then probably your fancy little penthouse if that fails. That'll rile the rich folk up some. Get your team ready. This goes without saying, but don't kill anyone. We got enough messes to clean up as it is. Don't add your shit to our pile too."

Riven wanted to shoot a snappy remark, instead holding it in and deciding to take one last look at the crowd as he walked over to Hastings and his ghost. Swirling masses of color put him on edge, turning away from the sight. With a wave of Hastings' hand and the cackle of a Sableye, the shadows beneath them expanded into a pool of darkness, ominously trailing wispy coattails of ghostly energy. Riven walked off the edge into the black and felt odd when he suddenly felt gravity flip. That was strange, it was almost as if he was upside… down.

Oh, he was.

Fucking ghosts.

---

There was a reason Viola didn't trust teleports. Ending up in a pitch-black space was one of them. A heart attack was another. She mentally went through the worst scenarios imaginable until she heard Sela stumble about and curse with a shuffling of feet. Flannery yelped at one point, having been caught by Morty to save her from falling over.

Unfortunately for Viola, she was standing right in front of an extremely bright flashlight that flared to life as one of the operatives switched it on.

"Gah!"

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, quickly shifting the beam away from her eyeballs. "Leader Nathan has a weird tendency to kill the lights every time he closes up. Says it makes a better safe spot in case of potential attacks. I don't know how his gym trainers manage, honestly. It's dark as hell in here. Elesa always had some form of neon lights in here at night."

The light beam whirled around, blinding a few more people.

"Nathan wearing a bulletproof vest at the airport wasn't a one off thing, then?" Flannery asked, continuing to aimlessly stumble around in the dark. "He's just- agh- like that?"

"Uh, kinda? He's a little strange. In the meantime, we'll get the lights switched on but please watch your step, leader Nathan's gym isn't exactly… ground level."

Not daring to move in case of pitfalls, the leaders and the rest of their escorts remained glued to their spots, in total, uncomfortable darkness. They heard whooshes of teleports being used and tensed appropriately, until the lights came back on a few minutes later, finally illuminating the infamous gym that had reportedly stonewalled half of Unova's training circuit for the better part of a month. There were even mentions that the centers had started serving heavily protein-based foods and protein pancakes as a result. And that gym memberships had exploded. Curious, at least until one took a good look at Nathan's gym and wondered why in god's name he was the fourth in the circuit.

The damn gym was a barbaric collection of bars, hoisted rails, climbing points, monkey bars, handholds, vertical bars and other various instruments of upper body torture. Just looking at it made Viola queasy, and she'd been in Grant's gym plenty of times when they had briefly dated. At least there were safety nets and soft mats for falling beneath the more treacherous parts in his gym. Which obviously did nothing to hamper the stringent upper body strength requirements to actually get up to the leader's platform, sitting high above the area where his gym trainers fought challengers. Very high up.

"It's like a ninja course," Morty noted, impressed. "Koga would love this. He must not get very many challengers. Most trainers outside of fighting specialists can't even do a pullup. I've never been an extremely fit guy but this is…"

"All I know is whoever designed that is evil," Flannery added. She examined her thin, but otherwise not very muscled arms and sighed. "I think I'd die if I attempted that. We don't have to do the course, do we?"

The operatives looked at each other and shook their heads. "You're not challengers, so I don't think he'd mind. Ethne was going to have an elevator installed to make it easier for non-challengers to get up there, but that would take a while to renovate with the original timeline of the Challenger Rush, so he opted out. Burgh pulled out some magic to get all this set up in time. We can help you up, or you can use your teams to do it."

As he finished, Sela—who'd been strangely quiet during everything—made her way to the first bar and started climbing. The other three didn't quite share her enthusiasm, using Flannery's Blaziken to carry them up one by one. Impressively, the bars seemed to be strong enough to withstand a Blaziken's kickoff. That made sense though, considering Nathan did have a Blaziken of his own.

Hearing strained grunting from below, Sela finally made the last jump, heaving and sweating from the climb up as she shed her winter jacket and breathed heavily. "I can… see… why… the kids hate him. That… was fun." Catching her breath for a moment, she let her body cool down. "Those scrawny kids have to cross a stupid desert from the south just to get here, then hit this ninja training course just to challenge the leader? The surveys suddenly make too much sense. I should give whoever made him the fourth a piece of my mind."

"That would be Alder," one of the operatives replied nervously. "I think… uh, you already gave him a piece of your mind. At the briefing. A very loud piece, uh, ma'am."

"Looks like I didn't give him enough then," she replied sharply, looking past the battle platform to the backstage of the gym, where the leader's quarters and living space was. Outside the entrance was the standard healing machine, and a… was that a coffee machine? "Is that a coffee machine?"

"Smoothie. He likes them a lot, and gives them out to challengers that beat him as a reward for the struggle. He doesn't really get to do that a lot, though. As you can probably tell."

They passed the entrance, coming to the backstage area that still had remnants of Elesa's influence. A fair bit more of her things were packed neatly away to the side, in case she wanted to come back. Otherwise, the space was very much tidy, but plain. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, some tables and chairs, and a sort of makeshift bar that had certainly belonged to Elesa judging from the aesthetic.

"Why's that? Apart from the whole fitness hell down there," Flannery asked, watching her reflection in the makeup mirror that had been secured to a wall. "He doesn't use his strongest to fight, does he? Me n' Morty are fourths too. We don't have to throw as many matches, but it's still a bit higher than the upper circuits."

"His Gallade and Blaziken don't really fight, no. They're more for security and give trainers rides back down for the most part. It's just… he believes that with the current training climate—" the operative nervously glanced at Sela, who blinked at him like a Noctowl ready to violently tear apart a juicy Caterpie. "—trainers should be ready for the unorthodox to occur at all times. We think he's a little paranoid. And maybe a bit creative with what he considers unorthodox."

"Sometimes he rings the bell after he attacks, complete with evil laughter," one of the other ops added in, chuckling a bit. "And prefers double or triple battles over singles. That throws a lot of kids off, but it's mostly to give his baby Blitzle some experience, I think."

"Aww, he's got a baby pony? Are Blitzles and Zebstrikas ponies?" Flannery wondered. "I remember fielding Cheri a few times when she was still a Combusken to get her some experience, given we don't get to travel much as leaders. Sometimes our challengers are more experienced, sometimes they're not. The flexibility is really nice."

Viola thought about that, not having put much emphasis on how difficult it was for leaders to switch out their gym pokemon once they got too strong for their position. She certainly had to do it often.

"Hmmm. I raise up a lot of baby pokemon too, mostly from breeders who need newly born bugs trained up for sale. Being the first in the circuit means it's easiest for me. My vets have the hardest time, unfortunately. They get really frustrated sitting in one place for too long, and the Santalune forest isn't an ideal training spot. They'll be happy to finally fight other pokemon near their level outside of Battle Chateaus."

"I've got the opposite problem," Sela added idly. "The upper crust of the training circuit gets the more determined trainers, and with that, comes elitist assholes that don't know how to hold back. Sending a fledgling pokemon out there would be irresponsible of me, and Snowpoint is inhospitable to anything that isn't an ice, rock, steel, or fire type. Makes the wild pokemon strong as all get out, too. Middle of the pack leaders have it the best, I think. Temperate cities being one of them. But forests and nice spring blooms sound like a nice change of pace. I can't remember the last time I wore a tank top like that. Or went outside without gloves. Wearing comfortable clothes is a privilege for me these days."

Viola reddened, glad her jacket was zipped up this time. Sela crossed her arms, squinting. "Never mind the baby talk, where is our guide? Did he disappear again? It's been like twenty minutes since we teleported, what is he doing?"

A loud crash came from a room behind them.

The operatives rushed to the door, weapons drawn. They slowly opened the door to reveal the man in question, currently holding onto a steel storage shelf while slowly picking himself up. He cursed loudly through a half-formed groan. They lowered their weapons. Nathan rubbed at his head and groaned again, mumbling something about ghosts and deserving something. Provided how the psychics next to the operatives hadn't reacted, he most likely didn't teleport over here.

Residual shadow crawled along the ceiling, dissipating after a moment.

"Did you shadow sneak here?" Morty asked, watching the shadows. He noted the state of the Unovan leader, who cradled his head from where he smashed it against the shelf of cleaning supplies. "…Head first?"

"I asked to make an entrance. To a ghost of all things. A bloody Sableye! Should've known."

Morty sported a knowing smile. "Exact words, Nathan. Exact words."

"Ghost kept its word. He did manage an entrance, at least," Viola remarked dryly. She took a picture to document his misery.

"Capturing a man at his lowest, huh? Uncouth of you, Viola. Do you have no love for your countrymen?" She snapped another. He stood up slowly and left the maintenance closet. "Stupid Sableye dropped me here upside down. Little asshole, I'll file a damn complaint see how they like it…" Nathan groaned, shuffling over to a refrigerator in the corner. "Oh, refrigerators! Thank god. Ice rooms are stupid, you have no idea how inconvenient they are. The olden days were just terrible!"

He retrieved a plastic bag and filled it with ice cubes from a tray, then wrapped the bag in paper. He waved at them limply with it, receiving multiple looks of confusion.

"Uh…I see you've had some time to look at the place. Welcome to the gym backroom. Area. Elesa used it to get ready for her shows. Haven't been able to renovate this area much yet, so there's something to be desired but I don't really live here so I don't much care anyway. If anyone comes in here to steal they won't find much of anything." He rubbed his hands together, gently setting himself down onto a nearby sofa with a tiny pained grunt. He settled the pack over his eyes, lazily circling a hand in the air. "So, what do you all think?"

"I think I understand why the trainers hate you, and why Nimbasa is the only city with centers serving protein pancakes. You're a sadist, or a gym rat. Maybe both," Sela replied bluntly. Nathan looked at her with one eye from beneath the icepack, holding onto a small cushion. He nodded rapidly. It looked ridiculous. "I did the course. Something must be really wrong with Alder to let you do something that unfair to a bunch of kids barely on their fourth badge. Most of them are what… thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Fourteen is a good age to start building up, let's not discriminate here. They should be eating more protein. Let them regain some of that weight they probably lost getting whipped around by that desert. I know something about getting stuck in extreme conditions. It's hard on the body, and nothing is going to stop trainers from thinking they're invincible unless they hit a wall. Especially in the early circuit, where growth is quick, battles are easy, and gym leaders throw matches." Nathan reasoned. Viola sighed while the others gave her reassuring comments. "And it's not sadism. It just encourages growth through spite. Never underestimate the power of trying to prove someone wrong. Worked like a charm on you, Schaffer, considering you ran the course instead of taking the easy way out. Good on you."

"How would you know that?"

"You're not wearing your jacket despite it being cold in here, and you're the only one sweating." His smirk of triumph earned him an icy glare instead. "I'm assuming the rest of you cheated? Because it," he stopped to sniff the air dramatically, "smells like filthy cheater in here. It positively reeks! What say you to defend yourselves, eh?"

He pointed the ice pack at them like a sword.

Shifting guiltily, the other three murmured justifications about why they were dirty, filthy cheaters. The more he heard the further he twisted his disapproving scowl of smug superiority. Nathan shamed them with a finger until everyone began ignoring him. As a peace offering, Nathan had made his way over to the machine and offered them all a round of smoothies. Viola's eyes narrowed as she continued to notice Nathan's odd behavior. He kept looking above them, then staring randomly into space like he was distracted by something before continuing on. She half wondered if the man was a machine in disguise that remembered it had to act like a person.

It was absolutely strange. She was going to find out what he was hiding, one way or another. She just had to wait for the right time.

---

An hour of sitting around and finding himself staring at the modern interior for far too long, Riven's holo caster jerked him back to reality when a ping of a text message went off. It was from Steven, a photo attached to the file. From a public news source. That wasn't good news at all.

Have you seen this? Leftovers from ground zero. Are those what I think they are?

Opening the file, Riven sucked in a breath, paling.

The image was blurry from the electronic interference, but what he could see made him clench his fist in anger and regret. Not at the Legendary that did this, but at himself. This… this was why humanity should not be allowed to meddle with time and space. He knew that. But he had no choice, no alternative. Nothing.

He'd done his best. That had to count for something. Didn't it? That didn't help at all. He clenched a fist so hard his fingers went white.

They'd evacuated everyone out of that hotel, but there was nothing he could have done to prevent anyone from sticking around, out of fascination or curiosity. And they had, because whatever traces of them had been obliterated and replaced with chunks of swirling, technicolored rocks morbidly similar in size to that of a human heart; it was the only thing left of their bodies that survived. While they were overshadowed by the towering formations of hardened electric blue crystal forks that had solidified shortly after the explosion, anyone with eyes could see that the chunks were no mere pieces of debris. Surely the authorities wouldn't overlook them. Some of the onlookers had pocketed some of them, so there were even more than what was shown.

Those crystal lumps were familiar to anyone who knew them for what they were, albeit in much smaller and more polished versions.

Rocks anyone in the training world would kill to have, or pay exorbitant amounts of money for. That glimmering he'd seen before on Steven's cuffs. Those were uncut keystones. Keystones surrounded by human ashes. And there were dozens of them, along with mega stones he couldn't accurately tie to any specific pokemon.

Right now everyone was scrambling and confused, so they wouldn't immediately recognize what the stones were. But someone intelligent would soon connect the dots if this wasn't handled properly. For years no scientists could clearly answer just where mega evolution stones came from, and human experimentation was always brought up with ethics concerns, so any attempts to discover the formation of keystones went nowhere. They weren't naturally occurring like regular evolution stones, so why were mega stones prevalent in certain pokemon and regions, and wholly absent in others? Nothing seemed to make sense, their rarity even more so.

Some were still convinced they were natural formations, scouring the regions for energy signatures that could possibly birth the stones, to no avail. No one could possibly think that humans, with how energetically poor they were, could possibly form something positively radiant with infinity energy like a keystone. It just didn't add up. At least, not without the knowledge of how Origins overloaded. Origins were unmatched in pulling energy into themselves compared to pokemon, but the downside was that their bodies weren't resistant enough to the influx of energy to compensate. And crystals were far more efficient a conduit than flesh, a form more desirable for energy equilibrium but not for the immediate survival of the Origin whose body was turning itself inside out. Unpowered would similarly reach a state like that as well, only they lacked any way to reliably harness the energy that fueled pokemon-like abilities, much less store it effectively.

Unless someone did it for them. Blake had used the analogy of a nuclear reaction to compare it to. After all, uranium based compounds didn't spontaneously create explosions, did they? No, stability was the tendency of the universe, in any and all things. And it wasn't always kind to living organisms in how it did that.

Legendary pokemon hadn't been factored into the theory due to the unlikeliness of a powerful enough legendary intervening. The kind with enough power to condense the miniscule amount of energy, of all types, within Unpowered in fractions of a second without dissipating it entirely. That either required immense control, or one very unfortunate, energetic accident. That ruled out more elemental and destructive pokemon like Groudon, Kyogre, or Yveltal. Their power would destroy a body completely, not change it. They didn't have the control or desire to do something like that.

But the Creation Trio did.

Castelia was good enough an example. Whatever Dialga and Palkia did, whatever caused those scars in the sky, it had emitted an incredible, almost impossible amount of energy that even legendaries wouldn't use on a regular basis. Not a deliberate attack—a by-product more like. They were trying to seal a dimensional rift, not attack something.

Hyper beams, after all, skip the keystone formation phase completely and go right to making people into nice little ash piles. Easy. If a pokemon wanted you atomized, that'd be the way to do it. No mess, no fuss. And usually, they did. Most powerful energy beams did straight forward things to the body.

Regardless, if people had been caught right at the center of that attack, an attack that rent time and space with its power…

To say they were dead was obvious, they were gone. The people they used to be. No, it was what they became that could send the world into a frenzy.

If people as barbaric and cruel as Ghetsis or the Rockets in charge of the creation of Mewtwo found the secret to creating keystones, then who knew to what ends they would go? New Mauville had been horrifying, and the Manectric there had been subjected to terrible experiments through Aberrancy to make them more receptive to energy absorption to mega evolve on their own. Enough to trigger the Tenebris inside their bodies into action despite close proximity to humans. A sentient… offshoot of pokerus that was twisted by something similar to the Creator's corrupted effects on Origin and pokemon flesh. Aberrancy was another issue they'd have to face later, when gym leaders weren't nearly getting assassinated. They didn't need mad scientists trying to capture Legendaries again in insane hopes of turning the masses into shiny rocks too.

Riven, careful to keep the impending sense of doom off his face, glanced at the other leaders, who seemed to be content idly chatting with each other and some of the operatives in the room. Bored and disinterested mask. Bored and disinterested. He was concentrating entirely too hard while typing away a response to Steven, feeling uncomfortably anxious.

You need to talk to Alder soon.

The response came quick.

I know. Have things to take care of first. Married couple you threw at me not helping. When will you meet H?

H arrives tonight or tomorrow without delays. He should be getting here soon, desert was clear. Braviary flight.

Good luck.

Chewing on a lip, he pocketed the device and began tapping a foot with mild concern. Some time later, one of the operative's held a hand up to his ear, muttering a curse under his breath. He waved to Riven, mouthing outside, crowd, angry. Nodding in response, Riven rose to his feet slowly and collected his nerve.

"Ahem," he said, clearing his throat. "It seems we may have an angry mob outside our door. Not to worry, the gym doors are reinforced steel now, which should hold up against bullets, most pokemon, and most explosives. As for dragons and Tyranitar… a little less so. Any psychic anchors made by psychic-locks, psy-locks, or anchors—however you want to call them— not belonging to operative partners have been broken, so no unnecessary psychic surprises, either. There is no reason to panic!"

Considering the silence he received, he figured maybe something was wrong with his smile? Too wide? He'd come a long way from where he'd been, surely it was magnitudes better now. Must've been the room.

Sela shot glares at the black clad operatives in the room, and Riven swore he heard one of them squeak. "Are we under attack? Again?"

"Not yet—I uh, mean no, uh… ma'am."

"We're not going to be used as bait again, are we? Are. We?" The operative, seasoned as he was, seemed to squirm under her gaze. Riven saved the poor guy, calling her off. She turned to him, already ready with a pokeball. "I'm getting real sick of this. What do you know?"

"I know they're angry?" He replied airily. "Then again, most Unovans are angry by default, so there's that. It seems the mob found out we weren't coming from the landing pad, so they went to the next logical solution. That being the gym, which, if you didn't notice, is huge and hard to miss. Even after removing most of the neon around the damn place, it's still too bright. They told me having it completely dark was out of the question."

"We can't keep running. They'll cause a scene here or at the gym tomorrow. Someone is going to have to make a statement," Morty observed. "I assume we're getting blamed for it regardless of what we do?"

"Of bloody course we are. None of us are Unovan, they're pissed, and tensions are high. Stay here. I'm going out there." Riven grunted with effort as he threw the ice pack behind him in a haphazard overhead toss, trying to stand. He groaned and sat back down. Everyone stared at him and he pretended not to notice. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead and addressed them.

"Look. It's my responsibility as your guide, wouldn't do to throw one of you out there to talk to the bloody sharks, would it? Ops, I want all of you to teleport around, find good high places and keep a close look on the crowd in case any one of them pulls out a piece and decides to end me. My Gallade will assist you. Hopefully I don't get shot in the face."

He threw a pokeball outward and was quickly startled when Sela moved to intercept it, catching it in her right hand. Minimizing it, she threw it back hard enough that Riven nearly fumbled the ball.

"Are you out of your mind? Did that shotgun rattle what little brains you have left? You think I'm just going to stand here and let our only guide in this moronic region go and get himself shot again? Your ribs would only slow you down in a fight and I've seen what crowds like that can turn into. Luck is the only thing that stopped that shotgun from ending you on that terminal. And you want to get back out there when you can barely stand without pain? If you're so eager to die, you can be stupid on your own time when the rest of us aren't going to get dragged down with you."

Astonishment spread throughout the others as Riven sat there, mouth slightly agape.

"Sela!" Flannery protested, but the woman didn't budge.

Riven held up a hand, frowning. Six years in the past had done a number on his memory. Especially on his hazy knowledge of the Sinnoh incident and everything that had happened to the people involved. Trainer murders on the routes, dead leaders, a tournament organized by sadists, a gym race more like a cruel joke, and a television personality setting a personal death trap for the winners of the race. And the disappearance of Cynthia as well. Things had gone from bad to worse. Much worse.

"No, no. It's alright. She… has reason to be concerned. Even if she could put it a little less bluntly."

"Less bluntly? Screw less bluntly. I am tired of funerals, Ethne," she ground out, looming over him with all her height. "I'm tired of losing people. Do you get that?"

Her words made him pause, and he nodded, something deeper in his eyes. Heavier. His lips twitched, and he glanced at the rest of them. They seemed to understand. "I do, but you should still work on your tact."

Annoyed, Sela ignored the comment.

"If anyone is going out there, it will be all of us, or none of us. If I have to use Dana to enforce that and manhandle you into compliance, I will." There was a slight pause as her stern expression faltered when she made a visible effort to calm down. "I apologize for the tone, not for what I said."

"Fair enough."

Glancing at the others, they shared concern. Riven thought about getting a Lopunny to carry him down the gym steps and saluted his manliness a good death. Revealing that he was actually fine would cause more problems about how he could heal so fast, which would open up another can of Caterpies, and he couldn't afford that.

Worked just as well this way too. The woman's logic was sound anyway, and the color that swirled around her revealed more pain than she would ever willingly show. Old wounds that still hadn't healed. They had lost several leaders in the incident, ones she must have been close with, or at least knew. He'd heard good things about all those they lost to the Sayres. He understood what an experience like that could do to people. His pride, whatever was left, would survive concession.

"Does anyone else agree with her?" He asked. Three hands rose in the air, drawing a tired sigh from him. "Alright then, I guess I got overruled on my own turf already. Wonderful. But I suppose Ms. Schaffer has a point, and not going out there by myself makes sense. A lot less fun, though…"

"Keep calling me Ms. Schaffer and you'll find out how less fun your life can get. It's Sela, not Miss," Sela said sharply. Riven held up his hands, apologizing.

Morty laughed nervously, trying to undermine the tension. "The first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one. Right?"

Riven shared a wry look with the operatives in the room. "I'll be the first to admit that we have a lot more than just one problem, Mort. That being said, since this is your call, Sela, how do you want to do this in a way that doesn't get us assassinated? Since, as you say, my plan was bordering on stupidity. I'd prefer aggressive improvisation these days, but I digress."

"The plan is simple. We march out there and dare them to try something."

He eyed her curiously for a moment. Then tapped at his temple with a finger. "You know that sounds an awful lot like my plan. Did I lend you a brain cell? I don't have too many of those left you know."

Flannery giggled as Sela crossed her arms, scowling. Her ears went pink as she tried to force down her embarrassment.

"I admit it's not much different than yours. Except while my plan involves safety in numbers, your plan would leave you wide open to any sneak creeping up behind you to put a pistol to your head. Then it's lights out. That's how the followers killed so many strong trainers, and leaders—catching them by surprise. It's utterly stupid. So that doesn't leave us much of a choice," she reasoned. "There's no time for complex plans where we end up looking good. We need to appear strong as a group, Unovans don't like us anyway, right? So, let's go out there and show them we're not pushovers. We go out there headstrong, heads held high, and show them."

Riven rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I do like shows."

The Unovan leader dubiously mulled it over, then glanced at the other dignitaries. They seemed to agree with Sela's assessment, having drawn the same conclusions. Nobody liked it, given the circumstances. Nonetheless, if they turned tail and ran it would look bad and further solidify the public's distrust of them. And if they didn't come out strong, it'd undermine anything they would try to say in front of an angry mob and possibly get them stoned. Or start another riot. Sela hadn't mentioned what would happen if they took the easy way out; she didn't need to. Unova held so well against crisis because of its hardline approach, if it crumbled like Sinnoh did under pressure, the results would be catastrophic. Especially so if very prominent Sinnohan leaders were present at that failing. Their reputation didn't need any more beatings.

Either way, the options were undeniably less than ideal.

Riven let out a long breath, and clapped his hands together. "Well, at least we'll die bravely together."

An operative in the corner nodded his head toward Viola. "Hey, we already got a photographer here for the inspiring picture too. But… it'd be hard to take it when you're not exactly breathing, huh…"

She recoiled, cradling her camera defensively, disgusted. "If that was you trying to be amusing, I hope you never try your hand at comedy. Operatives really do have rotten senses of humor."

The man quite nearly blushed.

"Plan" settled and with a quick wave of the fingers, the operatives and their psychics disappeared in flashes of light.

They ended up descending the stairs flanked by most of the foreign leaders' strongest pokemon, like a convoy of teeth, fur, claws, and pent up superpowered aggression. Viola's Scizor and Morty's Gengar stood to Riven's right and left, with a Buneary and a Blaziken leading them to deal with any fast moving threats that could advance on their position quickly. He'd never had a bodyguard detail that wasn't his own team before, so this was quite nice. He entertained the idea of laughing maniacally down at the crowd like an evil overlord as they flinched back.

Not that it would go over well. Already he could see uncertainty taint the air around the crowd and several people took hands off pokeballs. At least he hoped they were pokeballs.

Several reporters were desperately trying to make their way through the mob, finding very little success as it started toward the gym's steps. Angry shouts and demands rose up in moments, though few had the gall to actually start up the steps to confront the leaders and their pokemon yet. Nathan stopped descending ten feet above the ground in an effort not to keep his nausea from swaying him, scanning the crowd and the surrounding buildings while he wrestled it down. He had excellent eyesight in the dark, but he didn't have a flying type's eyes. If Gale were here, she could probably spot anyone hiding in those windows from the surrounding buildings fairly easily. They would easily be able to shoot them from this distance regardless, but at least he could direct the operatives in that case. As things were, he was a sitting Psyduck. He felt exposed, far too much for comfort, and sorely yearned to go and sleep for an entire day. Not that he let it show.

Put on the mask for a little longer. That bed can wait.

The group stopped walking, and Nathan crossed his arms, steeling his features.

"Is there a reason there's an angry mob outside my door this late at night?" He called out, voice carrying. Nothing but silence and stares. He tapped a foot. "What, nothing to say all of a sudden? I ask again, why aren't you in your homes? Why are you here, threatening my gym and the people I am harboring with a violent crowd? I saw what you all did at the landing pad. Don't be shy now."

"You and your people are bringing killers and destroying our cities!" A voice in the crowd spoke up, the first to gather their courage, or their rage. "You destroyed Castelia!"

"Sinnoh scum!"

"Get out of our country!"

"Elesa almost died because of you!"

More voices rose out of the crowd until the square before the gym bristled with angry comments and shouts.

Then the first person stupid and angry enough to escalate the situation moved, a red haze brighter than the rest flaring within the mass of shouting bodies. Nathan stepped forward. Cheri and Dana tensed, trying to stop him as they saw something small arcing toward them. They had no time to react before Nathan had nonchalantly smacked the projectile from the air with the back of his hand as if he'd been swatting a particularly annoying pest. The projectile had been a half-filled water bottle filled with pebbles. It shot forward into a section of the crowd, the thwack of it striking someone followed by a grunt of pain.

Shouts seized, the square growing silent. In a normal mob where someone had done something similar, the police would have descended and begun to corral the crowd with varying degrees of violence. Seeing the gym leader stand there, blue eyes hard and a single hand raised, gave them greater pause than they expected.

Nathan took a moment to straighten, shaking out his hand, then lazily tossed a pokeball into the air with his left. Baron materialized beside him, menacingly staring down the crowd. His crest scar had been a terrible wound, but there was no denying that it did to the Gallade what grisly facial scars tended to do to people; it made them quite intimidating.

"The next time someone throws something, Baron, teleport them into the desert," Nathan said with an air of fake warmth, making sure everyone in the crowd heard. "That way they'll learn to appreciate water bottles filled with water instead of rocks. And if by some chance it isn't a water bottle? Well, the sky above a city exploded, in case you may not have noticed. As such, I find myself significantly less lenient today. As do my fellow leaders here. So, good people of Nimbasa… let's try this again. Let the press through, please. They can relay your concerns instead of bellowing insults at us and expecting results. We can all have a civilized discussion, yes?"

The Gallade's bladed arms flicked outward and retracted slowly, the fighter appearing to inspect them for emphasis. Watching this, the crowd seemed to grow more subdued, allowing the reporters and their crews to push through the mass of bodies. A blonde woman managed her way through, clutching a microphone in her hand, panting.

"Miriam Hayes from UCN news!" She announced, straightening and turning incredulously back to the crowd, which had stopped advancing. She must've felt uncomfortable being front and center, ushering hurriedly to her crew. Her cameramen joined her shortly after, the little group coming to the base of the stairs to the gym. Soon she was joined by other reporters who'd gathered up their courage, a man with silver white hair despite being in his early thirties, and another shorter, dark skinned man from another abbreviated cable network Nathan didn't really care about.

His leaders descended further down the stairs and joined the press, with Sela giving the reporters one of the worst glares Nathan had ever seen on the woman. The rest of the mob leered at them with just as much disdain from the semi-circle of space they had given them, out of fear of their personal guard pokemon if nothing else.

"You," Riven said to the blonde woman with a finger. "You're first. The others come after. I assume you know who I am, as well as my party?"

"Y-yes!" The reporter stammered, clearing her throat. She half stumbled up to him and with Riven's sight, he could see unease coming from her. Not directed at him, but at the crowd. The effect of authority versus the wild chaos of a mob cowed only by the threat of strength. Civilization could be hundreds of years advanced and still centuries old habits continued to persist in people. A strange weariness overtook him as he thought about it, the years and eras blending together suddenly in a blur of images and memories. He felt ancient.

The red haze lingered.

A lash of vertigo hit him as the crowd's simmering anger seemed to invade his mind, pushing at his ability until he held it back with a bite of the tongue. The taste of copper in his mouth brought him back to reality, allowing him to realize that the reporter had been mid question.

"—Blaming the Unovan government, and the League for the destruction that transpired in Castelia today. It's common knowledge that you have somewhat a connection to the Unovan Field Operations and have been sighted with them far more often than the other leaders. Can you confirm if these rumors are true?"

Riven ignored the beginnings of a migraine and digested the question, scratching the side of his head. Some hecklers in the mob began protesting, urging him to answer as if the woman hadn't just finished asking him the bloody question. "Quiet!" He commanded irritably. "I'm getting to the question, hold your Rapidashes. And the answer is definitively no."

More protests. Dana inched forward, trying her best to be intimidating. Being a bunny made that sort of difficult, but he'd seen what a Buneary's kicks could do to a person. The Blaziken beside her, though, definitely cowed more people into compliance, however.

"And why is that?" Miriam prodded.

"Because if we had access to a legendary that could do what the pictures of Castelia say the city looks like, then we wouldn't be in the mess Unova is currently in, would we? I know everyone has seen the pictures, and before you ask, we have no clue what the shiny rocks left behind are either. At least at this time. There are speculations that they could be radioactive, but I'm no expert on that, and neither are the dignitaries. Ask the scientists about that. We're not geologists."

"But legendaries have been controlled before," the man with silver hair, an Andrew Copen, pointed out. Riven gave a sardonic snort. Controlled was a very generous way to put that. "Team Plasma did it before, what's not to say this isn't a similar case? After all, a large-scale use of amnesia was administered to the public following Elesa's attempted assassination, wasn't it? The government is not above using unethical practices to direct the sway of the masses. What's to say the authorities aren't covering something up yet again? More Sayre activity? An experiment gone wrong?"

A multitude of shouts and outcries of injustice arose, the leaders and their pokemon tensing. Riven's eyes narrowed at the man. "They're not covering something up because they're just as blindsided as the rest of us. That blast nearly knocked every airship around Castelia out of the sky, including my own. We nearly died, sir." He hissed the last words out, the tone more acidic than he would've liked. God he was tired. The edges around his vision began to redden as his irritation rose.

"Then why run?" The final reporter said smugly, as if he'd maneuvered them into his trap. "At the airship landing pad you refused to meet the crowd, coming here secretly instead. Why? Are there some other motives the public isn't allowed to know about? Why are you hiding from the truth?"

That set off an even louder wave of shouts.

Goddamn vipers.

Riven heard Sela growl beside him and he felt the pull of those emotions like a magnet. He held out a hand to stop her, rationalizing that escalating was something to be avoided despite wanting nothing more than to give in to baser desires and wipe that smugness off the man's face. But she hadn't moved, those were only her intentions. He grunted in exertion as a pressure seemed to squeeze his head, rising and growing increasingly painful the louder the crowd became.

Their anger was beginning to grate on his nerves and he struggled to constantly push it away as it needled at the edges of his mind. But it kept coming over and over, giving muted and mottled bits and pieces of their concerns. Concerns he could touch with tendrils of thought, linking through the Other flow like threads. Some were interlaced with anger, but underneath them ran a current of deep fear, fear of death certainly, and a few others. Good gods it felt like someone was picking at his brain with a hundred toothpicks that steadily progressed to serrated knives.

It was getting exceedingly harder to concentrate.

Riven motioned his head forward.

"That's why," he ground out, voice raspy. The reporters turned, facing the crowd. "Right now, I can see at least several armed people in there, probably itching at the chance to shoot us. Just so you know, there's several operatives watching right now, as well as my Gallade. Shooting me will be pointless, so put your toys away."

He pointed at the surrounding buildings, drawing the attention of the crowd. He saw the men in question that had been nervously clutching concealed weapons quickly take their hands off the grip. Riven smiled maliciously, all teeth and visibly struggling to prevent it from reaching his gums.

"Then there are the rest of you, who seem to think flinging rock filled water bottles that could easily give someone a concussion is a good idea. You mention the landing pad but neglect to recall that a small riot did break out there. The sky above a city cracked open and instead of searching for answers like sensible people, here you are, a merry congregation of pitchforks at the ready rising up in rage for a city you don't even live in with violence and insults being the first thing you direct at us. Men and women that, lest you forget, were nearly killed upon their very arrival in your beloved region. So when you ask why we ran, why the UFO do what they do to keep from inciting a general panic, I suggest you use the one thing science keeps telling me you have but is getting increasingly harder to believe."

He pointed a finger to his head. This time, it was Sela who'd begun to tug on his arm, whispering something he could barely make out amongst the white noise.

"What the hell are you doing?" She demanded sharply, but Riven's eyes were unfocused now as the crowd responded to his implication. His taunt.

Emotions built and flared again as shouts and protests rose in volume. The colors were blinding now—vivid bursts of red weaved between mottled shades of brown and blue. They mixed horribly and the corresponding cascade of emotions from such raw and open minds had his brain being pulled in dozens of directions. He could make it stop, with a tug of mental effort… Just one little—

Emotions followed by faint fragments of thoughts came flying into his mind like hundreds of bullets striking at once, bombarding him with information and emotions that weren't his own. He felt like he was drowning, growing desperate as the tide came again and again.

Words and impressions blended together over and over and the same feeling he had in the hotel with Gale and the others overcame him. He reached out with a mental thought, seizing on one feeling and pushed it forward, stronger. Light dimmed, and Riven hadn't noticed everyone's attention snap to him.

"Quiet."

It was barely a growled whisper. But the effect was immediate.

Riven was stunned as he saw what his ability did to the others, locking them in place as their bodies reacted instinctually to the wave of empowered and overwhelming fear. But the central focus of his hostility, the reporter in the crowd, broke like a twig under the pressure, visualizing something horrible in his mind, no doubt. He froze in utter terror.

A black, pulsing mass of dread was violently stirred in the entire crowd for a brief second. A massive, electrifying jolt to the brain that commanded it to feel utter fear. Brief, but that was enough to do some damage. He had tried to make it feather light, enough to derail the torrent of emotion that was drowning him. He really had. That his control went and flew out of his arms like a paper in the wind was disconcerting. A mild tug. Easy, right?

Of course, to untrained and unprepared minds and a very inexperienced handler, that little tug was more like a skin ripping yank. His mental concentration crumbled and what felt like a sudden wave of nausea hit him like a mallet to the head as his ability taxed his mental capacity to the limit. Too many minds, too many split avenues of concentration. And there had been so much fear, all he had to do was push it forward. Three or four people was no issue. More than a hundred? Good luck.

He swayed like a leaf, and then the feeling of danger dissipated like a far-off dream as his working failed from the strain and fell apart. The reporter stumbled backwards, heaving and pouring sweat. He scampered off in a rush, his earlier desires to ask questions overridden by sheer terror. Startled people in the crowd parted for him as he sprinted into the well-lit streets of Nimbasa, leaving behind his crew in his rush to get out.

The crowd began to disperse seconds later just after the man, the other two reporters tersely offering their thanks before they too seemed to decide this was enough story hunting for tonight. The camera crew moved like they couldn't pack up fast enough, hastily following after the reporters while cables and equipment dragged along behind them. His companions, on the other hand, were left stunned by the sudden shift in emotion. Riven had tried to lessen the effects on them, so the foreign influx of emotion leaving them so suddenly would stick out in their minds like a sore thumb by comparison.

Riven proceeded to unceremoniously fall down the stairs.

The pokemon, in contrast to the people, were barely affected. Cheri moved quickly to catch him, crying out as she caught him with her extended leg. Flashes of light appeared around them and operatives emerged, weapons drawn and pokemon at the ready. One of them glanced at Nathan and cursed. "What the hell happened? Did he get attacked? We didn't see anything!"

Morty came up to put a hand on Nathan's forehead, not noting any fever. His face was bereft of color, and he rubbed at his temples with his fingers. His mouth moved like he was trying to say something, but a groan of pain came instead. "I can't say I know for certain, but it's possible there may have been a psychic attack of some sorts." He looked towards Sela, who swallowed hard. "I hate to bring up painful memories, Sela, but hasn't this tactic been done before? Someone in the crowd, perhaps?"

"Not quite like this," the Sinnohan leader said, rubbing at an arm and watching the goosebumps with fascination. "Attacking our dreams is one thing. What happened just now is… I've never felt anything like that before. If it was a psychic or a ghost, or a Legendary, this is something new. Someone wanted that crowd to feel afraid, and used Nathan as a focal point to do it. A powerful psychic pokemon? If that's true, we didn't we feel it like they did?"

Psychics affected minds, true, but the amount of effort required to influence an entire crowd of people seemed excessive, bordering on the supernatural. Or Legendary, they supposed. And if there were legendaries present, they hadn't seen any. Ghosts were even more focused than psychics, affecting so many people would be impossible for them. Dreams were their forte, and nobody was asleep. Which begged the question… what did do this?

"Not sure, ma'am."

The operatives exchanged wary glances with each other, all turning to watch the fallen leader.

"You okay, sir?"

Nathan shakily moved to stand up while waving a dismissive hand, using Cheri as support until his legs could sustain his weight without buckling. "Sorry about that," he said quickly, nervously making eye contact with them all. Then groaned, his jarred ribs most likely. "I wasn't ready for whatever that was. Felt like a train hit me. Did you all…?"

They nodded.

"Ah, right. Uh… did something attack me? Shit, did I fall down the stairs?" Flannery's Blaziken animatedly mimed him falling down the steps with her claws. She pointed to herself and proudly declared herself his savior. "Hah. Good reflexes there, Cheri."

She gave him a beaked grin.

"W-what just happened?" Flannery asked, assisting her Blaziken in looking after Nathan. She shivered, the reaction not at all from the chill. "I felt… confused. One second I was scared, like I was staring down a wild pokemon ready to pounce, but not near me." She eyed Nathan carefully. "Then nothing. And it felt like I should've been afraid of you, Nathan, but that doesn't make sense. Morty, do angry mobs usually run off like that?"

"No," the Johtoan replied soberly, blinking rapidly. "No, they don't."

"Never mind the mob," Sela said, wide-eyed, "I've never seen a cutthroat pot-stirrer like that NCC guy run away from a hot story. Those guys would march into a warzone for a scoop. I'd admire their stubbornness if they weren't so slimy. I'm still—I don't know what to make of any of this. What the hell is wrong with this place? What Flannery said was right, you felt like danger, all at once. The kind you're afraid of in your dreams after a nightmare. What did you feel, before you fell?"

"Like someone strapped my brain to a train track," Nathan replied. "Wasn't pleasant."

Viola stared in silence.

"Whatever happened, we shouldn't discuss it here," Morty said, looking around the now eerily vacant square. "I suspect it's the doing of a ghost, but I'm not certain. I'm assuming that we'll hear all about it tomorrow on the news. I also recommend we get some sleep, before something else happens to waylay us. Hopefully that moon doesn't fall out of the sky at this point. It's shaping up to be that kind of night."

Everyone looked straight up to be entirely sure.

"I agree, sleep and a heater sound great right now. I really don't like what's happening in this region," Flannery muttered softly. "All this going on at the same time can't be a coincidence, right? All this freaky stuff, I mean, it almost feels like it's on purpose."

"I'd say it's more like several arsonists arguing over who started a gigantic fire first," Nathan mused.

"Again with the fire analogies. Flannery's the fire type trainer here, not you," Sela pointed out. He shrunk a little. "Ugh, they're going to think we pulled something. Mind control or some other idiocy they can concoct. How else are they going to explain away hundreds of people running like they'd seen a ghost at the same time? I wouldn't be surprised if they started blaming Nathan for it, considering he was the focal point of the attack. It makes him look suspiciously like the culprit."

"That's ridiculous!" Nathan objected at once. "I'm not a pokemon. I'd know. Wait! Maybe I'm developing psychic powers." He raised a hand and grunted with concentration as he tried his best to bring out some sort of telekinesis at a nearby signpost. The sign didn't even twitch. Then he tried it on a pebble. Sela stopped him as his face went from intense concentration to that of mild constipation. He stopped straining and frowned. "Well, that's disappointing."

Sela continued, rolling her eyes. "As if that'll stop hearsay and rumors. Those people were convinced the UFOs were somehow directing Legendary pokemon to assault cities. Or that the Sayres came back because of us. You really don't think they'd come up with something as absurd as that?"

Nathan squinted, thinking about it. "Okay. But the Sayres were being led here before you guys showed up anyway. Among other things. You Sinnohans are just easy to point fingers at," he said. "Mobs are pretty stupid by default, and I think this one was formed a little too quickly. The anger and fear was genuine, I'm sure, but it appears suspiciously like someone must've been directing it and stoking the flames."

He paused at Sela's raised eyebrow, flushed, and cleared his throat.

"Goading us would be easy, and I'm guessing that was reporter number three's job, only I don't think anyone expected whatever happened to the crowd earlier. The media will have a hard time trying to come up with excuses that hold any weight other than, 'the legendaries did it'. Though I'm sure the news group that slimeball belonged to is well known for wild stories and conspiracy theories. Unova's got more of that fearmongering than any other region. Especially towards foreigners. Hopefully it lets us off the hook."

"I quite doubt that," Viola said quietly. "And I also doubt we'll get anywhere talking about this in the cold. Flannery's chattering again and I'm starting to get a bit cold myself. Santalune doesn't get very chilly."

Motioning to the operatives, they took to the roofs again as Nathan led his group of leaders through obscure alleys and pathways through the city, never taking the main streets and away from prying eyes. A man had almost attempted a poorly thought-out mugging, figuring them to be run of the mill civilians making a bad call. Baron had sensed his thoughts, appeared behind him, and threw him into a dumpster before the others rounded the corner. No one was there.

Nathan had blamed it on the wind when questioned.

Viola nearly punched holes in the man's head with her glare when they asked why he was so adamant on skulking around. He had pointed to Viola's camera, nearly spitting out the words, "slimy paparazzi". Sela understood what Nathan was getting at, but he didn't have to put it quite like that. Viola was not pleased with the answer or the insinuation. She insisted that pokemon were far more interesting than people, and that she'd never lower herself to snooping around peoples' personal lives for money.

Sela had needed to intervene before Nathan could dig himself in further. "Elesa was a very public figure. She must've had never-ending intrusions to her privacy. I think our guide here appreciates a more quiet lifestyle. Which means skulking around in alleyways like a runaway thief. Am I right?"

"A dashing rogue, but… sure," Nathan corrected. "People don't like venturing into less than reputable places with expensive equipment and no pokemon to protect them. I didn't mean to offend you, Viola. I just used your camera to make a point, not you specifically. You take pictures of nature and… bugs. Totally different!"

Viola didn't look convinced. To be honest, she'd been eyeing him like she would a hostile Ariados all night. Nathan laughed it off and continued on, herding them through some very seedy areas. They drew some stares.

They twisted through more narrow alleys, until the street opened up and the neon and bustle of nighttime Nimbasa fell away to a beautifully maintained area of the city that practically shouted high class, with immaculately paved roads, nicer houses, and sprawling luxury condos. Joggers and regular people carelessly walked alongside their Lillipups and Purrloins, not a fear in the world. When Nathan finally led them to his building and the general presentation of the courtyard, the group visibly gasped.

"Leader salary doesn't pay this well," Viola said, blinking. She snapped a picture. "Does it?!"

Nathan solemnly stared at the building for a long minute, not aware that everyone was looking at him. At several points on the way here he had stopped to do just that, frozen in place with the same expression.

"Are you okay, Nathan?" Morty asked, stepping beside him.

He blinked rapidly, snapping out of his reverie with a stutter. "S-sorry? I was just—what did you ask?"

"Your salary as a leader. Is it good enough to afford all—" the Johtoan gestured to the building, "—all this?"

Riven regarded Morty for a moment, then the building, and laughed. "Not even close, but Elesa doesn't believe in half measures. She owns the condo and didn't want me to be living in her dressing room in the gym, so giving me a space wasn't particularly hard for her, or taxing on her finances. She's goddamn rich, but I'm guessing you knew that. Everyone knows that. Do they know that?"

"It's one thing to hear about, it's another to actually see it," Flannery said, grinning girlishly up at the building. "I still live in my gym."

"Most of us do," Sela reminded. "What are you missing, anyway? Your gym comes with built-in hot springs. It's one of Hoenn's best travel features. Apart from the beaches in Slateport." Flannery laughed sheepishly. "My gym just lets me freeze to death slower. None of the other leaders can afford things like this. At least none of the others I've spoken to. Where's yours?"

Nathan pointed near the top.

"Somewhere up there, even has an outside patio view of the city. I used to sit out there sometimes to help me think. It's more like a house, last I recall. With more rooms than I have people to fill them, and my team doesn't like sleeping on their own. They prefer crushing me in a pile."

The infamous blob sleeping arrangement—a classic trainer staple.

"You'll all have your own rooms, but I should warn you that any gigantic pokemon should remain in their balls or you might cave the floor in. Given how expensive this place is, I wouldn't advise doing that. Dealing with angry rich people is miserable. Dealing with their lawyers is worse." He seemed to think about that for a moment, as if the thought had surprised him. "Ugh… I forgot about lawyers. And the laws. So many laws. Simpler times then…"

He absently strode ahead, disregarding the other leaders and their puzzled looks as he mumbled to himself. His Gallade followed along, giving the rest of them a smile as he followed his trainer. When the group exited the elevator and nearly made it to Nathan's door, Baron froze, holding up a green fist to signal the others to stop. The psychic leaned over, whispering audibly to Nathan instead of telepathically.

"Now? Of all times?" Nathan said incredulously. Baron nodded sheepishly, and his trainer seemed to deflate, running a palm down his face. He turned slowly towards the other leaders, expression miserable. "I'm uh, going to need a moment. There's kind of someone in there already."

"An intruder?" Morty asked in alarm. He already had a minimized pokeball in his hands. The others followed suit quickly, but Nathan gestured for them to calm down.

"No, I mean… yes. But not like that. She's not trying to kill us, I think but—"

"She?" Viola pointed out, raising a thick eyebrow. He sighed. The man seemed to struggle internally with himself about something.

"It's my… ex-girlfriend. She has a habit of coming by without my permission. And eating all my yogurt, it's very aggravating."

"Her letting herself in when you're not home?"

"Oh no, eating my yogurt. It drives me insane."

They paused to stare at him.

"Is she dangerous?" Morty asked after Nathan and Baron inched closer to the door. Nathan paused, thinking. Far longer than he probably should have. Morty cocked his head. "So she is?"

"Only to the contents of my refrigerator," he said stiffly, motioning to Baron with a nod.

"Then why does it look like you're both trying to breach your own house? Your Gallade looks ready to spear someone through the neck," Sela pointed out, unconvinced. Nathan already had a thumbprint on the scanner.

"Insurance," he replied after a beat. He flashed a quick hand signal to the psychic. "Wait here, and if you hear things breaking, uh, don't come in here pokemon blazing, alright? Noise complaints are annoying. Give me about… five minutes? Ten? I promise nothing will explode. Maybe."

Not that they had much of a choice, they weren't getting through that door. With a cheery wave and a fake smile, the Unovan gym leader and his Gallade entered their own home like somebody on the other side was waiting to kill them.

Something was really off here.

"Oh, I saw some vending machines in the lobby, anybody want some snacks?" Flannery asked. "Meanwhile we wait, you know? This might take more than a few minutes. Lover's quarrels are tricky."

With a sigh of reluctance, the others agreed. If they were going to be suddenly killed, they might as well not be hungry.

---

Aliac, or Aveena, or whatever she went by, sat leisurely at the dining table in the living area, savoring a spoonful of yogurt without a care in the world. She was thankfully, blessedly, dressed, easing his fears that Sela would walk in here to see the woman in her underwear and cause a situation. Riven's relief was replaced with irritation. There were five other empty yogurt containers stacked alongside the one she was currently finishing. He'd been stuck in a world full of hostile pokemon, Origins, and impending doom, all without even so much as the comfort of decent tasting food. Sometimes, he remembered how fantastic yogurt tasted. Because the Nauer certainly didn't believe in sugar. Or yogurt. Their diets were largely medieval. It was almost a crime.

The stacked yogurt carcasses were all arranged a certain way to show off the front. On the front was a Bellossom holding a vanilla flower, mocking him with its adorable smile. Aveena finished the last cup and stacked it the same way atop the others. Another Bellossom smile taunted him. He wanted to burn it.

"What are you doing here?" Riven asked tiredly, circling around the side of the table. A decorative glass pitcher he never bothered to replace sat in the center of the table. He picked it up absently, then set it down. No color swirled above her, telling him nothing. Most Origins were fairly good at keeping their emotions in check, and steel types were among the best of them. "This is really not a good time for your antics."

"Is it now?" She replied with a giggle. Her hands clapped together. "Oh, that's right! You had friends coming over. I seem to have forgotten."

"No, you didn't. I do hope you didn't forget what I said the last time you intruded."

Amused metallic grey eyes settled on him, then Baron. They reminded him of Steven's, but his were still decidedly normal, while hers seemed to reflect light like polished metal. Any normal person would call them mesmerizing, but to him it was just another indication that she was as normal as he was in a world of Unpowered. Inari's practically glowed, so he lucked out having relatively normal looking irises.

Her smile didn't waiver. She backed away from the table, throwing away the empty yogurt containers into the trash bin after she noticed him eyeing them repeatedly. "Sorry. Care to remind me again? Or is it that you want to tussle on the floor with me again? This time we could do it with no clothes on. I'll go first."

She lifted a portion of her shirt, showing a full belt of pokeballs. Baron frowned, and retracted his blades. She pretended not to notice, slowly lifting her shirt up, exposing her navel until Riven held up a hand. She'd made her point. The crimson burst of lust was there, a wisp instead of an overpowering wave that marked strong emotions. Either she was controlling herself fairly well, or the woman was faking her interest to get a rise out of him. That it appeared at all was sort of flattering, actually.

She gave him a sly, sensual smile. His frown just deepened, shaking his head and exhaling slowly.

"What do you want?" He repeated pointedly.

"So serious," she pouted. No reaction. She sighed, then she straightened. "But you're right. No time for rolling around with each other on the ground again, as much as I'd love that. I'll be frank. Castelia. You ducked our tail."

Tail? He scratched his head and thought about that for a moment, raising a finger as he dug deep into the recesses of his mind and remembered someone following him that night. Ah, so she'd been there. Well, maybe not her. He doubted Charaph's little infiltrator would've been fooled by his tactics. She wasn't an idiot. Someone had been watching the hospital, and followed. But he'd lost them. A lackey, then. So that left Aveena and Tesla where? Anywhere, he guessed.

He vaguely remembered losing their little spy, but it didn't take a genius to figure out where he'd gone. Burning buildings were generally hard to miss. His annoyance spiked again.

"So that's what this is about." A long sigh escaped as he rubbed at his eyelids, then he started to stretch his back, a series of pops following. "To think I could have been asleep by now."

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Playing dumb won't help you, Mr. Ethne. Building suddenly goes up in flames and then not a day later a Legendary pokemon turns it into the world's biggest crystal coffin. It's a little—"

Riven held out a hand as a crystal shot from it. She flinched back to defend herself, gasping as the tiny shard zipped around her outstretched hands and landed anyway, settling into her sternum with a feather light tap. Riven took some small form of pleasure at seeing an expression on her face that wasn't a smirk, if just for a second.

"What is this?" She asked, thumbing it with a finger. Her skin gleamed and lost color, greying as it hardened. "An explosive?"

"That could get through your skin?" Riven scoffed. "No… that'd be too convenient. And even if it did work, getting guts splattered around this place would be hell to clean. It's a construct that acts—Ah, too complicated. It's basically a flash drive made of crystal, only you use your brain to open it. Will it open or touch it with your Origin power, it's not difficult. You want your answers? They're in there. No beating around the bush. Just take it and get out. I don't need Tesla's shit and I'm tired. I want to sleep. Don't trip on your way out."

He made a shooing motion with his hand.

She stared at him, stunned. Then her eyes glazed over as a silver line of power extended from her skin to it. The crystal seemed to brim with information at the slightest brush of her thoughts, full of images and recollections clearer than any recording. She came back with an awed gasp. Her earlier flirty demeanor was gone, replaced by awestruck shock. "I've never seen anything like this. Where did you—"

"Doesn't matter. I prepared in advance in case you or Tesla tried to pull something like this. Looks like I was right." He grunted, pointing. "Don't try to look at everything all at once, it'll put you out for a day and the headaches make the worst bender you've ever been on seem like a joke. Trust me, don't try it."

She regarded him the same way a cat would eye a suspiciously placed mouse. "Tesla was convinced you wouldn't give up your secrets so easily."

"An eye for an eye," Riven replied. "Now we're square. Gale's life for this information. This also ensures a swift end to our little conversation. Now buzz off."

She picked at it, pulling her shirt down further so Riven could see more of what she had to offer. His expression didn't change, much to her disappointment. "Well. If that's the case then things are going to be awkward for you. Sorry in advance. No matter, saves me time prying your secrets from your lips."

"With what, torture?"

She reared back as if slapped. "Does it look like I want to torture you? And after you got an amazing tan, no less? No, of course not. I get my information other ways."

His eyes narrowed, hung up on her previous statement. What did Tesla do? No doubt he had something unpleasant cooked up for him, and he was starting to expect it'd show up soon. He was not going to entertain Aveena any second longer than needed, however. "I bet you do. Like now, for instance. Got what you came for, didn't you? Just go. And don't talk to the leaders more than you have to."

"I don't think I have to listen to you, o gym leader. What if I told them what I was really here for?" Aveena suggested, holding a hand over her mouth in feigned shock.

"You won't. Because you're not stupid enough to drag them into this."

"Mmmm. I don't know about that." She said with a laugh, as Riven's expression darkened.

Her wicked grin returned as she walked past Riven and his Gallade, heading towards the door with a casual arrogance and a sway of the hips. That demeanor grated on him, irritation spiking into anger quicker than he would have liked. She just strode in here, acting like she owned the place. Like she was invincible because he couldn't do anything to her. Then he thought about the yogurt and his patience ran out.

Riven decided to do what he did best. Something stupid.

As she turned her back, he reached over and grabbed the glass pitcher on the table, hurling it at her with as much force as he could muster. It shot toward her like a glass rocket.

She spun on a heel, knocking it aside with enough force that it disintegrated into glass shards and pelted her face. The glass would do about as much good as a wad of wet paper getting flung against concrete, but he'd cut through an eye before. Fleshy body parts like the eyes couldn't be easily reinforced like skin and bone could, and a shard in the eye was a bit more of a concern than an eyelash. The opening she gave him as she closed her eyes against the rain of glass was enough.

His fist came bearing down on her, trailing faint wisps of white light. His knuckles cracked against her cheek, but she had moved in the direction of the strike, minimizing the damage it would have otherwise done. To her at least.

He followed up immediately with another punch from his left as she recovered quickly, meeting his punch with a block and moving with a speed and grace that betrayed what steel types were normally known for. She wasn't incredibly fast, but she didn't need to be. They exchanged several blows, striking and blocking one another's punches with martial skill as each strike against her flesh hit with a bang that reverberated throughout the room. She could afford to be more lax with her openings, because she knew he couldn't take advantage of them.

He didn't share that privilege.

Slipping past one of her punches, he seized her wrist and twisted her arm, attempting to pin her. He ended up behind her, smashing her face repeatedly into the countertop with strength that would've seriously dazed or incapacitated anyone else. She let out a short laugh at the effort instead. With surprising athleticism, Aveena broke the hold and maneuvered herself to face Riven, throwing two punches of her own. He blocked both of them, moving his arms to seize both of her wrists.

Aveena regarded the way he held both of her arms and eyed the countertop, not bothering to break his hold. She stepped in uncomfortably close, her breathing growing heady, her voice dropping to a sensual whisper. "Going to try the smash again? You know, if you bend me over, it helps when I'm facing away from you. Or is it rougher play you want?"

"The roughest," he snarled, as he pushed her away and planted a frontal kick into her stomach to create distance. She didn't bother to dodge. Against a normal woman that would have done staggering damage. It simply knocked Aveena back a few steps instead.

She brushed the imprint of his shoe off her clothes and let out an exasperated sigh, but there was a hint of alertness in her liquid metal eyes—an analytical edge that undercut the sultry tone she loved to use. She was watching Baron closely throughout the entire exchange. The Gallade wasn't moving. Hadn't moved the entire time. It was throwing her off. Riven gave her a slight, knowing grin.

"Oh, don't worry about him, love. Focus on me."

He lunged at her again to slip past a punch and seize one of her wrists. She gave him a chastising look for trying the same thing twice. She was about to sweep his legs when—

White light erupted around his fingers as he squeezed. And it had hurt. Panic burst into color around her as her metallic bones began to creak and she gasped, the feeling of pain through physical crushing force an alien one after so long. She reinforced her bones and skin instantly, the color of her skin dulling to a metallic, glossy gray.

Riven was pushing the limits of his muscles as he fought against her strength, veins and muscles bulging as he struggled from the strain. White light was fully visible now, arcing brightly around his arm to bolster his muscles as they pitted their strength against each other in a matched exchange. For the moment, anyway.

He grinned with a confidence he probably shouldn't have. Because she hadn't been using quick attack to augment her physical power yet. She returned his grin with a pained one of her own, a flare of white light dancing its way up Aveena's own arm. She prepared to tear her arm away and dislocate her opponent's shoulder, but Riven had already let go. The momentum, lack of resistance, and explosive power that steel-born muscles had granted her flung her nearer to the door than she must have anticipated, smashing her knuckles against and into a nearby wall. Her skin wasn't so much as scarred from the splinters of the wall as she ripped her fist out of the wall with a grunt.

The first signs of genuine irritation burst into a colored haze around her as white light flashed around her ankles. In one breath, her movements transformed. Her reinforced fist nearly took Riven's head off, the explosion of metallic power booming behind her and shredding the wall to splinters and plaster. She pivoted quick as a Liepard thanks to the quick attack, spinning around in a savage kick that probably would break Riven's neck if it connected, and his arms and shoulder if he tried to block.

Riven could see that the woman was counting on him to dodge. Most sensible opponents would. Anything but meet that kick head on. So, he surprised her again. A layer of black, geometric lines repeating in patterns appeared and solidified all along his arms and hands—so tightly grouped that it resembled a web. A web that weaved and thickened into armor, like a bodysuit that had formed along his skin.

Her heel smashed into his folded arms like a blow from a Tyranitar, the force of it sending Riven to his knees as he let out a pained grunt of exertion. The armor cracked and vanished just as quickly as it had formed, but Riven was already moving to strike back. She wasn't used to people matching her like that without serious injury, because in her shock, he hooked his arms around her leg and pulled it forward to settle her off balance. No matter how strong her skin was, a bipedal creature shared the same weaknesses. Balance was key.

With Aveena off balance and scrambling, Riven's stepped forward and sent his right fist upward in a vicious uppercut, trailing black and blue energy as it smashed into her liver with the force of a Machamp's punch. A detonation of darkness shook the room and Aveena skidded to a halt next to the door, bent over and hacking as she tried to get her breathing back into form. The pain had bowled her over, preventing her from standing immediately as saliva trailed out of her mouth.

Silver grey eyes locked onto his, perplexed. This time Aveena didn't dare turn her back to him, inching towards the exit as she regained her composure, groaning in pain. Riven wished he could take a picture of the shock on her face to save for later. He couldn't use Ki, or that would have caused some serious damage to her. It had been a single, solid hit though. Enough to compare it to the normal reaction to a liver shot, and even that was lessened, because she hadn't been forced to the ground. That didn't take away from the satisfaction he felt at doing it.

"W-were… y-you holding… out on me last time?" She questioned, grunting as she stood up, one hand on her stomach. She carefully noted the effects of quick attack fading from his arms. Riven stood there, eyeing her with his fists clenched; fists that were intensely bruised, reddened, and bleeding from the exchanges of blows. One knuckle on his right fist was rapidly turning an ugly purple, the skin over it rent and scraped raw. Riven remained silent, watching her.

Teeth gritted together, Aveena forced herself to her feet. Lines like liquid silver began to trace up along her forearms, forming circuit like patterns on her skin just as her eyes began to glow.

Riven let his fists drop, wringing out his hands. The hardened edge to his glare evaporated, replaced by a casual, almost friendly glint. Aveena's power receded a moment later, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I concede. No need to break the entire place apart."

"You attacked me," Aveena said, a dangerous edge in her voice. Her stance hadn't dropped and she sounded nothing like her usual self. "Quite rude of you to do it with my back turned. And a liver punch. On a lady?"

"I'm not going to underestimate you, Aveena. I'm not an idiot. If you don't give up now, Baron will stop you from reaching those pokeballs, and Aine will kill you."

"You'd risk setting fire to this entire building too?"

He didn't even blink, meeting her eyes. "I've already torched one building. What's one more? I have a psychic out. You don't. How well would your skin hold up against a wall of fire?"

She chuckled, coughing slightly. "Playing dirty, Cerul."

"Consider yourself lucky I can't beat you in a straight forward fight. So, I have to even the playing field. It's only fair." He showed her his right hand, which trembled slightly as blood ran down his arm.

"Oh? Dark types care about fairness? When did this happen?"

Riven grinned dangerously.

"Not a stereotype if it's true, right?" With a flair of his hand and a bow, he gestured toward the door. "But don't worry, I'll save the rest of my dastardly dark tricks for another day. I'm done, and so are my hands. We've done enough damage for tonight. Any more and it'd be hard to explain. Blood is also a bitch to clean. We can keep this as a little discussion between supposed former lovers, for the people outside. Just a tiny bit of violence between friends, no big deal."

Aveena's gaze flicked to the shattered remains of the pitcher, the splintered portion of the wall, and the hole her fist had made in the wall. She made herself breathe and nodded, relaxing. That sultry, relaxed air she seemed to prefer had disappeared entirely. Aveena, no—Aliac was here now. The mercenary, not the flirty woman she pretended to be with her marks.

Riven tensed, resolving not to let it show. Use her tactics against her, keep her off balance.

"An ex-girlfriend already, huh. We didn't get to the fun parts of the relationship, Cerul. That's a bit disappointing, isn't it?"

"I'm sure it—"

In a flash of silver, a blade of metal solidified in an instant from beneath the skin of her right arm, extending towards Riven's face like a striking viper. The rushing wind from its movement blew past him as the pointed blade stopped an inch from his right eye. Psychic power held the blade locked as Baron moved from behind him, glaring at the woman. Its liquid metal edge shimmered and flowed like ripples in a lake. Aveena struggled against the psychic hold, trembling in exertion. Baron reached up and tapped the metal with a finger. A line of blood leaked out of the wound from just that momentary touch. Her skin had also lost its metallic luster, returning to a normal, human tone.

Riven remained motionless, his breathing slow. She hadn't manifested the metal out of thin air, she'd pulled the metal out of her own body. Instantly. As she shuddered, the point of the blade wobbled dangerously back and forth.

Baron settled a green blade beneath the immobilized woman's chin and Riven could feel the ki resonating around the Gallade. It condensed around his vocal cords and in an echoing voice, Baron commanded her to—

"Leave."

The vibrations of his voice, amplified by the ki, weren't enough of an attack to damage those that had a weakness to fighting types, like Riven and Aveena both. It did make it an uncomfortable experience to be nearby, however. Their skin itched like ants running along their arms and their ears stung. The fighting type energy had an averse affect on Aveena's technique, dulling the edge and causing the blade to lose cohesion.

It dissolved into liquid metal chunks, receding smoothly back into Aveena's skin as it seemed to absorb through her pores like a sponge taking up water. Her skin quickly dulled again. If she was bringing the metal out of her body, did that mean her skin lost the density it had before? Trading defense for offense? A double-edged technique…

Aveena judged Riven for a reaction, he had made a point not to flinch so it could appear like he'd been in control the entire time. Which was the opposite of the truth, because that one move alone scared him down to his bones. He'd never seen that before, even from the metal Origins in the past. And the sharpness… He forced himself not to sweat. That could probably cut a man in half with a casual flick.

The woman stepped back. She thumbed the crystal embedded into her chest lightly, pausing to stare back at Riven, her glowing silver eyes locked on his as she edged toward the door. He raised an eyebrow as she smiled slightly. "Tesla would get angry if I killed you. Seems I misjudged you before. Tesla said Alteans were said to be crafty. Figured you'd appreciate a good trick, it's one of my best. An eye for an eye indeed. Good tussle, but the offer for something more fun than killing each other for sport is on the table. I've always been serious about that."

"I'm flattered. Maybe some other time."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Don't."

She walked to the door and left, her gait straight and with purpose.

Riven waved casually as she left, still bleeding. The undercurrent of fear and uncertainty above her head in that moment was the best thing he had seen all night. She had tried to hide it behind that self-assured image of a woman with all her faculties, but she had no idea about his ability to see the emotions of others. The pain from that liver shot probably made her drop some of those mental defenses too.

Of course, as soon as the woman was gone, Riven's smile disintegrated as adrenaline faded and his hands and muscles cried out from the abuse he'd just put them through, not to mention the frightening speed at which Aveena's liquid blade had nearly pierced his skull. Riven released a shaky breath, nausea threatening to make him hurl.

Baron watched the door, his arms crossed. He radiated tension.

"She held back. I wouldn't have been able to stop her in time. Not before she made a hole in your head. If she wanted you dead, you'd be a corpse right now."

"I know," Riven said grimly. "I didn't think you wouldn't be fast enough. Not after six years and a war."

"Neither did I. These people are dangerous. Even more so than the Nauer Origins. They're a bit more clever with their powers. Don't let your guard down, trainer."

"Yeah, I kind of got that." Riven massaged his hands. They shook and trembled like he'd taken a bat and smashed a metal anvil with it a thousand times. The torn skin and bruises would heal handily if he awakened, but he couldn't risk exposing his group to his ability, and part of him didn't want to with Aveena still close by and the events of the night so far. But he couldn't just leave his hands as is, they would ask too many questions, like why a trainer was bruised up and bloodied in a supposed pokemon battle while his Gallade was untouched.

Maybe he should blame Baron instead. That was a sound idea.

"Ah, right." Baron strode up to him, gingerly examining his trainer's abused limbs. He pressed down on the ring finger and Riven hissed. A fracture then. "This rebuilt body of yours won't last long if you continue to treat it like this. Believe it or not, punching tough things isn't as easy as I make it look, is it? With my excellence and superb speed and grace—"

Riven cut him off before his head swelled. "I armored up too. She just… she hits really hard. You can't even tell her skin is just that hard. Not until you feel it yourself. Must have a strong bloodline. I didn't find out much about the Steel clan, so I assume she must've been important. A noble, maybe even the clan Patriarch's daughter."

"Is her bloodline as strong as yours?"

"Maybe stronger. I never got to find out much about my own history." The wounds stung harder as Baron examined his hands closely. The Gallade nodded, then pressed again. "Argh… Doesn't help she's that fast and durable. Good gods, how do you do this regularly? Can you—"

"Already on it, stop complaining," the Gallade chided, charging up a heal pulse. "Do you have to do this all the time? Put yourself in danger for effect? I could do it instead! Or Aine. Her speed doesn't compare to most pokemon. We could've won easily."

"Except for that blade of hers."

"I'll expect it next time."

"I'm sure you will, but this isn't about that. If you interfered, she would have brought out the rest of her team and leveled this place. She understood."

"And?" Baron tried to flick him in the head, missing as Riven dodged, a flat expression on his face as if to say 'really'. Then he flicked one of Riven's knuckles and he howled. "Okay, maybe you have a point right now, but I'm serious too. No honor duels. That was stupid then, and it is stupid now. Just because you can fight like us now doesn't mean you should. This whole human pokemon stupidity doesn't mean a thing. Next time, I'm going to crush her. Metal doesn't hold me back."

"I appreciate you trying to protect me but—" Riven couldn't help but glance at the scar that ran down Baron's crest. The Gallade noticed and frowned, but said nothing. Riven looked away, focusing on the battered limb. He nodded after a moment. "Wasn't an honor duel, and I have a feeling she won't be dropping by unannounced anymore. That girl is too used to getting what she wants. I could've used night slash instead and split her open. But then cleaning up blood would be an issue… And Tesla seems to be close with her. She hasn't been outright hostile, either, there's no real reason to seriously hurt her. I had to punch her, even if it sucked for me. Hitting hard doesn't mean much if you're not as durable as the thing you're hitting, does it? Luckily, I have my healer on hand. I mean, he's no Audino…"

He grinned as his Gallade shot him a sideways glance.

"I can stop, you know."

"I was kidding. Thanks, Baron." He clapped the Gallade on the shoulder.

"Dark types are all made of glass," Baron muttered, swaying with the hit. Pink light intensified in rhythm to Baron's focus, commanding with his mind for skin to knit back together and bones to mend. Riven's flesh kicked at the energy like a particularly annoying pest. The Gallade had to force it through, breaking the influence with a layer of ki to break down the darkness and allow the psychic power to be even slightly effective. Riven restlessly squirmed in discomfort as the ki invaded his body.

Riven hissed as healing waves eased the pain to a dull ache, and he once again wished his typing would stop screwing him over. Once the inflammation disappeared and Baron judged that his trainer wouldn't have to worry about having swollen clubs for hands, he cut the flow of energy off, calming his labored breathing. "Did you enjoy your manicure, princess?"

Riven flexed his fingers, grinning. The fractured finger was tender, but no longer injured. With some more power, he could heal it within a few days just fine.

"Missing the nail polish, but yeah. Only problem is... we need to come up with a story. This doesn't look too bad, does it?"

The two stared at the destruction, and Baron scratched his cheek, a very human mannerism he'd adopted.

"Could've been worse. But before you get any ideas in that lazy brain of yours, I already healed you. You want to fight your own battles? Fine. But you get to clean up your own mess. Just because I can do it with a flick of my fingers doesn't mean Mr. Trainer gets to be lazy. Especially when he disregards my advice."

"Oh, come on, please?"

"No."

Riven sighed, sauntering off to go look for a broom.

---

When Aliac shut the door behind her, she had to take a moment to gather herself, the pain in her liver still pounding. Sweat had beaded on her skin, and she swore that Riven had felt like an entirely different entity than he had previously. He'd felt weak before, like a child who barely knew what to do with his power. But now?

Now it was as if she had turned her back for an instant, only to find that the child had been replaced by a grown man. That explosion of dark power had met her skin and passed through like the blow from a war hammer. She'd been hit hard before, and it was never pleasant. That it came from Riven had been astonishing. Especially with what she knew of the Remnants and Alteans at the end of their era. They were essentially powerless.

Even if Riven had been training, natural Origins didn't grow that quickly. Ever. Or maybe Origins could. Maybe they had it wrong… Maybe synthetic Origins grew so fast because they spent most of their lives powerless, just like Riven had. That didn't sound right at all.

Or was it instruction? Talent? Bloodline? It was a possibility that wasn't out of the realm of reason, considering the relatively small number of synthetics the Director had produced or found. Tesla hadn't been able to find out much about Gale Serna's progression what with the UFOs being so secretive, and nobody who knew anything told mercs working on their own anything. Riven himself was outright hostile, and would do his best to conceal anything about the girl from her or Tesla. She'd have to confront her herself.

Aliac looked down to the gem fused into her skin and shivered. Her bones had creaked and she'd used a killing move on him before catching herself. Stupid stupid girl!

He wasn't even a fighter. Dark types couldn't use ki, they were completely opposed to that energy. Yes, her skin had no more resistance against a dark type attack than a fire type did, but her skin was more than durable enough to withstand any physical force outside of a titanic hit. And he'd punched her with strength comparable to a fighter. The darkness had amplified the initial hit to cause worrying damage, especially to a vital organ. What did dark Origins specialize in? Physical attacks, or special?

If he was a special, quick attack shouldn't have boosted his muscles enough to come close to doing that. He hadn't even awakened yet, either. Which meant a physical striker then, like her. Only one that didn't care about how much harm he put his body in to cause the opponent damage. Riven certainly lived up to his typing.

She shook her head, chiding herself. There was too much about dark Origins she didn't know either. Alteans had been too rare, even when she'd been nothing more than a bratty teenager in the old world. And many had renounced their abilities, living like cripples and aging like the powerless men and women of this age. A true waste of potential. Riven Cerul had fought in the Remnant army, practically a cripple himself against whatever force the Roses and Lirans decided to throw at them. Despite his extensive martial experience, his actual Origin abilities were roughshod and poor. She felt that from her first meeting with him. Stronger opponents just felt oppressive in the same way a powerful pokemon did.

So then why was he different now?

The strongest dark type pokemon were strong physical attackers, but not very durable. And yet he had struck blow for blow with her and still his bones hadn't been ground to dust. His hands were bleeding rather badly but that was minor to both pokemon and Origins. She knew that dark Origins healed quicker than others, especially those that awakened. That was one thing she knew for certain from the stories told back home, back when the Alteans still used their powers.

Origins and pokemon, aside from their typings, had very different power sets. Maybe his durability and strength were common, or maybe they were an exception? No one in half a million years had a frame of reference to quantify a dark Origin's power, or any Origin whose typing had been eradicated—like the grass based Noltans of old. Reklan had reduced them all to ashes too. She bit her lip nervously.

We need more information. Far more information.

Tesla's obsession with the man, and the army that had raised him had started to make sense. Well, apart from falling in love with one of the female officers that had fought him, nearly cleaved his head off, and saved him because he'd been a, "pretty boy". Tesla was strange.

"You must be Nathan's ex-girlfriend?"

The sudden voice drew Aliac out of her thoughts. A tall, red-headed woman with a stern glare walked up to her, arms crossed. Beside her was a shorter blonde girl with thick eyebrows and green eyes. Both instantly familiar. Sela Schaffer of Snowpoint City, and Viola of Santalune City. Two steps behind them, Morty of Ecruteak and Flannery of Lavaridge stared at her with nothing less than dumbstruck shock.

Aliac, still rattled, nodded and gave them all a nervous smile. She brightened at the sight of the Lavaridge leader. "Oh, my. Flannery and Viola in one group, along with Sela and Morty? That may explain his mood. I'm sure keeping the fans off you was hard enough!"

"Yes, but for different reasons entirely," Sela grumbled. Her expression darkened as she noticed something. "Did he hurt you?"

The question struck Aliac as odd. She endured her body's inclination to bend over from the pain still throbbing near her stomach. "No, why would—"

"Because you're bleeding, and we heard several loud bangs in there. We came back over to investigate. Was there some kind of fight in there? Did he hurt you?" Morty had said, pointing to the wrist that Riven had nearly crushed with quick attack enforced strength. Droplets of blood trickled down her arm from what looked like a series of wounds around the circumference of her wrist. Droplets of her blood had already begun to stain the tile. Her blood. She had bled.

Were those… claw marks? No, they were punctures. The sight of her skin being opened, let alone pierced was so jarring that Aliac could only stutter in confusion.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she managed unsteadily with a small smile. "No, he didn't strike me. My Purrloin clawed me. She gets antsy sometimes. Especially when R—Nathan and I get into an argument. Our relationship is kind of… rocky." The woman lifted her shirt to reveal a belt full of miniaturized pokeballs. "We met out on the routes. I didn't expect him to become a gym leader of all things. It caused some problems between us and he was off in Castelia so…"

Sela visibly relaxed. "Trainer couple. I've seen it fall apart too much to suggest it. Usually ends up with battles tearing apart hotel rooms. You two must've left a mess in there."

Aliac nodded, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Yes, we did. Our relationship… was magical at first but, well, he's better than I am. I didn't take it well. Trainer pride, I guess. His Gallade is such a gentleman, when he's not trying to pulverize my pokemon. But arguments happen and he moved on. I'm still having a little trouble with it myself. I just—I just got angry and then—" She wiped the blood away with the hem of her shirt, and gave them all another beautiful smile. "I-I really shouldn't have come here. I need to go. I'd ask for an autograph from all of you, but I'm afraid he'll try to challenge me if I stay here any longer. Oh, and Flannery?"

The woman perked up.

"The rumors are true! You have absolutely flawless skin, I'm so jealous! I need to visit those springs myself some day. And Viola, I just love your eyebrows! It was nice to meet all of you, actually, but I really have to get going."

She shook all of their hands excitedly. Then with a wave and a beaming smile, the stunning stranger left the group of leaders standing outside Nathan's door in a very confused clump.

Morty blinked several times, trying to make sense of the woman he'd just seen and the oddball of a gym leader being together. It couldn't be any more of a difference.

"Do Purrloins have claws like a Sableye, because that's what they looked like. And there were wooden splinters all over her sleeves. Anyone else get the feeling that something's not right here?"

"Singular or plural?" Viola asked. Morty grimaced.

Flannery blinked, holding a potato chip in her hands. "She said she was jealous of me? That woman had curves I could only dream of! That's Nathan's ex-girlfriend? She can turn heads walking down the street!"

"Do I need to pull out a mirror for you, Flannery? Men track you when you walk down the street, don't sell yourself short," Sela pointed out. She eyed the door suspiciously. "We should go inside. Hopefully their fight didn't tear the place down and Nathan's not face down somewhere in a pile of rubble."

---

When Baron opened the door, they found Nathan not in a pile of rubble but in the impressively spacious living area, sweeping up glass fragments into a dustpan. Nothing seemed to be relatively out of—

There was a fist sized hole in the wall and below it, the wall was splintered into a ruined mess of material and debris. Which everyone stared at for a second. Nathan shamelessly pointed at his Gallade. Baron gave his trainer a very dirty look, mouth agape.

"I'll have to get that fixed."

"Do incredibly attractive women often get into pokemon battles with you in the living room?" Viola asked abruptly. "Or is that just tonight?"

"Met Aveena, did you?" Nathan continued sweeping more shards into the dustpan with a grunt, ignoring Baron's glare for getting blamed. "I get into fights with pretty girls when they throw glass pitchers at me when my back is turned. Otherwise, we try to make each other's lives hell much more civilly."

"Fighting outside instead?" Flannery laughed. "Trainers want to settle everything with battles. Couldn't wait?"

Nathan tried his best not to answer that.

"You shouldn't let her into your home then," Sela advised. He stopped for a moment, then started sweeping again. Slowly.

"Oh, trust me, I didn't. She broke in."

Morty distinctly remembered what floor they were on. "Balcony?"

"Definitely not. Baron breaks any psy-locks he finds, so no to that also. She got in through the front door, probably. Or maybe she walks through walls and she's a specter of vengeance that crawled out of hell to torment me for something I did in my past life as a rabid and fearsome Dunsparce."

Viola turned toward the door, inspected it, and failed to hide the doubt in her voice. "That's an electronic, biometric lock. You'd have better chances breaking into a prison."

"I don't think a Charizard blasting that thing would melt through it, either," Flannery put in. "Not quickly, or without setting the entire building on fire first."

"I had that installed after she broke in the first time. Figured it'd slow her down at least. I was wrong." Nathan just kept sweeping. "You know, it's almost like she twists her hands and the metal just does what she wants. She does the same thing to men, too. For obvious reasons." He paused, thinking as he leaned on the broom. "Maybe if I had a goddamn magic door? Like those forcefields they're installing in the arenas so pokemon don't blow the audience to smithereens. Wouldn't that be great… Ah, but I forgot. Besides the mess of a wall over there, welcome to my, uh, Elesa's home? I think it's mine."

He thrust his hands out, broom and dustpan still in hand. A shower of glass fragments flew across the room and bounced off the far wall. Nathan's smile dropped, his welcoming speech all but dead. "Shit. Uh, Baron, can you, uh—" Glass shards slowly picked themselves off the ground in a ball and floated over to the trash bin. The ball deliberately missed the bin, landing in a heap beside it. The Gallade pointed as Nathan frowned.

A smirk on his face, Baron waved a hand to lead the group of confused gym leaders to their rooms while Nathan was left to go pick up his mess. The tour was brief, and as expected, the penthouse was beautiful and elegant in its design and layout. Almost as if Nathan hadn't touched it since he moved in.

Because he hadn't. The more they saw of the place, the more apparent it was. Nathan hadn't bothered to redecorate anything, most rooms were tastefully arranged the way a realtor would present a house to be sold—clean in appearance but with no signs of having been lived in. Perfectly presentable. Beds were neatly done and the bathrooms were clean and absent of toiletries. The only place that had any signs of life was Nathan's room and anything adjacent to it, which was filled with half open books, stray papers, and grooming supplies for pokemon with thick coats of fur. A ready to go travel pack sat in the corner, along with several other provisions of canned food and rations. Not much decoration apart from that, though.

"Everything feels… empty," Flannery said, picking up a book. A book about Kalosian anthropological studies? She spotted a physics textbook in the corner and her eyebrows furrowed again. "It's like he hardly lives here."

"Strange choice of literature," Morty noted, skimming through a book about Johtoan legends and mythology. There were others as well, from Kalos to Sinnoh and more. Most of Nathan's books were historical, with composition books of notes written alongside them. Unusually beautiful penmanship too. Was this Nathan's writing? The script did not match the man at all.

"It's also shockingly clean. For a man," Sela added. "Most male trainers are slobs. I'm surprised this place hasn't been turned into a disgusting pig-sty with clothes thrown everywhere."

There wasn't a single article of clothing on the floor. Except for the desk covered in notes and books, tidy was an apt word.

"Most trainers are also kids," Nathan put in, his face suddenly half looking in from part of the doorway. "And live like goblins. You know those things in the fantasy books? Short smelly things? I know most of us only own like two or three pairs of clothes but come on, some of those kids smell foul. Trust me, if this place looked like a cesspool, Burgh would tell Elesa and she'd skin me. I am still used to being a nomad, though, and I'm allergic to anything artistic, as you can see by the look of utter disgust in Viola's eyes. You can stop judging me silently, thanks."

The blonde Kalosian leader stopped grimacing at the walls. She hadn't bothered to take any pictures. "I was not… judging."

"Yes, you were," he reiterated. She frowned. "Having a house is kind of a new thing for me. Usually, I get by as a roving, aimless vagrant, but now I have to be a respectable member of society and thus feel like a shaved Skitty. I guess I'll put up pictures some day."

"You get used to it," Morty assured before Sela could fit in a less than kind remark. "It can be quite a change—being tied down somewhere, I mean, after the freedom of training for so long."

"Yeah… it looks just like I remember it, too," Nathan said wistfully, walking into the room. He ran a finger along the wall and inspected it. "The walls aren't even dusty. It's been years! Actually, of course they wouldn't be dusty, it's been a few days, silly me. I get so confused."

They stared at him again. Nathan, undaunted, completely abandoned the idea of elaborating and briskly turned on his heel and strode out of the room, still wearing a smile. He stopped outside the door and outstretched his arms to point in the direction of the living room. "Well, it's been a seriously long day, Baron showed you your rooms, we all need rest for the inevitable storm of garbage the media will hurl at us tomorrow, I'm tired and out of yogurt thanks to an insane ex-girlfriend, and I feel like eating my sorrows is warranted soon. So, if it's alright with you, I'd like to turn in for the night. Heater control is in the hallway between the kitchen and the living area, it gets cold sometimes. Good night."

They were then quickly shuffled out by his Gallade, Nathan waved, and the door clicked shut shortly after.

Again, the dignitaries were left in an awkward clump outside a door, unsure of what to make of the situation. There was quite a bit of shuffling and hushed conversation coming from inside, alongside heavy metallic clangs and the sounds of pokemon being released. Then strange whooshing and clanging sounds and more hushed bickering. What was he doing in there?

They made a collective decision to leave the weird man to his own devices.

Viola shook her head as the group walked into the main living space, cursing French obscenities in a manner that instantly gave the others pause. First gym leaders were usually the nicest people a person could ever meet, or at least the most patient. And despite Nathan's… oddities, he hadn't done much to deserve the vitriol.

"Well, it was kind of rude," Flannery said.

Viola waved her hands. "Oh no, it wasn't that."

"Something about our team leader bothering you that much?" Sela inquired. "Because just about everything he does rubs me the wrong way in some form. I can't quite explain it."

"Like in anger?" Morty asked carefully. "Or…"

"Like an itch that I can't seem to shrug off." She let herself fall onto a nearby couch, letting out a tiny sigh of relief as the material settled around her body. Plush couches too, nice. "I'm just saying it's unsettling. The clean place, the lack of decorations, Nathan himself, the League and the Unovan Field Operations. All of it rubs me wrong. And it's winter, so it reminds me of Snowpoint with how miserable it is three fourths of the year."

"Or maybe you just hate Unova?" Flannery suggested. "You've been a little vocal about that."

"Also a fair point."

That was starting to become a shared sentiment. Their time here had, so far, been the complete opposite of pleasant, and they very much doubted it was going to get better. The sky had already split apart, after all. What was next, the moon crashing into the earth? There was probably an undiscovered legendary pokemon that could do that, just sitting up there. Probably. Thank their lucky stars some idiot hadn't gone off to poke it yet. There would be someone, no doubt.

Fatigue from the day's events set in quickly, and the others separated to rest in the various guest rooms. Viola remained where she was, eyeing the direction of Nathan's room with barely concealed disdain. Warmth began to come from the vents in the walls before Viola had realized she spent more than twenty minutes in thought about how she was going to approach the man about what had happened to her in the hotel.

Viola tried to focus harder despite the mess of thoughts and lethargy that frazzled her mind. Her thoughts were beginning to unjam when she was suddenly prodded awake the next morning, still on the couch. She'd passed out sitting up? That was embarrassing. Even more so when Nathan stood over her with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. In his other hand was a pencil, the rubber eraser point first. He prodded her arm with it again.

"Sleeping on the couch? That's going to mess up your neck."

Viola moved her head in circles, groaning at the ache. "Already did."

"Mmm, coffee? The others said you'd probably want some. I don't drink the stuff, but most people do."

He offered the mug, which she accepted warily. Before she took a sip, the man had turned on a heel and strode away. She paused as she tasted it. It was loaded with creamer and sugar. Less coffee and more a frappuccino at this point. She drank it anyway.

When she cleaned herself up and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen, she found the other leaders sitting around the living room table looking at a news report. Nathan was leaning against the counter, his face twisted like he'd bit into a lemon.

Sure as the sun rising in the morning, Unova's most radical newsgroup had jumped all over the story of the previous night's mob… and whatever had transpired that made said mob run away like a kicked Furfrou. The reporter that had scurried off like he'd seen a demon come to life was shown, still dressed in the same clothes as the night before, now streaked with sweat. He was an incoherent, babbling mess that cried out whenever someone tried to touch him.

The news anchor then mentioned the impromptu gathering the leaders had staged, as well as Nathan's brief speech. Freezing the recording the second before the crowd seemed to break, the man pointed to the screen.

"As you can see, the moment before panic sets into the crowd near the Nimbasa City gym, the camera's picture begins to fray, and what just seems like a brightness issue in the footage isn't that at all. Multiple eyewitnesses report the same incident, the area actually darkened visibly despite the light coming from the city. The general consensus among those affected was a powerful psychic attack focused on the recently appointed gym leader, Nathan Ethne, who had returned from a harrowing experience in Castelia City just hours prior."

A video of Nathan falling down the stairs was shown.

"Although unlikely, some believe that the Unovan government is responsible after damning claims of mass amnesia administered on the general populace by a now deceased member of the reformed Plasmas, Sabine Fullon. Her death had followed several days after her claims, leaving them largely unverified. Could this be another attack by the murderous cult of Sayre, or something unrelated? Details are soon to follow after the events of Castelia City. Make no mistake, the eyes of the world are on Unova. Back to you, Jim."

Morty looked back at Nathan. "Well, they see us more as victims. That's a plus."

"I don't fall very gracefully," Nathan replied sourly. The video had stopped on a still image of his face as he was falling. It was not flattering. "Did they really have to use that still shot? Bastards."

Viola suppressed a snicker.

"Anyway, for now they don't. Our story is small fry compared to whatever's going on in Castelia. That's the more pressing story until the national news channels decide to pay attention to local happenings again. Sharpedo don't bother with smaller prey when a fresh Wailord carcass is sitting there for the taking. And these people are sharks."

"We weren't the only ones being held up by crowds demanding answers," Flannery said, scrolling through articles and reports on her phone. "Winona told me they had to fight some people off in Aspertia. Cheren wasn't having any of it. Some of those angry people sustained serious injuries. People are blaming the Sayres for that, but that doesn't seem consistent with what they do. I think people are just blaming the first thing that comes to mind. The Sayres are just the boogeymen—uhm, boogey children?"

"Might be, might not. Panic clouds judgment," Sela murmured darkly.

Nathan nodded.

"City's going to be emptier for sure. I also don't expect we'll see many challengers at the gym until this blows over, or up."

"That's pessimistic," Viola pointed out. He shrugged.

"I prefer realistic positivity. Sounds less depressing."

---

No one was surprised when Nathan's conclusion was the correct one.

Most of Nimbasa was relatively deserted compared to what the bustling city was usually like, even in the daytime. Apparently, Nathan's preferred method of getting to the gym was having his Blaziken go roof hopping like a madman. Flannery had been fully on board with the idea, but the others who didn't have a death wish argued that they should do something sensible, like getting a very cramped ride in a cab.

After the previous night, every leader thought that they'd get spontaneously attacked a moment before they opened the gym doors. When they entered without an issue, the ease seemed almost off-putting. A girl in a UFO trainee uniform met them at the front, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She was young… probably barely into her late teens. She somehow looked more nervous than they felt. Nathan had also mentioned that he'd ordered his gym trainers to stay home, in case another mob came to knock on their door.

"Nathan!" The girl in the uniform called out. "I heard about last night, are you—are you okay? How are your…" She circled a hand around her torso.

"Not as painful as they were. I can climb. Still, I think it'll be a while before okay becomes a good descriptor for how we feel. But we're fine, physically. Mentally might take some time. Oh… uh, this is Maya Majors, the UFO trainee assigned to me for my gym trainer's protection. Maya, this is Morty of Ecruteak, Flannery of Lavaridge, Viola of Santalune, and Sela Schaffer from Snowpoint. I'm sure you've heard of them. And if I'm not mistaken, I think you and Sela know each other, right?"

Sela's eyebrows lifted. "What a small world. You were the Unovan dignitary to Sinnoh that didn't try to kill us."

Maya fidgeted nervously as Morty and Viola flinched. Sela really had to work on her tone. "I'm sorry! I had n-nothing to do with that! I swear."

"No, no, I'm not blaming you. I believe you, or you wouldn't be here. Didn't peg you for an interest in law enforcement, much less an operative. Weren't you a world class trainer? Why the change?"

"I… was," the younger girl said quietly.

Nathan gave Sela a pointed look, their eyes locking. He tapped his belt lightly with two fingers.

A moment of realization hit the tall woman as she glanced at the girl's half-filled belt of pokeballs. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Maya smiled weakly, then shook her head. "Bad things happen to anyone, no matter who they are. I'm here because I want to stop some of them. The right way." She swallowed thickly, then introduced herself to the other leaders in a nervous rush. No one brought up the topic again. When Nathan told the others he'd catch up with them on the platform, Maya calmed herself and walked over to him, eyeing him oddly.

"They're all so cool! And Morty's kind of cute. Your group's really—wait, when in the world did you get so tan?" She asked, changing course mid thought. She inched closer, and Nathan inched his head back equally. "I wanted to ask earlier because you've only been gone a few days. Did someone drug you and leave you on a rooftop while you were asleep?"

"No, wrong city. I'm told that unfortunately only happens at bachelor parties here in Nimbasa. People in Castelia only know how to work in stuffy suits and walk around like they're the most important thing god shit out."

Maya gave a short laugh. "Kind of true, but seriously. Why do you look like you spent a year sunbathing at a beach?"

"Or stuck in a desert," Nathan grumbled to himself, too low for Maya to hear. "Eh, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we are ready for another bright and beautiful day of waiting for challengers. And as a plus, Rolan's not here!" He snapped his fingers, remembering something. "Oh, did you call your parents? They live in Castelia, right? Weren't you worried with the sky cracking open and all? Or does that not faze you? That should faze you, doesn't happen every day. It was kind of cool looking too, when you get past it almost killing you and being absolutely terrifying."

Maya wasn't very adept at hiding her feelings, because he saw the way her emotions declared battle on her face.

"Ah, they're fine… probably."

"Probably?" This time he leaned in inquisitively, and she inched her neck back. "But you don't know."

"My parents live in suburbia. Unless the sky split open from the middle of downtown to the nicely paved streets of suburban Castelia and Mrs. Narrow's twenty Glameows, I think they're fine. And it was nighttime, everyone went home for the night anyway."

"Twenty Glameows…" Nathan repeated, bewildered. "Egh. I thought Tai and Haona together were a pain. They shed like crazy. But twenty? God. Her poor vacuum must be crying out for help."

"Yeah, well, nothing beats a crazy cat lady. My sister always said she's afraid she'll end up like her when she gets older. I just—I still don't want to tell mom and dad what I've been up to."

"I can't relate to parental pressures, but I mean, the sky did explode. Two middle aged suburban parents are scarier than a Legendary pokemon sneezing in your backyard?" She giggled. "There are worse things than your parents being unhappy. They're probably worried about you."

"They're always worried, especially these days."

Nathan exhaled and gave her a reassuring smile. It was strangely warm, and she felt like she was talking to an older brother instead of the twenty something old gym leader that laughed maniacally at trainers constantly. Where had that come from? "If that's what you think is best, I won't pressure you. As long as my fearless protector doesn't waver."

He gave her a head pat as she swatted at him, her cheeks quickly growing red. He danced away, laughing and heading for the first bar to the top. It took him longer than it usually did, his ribs most likely. That he was able to do it at all was impressive.

Still embarrassed, she almost followed him… and decided that was a stupid idea. She took the long ladder off to the side none of the trainers ever bothered looking for.

When she got to the top of the leader's platform, Nathan was animatedly explaining to the other unimpressed leaders about his "throne". That throne being a small chair at the far end of the platform that Nathan looked like a giant in. They did not look impressed. Maya buried her head in her hands. Why did the higher ups care about this guy so much again?

Sela glanced at a stack of half opened books beside the chair and sniffed. "You must have way too much spare time."

Nathan didn't even try to refute that. Dejectedly, he sighed.

Maya wondered if the other gyms were generally more active than this one, now that she was an observer and not a trainer. They must be. She knew guard detail was rather mindless from what the other operatives told her, but being in Nathan's gym was a unique experience up top. Down below was a rather hectic, in contrast. That was something Morty had picked up on quickly, touching on it when the girls offered to look for some lawn chairs to set up beside Nathan's… throne.

"Nathan, how many trainers do you get challenging you directly? Daily."

"Hard to recall… Three…? Maybe one? Sometimes none. I think."

"Uh, okay. And your gym trainers?"

"About forty plus on busy days. I lose count. That healing machine down there gets a workout, considering it had to get repaired twice already. In fact, my gym trainers' pokemon had to be rotated out because they were getting too strong for the gym, so some breeders are using the gym to train up juvenile pokemon for selling. They've never seen anything like it. Keeps the trainers on their toes. Most challengers don't make it past Rolan! He crushes them relentlessly, I'm so proud. Don't tell him I said that, kid has an ego that I can't let swell larger than mine."

"Soon both of your heads are going to start making hot air balloons jealous," Maya said.

"Hah!"

Morty's eye twitched. "Uh… I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but maybe lowering the height of the platform might make it easier for more kids to actually make it up here?"

Nathan leaned over on his chair, resting his chin on a palm. "Yeah, well, blame Elesa. She had rollercoasters in here before, so her platform was this height originally. When I took over, it was expected that the Challenger Rush would happen soon after, but little hiccups keep coming up."

"International incidents are little hiccups?"

"Medium hiccups."

What constituted a large hiccup? That thought was kind of scary. Nobody really wanted to ask, so Nathan kept talking.

"I had to make something out of the gym to work with the height of the platform. The alternative was build a giant ladder up here with colorfully repurposed neon signs but that wouldn't be very fun for Nimbasa's special flair. And wouldn't make me look as cool, so I had to do something simultaneously terrifying and challenging. Then it dawned on me. Exercise!"

"You installed a giant ladder anyway," Maya interjected. "It's just painted black and off to the side so nobody notices it in the dark."

"That's because someone kept complaining she couldn't keep using her assigned partner to teleport her up here. 'My Xatu is tired!'"

"He's a Natu. And he's not evolved yet so he gets tired from constant teleporting! It was a sensible decision!" Maya put her hands on her hips. Nathan mirrored her. "I'll head back downstairs to direct any trainers. If they decide to show up today."

"Don't have too much fun, Majors."

She huffed lightly and stepped off the platform into direct freefall.

Morty watched in horror until Nathan directed his eyes to the nets encompassing the sides of the arena. They were also painted black to give the illusion of a bottomless pit to scare trainers. "Ah, it's quite hard to see in the low light in here. So, if I'm seeing this correctly, then most of the action happens below. I hate to sound depressing, but what if someone attacks your gym trainers? How would you help them up here?"

"Hmmm. Falling is pretty fast."

Morty paled. Nathan grinned in response, then pointed to the ground below with a finger. "No, but seriously, that's what she's for. And see that up there?" He traced his finger up to the rafters. A metal railing ran around the circumference of the entire arena, with more than enough room for several people to stand.

"The rest of my team are up there for security. I can't use them in gym battles because they're both too strong, and outlawed in gym battles due to stupid Unovan weirdness about gym pokemon. As security though? Well. My Gallade is the first response, my Blaziken the muscle, and my Absol is my specialist for things my fighters are weak to. I can use them to throw belligerent idiots out or skewer them through the chest if they decide to lay a finger on my trainers. Hasn't been needed much, but I suspect it'll see some use. So be on your guard, some people may very well try to kill you."

Morty paused to see if the man was serious. It was hard to tell. "Apart from the ones already trying to do that?"

"Yep."

"…Should I know why?"

"Oh, just some official business we conducted a bit ago. We may have stumbled upon some things some very bad people were holding and liberated them. They didn't like that much."

"Official business? The unsavory sort of business?"

Nathan nodded very slowly. "When the Elite Four show up to bust some heads, a few of those bodies aren't getting back up. Quite a few don't deserve to at that point. Poachers and killers, that sort of thing."

Morty's eyes widened. Nathan, in contrast, looked like he was talking about last night's game. "You're way too relaxed about this."

"Yeah," the other man admitted quietly. "I had a slightly different career path than most trainers. Regular people don't really get it. Most trainers don't either. Ask Lance about it. Some people turn out like me, and others turn out like him."

He didn't even turn to look back at him. Just smiled hauntingly to himself.

Morty, unnerved, decided to stop asking questions, slowly settling into a shocked position in his chair. Three lawn chairs set down beside the two men as the other leaders joined them. And did what gym leaders normally did for half their day. They sat and waited. Which was awfully boring. Small wonder why many later circuit gym leaders often picked up hobbies. Apparently, Nathan liked to read textbooks and historical archives and almost nothing else. He read like there was some sort of secret he was trying to unravel, poring over every word.

Flannery stood up after a mind-numbing hour of zilch and peered over the edge when she heard shouting. Some sort of warcry? Even she had more challengers on an average day than this, and that was in a much smaller town way out in the corner of Hoenn separated by a desert, a mountain range, and rolling plains. This was ridiculous, they were in the middle of a bustling city!

At the bottom, a trainer was desperately trying to make his way up the climb, fingers white with—was that climbing chalk? There were others below him, hands also white with the stuff. Every grunt of effort from the struggling trainers made the gym sound like… well a traditional gym. The kid at the forefront was so dead set in his determination that he completely ignored the redhead peeking down at him from above. When he reached the last handhold, Flannery gave him an enthusiastic greeting.

"Hi!"

He yelped in surprise and nearly fell. She caught him in time, trying to pull him up as he resisted her. His body weight almost pitched her forward.

"What? Hey! I'm trying to help!"

"Pretty lady, stop! No, no! Don't help me! He'll say I cheated! Lemme go!"

A look of utter terror at the rafters came up on the boy's face. Flannery reluctantly let him go and the boy caught a grip on a bar as he left himself fall, arduously making his way back up and onto the platform. He panted heavily, covered in sweat. Utter triumph was the only thing the other leaders could see on the boy's face. He looked like he'd already won the badge, and he hadn't even started the battle yet. There weren't even any gym trainers today! Chalk was smeared across his cheeks like war paint. He lifted a hand in the air and gave the same warcry she'd heard earlier.

"I DID IT! WOOOOOO!"

Flannery couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's antics.

A pink flash appeared next to the leaders. Maya and a small Natu materialized, and the girl seemed more excited than the boy did. "Wow, you made it! How many attempts was that?"

Flexing his muscles, the challenger grinned widely at Maya. He even winked. "Eight, pretty UFO girl! I conquered that climbing course, now nothing is gonna stop me! Not even Legendary pokemon blowing cities up! I challenge you, Nathan, to a gym battle!"

Slowly closing his book, Nathan rose to his feet, an easy grin on his face. For however short a time he'd been a leader, he had the self-assured smile on his face down. Sela really thought the League should've thrown the guy in Opelucid instead, he had the arrogance at least. She eyed Morty and Viola, curious to see if Nathan's reputation as a terrible leader was earned or not.

"Daniel, I've been waiting for you to make your way up here. Good work! I can see it in your arms compared to where you were when you first strutted in here."

The kid's expression faltered. "Y-you know who I am?"

"Of course. Paige thinks you're cute. Maybe. Good thing she's not here to defend her dignity, I can use her absence as an excuse to say something interesting." The trainer turned a shade of crimson that managed to beat out the white chalk on his face. "Besides, you've tried to get up here eight times, after all. And every time you've strived to get up further and further. Do you remember each fall? Each bar?"

Daniel nodded furiously. Nathan strode over to the leader end of the platform.

"And unlike many others, you didn't give up and go complain about your inability to overcome, did you? Trainers often test their pokemon, but how often do they test themselves outside of battle? What if a cliff falls away under your feet and you have to climb your way out by your fingertips? We depend on pokemon for so many things that we can start to lose track of our own improvement. That's the point of my gym—to test you, Daniel. I know your pokemon can fight, but can you keep going when the odds are stacked against you? What is your strength? Your will?"

Nathan unclipped a ball from his belt and released a Liepard into the center, where it held its head high, as if looking down on the challenger and his team.

"You will only fight Tai today," Nathan instructed. The boy looked crestfallen, disappointment evident on his face. "Don't look so down, Daniel. I'm not treating you lightly. Tai is stronger than most Liepard you have seen so far, he's not just a pretty coat of fur, as much as he likes to pretend. Deception is a mighty ally, and a devastating opponent. Do not be fooled."

The feline preened, a sly grin on its face.

"This will be the standard that the Challenger Rush will be set at. Our strongest pokemon against the strongest the regions have to throw at us. It's not often you see a leader's pokemon at full strength. Today, you'll get a glimpse, prepare yourself. What will you do when a stronger trainer wishes to fight you and you have no choice? Will you honor the rules of battle, or will you even the playing field to win? To survive?"

The leader grinned widely, slightly manic.

"Use as many pokemon as you want. At once. Or don't. But I advise you to stack the cards in your favor as much as possible. Tai will not give you mercy. Oh, and mind the platform edges. Surroundings can make or break battles, use it to your advantage or your opponent will. Any pokemon knocked off the platform is disqualified. My Gallade will be waiting at the bottom should any of your team fall over the edge behind you."

Worried looks were exchanged across the other leaders' faces. That was certainly something you didn't see every day. Even the challenger looked confused. Morty chewed on a fingernail. Nathan wasn't training these kids for a traditional gym circuit. He was training these kids how to survive people trying to kill them suddenly. It was masked by the environment and the easy humor the man carried himself with, but after their previous conversation, his leader style made a frightening amount of sense.

Sudden ambushes, outnumbering a stronger opponent, unorthodox battling methods… all of which many more traditional challengers had complained about. Even the gym layout itself was a test. A crash course in practicality. The League knew this and approved of it, hence their lack of response to trainer complaints. What was Alder doing here?

The battle commenced and from the beginning the more experienced leaders instantly noticed the way the Liepard was fighting. It was being constantly bombarded and chased by attacks from the challenger's four pokemon, but it struck and retreated, positioning itself around the arena so that the other four were constantly interrupting each other's attacks while whittling them down. That wasn't a normal fighting style trained pokemon often displayed.

Nathan constantly yelled not at his pokemon, but at Daniel's. "Coordinate, cover each other and don't let him dismantle your formation. Watch your flanks, mind your gaps! When you fight a stronger opponent, corner him and do not let him breathe! Attack! Destroy him!"

Sela's face scrunched. "Does he want him to beat his pokemon? What is he doing?"

Despite the challenger's best efforts, Tai was far better accomplished in battle. The feline was like a shifting breeze, weaving between attacks by a hair's breadth as Daniel's team tried its best to corner it without tripping over themselves. Tai exploited their lack of coordination and countered whenever he could with iron tails and shadow claws. Four pokemon became three as the Liepard knocked one of the pokemon out of the arena to the nets below. Then it became two, and then finally, the challenger's Miefoo exchanged a shadow claw to the face to land a brick break on Tai's flank that sent him sprawling to the floor, where the feline remained. He conceded with a disgruntled cry.

Twenty minutes of constant back and forth had left their pokemon utterly exhausted. Nathan's Liepard limped over to him, his once immaculate coat singed, torn, and smudged with dirt and soot. Nathan scratched the feline behind the ears, whispering down to him.

"Good job, Tai. Sorry about the one to four disadvantage, had to make it fair."

"Yes, I'm sure you did." The cat groaned, tail swishing. "I almost forgot about the joys of being a gym pokemon, trainer. I have to hold back and let the kits beat me to a bloody pulp because you can't be asked to provide a scaled challenge for the smaller humans." He stretched out his wounded leg and winced. "Ugh, let Lynne fight next. Not being able to tear out their throats isn't very fun. She loves contests and prancing about."

Nathan laughed, returning the Liepard to its ball. He walked over to Daniel and brought out a small box, containing several shining metal badges that depicted light and dark, two sides of the same coin. "Here, the Duality Badge. Your team survived Tai's onslaught, so you earned this. Victory is sometimes living to tell the tale, everything else is just a bonus, yeah?"

The kid, face smudged with chalk, took the badge, stared at it, then broke down beside his wounded Mienfoo and began to weep tears of joy.

Nathan stood over the boy, then knelt to face him. "Feels good to win after all the struggle, huh? Compared to just walking in and demanding a battle after solving some inane puzzles. Makes the victory sweeter."

"Yeah… your pokemon are really strong. Are all theirs like that?" Daniel pointed to the others sitting on the other side of the platform. Nathan nodded.

"Probably better. I'm sure they got all kinds of tricks people have never seen."

"Wow."

"Well, let's get your team healed up. Your Mienfoo's bleeding all over the floor."

"Oh, r-right!"

As the leader led the boy over to the healing machine, Maya couldn't help but notice Nathan's sudden shift in style. Like he'd been a gym leader for years, not weeks. And Tai's battle prowess…

She knew that pokemon grew quickly when they trained with stronger pokemon regularly, but the Liepard had been a recent addition to Nathan's team. A challenger at the fourth level wasn't very strong, but four of their pokemon, one of which had a type advantage was a little much, even for a fully trained pokemon. And Tai had weaved through them all like he had eyes in the back of his head. The Liepard she'd known most of her life back home, Aubrey, didn't have a quarter of that skill. Well, she was practically a pet in comparison. Not a fair comparison, then.

He still fought with more experience than he should have. And he'd been a breeder pokemon, kept in an enclosure most of his life. That he was suddenly that good hit her like an out of tune chord. It didn't make sense.

Sela scratched her neck. "Tabloids were wrong, as usual. He's a gym leader alright. Just not a traditional one. But I can't help but notice… that Liepard of his seemed used to fighting multiple opponents. Does he train his pokemon to mug each other?"

Maya frowned. "Not that I've seen. But then again, I never see him train his pokemon with all the trainee stuff I have to go through. Maybe he does."

"Finding time to train your pokemon as a leader is difficult," Flannery said. "Especially with hobbies. I mean, Viola's a first and I hear you're almost never at your gym! Is that true?"

Viola blinked, reddening. "I m-might get caught up taking pictures in the forest. Maybe a little too often…"

Flannery grinned. "See? Nathan was a trainer until recently, right? He must specialize in triple or multiple battles. I guess that's just his style. We each have our own, so I can't wait to see what the Challenger Rush will show us about everyone. We spend so much time holding back we forget what it looks like letting loose."

"Yes," Morty mused. He eyed Nathan, then took a look at the rafters. He could barely make out the scarred crest of Baron, Nathan's Gallade. In the dim light the fighter's red eyes painted an ominous image.

Daniel had been Nathan's singular challenger. One kid in the entire day made it up there. At one point Flannery swore that she saw a line of kids waiting to climb those bars. Some complained that because there were no gym trainers that they should get a free shot at the leader. Nathan had walked over to the edge and laughed uproariously in response.

When the gym finally closed for the day and Sela had blown out a breath of relief so loud it sounded like a groan, the group made their way back to Nathan's home with little issue. Food had been delivered to the home for them, and Nathan had allowed them free use of the kitchen for meals. For hours, Nathan went back to his study to read and flip through newsfeeds with an intensity they swore they'd only seen in students in the big cities.

Again, it looked like the man was trying to find the secrets of the universe hidden inside books about legends and myths.

Then, once everyone had gone to bed, Viola had one of her Surskits listening intently for movement by the door. When the bug had alerted her that there'd been very silent shuffling coming from the door to Nathan's room, she creeped over and listened. The electronic lock on the door opened and clicked with barely a sound. He'd left. In the middle of the night. This was it.

Plan in mind, Viola donned her winter jacket and strode as quietly as she could after him. One way or another, Prime was going to talk.

---

"Marion, follow him if you can. Don't let him see you."

The Surskit bounced in place and raised a leg to its head in a salute, then scuttled off. When she made it to the lobby and outside, she saw Marion a way's away, pointing to a group of buildings that she vaguely recognized. Man was certainly fond of dark alleyways. She felt nerves crawling up her spine as she followed him into a dark corner of an unfamiliar city, but she needed answers, and he was going to give them to her.

Light from the street behind her cut off as she warily made her way through the alleys, her anxiety rising when Marion didn't appear to guide her. She began to run. Shadows lengthened and darkened further in away from the neon of the city around her.

Where's Marion? Did she get caught, what if—

A hand gripped Viola's shoulder, and she reacted.

She felt her forearm seize as the man blocked her punch and whirled her backwards enough to make her stumble. She caught herself on her knees and hands before she nearly crashed to the floor, startled if unharmed. She spun around quicker than she thought possible, facing her attacker.

"Mean arm you got on you, for a photographer. I don't mean to tell another adult what she should be doing, but perhaps following a stranger into dark alleyways alone isn't the best idea. Especially for an attractive young lady." Nathan Ethne said, standing right where she'd been a moment ago. "Sending a Surskit to scout is certainly something I've never seen before. Bit of a tip for next time, they have very audible scuttling on wet concrete, like very fast pattering. It's unnatural in an urban environment, easy to distinguish."

Scuttling silently along a wall, a large Galvantula came into view with a struggling, chittering Surskit webbed to its back. The giant tarantula clicked its mandibles together as it stared at Viola, shuddering as if laughing.

"Spoopy heard something skittering over, so he set a shocking web down. Your Surskit came barreling around the corner and tripped it. Fell right on her face. It was pretty funny." Spoopy the spider shuddered again in a spider's version of a laugh. "And I thought, 'shit, who in the world tails someone with a Surskit'?"

Viola gave him an indignant glare, rising to her feet steadily. No ghosts or psychics close. "Where did you even come from?"

He looked up, where a fire escape sat several feet above the ground. The man regularly climbed a parkour course from hell, obviously he had no trouble with verticality. She felt stupid for not noticing it sooner. Nathan turned his attention back to her, tilting his head in question. "What are you doing here, Viola?"

"I should be asking you the same thing! Let Marion go!"

Nathan waved a hand and the Galvantula unwrapped the Surskit quickly, giving the smaller bug a tap on the head with a fuzzy mandible. Now freed, the Surskit darted over to Viola with surprising speed, quivering partly with fear and partly with a desire to protect. Nathan's Galavantula apparently didn't share the same sentiment, still vibrating with amusement.

"I was taking a stroll, by the way. Those aren't illegal in Kalos. Or in Unova."

"In the middle of the night?"

"I like the contrast."

"While expecting people to follow you?"

"These are dangerous times."

"People don't have their Galvantulas set traps behind them when they're out for a 'walk'."

"Nothing wrong with being thorough."

"I think you're lying. About a lot of things."

"Hmmm. I've noticed you giving me hostile glares since the hotel debacle. What's your deal? Did I offend you somehow? Was this about the paparazzi comment? I already apologized for that, really."

"What? No." That stoked her anger hotter. "I know who you are, Riven Cerul. Or Prime, whatever you call yourself these days. I knew you looked familiar, and here you are lying to my face, pretending you're something you're not."

Nathan didn't so much as flinch, he just blinked back at her. "Wait, what? You think I'm— Me?"

Viola ground her teeth. He'd prepared for this. Back in Santalune, he'd shown her and the rangers the rictus of scars he'd had on his body. Those didn't just go away. "Prove it to me that you're not him. Take off your shirt."

Bewildered, Nathan's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "First you follow me into an alley, accuse me of being a violent mercenary, and then you demand me to take my shirt off? Do you know how that sounds from where I'm—"

Viola's patience ended immediately, and with a violent fling, she tossed her jacket to the floor and began to take off her shirt. Not once did she break eye contact as her scowl intensified.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked, stuttering stupidly.

"Undressing. Obviously."

"Stop," Nathan said, holding out his hand. She stopped midway, glaring. He palmed his face, looking for Spoopy for help. The Galvantula snickered at him. "I don't know what you're trying to do here, but just… stop. What is this, Viola? Why do you want me to take my shirt off? Here of all places?"

"Because contacts can change your eye color, but you can't hide scars. Prime had them carved into his body. Lift your shirt, or I'll strip naked and stroll through the neighborhood. I wonder what the media would have to say about that. And what they would say about you."

He sighed. "I'll pretend I didn't hear you threaten me, out of respect for you and for Alder. If I do what you ask, will you cover up and not do something stupid?"

"Yes."

He nodded seriously, and pulled his shirt off with the ripping of fabric. This was not what Viola had expected.

There were scars on him, but they were smaller and less pronounced, not the macabre rictus she'd seen before. No, not scars… burns. Lots of them, spread out across his body in various places. They weren't aesthetically pleasing, yet the sight was odd, like some of the burns had been glancing, and others right on target. Torture, or had he run into a lot of fire pokemon? She stood silently, dumbfounded. Nathan put his shirt back on and shivered from the cold, grimacing at the stretched collar.

"I'm not sure if ladies are really forward these days, but asking guys to take their shirts off in dark alleyways isn't romantic, you know. There are much better ways to get our attention. I liked this shirt, too."

He didn't grin or smile, but his tone was that of a man that had just played his ace-in-the-hole and won. It made her furious, because she knew he was still a liar. If overt threats weren't working then she'd try something else. Her own ace.

Viola quickly walked over to her discarded jacket, rifled through the pocket and thrust a plastic bag out in front of her. Inside, a glowing yellow-white sphere sat brilliantly amongst the darkness.

The easy, lackadaisical nature of Nathan eroded as he went deathly still, his eyes locked on the sphere. Even the Galvantula stopped shuddering, going silent. Slowly, Nathan looked up to furious green eyes and cursed, closing his own. "Shit."

"You can stop pretending you don't know what I'm talking about now."

She felt a pressure coming from him as something came over him, eyes now twin pools of what seemed like the depths of the sea—cold and dangerous. Her nerves nearly seized up, only just managing not to flinch in the presence of that gaze. It was like staring down a Houndoom from a distance. Her fear was overcome by sheer stubbornness.

"Where did you—"

"No, Prime. You answer my questions." Viola demanded. "What are you doing here in Unova, why are you a gym leader? What are you pretending to be? You're not even from Kalos! What is… this! Why couldn't I remember your face?! What did you do to me? Who are you?!"

Confusion passed across his face, the danger ebbing away. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Someone modified my memories to keep you a secret."

Viola didn't know if the man was feigning his shock or if he was acting like it.

"I didn't do anything to you, Viola. I swear. You… couldn't remember? You didn't recognize me at all?"

"No, I didn't. Just a vague feeling of familiarity. You want to know why I'd risk my reputation and my decency to cut through your bull, Prime? Because knowing that someone messed with my brain without me knowing is terrifying. Four years of not knowing I didn't know. Then having a stranger come and peel it away. Does that sound right to you?"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she shuddered.

"I didn't recognize a man I swore I'd ingrained into my head. And someone took the picture I had of you after killing that Pangoro. One of my best. I had no idea about that either. Until Tesla told me who you were and made me remember, by describing exactly how you looked like. It came back like a lightning bolt, like I suddenly knew but someone needed to open my eyes. There was a fog that didn't let me recall your face no matter how much I tried. He said it was a telltale sign of amnesia being used on someone. Deep amnesia. Highly intrusive. Who messed with my head? Was it you, someone you know?"

"What? No. Prime couldn't have… I-he, didn't have any pokemon at the time." Nathan went silent. "Cormac. Isole. They covered their tracks. And Prime's. They must have hazed your memory when they let me go. I left their group shortly after Centrico." He pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking then snapping his fingers. "During the attack, there was a woman in a dress and a man next to him, do you recall what they look like?"

Just like before, all she recalled was vague details, unable to place any features or faces to the man and woman that had been beside Prime for a brief moment while he'd been paralyzed. She took a minute of deep concentration, but the fog was there again. She doubted her own memory, but was that a result of the amnesia, or her own brain?

Then Nathan described their clothing, the attire they wore at the time—their features. And everything came into crystal clear detail.

Viola's face went from righteous anger to shocked realization. "I… I didn't even remember them. They were faceless for the longest time but… I remember Steven Stone was there, and all the officers. Clear as day. Everyone except them and up until recently, you. I never questioned it before."

"I assume that was the point. Memory manipulation that goes deeper than the surface is insidious. There's a reason amnesia isn't allowed to be used on people in most places. Unova doesn't agree with the rest of the world in that regard. Whoever did it wanted it to be so subtle you would just live your life without giving it a second thought. Nera might have done it. She was the leader of the merc group I was with in Kalos. I think she messed with your memory, or ordered someone to. She's unscrupulous, maybe even cruel. I wasn't in Kalos by choice. When I told you about Hoenn, I wasn't lying. I had to leave my pokemon behind. After Prism Tower, the man who paralyzed me at the top of the tower freed me. And he's here in Unova. Aveena warned me things would be awkward. I'm guessing this is what she meant. Tesla was that man in the tower. I take it you've met. No one else knows my true name."

"Of course I know him," she spat. "I still don't understand what in god's name you're doing here as… this. Does being a gym leader mean nothing to you? And now because of it some spook involved me in whatever mess you're caught up with! Again! What if I wind up dead? Who's next, Flannery? Because he named her too! What sort of danger are we in?"

"Flannery…" Nathan's jaw clenched. "I didn't want to involve you. Tesla must've known that I tipped you off about Prism Tower. And you're in my group. It'd be the perfect play to force me into a situation to divulge more information than I was letting on, then maybe having a psychic rip it out of you. He's using you as leverage. Against me."

A bitter laugh came from Viola. "So, I'm just getting used, then? Why am I not surprised? And now I'm stuck with you for… weeks? Living in your home? Having to see you lie to the others in my face? I hate mercenaries, you all just use people. The entirety of who you are, Nathan Ethne, is a lie. Who even are you? Prime? Nathan? This Riven that's supposed to be your real name? You keep talking about him like he's a different person at the same time, why?"

"Because he isn't me anymore. I used to be Prime. I used to be all me, and now I'm not. Now I'm Nathan and Riven. Nathan is the Unovan gym leader. Riven is who I am normally. Prime was the mercenary, and that name belongs to another now. In time, Prime will belong only to him."

Green eyes glanced up at him, narrowing. "That doesn't make any sense. Prime is just an alias. A mask. You're the same person."

"Are we?"

"Stop trying to sound cryptic. It's annoying."

"World is stranger than you think. Masks can often become something more. Sometimes… literally. You asked what I was doing here earlier. I was coming to meet myself. Or what used to be part of myself. And isn't now."

Viola processed that for a moment, then threw up her hands. "Okay... you're messing with me, or you're insane. Either way, I'm done with this. Marion, let's go. I'm sure the others will love to hear about this." She almost strode away before Riven pulled her back and she slapped his hand away. Lightning crackled between the Galvantula's fangs as Marion tried to move to defend her.

"I can't let you leave with that." The fake gym leader pointed at the bag and Viola hugged the plastic bag to her chest, gripping it tightly. She tensed just as he did. Neither moved their hands to their belts. Nathan stepped back first. "Let's not jump to violence just yet, I think we should clarify things a bit more. You're involved in this now, and… well, I feel bad. Whatever stress this has caused you, I'm sorry. We should talk. Away from here. Back home, on the roof, and with less shouting."

"To kill me somewhere more private?"

"I could kill you here if I wanted, Viola. No, I just want to talk. Really."

"Okay, and if I do this, you'll tell me what this little sphere has to do with mercenaries, hotels exploding, Unova being in turmoil, and why a killer mercenary is suddenly a gym leader that's in charge of my group?!" Viola yelled, her voice growing hoarse. "Because frankly, I'm tired of it! I lived four years without people like you, had some actual relaxation for once, and now I'm here and I've almost died twice. Then a complete stranger decides to use me like a pawn on his chess board because I had the misfortune to briefly work with you. Which puts me in more danger than I'm already in. How am I supposed to feel about that, Nathan?"

Nathan stood woodenly in the alleyway, as if trying to find the right words. He slouched as if shouldering a great weight. "Please don't tell the rest of the leaders. It wouldn't end well."

"Why not?" She challenged. "You still didn't answer my question. I have nothing to lose here, apparently."

"You don't believe that and you know it."

"So what if I don't? I'm the one with the bargaining chip." She held up the small bag like it was an explosive waiting to go off. "Tesla said if you started being dodgy, that I should threaten touching it. That should loosen your lips." She unzipped the bag and Nathan swallowed grimly. Two of her fingers reached halfway into the bag and Nathan held out a hand, pleading.

"Please don't do that," he urged uncomfortably. Viola didn't seem very convinced. "Do you have any idea what you're about to touch? What it'll do to you?"

"Tell me then." Her eyes narrowed, but her fingers remained. "I want to hear you say it, because I barely believe Tesla as it is. What little he told me."

"It will kill you. Judging from the color, it'll pump enough electricity into your body to make your heart explode, then it'll rebuild your body as electricity disintegrates the rest of your flesh and bones. Then, when the light goes out, you'll remember every second of it, and you'll be reborn. Into an Origin. Like me. And your life will never be the same again. Don't do this unless you are absolutely sure that you can accept the consequences. Once severed, that thread of fate can't be repaired. You won't know peace. Not if you become one of us."

Viola faltered for a moment, the desperation in his voice seeming real. But mercenaries lied through their teeth all the time, the Krookodile tears were just an act. "Consequences? Hah. Tesla told me quite a story. There's no way that people with pokemon like abilities exist. I think it's all just—"

Nathan spun on a heel, slashing upward with a knifed hand. Instantly, black and blue energy shot outward from his fingertips, raking across the brick wall in a slash of darkness and sending pieces of the wall out into the alleyway in an explosion of dust and debris.

Viola blinked, fingers brushing against pokeballs as her heart hammered in her chest.

Nathan walked up to the slash in the wall, ran a line through some of the dust with a finger and blew on it. Black and blue wisps of otherworldly power swirled around him like smoke. "Do I have to destroy a building to convince you, or is this enough?"

"I-I believe you," Viola said, staring in awe at the gash in the wall. She reached for her camera and took a picture.

"Great," he said, waving away the darkness. "Because I can't really destroy a building." The humor that had bled away returned for a moment, and Viola didn't feel like he'd turn around and slice open her throat. He fidgeted with his hands. "Sorry about the sudden attack, I didn't want to get asked to make tentacles or tendrils or anything stretchy to appear again. Do you know how demeaning that is? Darkness does not mean tentacles! It'd ridiculous that everyone thinks that."

Was this really Prime, or was the Nathan guise just convincing enough to fool her? She really couldn't decide. And the whole thing about Prime was still confusing. Why was he still talking about him like he was a different person? She could admit, however, that what he'd just done went against everything she knew about people and pokemon. Maybe he was telling the truth about Prime, as unlikely as that seemed. She paced around, eyeing Nathan as if he were an illusion she could pierce if she focused hard enough.

"I'm not a Zoroark in disguise, Viola."

"You're sure you're not really Prime, then?"

He groaned.

"It sounds hard to believe, I get it. I don't act like Prime anymore because that part of me is gone now. I mean I can do it, but it's not the same." Viola narrowed her eyes suspiciously again. "Know what? Let's just—let's go to the rooftop, away from here and get this sorted out. Is that okay with you or are we going to keep yelling in a dark alley? It attracts unwanted attention. And I kind of almost blew up a wall. Someone must've heard that."

Viola eyed the wall carefully, then looked back to him and crossed her arms. She was feeling rather petulant, planting her feet. "I'm not walking."

A sinister grin emerged on the Unovan leader's face. "Oh, that won't be a problem."

---

"Oh my god!" Viola screamed in terror as she held on for dear life to the tuft of warm feathers that was currently keeping her from being paste. Nathan's Blaziken let out an exhilarated shriek as she leapt from building to building, shooting stories high with a single bound. The ground came up frighteningly close multiple times as the Blaziken slowed their descent with a burst of flame to propel them upward and another to take off again, exploding off the ground like a rocket.

She held Viola in her arms and during the arc of their jump onto the rooftop of their destination, Viola peered over her shoulder and managed a truly breathtaking view of Nimbasa and the beautiful neon covered sight of the Rondez-View Ferris Wheel. It briefly overcame that stomach lurching feeling of plummeting to the ground to her death.

They landed with a thud and a blast of fire. Shakily, Viola nearly fell onto the heated ground out of Aine's arms. She knew some trainers had unconventional methods of trouble but this was absurd! Somewhere below them, the others were obliviously, blissfully asleep. And here she was nearly getting a heart attack after—

A whoosh of air reached her ears just as something metallic clanged into the ground behind her and she let out a very undignified scream. A blood red blade with an eyeball in the center gave her a curious once over, and her face almost went white after realizing what it was. Then Nathan appeared in a blur of movement, right in front of her face, grinning wildly.

"Hey."

Aine stopped her from pitching over the side of the roof.

Nathan chuckled to himself, removing the embedded blade from the ground. Ribbons of curling fabric drifted over to Viola before Nathan slapped them away and reprimanded the ghost by flicking the eyeball on the blade. "No, Efrain, we're not going to suck her." He paused as he realized what he'd said. "Uh… Ignore that, poor choice of words. Did you enjoy the trip here?"

"That was on purpose, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely. Punishment for the attempted blackmail."

"How do you even travel like that? I thought my heart was going to explode," she said, holding her chest. "Wait, how did you even get up here? You came from the… sky." She stared up at the black sky and squinted in confusion. "I don't—there's no bird or dragon. So then how?"

"A Doublade's swords kind of exist as one entity in existence, so they can instantly reappear where the other is in a way I don't understand nor care. Something, something Schrodinger's sword, uh… electrons and spinning, I don't know. If I'm holding onto one of the swords, I can come with. Thing is… uh, ever hear of the conservation of momentum? Physics is really cool, I learned a lot sitting in that chair all day."

Viola chewed on his words, processed them, and stared at him like he was a madman. "If you're wrong by just a moment—"

"Squish, yeah." He must have realized how crazy that sounded, because he laughed nervously. "Self-preservation is historically not my strongest quality. I'm working on it."

"I see that."

Just then, the door to the rooftop entrance opened and out stepped… another Nathan wearing winter clothes and a big traveling pack on his back. He looked ready to trek up a mountain for a year, and he was very obviously peeved about something.

He was every bit the same as Nathan, except this Nathan's eyes weren't blue, but a deeper red. Not like Flannery's at all. There was no easy smile and casual demeanor either. He gave Viola the same sense of fear she'd felt in front of the gym before Nathan had collapsed, and his dry frown could have been a scowl if it had been giving enough neglect to wither—like a dried out weed. Probably the only things they didn't share were the eyes and the skin tone, with the red eyed one being lighter than Nathan, who appeared like he spent significantly more time in the sun. That was where the differences ended. Uncanniness hit her like a runaway train, and she froze. She knew twins could look similar, sure, yet she was sure that there was no such thing as too identical. And twins didn't have radically differing eye colors. Contacts?

She gaped, open mouthed.

Other Nathan gave her a quick glance, paused in genuine surprise, then looked to his blue-eyed twin. Riven motioned to him with his fingers.

"Excuse us for a moment."

He went over and started to whisper to the red eyed Nathan, who kept eye contact on Viola. His gaze was uncomfortable in a way she couldn't name, and probably because of her own mental state, she glared right back. He broke away first. She never thought of herself as very strong compared to some of the other leaders who could probably stare down a dragon, but she tried her best.

The two men began to discuss fervently about something, throwing hand motions her way while one or both of them pinched the bridge of their noses in exasperation using the exact same motions. Her skin prickled. At one point, a look of curious interest passed over the scarier Nathan's face before weird Nathan wrenched his attention back.

Viola was getting tired of watching them prattle on privately, now pacing back and forth. "Are you done whispering like schoolchildren yet?" She called, tapping her foot impatiently. "Get over here, Prime. And… Nathan. The blue one. You have questions to answer and I'm this close to going downstairs and having you both explain to the entire group instead."

Dealing with children was easy compared to adults, they at least listened when you spoke sternly enough. Which is why it annoyed her when the one Nathan had convinced her was actually Prime had tried to be friendly, in a useless effort to quell the tension. He'd waved. She didn't wave back. Everyone awkwardly stared at each other for a moment until Viola sighed, dropping her tough act.

"Can you please come over here?"

They still weren't moving. That changed when she made a motion of heading for the exit. Prime had stepped forward, and she turned around to face him, her expression saying, "well"? He was peering down at her with visible discomfort. She straightened her spine, the trainer in her emerging with ferocity.

"Twins don't usually have different eye colors, unless they're contacts also. What kind of prank are you pulling here?"

The merc held her gaze for a second and let out a groan. "I thought this was going to be quick. Agh. This is a pain in the ass, can't we just modify her memory or something and bypass all this?"

Nathan's palm met his forehead.

Viola recoiled violently at Prime's words, reaching for a pokeball. Something had caught her wrist as it had slipped to her belt, holding her tight. Crystallized threads of black cord rose from the ground, tightly constricting her wrist and preventing her from moving. Across from her, the red eyed Nathan held his left hand in an upwardly hooked position, the fingers curled like a claw. "Slow down there, Viola. You trying to have a battle on a bloody rooftop with Aine right behind you and me in front? Is that a wise idea?"

The Blaziken gave her a sad frown, urging her not to. Viola's free hand moved away from her belt. "You are not wiping my memory. I don't care how dangerous you are, or that we worked together in the past. I don't trust you. Or him." She pointed at Nathan. "Especially him. He's… weird."

"Hey, that's rude. See, this is why you can't just go around saying to people that you'll use amnesia on them," Nathan grumbled. "Especially right now. Ruins rapport."

"Are you talking about the general populace getting wiped by the UFO? She didn't get her memory wiped. And I have your brain, remember? I'm surprised she went this long without recognizing you since Kalos, I thought you would have had this conversation already without me getting chewed out for it. This was your problem."

"No, it's ours. Because Nera had her memory wiped all this time after Kalos. Or Isole did. I don't know, but it's fucked. That's why she didn't recognize me until Tesla made her remember. Which is why we're here and she isn't happy. Then you go and mention more psychic intrusion to someone who had that fact revealed to them."

"What am I, some sort of psychic? I didn't know that."

Riven buried his head in his hands again.

"Well now you do."

"I see. Hindsight. Very helpful."

"I hate arguing with you. Regardless, apologizing would be a good step to take, wouldn't it?"

The twins glared at each other before the red one sighed. "…Sure."

The two men turned to face Viola at the same time. Prime's expression softened.

"Viola… I'm sorry. Baron doesn't know how to do that anyway. It's just… the colors above you are a damn mess. It's an eyesore." Her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. "I'd like to say it's nice to see you again, but circumstances make this inconvenient."

"Losing circulation is inconvenient. My hand is turning purple," she said, struggling against the bonds on one of her wrists. "At least get rid of whatever this is. Nathan said you guys don't do tentacles."

Other Nathan gave original Nathan an incredibly dirty look. He frowned, tilting his head to look at the threads.

"What? I mean... it does kind of look like tentacles."

Prime grunted in annoyance as he snapped his fingers and black thread dissipated like smoke into the night, freeing Viola's wrist. As Prime approached, she didn't shrink away, this time stepping forward. Anger born from the stress of recent events came out of her like a raging fire. Nathan and Prime must've seen something on her face because the former had wisely backed off while the latter froze like a Sawsbuck in the headlights. She fearlessly stomped over to the mercenary and jabbed a finger into his chest, which led to another jab after each word.

"He. Trapped. Me. In. A. Restroom!" She shouted, teeth bared.

"He—what?"

"Tesla! With a Bisharp and a rifle. Dressed as an operative, the people supposed to be protecting us. Do you know how terrifying that is? As a gym leader? As a woman? Of course, you don't, do you? Because you're a big, bad mercenary, even though it's your fault! Your fault, Prime! You did this to me! I thought I was done with the madness and deranged pokemon and mercenaries and maniacs, and here I find myself, dragged right back to you! With not one, but two of you! Why!?"

Prime looked utterly dumbfounded, numbly taking the jabs as she grew more and more distressed. Jabs gave way to closed fist strikes as her anger shifted into anxiety and exhaustion. He had no idea what to do. He gave Nathan a pleading look, but the gym leader just shrugged.

"And to make matters worse, he gave me a stupid marble that apparently gives you superpowers if it kills you! And he didn't even have the decency to tell me! Just give me a spiel of cryptic garbage!"

She took out the bag with the sphere in it and hurled it across the rooftop, narrowly missing the edge. Spent of energy, the blonde walked over to the rail and sagged to the ground, frustration painting the area above her head in a muted green haze.

Nathan gave Prime a look, gestured at her then made his way over to the bag.

Viola heard boots approaching her and she stiffened. A firm hand settled on her shoulder. Not painful. Just… firm. She almost tore it away like she'd done to Nathan earlier, but she was mentally spent. Was he going to kill her now? Nathan wasn't a mercenary, but Prime was. He could probably cut her throat right now, dump her body somewhere, and not care about the consequences. She barely cared anymore.

"My name's not Prime," the red eyed Nathan began quietly. "Our real names are… I'm Hasei. You've already met Riven. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. For what happened to you. And the trouble we brought you. Centrico was a… desperate call. And there was no one else we could trust." An uncomfortable silence stretched on as Viola remained motionless and silent, not looking at him. Hasei cleared his throat and spoke again. "Look, I'm not very good at this. Here."

There was the sound of a zipper opening and something small and square appeared beneath her. A chocolate bar with a wrapper that had a yawning Vulpix on it. Then he offered another, as if offering more would make it better. He was already preparing a third. She stared at them, incredulous. It was so surreal that it felt like something out of a fever dream. She dared to look into his eyes now, and the sheer act alone made her skin crawl with an almost primal fear, but there was a genuineness there that overshadowed it and reached the rational part of her brain.

She took the candy with a slight bit of reluctance.

"Who is the original Prime? Hasei or… Riven?" She asked, looking to both of them.

Riven spoke up this time. "We both are, technically. Logically, it's him. Used to just be me before, and Prime was just another personality I used. Then we got split and strange things happened. Now we're neither wholly him or who we used to be. But to be correct in a sense, Prime is me with the prickliness turned up a notch." He gave her a wistful smile. "We're not twins in the original sense, as you may have guessed. Special case, only one in the world, I think. Or ever."

"Split," she said, hanging on the word. "Like mitosis or...?"

"Uh… sure?"

"Then how?"

Riven cringed before he said it. "Legendary. Of sorts."

Viola couldn't help but laugh at the irony. "Always is."

"Every time there's something outrageous, yeah. This probably looks like magic from your view."

"I'm just a photographer. It's all magic to me." Viola said, shrugging her shoulders. She studied them both, thinking. "Can I confirm something?"

Hasei was skeptical, looking to Riven, who gestured toward her with a hand. Viola immediately asked Hasei to take off his shirt. Riven took a very deep breath. She heard him whisper a prayer under his breath and held in a giggle.

"You want me to take off my shirt?" Hasei asked slowly. She nodded seriously. He raised a finger and his face said that he was struggling very hard to find a logical reason for it. "Why?"

"The scars. I'm just curious," Viola explained casually. She tried to hide it, but the man just blinked in disbelief. Riven wasn't looking too great and must've expected her to try her previous method, because he let out a breath of relief when Viola kept her hands at her sides. Maybe asking nicely would do something, and she didn't really trust Hasei to stop her like Nath—Riven had.

Hasei remained unconvinced until he saw Viola unwrap the chocolate he gave her, taking an innocent bite. "It won't hurt you, will it?" She asked with a mouthful of candy. She batted her eyes for extra effect and she saw Riven gape incredulously at the sight.

The mercenary regarded her for a moment, then relented with a grunt. "Fine."

"Great!"

This time, Viola's guess had been correct. When Hasei lifted his shirt, she saw the jagged scars that Prime had shown all those years ago. They were faded and healed over far better than they used to be, covering most of the man's muscled physique. The scars used to be like a veil that nobody could see past, but now she could actually see the male form beneath without wincing.

"Do you need more time? It's cold up here."

"No, no. I—You can put your shirt back on."

Hasei reached for his shirt and coat with a shiver. "Is your curiosity satisfied? You kind of stared for a while."

"Y-yes, I'm satisfied. Not satisfied, I mean—I did not stare that long!" She reddened visibly as the mercenary raised an eyebrow. "You two not having the same scarring is just weird."

"Originally we did," Hasei explained, giving Riven a questioning sideways glance. The leader nodded at the unspoken question, also shrugging with his hands. "We're different people now, playing different roles. I figured the scars could stay if they were a little less ugly. I remember how you and the others reacted the first time, it's not a pretty sight. It's all a bit weird, but we must not look that weird compared to what you've seen recently."

Viola recalled the week she'd had and blew out a breath. "I can stomach it more today than a week ago. Castelia was technically yesterday. Compared to that, this Origin stuff and you two splitting like a cell is like a mole hill in front of a mountain. A big dune, maybe? Actually—" She took out her camera and snapped a picture of them. "So I can convince myself later that it wasn't a fever dream that I imagined two Nathans."

"I suppose," Hasei said, blinking his eyes from the flash. She tried to look at both of them, but found it strangely more natural to speak to the scarier one that resembled Prime, rather than the gym leader she'd only known for a few days. He still rubbed her strangely. Even standing there doing nothing they gave off completely different feelings. And really, that was more or less the truth, wasn't it? One was a gym leader with strange habits and a tendency for sly barbs, and the other a mercenary that offered chocolates as apologies while also being completely capable of ripping people to pieces the very next moment. Both of them had semblances of Prime's original mannerisms, based off the short time she knew him.

Extremely violent tendencies probably should have bothered her more than it was at the moment. Maybe it was the shock of it all. She unwrapped another one of the chocolates and took a bite, savoring the flavor as she inspected the red marks left behind on her skin from the dark threads. She swore they'd had the consistency and feel of steel wire.

"People really are pokemon," she said absently, rotating her wrist.

"Again, sorry about that," Hasei apologized, noting the markings with a frown. "I… panicked. But yes, this is how we were originally; thanks to time traveling screw ups, it's bled into this era. This really is all of the legendary pokemons' fault. Along with a generous helping of human meddling with powers they shouldn't really be messing with. Humans are idiots."

"Doesn't that describe most human interactions with Legendary pokemon?" The two men agreed completely. She inched closer to Prime, this time curious. "I'll forgive getting me into another heap of trouble if you show me something then. Nath—I mean Riven nearly blew up a wall, which was nice, but can you do something more visually appealing? Pokemon blow stuff up all the time, it's not very impressive to a trainer, you know? I'd love to capture something more interesting on camera."

"That was just a demonstra—"Riven's mouth dropped open. "Are you power shaming me, Viola? Do you have any idea how many people on this earth can do what I did?"

"I'm sure you're very special," she deadpanned. "I still want photos. My camera is ravenous."

Hasei wrestled down a laugh with very visible difficulty.

"I'm not mad," Riven announced defensively, secretly seething. "Not even in the slightest. Not at all."

"He's lying," Hasei said, a snort escaping. "He's definitely upset. Look at him try to hide it." Viola giggled, bits of chocolate coming out as she did. The first positive thing they'd heard out of her all night. It was a pleasant sound. "Alright. I'll show you something more interesting, if just to rinse the bad taste of disappointment away."

"This is bullshit," Riven complained. He gestured at Viola. "Well go on then. Impress the girl. Shoot a damn firework out of your hands or something."

A new eagerness filled Viola's eyes, and she excitedly pulled out her camera. Riven cocked his head, watching Viola closely but saying nothing. Again, Viola noted that he wasn't looking at her directly, but above and around her. She wondered what he kept looking at. Rather than pay attention to his weirdness, she focused on Hasei.

Holding one hand out toward her, Hasei exhaled deeply as wisps of black and red energy formed out of thin air, coalescing into a ball in his palm. Energy swirled for a moment, solidifying into a shape of unfurling, blade-like black glass. A palm sized miniature of a Surskit shifted into being within a moment, identical to Marion, Viola's pokemon. With a smile, the statue raised a foreleg in a wave, the glass cracking and splintering off like darkened ice as it did. Viola gasped and laughed in awe, taking several pictures from different angles as Hasei held it there and growing more excited as she did.

She made several comments of amazement as the photographer in her came out in full force, striking different poses to get different angles on the sculpture.

Then, in a motion like setting a baby Pidgey off to fly, Hasei spread his hands to the sky and a Masquerade burst from the Surskit in a puff of dark energy. Light glittered off its crystal carapace from the city below, and with each beat of its wings, dark smoke broke away from it until its shape lost cohesion and dissolved into the night. Viola had been so stunned by the sight that she had forgotten to take any pictures of the recreated bug in flight.

"That was amazing!" Viola exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Can you do it again? I just need a shot of that against the sky!"

Shaking his head, Hasei declined. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. "I wish I could. Takes a lot of energy and focus to fine tune details like that, and make it move without it turning to pieces. Darkness is uniquely hard to work with, unlike something tangible. Making it complex and detailed increases the expenditure exponentially. Usually using it to make shapes is straight forward. Less strenuous."

"Oh. Does it cause you pain?"

"Makes my brain hurt. But I'll live. Besides, it was worth it to cheer you up. I sense your mood's been dour lately."

She smiled to herself. "Thank you for that. What do you usually use this energy for, if making something so small tires you out this much?"

"Blades, spikes, flails, arrows, spears of destructive energy. Columns of destruction. Giant raking claws. Dark pulses." He paused. "Nail filers. Simple things without much moving parts."

Remembering who she was talking to, she figured she had walked into that one. "I should have expected that. It was still a beautiful waste, at least. I got some good pictures of dark Marion! She'll love it."

Hasei stared at his open hand and chuckled mockingly to himself. "The ability people have dreamt of since they first discovered pokemon and here we are using it to make parlor tricks for pretty girls. It's funny. Human instinct is a powerful thing. I felt like I had to impress you. Is that normal?" Riven watched both of them and rolled his eyes. "Still, I didn't want to show you how we can use this to kill. World's seen enough of that. Better to show a photographer something beautiful instead, so they can preserve it."

Riven looked like someone had twisted his brain. "Where the hell did he get an artistic side from?" He wondered aloud. "God knows I never had that. And flattering women? What the fuck is this? Are you sure you're me?"

"It may be original, considering I was the more passionate part of us. And you're about as artistic as a Zubat with a paintbrush," Hasei replied with a sneer. "Good handwriting is all he's got."

"You're welcome for the donation."

Viola smiled briefly as they bickered. Her mood shifted as she stared at the sphere in Riven's hands. When the twins stopped their chatter, Riven had backed away a few steps to hold it, his eyes closed in concentration. She took a picture of that too. The sphere's brilliant glow filled her vision as Riven's fingers, lines of black extending to the tips, connected to yellow veins of electric power along the surface of the sphere. The interaction scared and awed her in equal measure.

"These Origins… It's kind of scary. How many trainers have wished they could do the things pokemon can? When we see them fight so passionately and so hard for us while we stand there and do nothing. How many of us haven't dreamt of something like that? I know I did, when I was younger. I thought I could control trees like a grass type to make homes for the bugs. Sometimes I still do."

Hasei gave a little hum, still watching Riven. "Huh. Little brat Viola. I'd pay to see that. Did you still have those—" He gestured up towards the curls of hair that looked like antennae.

"No," She denied instantly. She self-consciously covered them with her hands. "That's not important! This sphere then, it can do all that?"

"At a price," Hasei affirmed. "Being able to remember your death can be traumatic. Some ways to go are more horrific than others. I think grass types have roots grow out of them, but I've never seen it myself. Heard it was… messy."

Viola flinched. Electrocution sounded like a terrible way to go. Then again, roots growing out of your skin was something out of nightmares. Or flames burning you alive. Being entombed in rock?

"It's a price anyone would pay, considering the alternative. Pain is temporary, mostly. Dangerous people want it for obvious reasons. It's life changing power in a palm sized marble. Anyone with a shred of power and influence would do anything to live a few more decades. A millennia would be a medical miracle the likes this world has never seen. All that and elemental powers is a sweet deal."

"A thousand years. That isn't a jest?"

"The strongest of us live that long," Riven explained, his eyes glowing a faint blue as he opened them. The black lines she'd seen on his fingers now extended up his neck in patterns that reminded Viola of circuits. There was a pattern to them, one that differed from those on the sphere, and one she thought was familiar but she couldn't quite place. The sight made her skin shiver, and not just because the circuits appeared a lot more like veins than tattoos. They faded quickly. "Not many reach that level, so it's more of an estimation of what could be rather than reality. Centuries plural is still more than one regardless. Just the time extension alone would be enough, not that the perks stop there."

Her mind nearly broke at the thought of being alive for that long. And seeing your friends and family die around you as they grew old and withered… She thought of her sister as her heart squeezed.

"Have you told anyone else?"

"Only Alder, and some of the UFO who've been extensively vetted. A few very close friends. You're the only gym leader that knows to our knowledge, anyway. Which brings up an important point. Alder only found out because Grimsley had an incident after we raided a smuggler's den that were trafficking these spheres for said dangerous groups. One of the higher ups in the operative force had to tell him. Bastard came into my gym with one of Caitlin's psychics and tried to turn me into paste to test a theory. I'm little more than a chained up dog they don't want to get too close to and don't want to admit it. Them allowing me to be a gym leader is the most interesting leash I've seen yet."

"Wait, did it work?"

"The leash or the paste?"

"Paste."

He gave her a flat stare. She regretted asking.

"Grimsley… That's why we didn't see him anywhere and nobody would say why," Viola said, shifting gears. "What happened to him?"

"Same thing that would've happened to you if you touched that thing," Hasei explained. "Doesn't affect Origins. Can't change an energetic body anymore. Grimsley's sphere was infused with a water type aspect, instead. The dying part isn't a joke, either. It affected him… badly. How does water usually kill people?"

Viola's face fell. "Oh."

Riven and Hasei explained the intricacies of the Origin dilemma compared to a pokemon, and the difficulty of restraint when drawing in more power than they could possibly hold, along with the unique mental issues artificial Origins faced after living their whole lives as regular people. Synthetics. Regular people who'd turned into Origins, like Grimsley. That left Viola suitably unsettled. "I can't imagine what remembering your death must be like. Or trying to remember what life was like before you could move rock, or fly, or whatever it is you can all do."

"From what I've been told, it's unfathomable. Your connection to your element is much deeper than any unpowered person can readily imagine. Not having it is like… ripping a part of your soul out. Unless you were born an Origin and ignored your powers for so long they atrophied, like me. Then it's not much different from an Unpowered, I guess. I spent a long time thinking I was just like the rest of you. Even then, my bloodline, typing, and unique situation forced my powers to catch up. In unhealthy ways." Riven gestured with his head up at Hasei. "Made an entire separate personality hellbent on taking over my body and advancing my element slowly and surely. Until a Legendary went and fixed us forcibly. It's a long story in a forgotten time."

"The split. Is that normal?"

"Not even remotely. I suspect that's why my people suppressed their powers. It's usually lethal. And they're all dead now, for somewhat unrelated reasons."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Viola didn't know whether to offer her condolences or stay quiet. She went with the latter. Riven peered out into the distance, swallowed roughly, and stared up again.

"Yeah, trauma is a problem. Especially for us. One big Sword of Damocles. As if there's not enough of those kicking around already. We're collecting the bloody things at this point."

Viola eyed both of them. "How do you even know all this? Did you read about it or something?"

"Heavens no, there isn't a book in existence old enough."

Stunned, she blinked.

"…How old are you?"

"Almost thirty," Riven replied.

"Then—"

"Biologically twenty nine-ish, chronologically half a million," Hasei said flatly. "We're older than your oldest history, technically. But we skipped everything in between, so we don't exactly know what happened between that point and now."

Viola gawked. "You're older than the pyramids! How do you even know this?"

"Time travel. Twice. And dealing with a lot of people that are vastly more intelligent than we are. We just tend to fight things and stumble into situations that spin vastly out of control. Somewhere along the way, we find things out and piece them together. One big, millenniums old puzzle. Still trying to piece together why the Nauer built a giant pokeball suddenly. Must've happened after we left, but why…?"

Viola mulled over what she could follow and tried to make sense of the utter ridiculousness that somehow looped around to making sense. She felt like she was in a complex delusion and had already lost her mind somewhere along the way. She was talking to a walking fossil and his clone, brother-thing. "Who are… what are you both here for? What are you searching for? I-I mean, you're looking for something, right?"

"Primarily a part of a key, the sister half to the part they were auctioning off in Kalos. The one that turned Prism Tower and Centrico Square into a mini warzone. We don't know what the key opens or does, necessarily—but we are extremely curious. Secondly, anything else related to us or of a certain significance. There are many locations accessible only to people like us, hidden through ancient technology, or under the earth or the seas."

The woman's eyes bulged as she caught his meaning. "Don't tell me Atlantis isn't a myth."

The two men remained unnaturally quiet. Almost guiltily quiet.

"Might be a flying city too…" Riven said, briefly searching for something in the clouds. "…That's invisible."

She waited for the joke. It never came.

"I-I Just… wow. That's both scary and amazing at the same time." The Kalosian leader now tussled fingers in her hair, thinking it over and getting progressively more worked up. "But if this is all about people with powers, then why everything else? Is there a reason all this chaos is going on at once?"

"Bad timing?" Riven offered somewhat in poor taste. "Some of the other issues might be a distraction by the hidden player in all this. A familiar one. They call themselves Singularity. They're ruthless for the most part, even employing Antoine Pollock and his ilk. For how long I'm not sure, but if they hired someone like him…"

He trailed off as Viola grimaced at the mention of the ranger turned poacher.

"We don't really know what Singularity's plans are, but we do know they like causing quite the clusterfuck to confuse and disorient the authorities, as you've seen in Centrico. That was them too, among other incidents in several other regions a few years back. They've been at this for years, but only recently have they begun to commit fully to one place. And thanks to this—" Riven tossed the sphere from hand to hand, "—we now know that they're trying to use mega evolution to charge the spheres. Guess the other avenues weren't working for them."

"Mega evolution? They can do that to power the spheres?"

"Oh, sure. There were some unethical studies done on the subject years ago, they made a lot of shocking discoveries—namely that mega evolution releases immense amounts of energy as a waste product. Aspected energy, the same used to charge these little glass spheres. Those studies were conducted in an underground portion near Mauville City, and only paper records were kept, both at location and by the people overseeing the project. One that involved something we both dealt with. Aberrancy as a means of achieving mega evolution without the need for keystones. Worked before everything went to shit. Who spearheaded the project?"

"Silph Co," Hasei finished, nearly snarling the name.

"The Silph?"

Riven nodded seriously.

"That one exactly. They had ties to mega evolution experiments before Wattson shut down their illegal activities. Nothing he could've proved in court, because going up against Silph in a courtroom is a death sentence. Their lawyers would eviscerate any cases brought up against them. Someone very powerful there gave Singularity this research, and I doubt anyone stole it. Silph also used to support the Rockets in their endeavors, and this is right up their alley. Energy research and human evolution, it's like their wet dream. All that points to is a very well-equipped adversary with lots of money, power, or influence."

"That's quite an enemy to pick a fight with."

"You're telling us. Now, I figure Singularity can power the spheres however they like, but they require a lot of power and something to concentrate an aspect to charge them. Who knows how many prototypes they've made that were outright failures. Outside of the modified elemental evolution stones, that's hard to do without causing disruptions. Those stones aren't very durable, either. Any lost elemental stones aren't easily replaced. Certainly explains why prices for the damn things have gone up so much in recent years. A friend advised us to look into that particular thing. You're an early circuit leader, you ever notice that?"

Viola vaguely recalled hearing something about that. Trainers were complaining about expensive evolution stones increasingly often as of late. Evee enthusiasts were in shambles. She hadn't thought much of it, but now she was rethinking some things. "What makes mega evolution stones different?"

"Well, they don't explode when a pokemon mega-evolves. Checks all their problems off; it's repeatable, doesn't harm the parties involved, and doesn't overwork traditional power lines, or cause causal and temporal anomalies. They really messed up that one time. Don't shoot energy beams at strange glowing stones, if you ever find yourself in that position."

"I doubt it. Should I know about that?"

"Oh boy, best not. Gruesome stuff."

Viola's face scrunched in disgust. She had a feeling there was a mountain of things they weren't telling her and she was too scatterbrained at the moment to ask for details.

Hasei focused on the sphere. "Is this recently fabricated, or a relic?"

"Recent," Riven confirmed. He held up the glowing sphere. "Certainly not ancient. Older ones were made of a different type of crystal-like glass. This thing's tougher than that, and the Nauer didn't have the methods to make glass that felt like this. Plastic based, you think? Feels kind of pliant."

"They're modifying the machine to fit their needs. That's not good. Tesla must've implanted the memory in there, practically handing you crucial information for nothing. Why would he do that?"

"Maybe he thought it would be funny. He's getting something out of this. He was planning for Viola to hand this over and grill us at the same time, but that earns him nothing at all. I'm guessing he likes screwing with me, or he's playing dimensional chess while we're holding our balls. Sphere wasn't fully charged enough to be a complete, thankfully, so it was likely a dud."

He tossed it to her casually. On instinct, she caught it and froze like she'd touched something cursed. A current of electricity strong enough to be very unpleasant but weak enough not to cause damage surged throughout her entire body for a moment as she felt her body flare up in response to the energy, the wave building and building until… it collapsed, and faded. She cupped the sphere in her unprotected hands and sputtered from the shock. She noticed she hadn't died and swallowed, still frozen in place. Riven motioned for the sphere back and she couldn't wait to toss it back. Riven took it back from her quickly. Her hands felt slightly numb.

"Well, fuck me," Hasei said, eyebrows raised. "She got lucky. Even flashed gold for a moment."

Viola began to sweat.

"The sphere tried to change her, but it wasn't charged enough to trigger the threshold for transformation. But Tesla probably knew she wasn't stupid enough to chance it, still made sure there was no risk to her, though. Guy accounted for everything. Smart bastard. This isn't a gift, it's a warning. A very pressing warning now, too. You think a psychic read the future for him?"

"Not possible. Our lines of fate are severed, even his. They'd go insane trying. Even more than usual. Sounds like bad luck and coincidence."

"Fate often looks exactly like that."

Hasei paused to think about that.

"I'm not really following this. Is Singularity Plasma bad or… Galactic bad?" Viola asked, still tingly. "You thought they were going to indiscriminately kill people with firearms last time. They didn't, though."

"They definitely don't seem nearly as psychotic as the Galactics, that's for sure. That isn't necessarily a good thing. A competent enemy knows when to limit casualties."

Her face fell.

"If anyone can both fund the Sayres, Antoine Pollock, and hire a group of superpowered mercenaries, then their morals and their values shouldn't be counted on to be the best of what humanity has to offer. And if they continue to keep making these spheres, the regions are going to have a huge problem on their hands. Right now, we're lucky they're still experimenting, but it won't be that way for long. I'd trust a kid with a pet dragon more than someone like Pollock with the ability to incinerate someone by flicking his wrist. One's easier to kill. Add their own pokemon in and they'd be very hard to stop before causing untold amounts of damage. And that's not counting the good old Sword of Damocles from earlier."

Viola sank into thought, resting her chin on a palm. "There aren't many trainers who have access to mega evolution stones, or keystones. The rest are kept locked away. They're the most restricted items in every region for a reason, not just in Hoenn or Kalos."

"Sure, that's a good argument. And you'd be right, normally. The problem with using mega evolution to make more Origin spheres was scarcity and most of the existing stones being locked down in special vaults impervious to psychic or ghostly influences, or in the hands of very powerful trainers, as you said. Not an easy score, even for shitheads like Pollock. Unfortunately, looks like that problem just got solved in the most inconvenient way possible."

"Solved? How?"

Hasei groaned with the same amount of enthusiasm as a man four times his age. Viola turned to him. The man began to prowl around the rooftop, teeth bared. He spotted her confusion and exhaled, continuing in a dry, tired tone that denoted lack of sleep or patience.

"Of course. The world's largest, most accessible batch of stones were created… hmmm, let's see, about two days ago. There's only about a dozen or so articles about the mysterious stones found around ground zero in Castelia. Guess what they could be. Won't take the brainiacs long."

"Wait, what?!" Viola exclaimed. "Those aren't—They're?!"

"Keystones come from people," Riven said, matter-of-factly. He pointed at her.

"They come from people like you. With no powers, just the tiniest traces of aspected typing within. Not much, but in balance. Every type, singing in harmony to not disturb the other. It's almost a wonder in itself. Producing a keystone is still rare, even for legendaries with all their power. Ideal conditions are about as difficult as they can get. Got to fatten up the subjects with energy before they pop, or the transformation doesn't complete. Possible in theory, nearly impossible in practice. Like swallowing a piece of charcoal and shitting out a diamond. Human bodies tend to die first when hit with that much energy so quickly. For so many to be created at once, the legendaries responsible would have to be mythical, and using a type of energy that didn't disintegrate whatever it touched. Not elemental or wholly physical. Out of all the known legendaries out there, only a few match that description. Those strong enough to crack the sky and tear the heavens and the earth apart."

Paling, Viola made herself breathe. "You knew. In the airship you—"

"Yeah," Riven admitted soberly. "I set that fire to the hotel. So people would leave. Some stuck around, I guess. You saw what happened to them. Apart from the stones, there were barely any traces of them left. Wrong place, wrong time."

"Why didn't you warn people?" Viola asked, tone hard.

"I tried. Anonymously. I don't know if the authorities took it seriously or not. I couldn't do more."

"You could have—"

"No! Should I have waved a cardboard sign about and yelled that the world was ending? You barely believed me, and that was with Tesla telling you some of it," Riven shot back sharply, then shook his head. "I didn't mean to yell." The blonde grimaced, knowing that he was right. Telling herself the same now, despite everything, made it sound insane. How would a regular person react?

Hasei paced impatiently back and forth.

"No use arguing the morality of it again. We've been through this already with someone else, remember? Without setting fire to that hotel that place would be a mass grave, littered with hundreds of the things. Some people died, yes, but damage control is done, and that's still too many stones than I'm comfortable with. Those aren't the only stones that are important. We're running out of time and our enemies are ahead of the curve. I would've liked to get some sleep, but I need to move. Is Efrain ready to go?"

Riven nodded, then tapped the ground with the edge of his metal tipped shoes. Efrain rose from beneath his shadow and floated over to Hasei. Riven produced a minimized pokeball from a secured pocket in his pants, not on his belt, and handed it over to his twin. "Good luck. And try not to die. He's all you're getting." He hesitated as he fumbled around in his pocket again, before handing Hasei a small, purple stone. Viola recognized what it was. Hasei held the stone in his palm, red eyes fixed on Riven.

"Why are you giving me this? I thought—he's your pokemon. Shouldn't this be your moment? Trainers care about that sort of thing, don't they?"

Riven smiled sadly.

"He's too recognizable as a shiny anyway. If I had him, he'll just spend time in my shadow, sulking from boredom. He lives to slash assholes in half, and he's starting to get twitchy, it's kind of annoying." The ghost whipped one of its sashes over and tried to smack Riven, who deftly dodged out of the way. "You deal with him for a change. I can live without seeing him evolve, as much as I'd like to see it. Wield him well."

"I'll try," Hasei said solemnly, staring at the stone. "This might just kill me and Efrain, you know. A short lived blessing. Then you'll be down a teammate."

"And an ally. If Nera kills you before the Swords do, I'll be very disappointed. At least with the second you can say you fought some real monsters. Makes the death cooler."

"Yeah, maybe someone will write a story about it." Hasei clipped the pokeball to his belt, pocketed the stone, and turned to Viola, who stared at them, bewildered.

"Wait. Swords—as in the Swords of Justice? Aren't those—you're going off to go fight legendary pokemon? Four of them? With one Doublade? That's suicide! They've beaten back armies!"

"Legends are grossly overexaggerated. And suicide? Hmmm. Told me something similar several years ago, remember?" The man shrugged casually as Viola realized now that Prime had deliberately fought a Pangoro with a sharpened plank of metal without abilities. He'd almost died. Her mouth dropped open. Hasei smiled wryly, then shot a glare at Riven. "Don't let one of those little psychopaths near her. She's our responsibility now."

"Ours? Huh. Think he likes you, Viols." Riven teased. "Normally, he wouldn't care if someone got hit by a bus the next morning."

"Then I'm glad I look both ways before I cross the road." She shot him a frigid glance. "Viols is not my name, Nathan. We're not friends."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright. But before you go, quick question—Hasei, Viola—do any of you two, by any chance, know how to dispose of a device of uh… explosive nature?"

There was a point to this, and Viola was beginning to suspect she wouldn't like it. Hasei exchanged a glance with her, growing more alarmed as Riven's eyes twinkled. Green and red eyes stared as Riven began to whistle, tossing the Origin sphere up and down in his hands. They tracked it with their gazes, the discomfort growing visibly. He cracked a beaming smile, which frankly unsettled them further.

"Defuse it?" Viola suggested finally. "What else would you do with a bomb? Can you put that down?"

Riven glanced back down at the oversized marble and wrinkled his nose. Then he started juggling it again. "Should've clarified. What's the best way to get rid of a bomb you don't want anyone to find? Possibly ever. The most surefire way. A way that nobody would possibly be able to—"

"Set it off?" Hasei put in without thinking. Regret materialized on his face instantly as Riven made a flourish and caught the sphere. "Wait… you're not trying to—"

"Aha! You're a genius!"

Hasei's curiosity shriveled and died. "Oh no…"

Viola backed away a little. "He's not going to—"

"Yeah, he is. You should probably step back, stupidity is contagious in large doses. And it's very concentrated right now."

With a surge of black and blue energy, Riven closed his fist around the sphere and squeezed, cracking and splintering its surface with sharp claws made of darkness.

A trickle of power came at first, then a spiderweb of light as more and more electrical energy spilled forth from the widening cracks. Had the sphere been made of regular glass, it probably would have shattered and killed them all by now. Riven's eyes bulged as soon as he realized that the sphere had more energy than he anticipated, because he was now holding a very bright and crackling ball of unstable energy that was growing increasingly more energetic. It was starting to numb his hands even as darkness formed a protective glove of what seemed like padded material over his hand. He looked to the other two, beginning to sweat.

"Uhhhh, it's really starting to tingle!"

Light emitted from the sphere like a miniature sun.

"You're a moron. Get rid of it!" Hasei shouted, holding out a hand. Dark energy blasted out of his hand and surrounded the sphere. The light suddenly dimmed in Riven's hand… and took a second for the glowing ball of electric death to begin shining again. Darkness continued to wrap and layer over it as Riven joined his power to his twin's.

Another burst of electricity arced out as the sphere threatened to burst, breaking through a layer of black glass before immediately being held in place as the dark cocoon further solidified in a struggle of dark and light. At this rate, it was going to explode and take most of the roof with it.

"Throw it into the air!" Viola said, panic in her voice. "Anything, just get rid of it!"

Aine and Efrain joined in also, the Blaziken waving her claws around and pointing at the empty air. Efrain had resorted to shouting into Riven's mind instead. By then, the yelling was unintelligible and Riven lost control of any logical thought as the fun ball of death's glow increased through the dark cocoon.

"Shit!" Out of options, he flung it over to Aine. "Send this thing to the moon!"

Aine reacted instantly, her powerful legs exploding off the ground in a stream of fire as she kicked the dark wrapped sphere like a football with a blow so strong it sent the unstable ball of energy flying hundreds of feet away with a crack like a cannon blast. Flying up and away, far from their position and any adjacent buildings, it traveled like a tiny, yellow comet. It flashed once as the dark outer shell eroded, then detonated.

That little marble of potential exploded, bursting like a yellow-white sun over the Nimbasan nightscape and causing the lights below to flicker momentarily as the electric burst interfered with the local power lines. Efrain quickly formed a purple barrier in front of them, hair and feathers frizzling as most of the harmful energy was dispersed by the Doublade's Protect. A sharp scent of ozone carried on the wind. Breathing a sigh of relief, Viola fell onto the floor. Riven whistled, impressed.

"Hah! I'd say that went quite well. Not even a scratch!"

He looked entirely too pleased with himself, brushing off his clothes with his hands.

"You nearly blew yourself up. And us!" Viola said, incredulous. She whirled on Hasei. "You're based off his brain?"

Hasei's eye twitched. "Yes, unfortunately. This is him… saner, if you can believe it. I was his stabilizing side, after all. He's the one that came up with the stupid idea, I'm the one that got us out of them, often with lots of violence. And that was with a teenager's psychotic personality slice." He gave Viola a sympathetic look while she looked horrified, left to the proverbial wolves. "It is exactly as messed up as you think. I'm truly sorry for the next few weeks. You have my condolences should he do something moronic again, which is a question of when not if. Now, I'm getting the fuck away from here before he finds something else to explode."

He beckoned to the ghost next to Aine. Even it seemed to want to leave as soon as possible, because rather than float over, a crimson blade shot straight up into the night sky. A second later, Hasei disappeared like he'd been deleted from existence. Riven and Viola were left looking skyward, watching as Hasei appeared much farther above them and hurled a blade forward, vanishing once again.

Viola had lost sight of him, but it seemed that Riven was still tracking him. She wondered how good his eyesight in the darkness was, compared to her abysmal one. "Watching it happen from a different perspective makes it look even more insane than it really is. Can you believe that? It's like a mad bastard's slingshot," he said, impressed. "Look at him go!"

"That's because only a madman would think to travel like that," Viola replied, shivering from the night air. She really was tired. "Aren't people going to notice a literal electric bomb went off above the city?"

He waved a dismissive hand, now squinting into the darkness. "Eh, it's Nimbasa. They'll probably think it was a bunch of drunk assholes on a rooftop with a bundle of fireworks, a defective microwave, and nothing to lose. Happens a lot, trust me. Especially around the penthouses. People are strange."

She wanted to make a comment about people living in glass houses, or pots and kettles, but she had a feeling that it would be lost on someone like him.

"They'd be right, only it's just a singular one that hasn't had a drop of alcohol," Viola grumbled instead, unamused. She still wasn't sure if he was messing with her about that. Unovans didn't really do that, did they? "How long have you been in Unova again?"

"Less than a year. Unova is crazy!"

"No, you're crazy. If I see you in Santalune, I'm kicking you out with the biggest Scyther swarm I can find. Someone else can deal with you."

"Using someone's traumatic experiences against them is a bit… dark, you know. You've changed since Centrico. But I'm flattered you remembered."

"A few days ago I couldn't so much as recall your voice as Prime's, much less remember that. All of this is insane."

Riven shrugged. "I think it's quite normal, actually. For me, anyway. Amnesia's still on the table if you want it. Simplicity is less stressful. You can just go back to taking pictures of things and neglecting to be in your gym as usual and never have to worry about this again. At least until a blonde asshole with a Bisharp corners you in yet another dubious location. Then you'll remember it all again and it'll be quite awkward when we have this discussion the second time around. Then I'll get to say, ' I told you so.'"

He paused.

"Say, were you really about to go take a stroll naked through the neighborhood when it's this cold out?"

"I was angry enough to consider it and spiteful enough to let it ruin you."

"Did I deserve that, though?"

"Yes," Viola said flatly as she tightened her grip on her camera. "Doubly so because I'm stuck with you until the Challenger Rush ends."

He gave a small grin. "Oh, it's not that bad. Hasei is blowing things out of proportion, I only seldom destroy objects of considerably unstable power. Couldn't leave the sphere laying around, could I?"

"So, your logical solution was to blow it up. Not throw it in a metal box and drop it into the ocean, or bury it in a random location no one would ever look for?" He had to pause. Then he shrugged. Viola shook her head. "I think I like Nathan much better than your actual personality, Riven. He seems to have more restraint, go back to that."

"Alder wants me to be. I have to be diplomatic and somewhat amiable. It's really tiring, like wearing something formal. It's so… stuffy. Besides, you wanted in on the secrets so you get to deal with me now. I don't think I have to tell you this, but for caution's sake, in public we still have to pretend we haven't known each other long nor are discussing a world changing secret. We can talk about… bugs and forests and… uh… uh—"

"Way to hold in your excitement, you're practically bouncing off the walls there." He made it sound like he'd rather nosedive off the building than do that. "Has anyone ever told you that talking to you is both a frustrating and stressful experience?"

"Yes, many times. We should get going. We got what we came for and my handoff to Hasei is done, so let's go get some rest before the next disaster decides to rear its ugly head. Or Sela wakes up and notices us gone. Even worse if we walk in together, that'd be infinitely harder to explain without stating the more believable lie."

"What lie would that be?"

He arched an eyebrow for a moment and she went red, suddenly understanding. Nimbasa had a… reputation for all things entertainment. All things.

"We should go," she agreed quickly, nearly throwing open the door back down from the roof.

They made their way down stairs, until a thought crossed her mind and curiosity got the better of her. She yanked him to a stop mid step. "How come Tesla is convinced you're the same person? Why wouldn't he know that? The way you both act is pretty distinct."

"Hasei and I can interchange if needed, and Prime's a mercenary first and foremost. They tend to be good liars. Tesla expects a certain level of bullshit from me, he just doesn't know the extent of how powerful my bullshit is this time. If I hadn't lived it, I'd be questioning my own sanity. Which doesn't count for much, actually." He rubbed his chin, eyeing her. "Are we really that different at this point, though? Him and I?"

"Not when you're both serious, like you were down in the alley. Then you felt the same. Like Prime did in the forest with those rangers. If anything, you're the outlier. Sometimes you're just aggravating. And I don't know if it's a cover for what you're really capable of."

"Both, I suppose? Prime is supposed to be more visceral and broody, casually serious and deadly is his thing… sort of. Can't be like that as a gym leader, and I prefer the lighter side these days, more outright jokes and the like. It's a… way to deal with things, you know? Which one do you prefer, me or him? Out of pure curiosity and not at all my ego."

"Him," she said instantly. Riven frowned. "He hasn't indirectly tried to kill me with a magic exploding ball. Yet. And he makes pretty moving statues. You don't."

"I hate to admit it, but fair point. Another reason Tesla wouldn't know is simple; Hasei and I being apart is, technically, a recent development. As far as the timeline in this era. Time travel is twisty. Very, very few people know that as of yet, and you're one of them now. You are now sworn and privy to my deepest and darkest secrets."

He bowed theatrically.

"That's not even close to the truth, is it?"

A finger rose in the air and pointed at her, his head still bowed.

"Not even remotely."

She started to really consider that amnesia, maybe just to forget ever knowing who Riven was so she could only deal with Nathan the slightly more professional gym leader instead. Her image of him was thoroughly ruined. She knew he did this deliberately, and she had no idea whether to call him Riven or Nathan. She stuck with what she knew. Another thought hit her a minute after they started walking again and she stopped Riven once again, this time pulling his arm back and sending him jerking backward.

"Can you please stop doing that?" He hissed.

She waited until he tried stepping forward to do it again.

"Damnit—"

"That woman in your home! The one you claimed to be your ex-girlfriend? You said that she magically waves her hands and its like metal obeys her. You weren't just making an idle joke!"

His face betrayed nothing, but his tone did him in. He moved his arms away from her. "Could be."

"No, I'm right, I know it. You blamed Baron for the fight, but a battle between pokemon would've trashed your place, they don't care for collateral damage. People do. She's like you. That's why she was bleeding! You two fought, not your pokemon! We thought those bangs were your pokemon testing each other."

Riven held up a hand, the edges of his nails glinting off the light. Small black blades had formed on the tips. "Little trick of mine. Doubt it'll work twice on her. Tell me, how surprised was she? Shocked, arms shaking, knees buckling, breath heaving?"

"I don't know about the rest but surprised? Yeah, she kept staring at her wrist like she'd never been cut before." Her green eyes went wide and she started jumping in place. "Oh my god. Her skin was smooth! Too smooth, not like skin but like—"

"—Polished metal? Yeah, Steel type. She can harden or soften her skin at will," Riven acknowledged. He held up a hand. "Think we got lucky and she grew complacent—forgot about how hands can tell a story too. But man, believe me when I say that punching her is like smashing your fist into a wall. It sucks. I only wish I could be you to see the look on her face after realizing I pierced her skin. Better yet, why didn't you take a picture? Oh, it would have been sweet, sweet vengeance. She gets off on tormenting me, you see. Until now, this is the only win I've gotten, and I'm going to relish it. I'd like to get it in photo form so I can look at it every morning and smile."

"Vengeance for your yogurt?"

"She's a demon."

Viola shook her head. Humor faded instantly as the man went serious, the cold wariness returning briefly.

"She's dangerous, Viola. I didn't want the other leaders involved for a reason. So I'm warning you. Keep your head on a swivel and your pokeballs in reach, but pretend like you know her for what she said she was, an ex-girlfriend of mine and no more. She knows that Tesla talked to you, she doesn't know that you know her yet. And if Tesla comes back to check on you… try not to get cornered in any more restrooms. Not without someone close by. Stick with Sela or Flannery at all times if possible."

Viola crossed her arms. "Why are they working with you at all? Tesla and Aveena? Aren't they your—the gym leaders' enemies? Why talk with you or me? They can't fight all our pokemon if we choose to fight them head on. What if we decided to rally the leaders up and take the fight to them? The Unovan leaders would be all for it."

"If things go badly, sure," Riven said, half to himself. "But I don't want to burn bridges yet. They're my only link to Singularity and I have my own reasons for working with them, since they seem to have goals independent of their organizations. We're using each other, and that's fine with me, as long as everyone else is left out of it."

She accepted that answer, but something bothered her. "The crowd. That wasn't a psychic, was it?"

Riven closed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

"No. Origins have abilities just like pokemon. Ours are… different. What I did back there was irresponsible. Emotions that are already present are easier to push forward. In a crowd like that... It was easy to begin, not as easy to handle. When I say that Origins are dangerous, I'm not joking."

He struggled with himself.

"Viola… the reason I'm trusting you with this is that Tesla didn't really give you a choice and your mind has been tampered with enough. I know better than most how intrusive psychics can be—how it leaves you feeling. It's not a good one. I gave you options, and you chose to give up ignorance. All choices have consequences you have to live with, and I'm trusting you not to stab me in the back so I don't have to make Baron do what neither of us want and possibly cause you irreparable mental damage."

"I thought he didn't know how to do that?"

"He doesn't. But he can learn."

Viola edged backward a step as Riven's eyes focused on her, pinning her in place with a weight that felt almost physical. It was a gaze that didn't belong on such a youthful face, neither the promise of danger or the solemn weight of long, heavy years.

"Show me. What you did. Just for a second. I want to recognize it in case it happens again."

"What? Are you- are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You understand what you're asking me?"

"Merde! I said yes, didn't I?"

Somewhat surprised, he let go of his apprehension, noting that Viola wasn't playing around either. "Okay. Prepare yourself."

He breathed in, held it, and when he opened his eyes, the light in the hallway dimmed. Something in Viola's stomach dropped.

A dreadful darkness clouded the blue of his eyes with a severity that was so palpable that she could feel it like a spear piercing her soul. It invaded every part of her body, like a thousand needles of ice stabbing into her skin. She thought back to what had happened outside the gym, swallowing the lump in her throat and fighting against the fear that screamed at her to get away from him.

"Stop it," she ground out, meeting his eyes. "That's enough!"

He blinked, and the weight of his gaze cut off. That horrible dread disappeared suddenly, leaving Viola winded and confused. Sweat poured down her face. "That doesn't feel anything like a psychic. It's horrible."

"I agree," he said soberly, shaking his head. "I can amplify negative emotions. Hasei can take them away. If you feel this happening again, hit me. Hard enough that I can feel it. I can't control this in large groups or when I get emotional. So... Maybe having someone watch my back when my pokemon are busy can be a good thing. My friends usually keep me in line, but they can't be around me for their safety, or Charaph will target them too. If someone else notices and my cover gets blown, I'm done. Nathan Ethne keeps Riven Cerul safe. But it's a thin shield. Since you know, can you do that?"

"Yes," she said unsteadily. She straightened and held out a hand. "As long as there's no amnesia involved, and I never have to feel that again, I'll keep my mouth shut. I realize the danger, and I… I don't want to be left in the dark anymore. What happened in Lumiose can't happen again. One more thing, no more setting off bombs on any rooftops I'm standing on, either."

Riven looked above her head for a moment, then nodded, his severe expression falling away with a steady smile. The jovial mask had returned, and Viola breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Deal. Since we're friends now—" She corrected that immediately, which he promptly ignored—"I may need some favors back in Kalos soon. That sundial in Anistar needs further study. Or maybe I'll just tell Hasei to bug you. He needs some more friends, and Santalune is such a beautiful city to visit a friend. He could just emerge from your shadow and—"

"I don't know what happened to you in the head, but how about both of you stay out of my country? And definitely stay out my shadow or I'll find another Aberrant pokemon and hand you a stick to fight it instead," she warned. He flicked a tentative glance down towards her shadow. Then another. She hesitated for a second, then fell for it.

She let out a frustrated groan.

"Just keeping you on your toes. Make a habit of it, could be a Gengar in there watching you sleep." He eyed the walls suspiciously. "Can never be too careful. Not these days."

She held up a finger. "Keep that Doublade out of my shadow, I'll have Morty check."

A tiny smile made its way up his lips as he strode away, careful to be out of arm's reach. "It's not my ghost you'll have to watch out for. Now, let's sneak back into the house and get some sleep, you look like you're about to fall over."

---

An insistent shaking jolted Viola awake, her bleary eyes focusing on a mass of red that looked roughly like Flannery. She deduced she'd slept in longer than she should have, because she looked like the roughest part of a Braviary's nest. She had passed out almost immediately after Nathan's Gallade had dumped her into her bed. If she hadn't been absolutely exhausted, she would have had her suspicions that the Gallade had used some sort of Hypnosis. Getting presentable took longer than the previous morning had, and she sauntered over to the coffee maker in a zombie like trance. She didn't register that Morty had watched her nearly spill the liquid onto the counter.

"Rough, err—rougher night?" He asked, subtly rectifying her grip. She still hadn't noticed. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah. My brain kept me up longer than it should have. Hey, Morty… Do you ever think reality is weirder than your dreams?"

Morty thought about that, keeping an eye on the coffee pot in case she dropped that instead. He gingerly took it from her. "As of late? Definitely. Why do you ask?"

She took a sip from her mug after blowing on it. "Because my dreams are starting to make a lot more sense than when I'm awake. Castelia doesn't even look real anymore, it's like a place someone actually dreamt up instead." She didn't even want to begin with what had happened last night.

The Johtoan accepted that with a slight nod. "You woke up fairly late, I take it you haven't heard. It's on every news channel around the world."

"Heard of what? Something else didn't happen, did it?" Her heart began to beat faster, thudding in her chest. "It wasn't the moon, was it?"

After the previous night, she had briefly dreamt of a moon with Nathan's cackling face on it falling out of the sky. It was still terrifying.

"No, no. The moon is still there," Morty said, chuckling. "I mean what the report from the UFO had to say about those strange rocks in Castelia everyone and their neighbor photographed." Viola's panic turned to ice as Riven and Hasei's words came back to crash into her chest. "Apparently, they were mega evolution and key stones. All of them. Everyone's going nuts about them and people are flooding into Castelia to try and snag some. Operatives scoured the place clean, though, so who knows what will happen to the things. Professor Sycamore from Lumiose City and other important scientists are coming too, Unova's about to get busier than ever. Have you ever met the man, since you're from Kalos? I tried to ask Nathan but he was less than helpful."

"That certainly sounds like him," Viola muttered. She gave Morty an apologetic smile. "Sycamore… I can't say I've talked to him much, he's always so busy with his work and I mostly keep to Santalune and the forest. Pokemon research is beyond me, sorry."

"Ah, would Clemont know better?"

"Probably, but good luck getting him to stay on subject."

"I keep hearing that. Hmm. Well, I'll leave you to it. Enjoy the coffee." As he took his exit, Viola exhaled nervously, spacing out. She didn't notice when Nathan had sauntered over and curiously inspected her mug.

"Straight black? Wow," he said. "I'm going to assume that's my fault. You only bring that out when you're really frazzled." She held herself back from jumping. He hadn't made a sound!

"How did you get here?"

"A mystical gateway between solid matter, known as a door. Can't quite yet walk through walls, unfortunately."

She resisted the urge to smash her mug on his head. That'd be a waste of perfectly good coffee. "Sycamore's heading over. You were right," Viola admitted instead, returning to her drink pointedly. None of it had spilled when she jumped, impressing herself.

"Bound to happen. People catch on quick, especially when the pictures get plastered all over the internet. Someone was going to notice the chunks for what they were. I think he personally got called over, no one knows mega evolution like him, after all. Probably going to run one of Caitlin's psychics ragged to teleport him all the way over here."

"What's going to happen to the stones?" She asked. Nathan leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

"A power grab. That's what the things are. Power. Some of the people that were reported missing weren't locals; that means those megastones might belong to pokemon who've never been reported to possess a mega evolution. The other regions might angle to get some of those stones. That might take a while, and I suspect they'll keep the things locked up somewhere in Black City. It's got the most technologically safe vaults in Unova. I'd say even the world. Or I might be wrong and they take them somewhere completely different."

"Black City… That's Unova's famous dark city. Always looked kind of dystopian in the travel brochures."

"It's a wonder at night and in the day. Comes across as ominous with the darkness, lights, futuristic aesthetic. Daytime looks bright and vibrant, representing the hope of the future. Amazing place for the most part but some real snobs live there, as expected. That means you get the best of both worlds. A city ripe with opportunists and ambition. Someone's going to want in on that cash prize, and they'll risk the UFO's wrath to do it. It's easy to disappear in a place like that, not like Castelia or Nimbasa. Less open. Dark. Lots of nooks and holes to disappear in."

She swirled the liquid around a bit more, mulling that over. "You're not going to do anything about that? That's your forte isn't it? Dark alleyways. You seem to love them."

"No more than your bug filled forests." Nathan fixated on a clock on the far wall, exhaling deeply. "No, I can't do anything. It's not even a question of if. I can't teleport. Wouldn't make it there and back in time without someone getting suspicious. Need to stay put."

"That really bothers you, doesn't it?"

"Yes. It's a lazy man's worst nightmare, the opportunity for instant travel kept cruelly out of reach," he said, clicking his tongue. "Regrettably… we'll just have to believe in the operatives. That makes me hate not being able to teleport even more. Curse you, cruel world!"

He raised a fist toward the ceiling.

Worry wormed its way into Viola's heart. "What happens if they get to those stones?"

"Immediately? Nothing. Later… well, who knows? Their research will accelerate, and then we might have more Origins walking around and wreaking havoc in the worst way possible. Or not. Maybe they won't even try it, or the UFO tear them to pieces. Hard to know the future. Best we can do is keep preparing for the Challenger Rush to salvage this whole thing. Reminds me of something, though. You might want to check your phone. I wheedled Flannery to give up your number for 'emergency purposes'. Well, I did that for everyone, for legitimate safety purposes. The next message you receive from an unknown number, don't block it."

Viola was still processing, absently sipping her coffee while staring off into space. It took her a minute before she realized what he'd said.

"Did you—"

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she immediately took it out, wanting to actually throw her coffee at Nathan this time, but he'd already left, waving at her as he passed through the doorframe. On the main screen, a message remained unopened. It was from a number she didn't recognize and was in the form of an image. Warily, she opened it, expecting something… well, she wasn't quite sure what to expect.

It was a photo of a dark, crystalline Vivillion flying against the backdrop of dawn in a forest of snowcapped trees. There was a caption at the bottom, and she could almost hear the grumpiness in it.

This gave me a headache. You know who this is. Save the contact # as Henry La'cour. Save the picture too, it's pretty.

Considerably less annoyed, she did as instructed, privately reminding herself to enjoy the little things, or she was going to end up like Nathan soon.

Then the knowledge of the previous night's events circulated through her mind over and over, until it was the only thing she could think about.

Origins…

Holding out a hand, she imagined the powers of the elements shooting forth in a surge of fire, then lightning, then freezing ice and several more permutations of power until she brought her hand back to her chest, curling it into a fist. What was once a dream was now a reality, a possibility.

Rather than excitement, she felt dread. Because this wasn't a child's tale. People would kill for this, and she'd chosen not to forget. One more thing to add onto the pile of worry.

Fighting side by side with pokemon… as equals. Having abilities that could influence the minds of others, or better harness lightning from the skies... The trainer in her marveled at the idea, but the gym leader, and more importantly, the adult in her gave her pause. It was a reality that had shattered humanity and civilization itself before, according to Riven and Hasei. After the events of Sinnoh and all the teams before them, after Castelia... how would the world react? How would training itself change? Nathan and others like him were right to be cautious.

The question hung in her mind, knowing full well that it was too late to back out now. Whatever happened, she was part of the madhouse now. For better or worse.

---

In a breeder's complex in Black City, Steven read the headlines about the discovery of the mega stones with stoicism so perfect he'd make a boulder proud. Inside, however, his guts seemed to be trying to twist themselves into pretzels. He sat on a bench with two Emolga by his side, who happily munched on berries he kept taking out of his coat pocket.

He stared at the bead of shimmering rainbow light on his metal cuff, grimacing for a moment before looking up.

Ahead he saw a younger female intern, and both Seisora and Inari standing in front of multiple baby pokemon crowded around them in a circle. He could see that the pokemon were trying their best not to squirm or get distracted. Birch stood beside the bench, an amused grin on his face. Steven didn't understand how the man was able to wear flip-flops at all, the air outside was absolutely chilling. He did have a pair of fuzzy socks with cartoonishly drawn Meowths on them, at least.

"And you are certain there are no water Charizard? I understand they evolve from Charmander. Do you have water Charmander?" Seisora loomed over the smaller girl, his grave expression and broad frame didn't really help the ridiculousness of his question. He looked insane.

The poor intern, thrown off by what looked like two fully grown twenty something adults trying to start their pokemon journey for the first time, sighed heavily for the twentieth time that night. "I'm one hundred percent sure that no water Charmander have or will ever exist, sir. We have plenty of other water starters, though. Samurott are just as cool as a Charizard and they're a Unovan staple! Or maybe you'd like a new addition from Galar? Having a Sobble available is an incredible opportunity! He just has a bit of a personality compared to the other water pokemon. I-if that's okay, of course. Maybe another type?"

"No. Water only."

"A monotype trainer, then? Um… o-okay."

She smiled at him, nervously pointing out the amphibious lizard on the ground. Seisora, displeased by the knowledge that Charmanders didn't come in the flavor he liked, turned to lock eyes with the Galarian pokemon. Big round eyes stared up at him impassively, as if the Sobble couldn't wait to be done with this. They weren't the cutest or the most impressive looking pokemon, and Seisora definitely thought that from the curl of disdain on his lip. Steven wondered if the man had any idea just how intimidating Inteleon could actually be, once a trainer got past the primary evolution hurdle. In past wars they were used as the deadliest of snipers, if they could be controlled at all. The ones that were had made their mark in history with blood.

He, like Steven had anticipated, had voiced his concerns out loud and the Sobble responded by shooting a water gun at him. Steven sucked in a breath. The water gun, of course, had redirected back into the Sobble's own face instead. Seisora had pretended to be bewildered, wondering how in the world that had happened, questioning if the intern was messing with him. She fervently denied it because now the large man was looming even more ominously above her. The Sobble was so surprised it froze for a moment, and attempted again, only for the same result. The intern at this point, looked just as puzzled as the pokemon, making sputtering sounds as she tried to figure out what in the world was going on.

Steven shifted in his seat, turning his attention to the other Origin he was in charge of.

Inari had been much less dramatic, choosing a playful Fennekin immediately after it had trotted up to her and nuzzled her shins. Her original idea was to become a dignified and respectable trainer like the adult she was, compared to the other children they'd seen fawning over all the cute starters. She had voiced this aloud.

Steven had guessed she would fold like a paper house in a hurricane. The pokemon sensed this, because it took precisely one kicked Growlithe look.

Then again, Inari had wanted to take all the baby fire pokemon she saw, deeming them all too adorable for words judging by the troubled look on her face as all manner of cries had been presented before her. She was slightly disappointed there were no Charmander around. Or Torchics. That was Aine's influence, no doubt. It didn't last long.

Steven found it increasingly hard to believe that the normally taciturn woman he was briefly used to seeing was the Inari he was seeing now. Any sense of propriety or dignity were obliterated by the onslaught of cute, fuzzy baby pokemon.

Birch watched Inari fuss over the small fox like a teenager and couldn't help but laugh. "You know, Steven, I knew that something incredible must've happened to have Meta cross an entire ocean to come get me as soon as possible. This was not what I expected. It's hard to believe the two are older than I am. They should be complaining about back pain at their age. Riven was difficult but he acted his age, at the very least. Less disconcerting."

"That's because he was seventeen at the time. Origin lifespans are something else, but the attitude of the teenage years are pretty much universal," Steven observed. The Emolgas were now sniffing closer to his coat pocket. "I have to make sure the two of them don't run off and get themselves into trouble. One misadventure would mean bodies, and that's just with their abilities alone. Giving them pokemon is giving me nerves. Like handing children dynamite… If I gave them the boot and said, 'go on an adventure', the world might break apart. Apparently, time displaced persons naturally attract problems regular people don't. Harbingers of the end is a bit embellishing, but it's not wrong..."

"Psychics like to embellish their prophecies! That's half the fun, I assume. At least if I had precognition I'd do it all the time. Still, there's nothing wrong with a little freedom," Birch put in. "Worked well the last time I did it, didn't it?"

Steven stared.

The last person Birch had done that for had been Riven. A man who had recently been the cause of the sky tearing open and drawing the attention of the entire world. That wasn't entirely fair to him, because part of that had been Steven's own carelessness and the whim of a deranged legendary, but the point still stood. And there was an incredibly powerful half legendary half supercomputer somewhere in the world, holding an unstable stone of incalculable power that could potentially end the world. And there were pieces of it that were themselves incredible repositories of power scattered around the four corners also. One which had already caused a metaphysical accident.

It did wonders for his nerves.

"Okay, maybe not the best example," Birch admitted, scratching his beard and chuckling. "But you can't keep two adults like them chained to you with a safety leash. And they're supposed to be married. They need privacy too, they're still young and good-looking. Can't have father Stone watching over them all the time."

That made Steven feel old. He knew he had inherited an unfortunate hair color but that was a bit much. He was only in his thirties and his charges were twice his age while looking just as young as he did. Unsettling was a word for it alright.

"Easy to say when you don't have to break up their verbal spats, and there are many. Meta is getting tired of playing mediator, and Bisun is too big and bulky for the city streets. I'm also fairly recognizable, to my detriment. More so here than in Kalos."

"And you want to present them to Alder like this to help Grimsley? Is that a good idea?"

"Good idea? No. I don't have much of a choice, unfortunately. They need a temporary… training license. I'm sure Alder can pull some strings. That way they can at least access the centers and integrate into society easier. An oddball trainer isn't looked at so strangely, compared to a regular citizen. I don't want them turning to seedier avenues to get by. There's already enough Origins in the mercenary trade, we don't need any more."

Birch stroked his beard. "Hmmmm. No ID or proof of birth. Tough situation for time travelers. Explains the natural attraction to crime and sellsword work in the past. I can't get them trainer cards with no prior ID anymore. Since Sinnoh's fallout and the reemergence of the Sayres, they don't allow us to do that. There's far more checks than there used to be. Regional security numbers must be tied to new trainer IDs. The Hoenn League would grill me like a steak if I tried. I'm sorry, Steven."

"I know. I don't want a repeat of what happened to Riven, but that's not what I brought you here for. Just being here for the recommendation was enough, but a few pointers for them wouldn't hurt. Apparently, pokemon and humans didn't mix in their world much. I assume you also wouldn't want to miss the greatest phenomena in modern history either. Meta can take you to Castelia tomorrow while I take care of the overgrown kids."

Birch's eyes bulged in excitement. "Castelia is going to be a scientific goldmine for the next decade! And I get to see some of my favorite colleagues! I heard Sycamore's on his way because of the megastones. He'll have to revise his thesis about the formation of the stones for sure. It's all so exciting, I can't wait for his next address. I might just stick around for the Challenger Rush, too. Assuming it doesn't end up an unexpected bloodbath."

Birch was too nonchalant about that. Steven smiled placidly, still expecting the worst, but Birch's excitement was infectious. It lifted his mood a little. The Professor grew more pensive as he observed Seisora stiffly pick up a dripping Sobble like a particularly distasteful statue.

"I do wonder, though, how more experienced Origins and pokemon of the same type will grow as a trainer pair compared to someone like Riven. They might not even need TMs! They can teach the pokemon themselves! Everything is becoming a fascinating new avenue of scientific exploration. I may have to branch out in specialty now."

"You and the world over if the truth about Origins ever gets out," Steven said. "Until then, we'll have to keep up this charade."

"Oh! You mentioned something about power amplifying armor! Did you take the suits to a safe location already?"

Steven nodded. "They're in safe hands. With luck, we can analyze the structures and then lock the suits away so they'll never see the light of day again. Maybe some day we can come back to it, but right now I don't want Singularity to get their hands on even of a whiff of this. I'll send you the findings when we have them."

Birch's eyes practically sparkled. Steven felt something rifling through his coat pocket and pulled on the ball of fur that was trying to steal the rest of his berries. It was too late. The Emolga's head emerged from his pocket with cheeks bursting with berry juice, and flew off. Its sibling followed it, complaining loudly. When he looked up, Inari and Seisora had walked over to the bench, the both of them holding their new starters and glaring at one another. The Fennekin in Inari's arms was trying to reach out and stretch the Sobble's cheeks with her paws. It blew bubbles at her.

"We have our starter pokemon," Inari announced, practically bouncing in place. "What do we do now? I was told by the young lady over there that adults do not usually start their journeys so late. Is it shameful to do so?"

Birch thrust his hands out, waving animatedly. "No, no! It's not shameful to go on a journey so late, but… it is unusual. You may get made fun of, but you're both mature, sensible adults that certainly won't mind some ribbing from small, possibly irritating children. What you should worry about instead is that basic trainer needs might be difficult to acquire for both of you. Checking in to a center and enjoying the benefits trainers have access to will be all but impossible. So, until we get that sorted, you both might have to train with Steven and I for a little longer. Don't look so sad, training with a former Champion and a pokemon professor is an honor. Your pokemon will grow faster than trying to wheedle children into unsatisfying battles! But before that, we need something from you two. A special favor."

Steven explained the plan to them as uncertainty built within them. Birch assured them they weren't going to get betrayed or jailed. After a moment, they nodded seriously.

"Tomorrow, you're going to meet the Champion and the Elite Four." He judged their plain, black attire and snapped his fingers. "I'll have to buy you both fancier clothes. And be mindful of your powers, their pokemon could fold you like a dry matchstick without your armor. Alder's a sensible man, despite anything Riven may have told you. He only tried to have him killed once after all, it was largely a misunderstanding. Everything will be fine."

The two Origins suddenly looked very uneasy and in agreement for the first time since he'd met them. Maybe Riven's sense of humor had its merits after all.

---

On the rooftop of one of Castelia's skyscrapers, Isole enjoyed the coolness of crisp morning air and the comforting embrace of Unovan winter. Gigantic blue stalks of crystal rose higher than even the buildings, emitting a luminescence that mesmerized the artisan in her. She would love to make a sculpture of that and display it in her room, or in a display in one of Kalos' art museums. A sculpture crafted from a legendary pokemon's power. Just perfect.

"Dreaming of statues again, lass?" A voice called from behind her. Styx appeared out of the shadows, adjusting the bandana on his face. He chewed on a toothpick, sauntering over to the edge and staring out at the crystal structure with a grunt. "Don't see what's so interestin' about it. Just a big rock. Reckon it'll stick around?"

"I hope so," she replied. "It'd be shame to see something so beautiful disappear. Building into it would be a marvel." The man shrugged, not caring much either way. "Is there something you need, Styx? Or is bothering me the itch of the night?"

"No itch today, and what I need is relative to what I want, which is—" A puff of ice froze the tips of his hair and beard. He frowned and shook like a dog shaking off water. "Interrupting a man mid-sentence ain't nice, love."

"If it saves me your roundabout musings and insanity, I'll freeze your mouth shut. Why are you up here? You hate heights."

Styx peered over the rail and made a face. "I do. Much rather keep me bottom on the ground. Nera wanted me to give you your phone before Aero incinerated it. Persistent, those scammers. Seems Unova's infested with them. Goddamn Yanks."

He produced her phone from one of his coat pockets with a flourish. It was still ringing. She took it and looked at the recent calls. They were all from a random number that had called seventeen times over the past two hours. Just as she was about to clear the call history, the same call came in. She quickly dismissed it and blocked the number.

"Thanks," she said, holding up the phone. Styx saluted her, then slunk back into the shadows. A Gengar's eyes watched her from beneath the shadows of the exit. She went back to staring at the crystal when her phone buzzed again. Annoyed, she pulled it out and saw it was a video message.

It wasn't from a scammer.

Her surprise nearly prevented her from dropping her phone off the building. She caught it with a finger thin whip of ice. Riven's voice came from the recording, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, coldstone. Finally blocked the scam messages." His hand flashed out and chucked a disposable phone into the snow. "I might have to send this hours from now. Or tomorrow if my plan doesn't work. Are you enjoying Unova's weather? Because I'm not, it's freezing here and I can't feel my fingers."

She blinked. Had he spam called her to make sure she was the one seeing the message and no one else? Nobody bothered to block random calls for other people, after all. Given Styx had given her her phone out of sheer annoyance, that proved quite true. Good trick. She more or less expected him to know Nera had brought over her group to Unova, anyone in their right mind was coming here for one reason or another. It was only going to get more packed.

She eyed the crystal skyscrapers looming above her. With interest, she began to pay closer attention.

Riven appeared walking along a dense forest, passing a thick expanse of snow-capped pines and oaks. A faint light illuminated the darkness of the forest, barely allowing Isole to make out anything in the dark. He must've recorded it earlier, before dawn. He obviously didn't need that light—he could see perfectly in the dark. The camera flipped, showing Riven's face. Or what she could see. He wore thick winter goggles and several layers of clothing, trudging through thick snow with a crunch following each footstep. He wasn't traveling along the routes, and given the way his breath frosted and the skin on his face was beginning to flush around the goggles, he wasn't in the warmer south. It wasn't exactly snowing in Nimbasa at the moment.

Where was he and what was he doing?

Isole squinted at the video, pausing it for a moment. She and the rest of the crew knew that Riven was a gym leader now. Nathan Ethne as he was calling himself now, which had been surprising, but it was in line with something he'd do. Nera couldn't really touch him now, not with the entirety of the UFO and the League at his back. Good play, if a bit restricting. The question was; what was he doing out in the deeper wilderness in the winter if he had a gym to run? They knew he couldn't teleport, so his available options to travel quickly were limited. In the winter, birds and dragons were liabilities if not outright lethal to trainers in flight, which ruled out flying. And dark Origins were no more resistant to cold than any other type without an elemental weakness. Hypothermia didn't discriminate.

"You're probably wondering, what the fuck am I doing out here, right? After all, I'm a gym leader, aren't I?"

She paused.

"No, you're not crazy," he assured as she relaxed again. "Paranoia recognizes paranoia. We should meet. Out there in the darkness, is Twist Mountain. In case you're not familiar with Unova, that's on Route 7. Cormac should know where that is, or your gps if it works out here. I want to talk. With Nera. I need something from her. Well, not her, but someone in your crew. With Circuit, your little techie. And I have something to trade!"

The camera shifted away from his face, going out of focus for a second until a tiny crystal came into view in Riven's thickly gloved fingers.

"Now, I know it's tiny and unimpressive, like most men you've no doubt encountered, but it's full of interesting, juicy information unlike most men you've encountered." She chuckled. Riven wiggled the crystal in between his fingers. It glowed a faint pink in the low light. "Information you'd need a Celebi to get. After all, ever wonder why a legendary like Dialga decided to hit the middle of a human city out of the blue?" He chuckled ominously. "Aha, that got your attention."

He turned the camera back to his face, cursing at the cold. "Now, I'm not going to lie to you, I really don't want to spend more time than I have to freezing my ass off out here, so I'm cutting it short and going back to my fire. Remember, tomorrow night, Route 7, near dusk. I'll leave a fire out, look for the smoke. I'll be waiting. At least the rest of you can teleport."

Nera was staring intently at Inari's phone, hesitation and curiosity going to war on her face. After Isole had seen the message, she had bolted downstairs faster than she thought possible. The rest of their band was there, all processing the content of the message with less curiosity than Nera and more outright caution.

"It's a damn trap," one of the fire twins, Aero, said. "He hasn't wanted anything to do with you for what… four years since he got away? Sorry, was let go." He eyed Cormac. The man flipped him the bird. "Why start right after the legendary attack? I think he's blowing smoke. Trying to get information out of us. Or kill us."

Benjamin and Cormac were still going over the footage. Benjamin spoke up first, pointing to a map of the Unova region and circling Twist Mountain with a marker. "Or not. If this was a ploy to kill Nera or any one of us, it's a poor one. With all of us present he doesn't stand a chance to try something. And the timing or motive doesn't make sense. Why wait so long to act? Why kill us now? What purpose would it serve? But that one's never been particularly sensible."

"Or sane," Nera muttered. "Nightmares always made Alteans unstable. Not having powers doesn't make you any less crazy, and he was a child soldier, you know how those turn out. I'd still prefer not to get into a close engagement with him in any capacity. After what happened in Kalos, I don't trust him not to attack us, despite his intentions."

"Aye, but most of us can handle ourselves against one bloodthirsty lad," Styx put in. "I say we go, or the boredom will do us in, we're not doing anything here. The Regs got matters locked up tight, and good luck trying to force the UFO to do anything without a veritable army at yer back. We can handle one lad. If things go to hell, just have yer Gardevoir cook him inside out. Fairly open area, she'll run circles around him. Shame to kill a specimen so rare, but when a rabid animal is trying to tear out your throat, there's no helping it, eh?"

A short, pale man with thick-framed glasses asked to see the recording. The more he saw, the more outwardly nervous he became. "It's been years, man. You don't… think he wants to kill me, do you?"

"Still? I'd bet. Those fingers of yours can hurt more people where it hurts than all of us put together," Cormac put in bluntly. "Not to worry, Circuit, men have killed for less. Maybe he just wants to pop your skull like a melon. Or pull your fingernails out one by one, never know with that one. He's pretty vindictive. And petty. Sounds a lot like most of us, actually. If you did that to me, for instance, I might string you up by your balls."

Circuit swallowed.

"Stop scaring him," Nera reprimanded. "I'm not going to let a semi rabid Remnant kill any of us. They're not boogeymen, Circuit. His powers aren't very strong outside of his Nightmare, and I'm sure we can handle his team. The question is, what would he gain from using Circuit? The man could barely operate a computer. And that crystal… To need a Celebi to get…"

Isole eyed the Rosan woman warily, hoping that Riven's insinuation wouldn't hook Nera like the dumbest fish alive. When her eyes blazed orange, her mind decided, Isole let out a long sigh. He was reeling her in now. "It's bait, Nera. And everyone knows it."

"What if it is? Does it matter? Hook or not, I'm interested. You saw that crystal in his hands, I doubt it's an elaborate prop. There's a lot our Legendary friend didn't show us, and we haven't seen that thing in months. Maybe it went to him, showed him things. We're going to find out. If he wants to give us answers so readily, then let him. If he steps out of line, we'll go with Styx's proposition." Their outfit shifted and groaned, but they didn't oppose her decision. "Cormac, this is your home turf, you'll lead. The rest of you less inclined to the cold, pack your winter clothes, we're headed north. Castelia can wait. Mega stones are useless to us, anyway."

---

Tesla whistled casually as he headed to a non-descript brick building on the outer edges of Castelia. Falling apart and easy to overlook, its position would make it difficult for anyone to follow them. Not that they would be. He could have teleported or flown here, but he liked to walk. It also served to annoy the others when he was late, that was always worth it.

The Director had called some of his group over to discuss the Wailord in the room, and what was to be done about it. The mega stones. Chunks of them. Naturally, their discovery after previous events had been just as shocking to them as it had been to the rest of the world, and the Director was not a stupid man. He knew they needed to act quickly.

Tesla had recorded the creation of the sphere he'd given to Viola as a hint for Cerul, he didn't imagine that the timing would be this coincidental. If Viola acted quickly and Riven received "the message" any time soon, it would make him look almost prescient. Cerul would know that wasn't true, he wasn't an esper with the gift of future sight, but he could dream and pretend like it was all part of the plan.

Obviously, Tesla knew that the Director was about to concoct a crazy plan to steal from right under the UFO's noses. Or their front door, considering who else the man had brought. Said man, with long white hair and magenta eyes that seemed to scorn everything around him like so much vermin, leaned against a wall near the entrance of the building, shooting Tesla a withering glare. Despite his flattering and youthful, almost soft features, arrogance seemed to permeate his entire being, and it grated on Tesla like sandpaper on skin. Curians were insufferable in the old world and it seemed to carry over, no matter how much time passed.

"Why did he call you?" Loberia demanded. "You're a plotter, not a fighter."

"I minimize damage. That, is my role. Something sorely needed when around a bunch of trigger happy morons," Tesla replied smoothly. He felt psychic power try to override his body, but a pulse of electricity running through his body purged the energy away as if slapped. Loberia grunted in mild annoyance. "You narrowly escaped last time thanks to me. The operatives know of your existence, you will not catch them unawares again. They won't hesitate to kill you, and I won't hesitate about leaving you to die. They'll drown you in dark types. Then what will you do?"

"Nuisances at best. I only care about one dark lapdog. Do you think he'll be there?"

"Who?"

"You know who. I want another shot at him. This time on even ground, where his tricks are worthless. I will crush his Nightmare and prove the difference between us. The last Altean killed by the last Curian. It's poetic."

Loberia's eyes shifted as light overlayed across his irises, forming white crosses of psychic power where his pupils had been. After a blink, the power faded. Tesla shrugged.

"After the debacle that Sabine Fullon and Lavern caused, I very doubt the League would continue to sully their reputation with a mercenary like him. No one knows his face with that mask on, and we haven't heard a wink of him since. I don't expect he'll make an appearance. We should head inside, you attract too much attention sitting there. And consider a wig, or a hood, I could spot you out of a crowd a mile away with that mop of white hair."

"A wig? Why would I want to wear that? I don't need to hide like you." Loberia said, a wolfish grin on his face as he followed Tesla in. With a lazy motion of the hand, the door closed on its own. "Where's your pet, Aliac?"

"Why do you care?"

"She's supposed to be here. She isn't off… doing favors for people, is she?"

"As long as that someone isn't you, I don't care what she does, or who she does," Tesla said dryly, disinterested. "And neither should you, because she will never agree to your proposal. She not only abhors you, but she's brought down more of our marks than you ever have. Her strengths are not being questioned here. We all have a purpose in what we do. Like you, for example. Power is useful, and that is all you bring. You're nothing but a hammer blindly searching for the smallest nails. All that psychic intellect is doing a hell of a job holding up your egotistical stupidity. Without it where would you—"

A magenta blade of psychic power formed in an instant to slide into Tesla's back, clashing with another blade made of roiling, crackling yellow and blue lightning. Tesla grinned widely. So easily goaded into violence, the man was incredibly predictable. Streaks of light from their techniques lit up the hallway, slicing into the walls and foundations of the building, leaving scorch marks of color. Tesla laughed, taunting the esper until the walls began to shake from the accumulated psychic energy Loberia had begun to gather. The moron was about to bring down the entire floor.

The air began to hum with electricity, contesting the psychic field.

A deafening bang rang out and bullet suddenly streaked down the hallway and stopped in the air between them, caught rotating in place by a psychokinetic force until it came to a complete stop. The casing wasn't metallic. Tesla had wondered why his field hadn't stopped it. Loberia grunted and flicked a finger, the bullet whizzing erratically to the side and crashing into a dilapidated wardrobe in an explosion of rotted wooden splinters. The walls and the air stopped shaking. From the shadows a man stepped out, a suppressed pistol in his hand. He stared both Origins down, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

"What is this idiocy? Tesla, you were late. Get to the briefing, we don't have all night. Fight the enemy, not each other. And do not attract more attention. The last thing we need is the UFO poking around where they don't belong because an abandoned building exploded."

Tesla straightened, the voltaic blade imposed over his arm fading as he stepped away from the esper. He eyed the other man, having recognized the bullet and what purpose it could have, especially when used against beings that could generate magnetic fields strong enough to deflect bullets. Like him. Loberia was certainly fortunate nobody had figured out a casing that was completely psychic proof, but that may change in time.

He'd make sure of it.

Their armed organization member would agree. He was powerfully built, with a strong jaw and a nose that seemed like it'd been repeatedly broken over the years. An old scar burned and cut across his face, a wound from a vicious pokemon he'd faced in distant Paldea several years ago. His hair was short, cut in a militaristic style that denoted the man's preferences; direct, efficient, and pragmatic.

Ishmael, the sharpshooter. One of the wings of Charaph and an assassin by trade.

His real name was something just as boring as his attitude, but all mercenaries liked to make themselves sound more menacing. He was the only one of their group that wasn't an Origin, not that he needed it. Had the man been born any more rigid, he'd make a Graveler look soft.

"Firearms are such uncivilized weapons, fit for the powerless that wield them. Don't you think?" Loberia said dangerously, eyes glowing. His psychic was contested by a new figure that strode out of the dark, Ishmael's Gallade. Bandoliers and plates of fitted leather and metal armor covered the psychic, with a black metal helmet that covered his entire crest and leaving only red eyes to peer out beneath. Tesla grimaced as Loberia backed down, not bothering with pitting his psychic strength against the Gallade's. Nothing Loberia could do would make the Gallade sweat, and the fact that a half ki user was forcing him to admit it must've burned.

That brought a small measure of satisfaction to Tesla, not enough to outweigh how much the Gallade's presence disturbed him, though. If Ishmael and his pet monster were here, along with Loberia, then this did not bode well for collateral damage. Well, the minimization of it, anyway. He was beginning to understand how particularly unpleasant this job was going to be.

"'Mael," Tesla acknowledged. The man stoically nodded back, and Tesla imagined rocks cracking. He'd never seen the man smile once. Or laugh. "My friend isn't here yet. Do you mind fetching her?"

"Her water pokemon knows teleport, she can come herself. I would like to avoid a repeat of last time, but knowing her temperament... Is she busy?"

Tesla chuckled. "She shouldn't be. I do suggest you go get her, though. Won't be happy about it, but a bit of liquid metal won't be enough to kill Atreus, will it?"

"No."

Without a word, his Gallade disappeared in a flash of light. He reappeared a minute later, holding onto a very irritated Aliac. She wrenched her hand away from him, hissing and claiming she could have come herself. Ishmael eyed Tesla, who grinned wryly back.

Looking around the hallway, Aliac's expression shifted to intense disgust as she caught sight of Loberia.

She spat at him, the spittle never making it remotely near his shoes. "The psychic and the assassin. Mindless violence on the docket today?"

"That is not important. You have a means of teleporting here yourself, why are you late? You were supposed to be here earlier than Loberia." Ishmael asked dismissively, ignoring her jab. Aliac waved a hand, dismissing him right back.

"I had things to do. What I do is a lot more work than showing up and putting a bullet in someone. None of you would know subtlety if it came streaming down from the heavens in gold."

"Spreading your legs isn't subtle, or difficult," Loberia jeered. She turned slowly to glare at him, silver light rising from her skin in a shroud.

A heavily muscled hand stretched out to bar her way.

"Ignore him, Allycaia. Did you find where they are taking the stones?" Ishmael inquired. "That is what you were doing, yes?"

She glared at him. "I didn't give you permission to use my name, Petyr. Gallade or not, stop me again and you won't be able to hold so much as a pencil with that arm."

He moved his arm away. "My apologies. The stones?"

"Black City. One week's time. Obsidian and Topaz Districts. The secure vaults in the Dockler and Spiegel buildings. That's where they're going. Ignore the color district, it's a diversion. They're splitting up the locations to make an attack less likely to succeed. A credible source divulged it to me, fresh off the presses. No need to concern yourselves how I did this on such short notice, just be grateful and please muzzle the white dog before I tear his jaw off with my hands." Loberia almost spoke up, but Atreus held up a single finger, silencing the man with the challenge. Aliac thanked the Gallade. "Any other inane questions I have to answer, or can we get to it?"

Ishmael motioned forward as the woman stomped away, silver ribbons of steel type power sparking off her as she went. She'd been about ready to Flash Cannon the entire building. Tesla was surprised. Normally, Aliac wasn't this snappy, or prone to outright violent outbursts with Loberia, mostly because neither could seriously hurt the other. She largely ignored or pitied the man, so it was a bit of a shock to see her so ready to challenge him at the drop of a hat. Something had riled her up. A concern for later.

Nonetheless, Tesla sauntered over to a dusty office space where a projector and a holo caster had been set up. The mercenaries filtered in, facing the projection of the Director. He watched them all enter and straightened.

"You're all here," he said. "Good. I will give your assignments. Isabella will not be joining us, she has business elsewhere. As you have no doubt heard, a critical component of my research is dependent on mega evolution stones. All other avenues have been deemed inefficient to achieve my goals. Castelia has provided us with an opportunity that is both timely, unique, and soon to be inaccessible if Unovan Field Operations is able to transfer the stones into a secure location. Our best option is to strike during the transition period. Several local parties will be used to divert attention away from the main conflict, both during and in the escape. Thanks to our lovely Aliac, we have the location and timing of where they mean to send the stones. If we are successful, the transport vehicles will never make it to their destinations."

Tesla grimaced, hating that his gut feeling had been correct. An outright, direct confrontation in open air and narrow streets. His job was going to be a pain. Chaos would be an understatement for a small scale skirmish in the city of darkness, presumably at night. The Director's holographic image turned to face Loberia, Aliac, and Ishmael.

"You three will be the spear, and the force of the distraction. You will not be liberating the stones, you will be the main focus of the UFO's immediate attention and are to hold out as much as possible. Ideally, the operation should be over before any of the Elite Four show themselves, forcing the League to divert their attention to the stones, or to defend themselves. Should they show, however, you are to direct their attention to our 'help'. I've hired mercenary teams and other characters to assist in the operation. They are fully disposable. If you can see that they all meet their untimely end at the hands of our helpful Elite Four, then do so. It would make the world a better place with their deaths or capture and save me the trouble of paying them. Tesla will handle extraction of the stones. I trust he will best know which assets to use to facilitate egress. In order to succeed, we must deceive them."

Tesla took off his baseball hat and gave the hologram a salute. "My favorite."

"Why not snatch and grab?" Aliac asked. "Atreus could probably do it himself."

The Director eyed the Gallade and shook his head.

"Unfortunately not. If that were possible, I wouldn't need the rest of you. Thieves have been thwarted thanks to advances in technology specifically designed against teleportation and brute force entry. This cargo won't be just regular money. No, they will want maximum security for this. The lining inside the special cases is most likely a special polymer designed by Silph to resist dragonfire and teleportation. You may have heard of Orran Onyx crystals, from the shadow deposits left over by Cipher and their ilk."

Tesla whistled, his eyebrows rising. "The fabled shadow diamonds of the Orran Shadowlands… They really do have unique properties. Canceling psychic power, truly?" From the corner of his peripheral vision, Loberia shifted in concern. Even Ishmael stood straighter, intrigued.

"The material resists psychic influence, anchoring itself down in space to prevent teleportation. But it does not harm psychics." Tesla held in the disappointment as Loberia chuckled mockingly. "Those peculiar properties combined with the experimental composite Silph has recently made available to their various defense contracts, makes it ideally suited for protecting incredibly valuable cargo, like mega stones. I had not foreseen this inconvenience coming with the suddenness of the stones' appearance. You wouldn't be able to twist the locks open with your power, Aliac, they're non-metallic. We can break open the cases with specialized equipment, but not in the field."

"Ah. But that makes everything so much less boring! We haven't had any old-fashioned heists in a while. I'm excited! Are we extracting by air or vehicle?"

"For the spear, any method will suffice. Teleport away as you wish, or fight to your heart's content, it matters little. For the couriers carrying the cargo, that is up to Tesla to decide. No doubt the UFO will give chase. We will not retrieve all of the stones, and I do not expect the UFO to be foolish enough to place all their eggs in one basket. But one case would be a significant boon to our research. It is worth the cost in gold and blood. The finer details are included in the report being sent to your phones now. Be ready."

The hologram shut off, and all their phones pinged with new messages. Loberia was the first to go, giving Aliac a judgmental leer as he teleported away with a snap of his fingers. Ishmael was the second, collecting the devices before giving the both of them a nod and teleporting away with his Gallade.

That left Aliac and Tesla standing in the low-lit room, the both of them quiet for a moment. Tesla looked at her, and she kicked at the wall with her boot.

"I'm going to get shot at again," she complained. "It tingles uncomfortably. My team aren't bulletproof like I am. He does know that, right?"

"I don't think he much cares," Tesla replied easily. "We're mercenaries, after all. Disposable to a point, we just happen to be special. No sense wasting us until he gets what he wants. Then we'll be no more tools than the greedy men we're going to use as fodder. Like gold-plated tongs."

Ally was quiet, the quip Tesla expected strangely absent. He pushed her shoulder with a finger. Solid as a steel door. "Hardening your skin? Even now? Paranoid, are we?"

No response. He turned her to face him.

"Ally, you're not usually this somber. You love getting shot at." She made a face, failing to keep it after a moment. Still no smart reply. Something was wrong. "Hey, what happened to you? Did someone do something to you? Is it your arm? I saw bandages back in the hallway. Did you get into a fight looking for the information?"

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled back a sleeve to reveal bloodstained bandages around one of her wrists. Tesla inspected the bandages on her, then the reddened skin beneath, and was left quite confused. Claw marks? Punctures? Constriction marks? Too small to be the usual suspects, so then…

"Curious… Did you fight a tiny dragon, by any chance? A very tiny dragon."

"Like a palm sized Haxorus? That would have been interesting. Adorable little dragon claws..."

He gripped her shoulders, insistent. "Focus. What was it?" She shook herself free.

"Calm down. They're just small cuts is all, I'm not dying. And it wasn't a what. A who. Our mutual friend. I went to his home again and he didn't take it well. We… fought."

"Fought?" Tesla paused, lingering on the word. That implied he lasted more than a few seconds against her. "Did one of his pokemon do this? The Gallade?"

"Baron was there, but he isn't stupid. He didn't interfere to preserve the house from getting wrecked once I showed him my belt. It was a fight between humans, just like the good ol' days. Pretty brazen to pick a fight with me when he has guests over. Pretty rude, isn't it? I thought he'd be just as weak as last time so I entertained it. I figured I'd subdue him then tease him a little more, give him a straddle, a cheeky peek at the girls, and stroll away as usual. You don't punish the cubs when they bite."

"That is no cub, Ally. You're playing with a lion you've convinced yourself is a cub because it hasn't bit you hard enough yet."

"I know, and it was a mistake. It's a lesson I learned after he threw a vase at me. He can certainly fight. Those Remnants trained their people well."

"Yes, they did. He cut you while doing that?" Tesla finished, perplexed. "With what? A diamond blade? He loves his knives, I wouldn't be surprised if he had one after your last encounter."

"I wouldn't be like this if it was a mundane diamond tipped blade. I didn't notice it, so I assume it was his powers. His fingers, most likely. And he didn't just cut me, he made my bones creak with his strength and quick attack until I hardened them. Matching my strength isn't easy for fragile types like his, and he had some form of dermal armor that protected him from my hits. Not protect, something else. Do you know how long it's been that an Origin has surprised me like that? A pokemon I could expect, but from a man without a hint of ki or flames? Ridiculous."

Her voice shook, and Tesla's bewilderment grew. Ally normally carried herself with an air of invincibility. Her skin was nigh impenetrable outside of her weaknesses or overwhelming hardness like a dragon's claws unless she allowed it. Dark type attacks were some of the only physical based attacks that didn't meet some kind of resistance against steel skin, and that was only because the dark had strange properties no one really understood. Still, the dark energy didn't often cut so much as bleed through a steel type's defenses, acting as some kind of internal attack rather than cutting through traditionally. Unless made with something that had a natural edge like a Gallade's forearm blades, mortal night slashes against flesh were messier, separating the tissue, muscle, and sinew with messy disintegration that followed a crude cut like pattern rather than a clean slash. But Riven's had functioned more like a real blade, and humans definitely didn't grow blades as part of their bodies.

What made it different?

"The trials," he began. She grimaced.

"Yes. I was a teenager before… well, everything. Steel versus steel. Power against power. Pain doesn't scare me. But there's too little we know about him. Origins don't grow as fast as pokemon can, and his strength was dramatically stronger than it was previously. It hasn't been that long since our first meeting. Either he's sandbagging something fierce, or he's some sort of genius monster, and I really doubt that. I don't know and it bothers me. Gave me this rather than cough up answers."

She pulled the top of her shirt down enough to reveal the crystal growth settled in the middle of her sternum. It seemed to glide through her skin as if seamlessly separating from her fortified flesh and bone, floating down to the palm of her hand, where it sat. She scratched at the point where it used to sit and frowned. "I don't know why it has to attach itself there. It itches."

Tesla wasn't paying attention, intrigued beyond words as he bent down to look at the crystal. He'd never seen a crystal like this, and he'd examined a lot of rocks over the years. It glowed a soft pink as light reflected off the surface of the crystal in tiny, fractalized waves that prodded his acute electrical sensitivity. A whisper of a song, playing in minute electrostatic notes that waxed and waned…

A spark of his electricity ran through his finger as he tapped the stone. It began to glow brighter. He felt a psychic intrusion stronger than Loberia's in his mind as a picture formed in his brain before he cut off the flow of electricity in a panic. In an instant, a protective current of electricity pulsed underneath his skin, breaking the foreign influence flowing through his body. Ally eyed him and laughed softly to herself.

"I reacted the same way. It's not a bomb, or a trap. More like a viewing construct of some sort. Weird crystal-based technology—like the spheres, I think. But this seems… different. More advanced? I don't know," she said. "I haven't looked through it yet, but he warned that it was enough to keep even Origins babbling like idiots if we tried to view it all at once. Don't show it to Loberia. Or Isabella."

"I wouldn't share anything with that maniac. And I don't trust anyone whose head is filled with rocks, least of all Isabella. There is power here. Nothing we have compares to this… Ally, this sings to us. To our bodies, our blood, our minds. I can feel it in the currents. Did he tell you what was in it?"

"Apart from a vague, 'answers', no. He was trying to get me to leave as fast as possible, and didn't mince words. He wasn't happy with me." She guiltily looked off to the side. "Not sure why."

"Did you eat his food again?"

"…Yes."

"Not sure, huh?"

She crossed her arms and sniffed. "You know how much calories I have to eat. Waiting for him made me hungry and I couldn't help myself. I paced around his house for three hours! The yogurt was just sitting there, being delicious and defenseless. I tried to hold off, I really did. I left money in the cabinet to pay for it."

"That doesn't make it any less annoying. Leave a stranger's food alone, perhaps? You're going to help yourself to a blaze kick at this point. A Blaziken would eat you alive in two languages. Stop tempting fate, especially now that he knows he can cut you."

"But it's fun! He wouldn't hurt me seriously."

"Not a cub, remember? Do you assume that because he can't or won't? The first is out the question now. You don't know him at all," Tesla said, taking the crystal from her instead. She pouted. "The man was a Remnant, he'd separate your head from your shoulders and barely register it if it wasn't nearly impossible to do in the first place. That may not be who he is now, but he is capable. Don't trust his restraint. If he does hurt you, remember that getting steel types medical treatment is a nightmare, and I don't want to go through that process to find out just how bad it can get."

She glanced away and Tesla turned her to face him again.

"I'm not scolding you. Forget about what he did for now. We can look through this construct after our operation, then… well, we'll see if our friend's answers aren't some bad trick. More importantly, Ishmael is keeping a closer eye on us than we thought. He had non-metallic bullets today."

"I'm sure he did. As if our little band of killers and liars isn't a ring of suspicion all the time? We can barely stand each other. Turmoil among mercs is the story of our lives. Comes with the selfishness and egotism. If we aren't all trying to kill each other after this all kicks off, I'd be shocked, Tes. I've also seen his explosive bullets, the ones used to punch through armored vehicles." Tesla nodded uncomfortably as she said it. "I'm not counting his Magmortar either, I swear the thing wants to eat me."

"His Gigalith looks at me and my Luxray similarly. It's not just us, either. Should've seen the way his eyes lit up when the Orran crystals were brought up."

"So did yours," she said, smile wry. "Looking for ways to get rid of our favorite esper?"

Venom practically dripped from her words.

"If only a stray bullet would catch him in the temple when his usefulness runs out. Until it does, I'll need to be prepared for when the time comes." Tesla returned the smile, a deadly edge to it. "I suspect Ishmael's prepared to kill any one of us if we step out of line."

"We can cut him in half if we want to. Do it while he's asleep. He's not that scary."

"Easier said than done. Caution and a sharp mind are a dangerous combination. And I don't think he sleeps. Atreus certainly doesn't. He's the one I'm afraid of."

The Gallade still sent shivers down all their spines.

"That's true." Aliac wrapped the bandages back on her arm, watching the mending skin briefly with concern on her face. "I'd rather not fight his pokemon, because mine would lose. We best make ourselves indispensable. Which means getting shot at. I'll have to pack my earplugs. I'm jealous, you get the easy job."

"Do I? I don't really get the honor of making grand entrances like the rest of you, or getting wined and dined regularly by wealthy people vying for your attention. You even have multiple names known throughout the criminal world. A famous and beautiful thorn of a woman. I don't even get that, just boring backroom deals and fading into the background, not glamorous at all. No one knows who I am, or care. A good scrap might do me some good once in a while."

"Careful what you wish for, Tes."

"Yes, I might just get it, won't I?"

"Knock on wood. I'll be seeing you then, got stuff to do before the big day. We have a few days before they move them, they want to give the Professor from Kalos some time to study them. In the meantime, I'll see if I can get some more info. Prepare well, Tes, you got the most homework of all of us." She gave him a sympathetic clap on the back, and strode out of the room. A second later, a pokeball opened and a Cloyster emerged. She settled herself atop its shell and waved. With a whoosh of sound, she teleported away, leaving Tesla alone with his thoughts in the abandoned building.

He walked up to a cracked window, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. The crystal song reverberating in his palm like hushed whispers weighed on his mind, but more immediate concerns demanded his attention.

How was he going to dupe some of the best operatives in the region on such short notice, and do it without killing most of them? He peered through the broken glass at the sky above, then absently traced the rooftops with a glance. Based off what he heard from Black City's nighttime dwellers and hustlers…

An idea formed as he grinned. Yes… that might just work.

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Been a while since the last update, but after being busy, catching up on more games, and having writer's block plus a dozen rewrites I've done it. As usual, no promises for the next chapter but hopefully soon. Thanks everyone for reading and continuing to stick around with this little project.

Bit of a side note, if anyone questions how a populace can react badly to events in a way that seems nonsensical, I direct you to what's been happening in the States in the past five years. Insane doesn't begin to cover it. Considering the Unova region is based off New York, it's given me creative liberties that make me laugh maniacally and I love it. When life gets more hectic… GOOD.

Sela Schaffer is owned and created by Digital Skitty, appearing in the fanfic Pedestal.

Maya Blair Majors is owned and created by Digital Skitty, appearing in the fanfic Ree Majors' Wonderful Journey.

Antoine Pollock is owned and created by Digital Skitty, appearing in the fanfic Ree Majors' Wonderful Journey.