Disclaimer: Pokémon is still owned by The Pokémon Company, which in turn is owned by Nintendo, Game Freak, and probably others I forgot. The following fanfiction is me playing around in their sandbox, using characters they envisioned and created, except for the odd character that wasn't. I own nothing of this.

A/N: Not a fun chapter, stretching the T-rating pretty far in the last section. If squeamish, consider skipping from someone wiping their cheek onward.

Chapter 42: The Plunging Dark

The mid-afternoon sun was casting a gentle light across the streets of the small town Max was in. Puddles lined the street from the consistent rain that had fallen overnight, and Max checked his reflection out in a few of them.

What looked back was still a stranger to him.

The glasses? Sure, they were the nearly the same. His second pair had slightly differently coloured rims, but were the same shape. They were a common model, though, and contact lenses… The time to do that wasn't when you were on the run from people who'd literally tortured you. He needed his vision, and trying something new – and learning how to care for those contacts while he was at it – wasn't on his list of ideas to do. Better uses of his time.

The hair, on the other hand… That hairdresser had been so, so, helpful. Max couldn't shake the feeling that she'd recognised him, but she hadn't said anything, instead walking him through the options and how to care for his newly dyed hair and all of that. She'd even set him up with something temporary, sensing his reluctance, even if the lie he'd been prepared to tell of a lost bet wasn't needed.

The result was that his dark blue hair, which had been shortened to just above his ears as well, now had significant red gleams, making it look a dark version of magenta in some puddles, and red-and-blue in others. Different lighting, different looks.

It was a bit cool, too, but Max didn't think he would've done it if he hadn't been trying to think of ways to hide himself. Dyeing had been the second thing on his mind, after a cap as the first. That had lasted until sceptile had pointed out that Max's hair was too long to hide under one. The jump to dyes had been fast after that, as Max had remembered an offhand comment Danny had made, quickly followed by his promise to consider a streak of coloured hair.

That all had been hours after he'd left in the middle of the night, Key Stone and everything in tow.

Uncertainty bubbled up within him as he made it to the store, but as before, Max shoved the feelings out of the way. He'd done what he had needed to do. He was going to the facility, where maybe he'd find answers. The way the ninetales had spoken did make him think there would be some.

It was slow going. Theoretically, he could just get gardevoir to go there, but… Vulpix had been against that, and she'd been – through some translation – convincing enough about not doing that. Psychic-types were forbidden, and if someone saw them, it'd be trouble. Gardevoir had reluctantly agreed, which left Max going about Hoenn on foot, travelling the reverse path of over two years back.

The moment they got in easy teleportation range of the facility, though, gardevoir was taking them there. That was at least a week off from now, and so Max needed to do normal Trainer things, like buy food and more.

Strangely, he'd missed that. Hell, just being outside had been liberating after being stuck on an island for nearly a month.

Phantom pain twinged as he moved through the aisles, carefully taking the things he knew were good and that his Pokémon liked. Store brand sour treats, but branded water filters because they were just better. A big roll of gauze because he'd left the first aid kit with Danny, and that also meant he needed tape…

"Are you injury-prone or something?" a girlish voice suddenly asked from his left. Max nearly jumped literally, but he managed to just turn around to see a teenager like him, so probably a year younger, with frazzled and uneven hair. Possibly an accident: the cut didn't look like it had been done by a hairdresser. "That's a lot of bandages."

"All out," Max replied as he grabbed some smaller bandages blindly, before putting them back and grabbing some that were actually appropriate for a fourteen year old boy. He also tried to calm his heart, because being surprised like that had caused it to start racing. "Didn't think we were, but there you go."

"You didn't need it, right?" the girl said, giving him a look that reminded Max of Brock after some of the more bruising Rocket attacks. "And what you need that much stuff for anyway?"

He wasn't going to get away with vague words, he could tell. Time to lie creatively, then. "We spend a lot of time off-route. Way off-route," he added, carefully gesturing and still nearly knocking something off the shelves thanks to his pack. Why had he brought that again? "And not every Pokémon is friendly, you know." He made sure she caught him looking at the missing hair. "You probably know that."

"That was one of mine. Slugma caught some kind of virus, and one of her sneezes did this." She gave him a look. "Where'd you get that hair done? Here in town?"

"No, over in Sisan," Max replied truthfully, if not mentioning it had been that morning. He also wondered why she was asking. It wasn't anything really special: there were loads of people with dyed hair. "Doesn't Nurse Joy know a place?"

"She gave me two. I'm trying to decide if one is better." A regular inhabitant of the town – probably: he was far too portly and old to be a Trainer out on the road – wanted some bandages as well, and they moved to the side. "You want to do a quick battle outside, after we paid for our things?"

"Just a one on one, if that's okay," Max replied as he grabbed some disinfectant. He still had some that had been left in his pack from… Probably before the Silver Conference, but if he was stocking up anyway. "And in an arena."

"There's one nearby. I'll show it to you." A hand was held out. "I'm Jean."

Oh, shit. He needed a name, he needed it fast, and he needed to remember it. "Hugo," he replied, hoping that Jean hadn't noticed the hesitation, and apologising to his Kalosian friend for borrowing the name. "Good to meet you."

"Same. Now, let's go pay."

Twenty minutes later, poliwhirl was victorious over Jean's swellow with some carefully timed blasts of water and a scuffle on the ground. Both Pokémon were pretty dirty, but the Water-type would be fine after a bit of time in a river near where he'd planned to camp out. "That was fun."

"Yeah. Aerial Ace is a good move," Max replied as he returned his Pokémon. "One of your first Pokémon?"

"Third," Jean replied, sounding a bit surprised. "How did you guess that?"

"Taillow are common everywhere here, and you sound like you're from Hoenn."

His opponent laughed, heartfelt too. "You're good. I'm from Mauville. Didn't know if I wanted to do Contests or Leagues at first, so December will be the first one for me. How about you?"

A moment's pause as he decided how much of the truth he wanted to tell. He put on his pack first to get a few more seconds. "Just had my first," Max lied through his teeth. "Johto. Did okay, had fun."

"You're… You're from Hoenn too, right? Why start there?" Jean leaned in. "It's not because of… Those attacks?"

"No. My Dad is from there." He shifted a bit, facing her fully, and keeping the annoyance at the implied assumption in check. She couldn't know. "Thanks for the battle, but… I need to go now. Good luck!"

~~§~~§~~

Four weeks had passed since his house had been destroyed. Now, he was back there, looking over the ruins that had been cleared by police. No untoward things had been found, as expected, though looking over the rubble, Raphael Paulson suspected not much could have been found regardless.

Between the Dragons attacking and the outburst of rage from the gardevoir – triggered by his activation of a disruptor, and counter-triggering a fucking Mega Evolution – there hadn't been much left. An explosive device with enough strength to knock out bearing walls from the middle of the room would have done less damage.

It explained why the phrase 'structurally unsound' had not appeared in the report. There simply was little of the structure left. Some outer walls holding up against the elements and the storms that had come through in the weeks since; some of the carpeted and tiled floors that had not been directly above the basement. No more. Puddles from the rain were everywhere, and the open basement was severely waterlogged.

Rebuilding was going to take a while, and empty his account in the process.

The boy would pay for this.

Now, with hindsight, it was obvious where Reginald had chosen to hide. A blind spot, ruthlessly exploited. It was secretive, naturally reclusive, and with that blasted gardevoir and a xatu, supplies could be attained everywhere nearby. They had likely commandeered the mountain upon arrival at the end of August, and had only left for unknown reasons after a fight on the flanks.

Legends of old told of a ninetales living there. He knew not if it was true, but it seemed the most likely to have occurred. Either that, or a horde of Ghost-types.

And then, to his surprise, some of his men had found Reginald there the night after. They had been defeated, as expected, but one did not make any omelettes without cracking a few eggs.

There were inferences to be made from that encounter. It had been only the former Gym Leader, most likely. This meant that, wherever the teenagers were, they were without their protector. Together, without a doubt. It would be folly to try and search for them, given their mobility, and the skill they had.

An attempt to capture them had worked once, foiled only by what he was increasingly suspecting to have been hostile interference. It was too contrived otherwise: Gary Oak – according to his sources – flying over atop the elder Oak's dragonite? The younger was known to have a fearow for flying transportation, and an alakazam if he needed to be anywhere quick. It was too convenient, which, in this line of work, often meant that there was a leak somewhere. He would have to find out where it could have been.

The actual capture had been fortuitous, and mostly useless as well. He had learned nought from the capture except that Maple was a teenager with uncommon mental strength. The response had been more enlightening.

It had only drawn Reginald and Birch. No Lance, no Ketchum, even no Oak the younger, all of whom were dangerous Trainers, and in conjunction, they could derail plans that had been set in motion.

But grief made weaklings of all, and so the next step in the dance of spies would likely be to lose another home. Maple wanted vengeance: his psych report suggested as much. Birch could likely temper it for a while, and Paulson was counting on that to further advance the contingencies he was planning, but at some point, the dam would break and the Mauville apartment that was his as a member of the Hoenn Parliament would be under attack. And then…

Oh. That was an idea. It could even get the support, or at least tacit aid, of Wattson, who wanted only to protect his beloved city. And he had enough good will built up with some of his colleagues as well. It would have to be done in secret, and as such, it would have to be done inside the Centrists, but… It could work.

It was time to start layering the trap so that even that gardevoir, Mega Evolved or not, could not get the damned boy out of trouble again.

And this time, there would be no mercy. This time, he would start with the torture, and not shy away from the physical either.

Others, Paulson knew, found that distasteful. He had never agreed. The ends, as the pithy saying went, justified the means, and ushering in a glorious new era was an end worth fighting for.

It was worth killing for.

~~§~~§~~

Professor Rowan ended the call, and Professor Samuel Oak sat back in his chair, folding his hands in the now quiet room. A look caused the ambipom to press a button to lock the door. If one of his assistants wanted him, they could knock. He needed quiet to work through what had happened.

The Hoenn Professor wouldn't have done what he had without a reason, which meant there was something being bandied around somewhere that spooked his easy-going colleague enough to send away hundreds and hundreds of Pokémon. What exactly, Oak didn't know, but he had little doubt that he would shortly, should it become relevant. There were myriad options, with the most likely further restricting to the point of effective incarceration even in sanctuaries like the Laboratories and their annexes.

Politicians often forgot that the position was of Pokémon Professor first, and of the location second. Lance and Oak disagreed on several topics, but on the sacrosanctity of Pokémon was one that they were in full agreement, and it kept the local politicians quite docile, even spilling over to Johto despite Elm's reticence to get involved himself.

It begged the question what Steven Stone was doing.

One thing was certain: Maxim hadn't done what he had in response to anything visible. There hadn't been any attack with significant casualties for a few weeks. That meant it was something not immediately apparent, which likely meant the government was involved. Any Professor worth anything had ears in the government or bureaucracy to ferry information, and it was entirely plausible for the Hoenn government to go further and further still. This was obvious even to those who didn't know certain details, such as some newspaper columnist he'd read just the other day.

And like the apocryphal froakie in a boiling pan, most of Hoenn just sat and waited. There were rumblings, and Oak didn't buy the Dark-type Master's acquiescence for a moment either, but they were few. The ones responsible had studied well: whether it be human behaviour or history mattered not.

And yet, Trainers had a knack of ruining things. It had been random Trainers, names scrubbed from most conventional history under witness protection, who had first revealed the Rocket corruption scandal, though few had believed them. It had been regular Trainers that had brokered the peace in the last civil war to rage across the Home Regions; also in Hoenn, close to a century and a half ago. It had been regular Trainers, albeit aided from abroad, who had brought Team Plasma to justice and freed Unova.

It had been a regular Trainer and his friends who had thwarted Team Rocket, Team Aqua, and Team Magma, plus various other escapades.

And now an understudy was proving to head down the same path.

Oak felt a grin tug at the edges of his mouth. Though by conventional definitions, Max was not really an understudy to Ash, he would wholeheartedly agree, and pester the older boy into agreeing as well. He'd seen them play off each other enough.

Their counterparts were the heirs to the Professorships, whose relationship was interwoven with their friends – much as his grandson had denied that Ash was a friend at various points in his life after the friendship had been re-established. Oak had only asked about the specifics of what the two had been up to after Danny had left, but the casual way in which Gary had explained the process through which they'd theorised the limits of the machines had revealed a good rapport between the two of them and astute minds that would serve them both well.

As if he'd needed more proof of that. Last winter had been enough proof of that for Danny, and Gary continued to be a great help with a sharp mind, provided some ego puncturing took place every once in a while.

And now, the two teenagers in Hoenn were apart. This was troubling.

It was easy to identify the one responsible. What was far, far harder was to figure out why Max would leave. What kind of leverage had been wielded against him? Kidnapping seemed unlikely, given that both of them had withdrawn Pokémon and neither poliwhirl nor froslass had caused anything but relief amongst the other Pokémon.

He could ask Sabrina for a loan of a telepathy-capable Pokémon, but if either of them had said not to tell, that would be a waste of time. Though he could conceivably be in luck with the froslass, it was unlikely to work with the poliwhirl. Paranoia on the part of the Trainer would do that.

No, the right thing was to follow from a distance, surreptitiously, and hope that nothing happened to either of them.

And if something had, well… There were at least six Master Trainers Oak knew of who would gladly storm Hoenn.

~~§~~§~~

Serena made sure to smile and wave at the audience after winning her second Johto Ribbon in a month; this one in Catallia City. The first one had come days after she had been pointed at a house randomly being destroyed in Hoenn by some rampaging Dragons; which, she had been told, was a pretty sure sign that Max had been there. He had to have been freed.

It was now three and a half weeks later – for some reason, this Contest was on a Thursday of all days – and since then, she had heard nothing from her friends. No call, sure, she could get that. But no letters either?

It worried her, and it had cost her a few points when her opponent's manectric had used a Flamethrower to great effect. Altaria had done some very ungraceful dodging to get out of the way, but in the end, the Dragon had won out with a nice Mist and Dragon Pulse lightshow that had blinded the opponent for just enough points.

She went back to the dressing room, put her normal clothes back on, and made to leave, but before she could do that, someone else walked in.

"Oh, hey Jess," Serena said, greeting one of her sort-of rivals with a hug, as they normally did. The blonde hadn't participated because one of her Pokémon had gotten ill overnight, putting a damper on her mood, but Serena had seen her in the audience. "One ahead of you again."

"Not for lack of trying," came the suddenly sharp reply, and the Kalosian found herself marched to the bench as a hitmontop closed the door and leaned against it to make sure it stayed closed. "You're distracted. Trouble with your boyfriends?"

"They're not..."

"I know. You've only said it five times," Jess replied, giving her a strange look. "Fun to tease, though, which is why we keep doing it. But is there trouble with them? Because if so..."

Serena folded her arms underneath her breasts. "What makes you think..."

"Girl, it's that or your mother. You're not close enough to anyone else to worry about them enough that you get distracted." The thirteen year old sat down besides Serena. "Just tell me. Please."

"I..." Serena started, but something inside made her stop and think. She did, in silence, until she reached a decision, about a minute later. "We're not doing this here." She stood up, ignoring the hand that Jess put on her wrist. Danny had shown her how to get out of wrist grabs like that after Durocor. "We're doing this in the Center, in my room. Not somewhere anyone can walk in."

That got her a strange look, and some pestering, but she held firm, and half an hour later – after detouring past a corner shop for celebratory ice cream – the two of them sat down in the Pokémon Center. "Okay, now what..."

Jess stopped because Serena sent meowth out. "If someone's coming close, scratch the door," she told her cat, opening the door to let the feline slip out. Then, she closed it again, locking it for good measure. "Okay. I need you to promise something. Promise me you won't tell anyone. Not your parents, not Nurse Joy, not Officer Jenny, and… You get the idea."

"Eh… Why's that. You're scaring me, Serena..."

"Just promise," she repeated, realising with a pang that she sounded just like Max needling a promise out of others. "It's not illegal." She thought. "Just… Sensitive, okay?"

"Alright, I promise," Jess replied, looking and sounding a bit unsure. "So… What is it?"

Serena told her. Mostly. Jess didn't need to know about some stuff, but the attack on Danny, Max, and Evan, the kidnapping in the Tree, and the suspected rescue were all relayed without interruptions. "Guess you were right about them worrying me, though," she said after finishing the explanation, but the joke fell completely flat. "Jess?"

"Sorry," the blonde said, shaking her head before getting up and enveloping Serena in a tight, tight, hug. "I get it now."

"You… do?"

"Mostly." Jess sat back down, leaning forward a moment later. "You just want to know if they're okay. To see them, or hear them, or read them. I… I know how that feels."

Serena bit down on her first instinct to dismiss it. Jess wasn't the girl who would exaggerate, and what she said was so true it almost hurt. "What happened?"

"My younger brother. A car. Head injury and badly broken leg," Jess replied softly. "I was eleven. He was eight. It was pretty bad, and Mom and Dad didn't want me seeing him at first." She gave a smile; one that reminded Serena eerily of the older teenagers talking about Max's kirlia in how empty it was. "Had a panic attack after a couple of hours. Never forgot how the waiting felt."

"Is he..."

"Oh, he's fine. Lost a week of memories for a while. Only the accident and the hours after now. Has some huge scars on his left leg that stand out bad." A real grin. "He's an all eleven year old boy now. Immature, likes fart jokes, and thinks the scars are cool as anything."

Memories of her own classmates rushed into Serena's memory, and the plague of whoopee cushions that had gone around school for a month. Or more, but then she'd had her injury. She could believe all of it, much as she'd rather not have remembered that particular aspect of school. "Good to hear he's okay."

"Yep. He got lucky. Head injuries can go wrong pretty badly," Jess replied. "The doctor I talked to said that was why you always had to get checked out by Nurse Joy if you ran into a Psychic-type or a Ghost-type that attacked you. Just in case."

Did… Oh, who was she kidding. Her friends knew that and either didn't care or had weighed the risks. Either one. "That ever happen to you?"

"Yep. When I caught haunter. Or gastly. Confuse Ray going for venonat missed, and it hit me." For some reason, Jess smirked. "He's a big softy. I was trying to capture it, and that Confuse Ray? All it did was make me see stuff in different colours. Everything was purple."

Part of Serena – the part that paid attention to Danny and Max endlessly talking about battles at times – figured out why that was in an instant. "Well, if gastly are purple… Wouldn't that cause him to blend in? Maybe escape?"

"Yep. But that doesn't work against venonat. They don't really see colour I think. And they have those radar eyes." The blonde shrugged. "It did cause me to miss a pokéball because I didn't really see where he was."

"Sounds like it hit the right target by accident."

"One way of looking at it."

There was silence for a minute or so. It was right, but it also felt like the sensitive stuff was done, so Serena stuck a hand in her pocket and got the door key out. Before she could get up, though, Jess grabbed her wrist, gently. "What is it?"

"What told you about that escape?"

"A house being destroyed? Someone told me that was a good sign."

"Serena…" Jess said, and something in her voice made the Kalosian very wary. "Did they tell you whose house it was?"

"No? Why's that matter? They kidnapped Max."

"And deserved everything, yep. But I remember reading that too," her sort-of-rival revealed. "The guy whose house was destroyed was some kind of big politician. It… Serena?"

The brunette had frozen, but her mind was working rapidly. A politician? Danny and Max had been wanted, and then they weren't, but then there was that attack and they had told her that the kidnappers wanted them back in Hoenn. And in Kalos, Team Flare had gone and put moles in place to stop stuff from being investigated, but what if…

What if those weren't needed because the ones who had kidnapped Max were that important?

"Earth to Serena..."

She turned towards Jess, grabbing both of her friend's wrists. "You need to keep this secret," she whispered. "Don't talk about it. Not to anyone."

"I promised that?"

"Do it again," Serena demanded. "Jess," she added when her friend hesitated. "This is important. If people know either of us knows, they'll come for us."

"Like… Kidnapping come—"

"Yes."

Eyes widened, and for a moment, the Kantonian struggled to even think, if Serena was any judge. Then, a slow nod. "I won't tell. I promise." Arms were freed. "You need to talk to someone about this."

She should, but calls weren't safe.

A letter it was then. To Professor Oak.

~~§~~§~~

"I don't get it," Max said as he looked at his borrowed necklace, Key Stone glinting in the sun that peeked through the canopy above. "We've been trying this for a week now, and nothing." He looked up at the Pokémon keeping himself levitating just above a rock, for practice. "Okay, not like I've been spending a lot of time thinking, but… We know each other. So… Why am I not thinking of the right thing?"

"Or perhaps I am not," gardevoir replied with a point so tired Max didn't even want to refute it. "We will figure it out soon enough."

"The sooner the better," the teenager muttered, not petulantly at all. "At least manectric's bond will keep me unaffected. Mostly." The Electric-type gave his hand a lick from where she was lying, right next to him, and he returned a quick scratch. "Don't get me wrong, gardevoir, but this sensitivity thing your brother probably saddled me with somehow has its downsides." Like the headaches, ranging from annoying to crippling, in the presence of those disrupting machines.

"And yet, you would not have it any other way."

Manectric barked softly in agreement, and Max smiled. "Of course not. Well… I'd rather have him, but… Y'know." He shrugged. "I wonder if Danny's going to ask me to be a test subject or something in a few years."

"Why?" gardevoir asked, and the soft keening from near his left leg agreed with the green-and-white Pokémon.

"Reading between the lines… It's rare in humans. I bet you anything Danny asked around about this. When he says he doesn't really know much about this, I believe him," he reasoned out. "I'm the one who keeps secrets. He wouldn't about this. Maybe he'd not tell me he had asked, but… That's not really a secret if it doesn't really yield any results." Another shrug. "Gonna be honest… It would be cool if this somehow turned into actual Psychic powers."

"How common are those in humans?"

"I've run into someone who looked exactly like me, except he was a couple years older, and you ask how common something like this is?" Amusement fluttered past, and there was a canine snort as well. It wasn't the first time he'd brought up the other Max in her presence. "Or how about running into four different Team Flare attacks in eight months, when there were maybe a dozen total across Kalos? Or the stupid amount of Legendaries I've seen?"

"A point well made, but no answer to the question."

Max leaned into the tree a bit, satisfied. "One in a million? One in five million? Or more, but people don't realise it? Ash didn't know he could use Aura either, but damn if he wasn't always that bit more persistent, and less injured after a Team Rocket attack, even before." He stretched his arms to the point where he could feel his muscles and tendons. "How many go about it like Danny and his instincts for Doubles? Not that he has Psychic powers. Probably," he added. "But, y'know. Example."

The bark from manectric was almost accusatory, if light-hearted. "It takes one to know one," gardevoir said, and Max figured it was probably a translation or close enough to one.

They sat in silence for a bit before the teenager got up, causing him to get a few odd looks. "Just checking to see if we need something. We're pretty close to a town, after all."

"We are?" A soft pressure on Max's mind, and he let it happen. "Is that why you stopped here?"

"Nah. This just seemed like a nice and secluded spot." He looked around at the natural hollow they were in, with only about a third of it not lined by cliffs about twice as tall as he was. "Reminds me a bit of the place near the Indigo Plateau. The one you had to catch me for when we went to Serena." He gestured vaguely west. "But yeah, town's edge half a mile that way and it's this quiet and peaceful? Great!"

He dove into his pack, but there was plenty of food, enough treats, water to last him a day – and a brook not too far north too – and nothing else really needed to be refilled or bought either. He closed the pack, and made to sit down.

A wave of pain slammed into his back, and his vision went black.

Pain. Hurt. Everything hurt. Tearing burning boiling gnashing rending.

Rage.

A bond, snapping in place.

Hauled upright. Opening eyes. Meeting red. Seeing himself.

"They hurt us," he and gardevoir thought in unison. Blood flowed freely from scratches, on Max's face, on gardevoir's arms. Manectric was nowhere to be seen; but reappeared. "They will pay."

Rage surged as Max agreed. He wiped his cheeks, hand coming away red. "Let's."

They stepped through the world, reappearing. A white lorry. Two humans. Four Pokémon. One gesture. Three Pokémon went flying, attacks fizzling. Electricity clashed, paralysing static exploding outward. It did nothing, drained of effect.

A Pokémon got up, attempting flame. Max saw. Gardevoir acted.

It hit a high wall, over a hundred feet away, falling out of view.

Another Pokémon got up. It snapped a tree in half, falling out of view.

Electricity stopped inches from Max's face, every exposed hair feeling it. Manectric accepted it. The sender flew up. It met the fourth Pokémon on the way down, and Flamethrower hit them both as they landed.

He heard screaming, yelling, terror. He felt it, radiating off of the humans, increasing, spiking. They flew in.

Fear. They reeked of it. The left one; younger, shaven, shaking, started muttering. A prayer. "Arceus, p-protect your faithf—"

Gardevoir cut it off, asking a silent question if he could, and the answer flowed instantly: yes, he should.

They knew nothing important. Find a place, incite an attack. Nothing more, nothing less. It was their second. Left had hidden doubts, deep, deep, deep, down. Right regretted nothing.

He landed with the burned Pokémon. Left fainted naturally, then gasped, brought back. "W-w-w-ww-w-hat d-d-d-do..." You want?

What did they want? Ideas swirled, formed and dismissed between the beat of hearts.

A bark and a question. No. No chance for mercy, but an idea formed, adjusted after a thought. "Go to Mead. Talk to the Leader. Tell her what you did," Max said, towering over the quivering human. He landed easily, and at a second thought, a shudder of intense pain tore through the man. "Do it."

And he ran. Stumbling, awkwardly, shaking, but the black-wearing man ran.

They turned attention to the lorry. The doors flew off, one hitting the duo of Pokémon. They walked, floated, padded into machinery, circuitry everywhere. At the end, a tank. Familiar. Rainbow agon— no, that was then. "Free it."

The spoink inside cried weakly as it was lifted into Max's hands. Patches of raw skin; minimum dried blood, drained of most Psychic energy. It lashed against him, unconsciously. It did little; a cut that opened no skin.

Manectric jumped atop a machine, giving the grey Pokémon a soothing lick. Gardevoir levitated a pokéball into view. "For healing," Max told the cradled Pokémon, holding it in one hand. "Your choice."

It reached out, and it was sent to Pallet. Momentary relief, then burning resolve.

Manectric whined, returning herself.

The side of the truck exploded out. They exited; petrol in Max's nostrils, an explosion soon after; contained with ease, if taking time.

Two Pokémon, alive but unresponsive, half-underneath a steel door, burned. One human, quarter-aware, shocked to full and lifted. The bond soared with rage, all-encompassing. "You," they said in unison. "You set Pokémon on Pokémon, Pokémon on human. You cause pain. Agony."

There was no reply, but rage kept building and building.

A bolt of lightning-clear clarity struck Max. What gardevoir wanted. Human morals struggled.

And lost.

"Use Psychic."

~~§~~§~~§~~§~~

Cross Hollow, seventy miles east of Mauville, was the site of the latest attack by Psychic-types; the third in the past two months. Yet this time, events did not take place according to what has come to be seen as the norm.

Instead of an hour or longer, this lasted perhaps ten minutes, allowing prepared citizens and defenders to hold off the attacks with minimal problems and limited damage. However, just outside the town, a strange sight greeted the assembled inhabitants. A magcargo had been thrown into a large warehouse wall, and approximately ninety yards away, a burning heap of metal had appeared. Police say it is likely this was once a lorry, as evidenced by a pair of doors lying nearby.

Moreover, three more Pokémon and one human were found. The human, identity unknown as of printing, had signs of exposure to severe Psychic assault, and the Pokémon had been beaten up thoroughly. One, a furret, had been sent hurtling through a tree, snapping the magnolia clean in half. The perpetrator was nowhere in sight, and nobody witnessed what had happened.

Author's Note: Apply the right lever, and people are capable of doing terrible things. Such is human nature.

This chapter and the last occur semi-simultaneously, by the way, in chapter-and-scene order. That is to say: the talk in the cave precedes the shopping trip precedes Mt. Pyre, and so on.