Lane appeared outside the nursery, ears flat and tail drooping. She nearly fell out of the air from the effort of the simple teleport, but caught herself a few inches from the damp jungle floor.
She touched both paws against it, breathing in the familiar heat and damp of the Guyana jungle. When the world was insane, at least she had some small refuge.
The building might be human-sized, but it was so well-concealed that she had no fear of the location being discovered. She'd chosen a rocky chasm so far from any large settlements that workers had to be helicoptered in. It meant the building enjoyed full access to the beauty and warmth of the local environment, while appearing fiercely dangerous to anyone who happened to float by.
Time to see what I'm working with. Lane was proud of almost all her decisions—she was proud of the kittens she'd recruited, she was proud of her careful management of funds, and construction of safe-places like this for creatures on the edge of the human and Pokémon worlds to interact. Because of her, or Pokémon like her, the Firstborn would recover their floundering population and one day emerge as a civilization again.
In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have decided to punish a reckless human in a way that left her so incredibly weak. Her mom made it look so easy, but making legendaries just wasn't.
They'll know I'm here by now.
Lane lifted back up, running her paws through the unruly mess of fur where human hair would've been, trying to groom it back into place. If that one little patch didn't grow faster than the rest to spite her...
She heard splashing from not far away, enough to bring a genuine smile to her face. Maybe the world outside was self-destructing—in this refuge, her kittens were safe.
From this side, there was little to see of the building—a few windows carefully concealed in the rock, and patches of local flowers. Gracideas grew in plenty, though these had to be kept in buried pots of imported soil, and carefully tended by visitors.
I could fly off with them for a few years, let the world solve its own problems. That was what all the other Pokémon did, unless their homes were threatened. Was she any better?
She followed along the rock wall, floating high enough to find an opening. It was ten feet off the ground, cut into an overhang chosen to be as difficult to climb as possible. It was too small for any human to use even if they did reach it, just big enough for the largest Shaymin she knew.
Once inside, the structure became obvious—half luxury resort poolside, half sheltered cave. Mirrors reflected real sunlight into the space, which was lined with cultured moss and various edible plants. She had picked them all to help her kittens grow up big and strong.
There was plenty of space out here to run around, or fly around. There was even a second pool, large enough for humans or water-types. But she rarely found anyone using it, and that was the case today.
All three of the nursery's current occupants were at the smaller, shallower pool—more of a puddle really, since it wasn't even a foot deep. The contractors might've looked at her like she was crazy when she gave them the blueprints, but it saw far more use than the other one.
None of her kittens could change shape yet.
But there were others here. The nursery tended to such a low population that its occupants stayed together. Even Akiko was here, with a laptop perched on those narrow white legs, typing away in a pool-chair.
She pretended not to be watching the kittens, but Lane knew better. When Miya fell into the pond a few months ago, Akiko had been there to pull her out.
They weren't all kittens, of course. Her eyes went instantly to Aspen, who was easily twice the size of the nursery's other two residents. But growing up was easy when you only needed to wear a flower to make it happen.
"Hey everyone!" Lane landed beside the little pool. She forced a smile, kept her face full of enthusiasm. Mew usually shared their emotions freely with the Pokémon around them, but some habits were hard to break.
"Lane!" Miya and Goh exclaimed, nearly in unison. The two of them were about the same size despite a very different duration as guests here. She could only tell them apart visually because of Goh's strange pastel blue coloration.
They were both damp—but they were also flying on their own. She let them greet her with affection, even if it left her fur a little wet. "Did you fix Orre yet?" Miya asked, the first to break away.
She chuckled, pushing the two kittens gently to the poolside. Once they were over moss instead of water, they couldn't try to drag her down. "If it was that easy, I would have by now. Unfortunately not." She didn't bother explaining further—these little creatures lived somewhere too safe to have to worry about it.
"How are our guests?" she asked. "Not causing trouble, I hope? I know you'll keep them in their place if they try to act up."
The two shared a look, shrinking back from her. They had learned enough over the last few years that she couldn't sense their thoughts directly anymore, not without effort. But their anxiety was in their scents.
"How long are they staying here?" asked Goh. "The red one hasn't even left her bedroom."
Lane lifted a little higher, separating from them. The kittens would cuddle for hours if she let them. But Orre didn't have that kind of time.
"They just got changed, what do you expect?" asked Aspen, her voice annoyed. The shaymin remained stubbornly on the floor, climbing slowly out of the water. "You two should know better. You've been other things."
Miya made an uncomfortable mewing sound that wasn't quite words, provoking a glare from the young shaymin. "It's weird in there. The red one isn't so bad, she just lays around. But the dark types make it feel..." She shivered, drifting away from Lane. "I don't like it," she finished lamely.
She didn't have time to waste keeping her new guests in line. That would just be letting "Champion Shiloh" win. And I win by saving as many people as possible.
Lane looked to Aspen, pleading. "You don't have the same weaknesses as your sisters. I need you to keep an eye out for them in the next few days. If anything happens, call me."
She rolled her eyes, backing away from Lane. "They wouldn't be a threat if you hadn't brought them here, Mom. Why'd you have to change them in the first place?"
Lane didn't answer, floating past her towards the open doorway. She wasn't going to explain herself in front of the other kittens. Aspen was as sincere as she was wrong.
But Lane knew what she'd be dealing with. The best way to keep this from getting out of control was cementing her position for the new arrivals instantly, leaving no room for rebellion.
Or I could do what you want, Mom. You wouldn't bother fighting with them, you'd just erase the memories you didn't like.
Lane grew taller as she neared the door, until she landed on a pair of bare feet. She took her usual human shape, not one calculated for intimidation. Sixteen or so, with a long pink braid that went well down from her back, almost to the floor. She had a simple soft jumpsuit, modeled after the outfits worn by the ancient Firstborn crew that had first colonized this planet.
Of course it couldn't be exactly like that old jumpsuit, but it was close enough, right down to the black and white fabric, with little pink accents around the collar and cuffs. Still no shoes, since the original outfits had been for Pokémon. Maybe she should add some.
"I'll talk to them," Lane said. This time she spoke out-loud. Not that she couldn't still use telepathy of course, but it was good to give the kittens practice with multiple kinds of speech. The last thing she wanted was raising them to be inflexible. "Give us a few minutes of privacy, please."
"Are you staying tonight?" Goh asked, floating along near her head-level. "You haven't stayed for weeks."
Since the dark Pokémon started killing each other, no. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I wish I could. But there's a professor in Johto who thinks they have a lead on helping the crazy Pokémon. Something about an old shrine... I'll have to go investigate it."
Before they could argue, Lane advanced through the open doorway.
She felt the effects of it instantly; a pervasive dark power that suffused the world in all directions. There were no mysteries about why, not when the inside of her nursery was so obviously transformed.
It looked incongruously like she had just stepped away from the carefully hidden cavern and onto a beach on Alola somewhere. It stretched off in all directions, with sands warmed under a tropical sun. Attractive human figures sunned themselves in various stages of undress. Others served drinks, or held exaggerated fans over a figure sitting in the sun.
Someone sat on an oversized beach-chair, a few feet from the water. Girls stood to either side, sunning him with giant palm-fronds in a steady rhythm. That was where she'd expected to find the champion...
Instead, there was a little fox sitting there, curled up on the seat. Despite his surroundings, he radiated melancholy and confusion. He barely seemed to see where he was sitting.
"You've learned your powers more quickly than any Pokémon I've ever met," Lane said. She moved slowly, casually reaching ahead of her with one hand. She tried to hold the real appearance of her nursery in mind, though she couldn't see it.
Illusion could fool all of the senses, if she let it. But it couldn't change the physical dimensions of the room. Creating space where there was none was the domain of a far mightier creature.
"Not me," said the fox. He shifted in his seat, settling onto his haunches. He watched Lane approach without moving. And he was right—Lane had a hard time reading dark powers compared to other kinds, but she could read him. All this power was coming from somewhere else.
"I see." She felt ahead with one hand, moving through the hallway into a large kitchen. She touched a polished metal counter, rather than banging right into it.
Finally she reached him, and dropped down onto the sand a short distance away. One of the palm-girls stepped aside for her—the other kept at her work, dutifully fanning the little fox. "Do you know why I put you here?"
He glared up at her. "You attacked us when the champion wanted a battle."
One hand clenched into a fist. "Do you know how many humans interact with legendary Pokémon each year, Briar Blackwell?" He shook his head once, and she went on. "Dozens, hundreds maybe. But you only hear about a handful. Do you know why that is?"
She didn't wait for an answer this time, but leaned in close to him, over the side of the chair. "Because we're dangerous. You don't get a battle from the other Pokémon like me. Everything you think you know about advantages and moves and types—put it aside."
Unless you brought similar powers of your own to the table, she privately added. The same rules still applied to her, and the other creatures like her. They were just an order of magnitude more extreme.
Her eyes snapped to the side, and one hand flicked out. She caught the wrist of the nearby girl, making her drop the palm-fronds. The illusion faded in an instant, and the world transformed. Suddenly they were in the kitchen, sitting on the floor. The girl beside her was just as huge, but now she was a towering, powerful Pokémon, with claws inches from Lane's neck.
Claws held in her iron grip. "Please don't attack me," she said, with the weight of command. "If you do, I will have to take you away from him."
The Pokémon didn't struggle. Even a dark-type could recognize what she was. She certainly wasn't doing anything to conceal her power. It spoke back to her—not in English, but then Briar wasn't using that either. "Master is small," she said. "I am raising, protecting him. Don't hurt him."
Lane let go, then stood. She was about equal in height with this Pokémon. What little she could feel of her mind seemed quite intelligent and aware for a Pokémon. The kind who would be excellent at reading humans.
"You feel like a mother to him? You want to protect him?"
The Pokémon nodded again. "Always have. Now looks reflect the way he was inside. Getting into trouble, not looking out for himself. Mischief, just like when I was small."
Lane didn't flinch. "Those Pokémon outside are my daughters in the same way. Leave them be, and I will leave him. Agreed?"
She relaxed, and so did Lane another moment later. For a second she thought this dark-type was going to try and battle her for dominion over the group.
"You can't let her go!" Briar called, as Lane turned. "Make her change me back! Make her let us go!"
The zoroark laughed—a harsh, barking sound. "That seems like a bad idea, master. I lose, and you are on your own."
The beach chair reappeared, and the distant ocean. "Little foxes should not have big stress."
Lane stopped, spinning slowly to face the fox again. "I've got some sympathy for you. You did a bad job picking your friends. Now here you are living with the consequences. Maybe I should've put all that power into you, instead of your friend. It just seemed..."
She shook her head. "I can let you go whenever you want. But I'd think a long time about when you do that—do you want to get caught by a trainer somewhere? That's what they've been doing for hundreds of years."
He fell silent, watching the ground. In a few seconds, his pride was broken.
You're just used to this. You always listen to more important people.
"Will you ever change us back?"
She shook her head once. "If you want to do that, practice your illusions. The really hard part will be tricking people into hearing real words, but I think it's possible. At least you'll have a good teacher."
She turned away, striding purposefully down the hall and into the bedrooms. They were all located on one wall of a single room, a dozen little spaces with Pokémon-sized openings. A few had ramps leading up or down to the ground, but most didn't.
It was her best imitation of the amazing carpet the ancient Firstborn had used, recreated from data she recovered from the ruined ship. It felt just as wonderful on bare human feet as it did on paws.
The lights came on for her as she stepped into the main space. She scanned the cubby openings, searching for a shut door. Her guest either hadn't figured out how, or didn't care.
Lane dropped to her knees in front of the bedroom, rapping her knuckles on the wall. Loudly enough to rattle the little creature curled up there.
This one wasn't hard to read at all—there was no darkness clouding her mind, or comparatively powerful Pokémon lurking nearby. He might be a master of the world's Pokémon, but now he was alone.
Or she was, more precisely. Males worked differently for mew, as much an elected office as a physical sex. One she didn't have, or know how to create in other mythicals.
The Pokémon didn't look up. She twitched, then curled up tighter, determined to avoid Lane.
She didn't have time for this. "Your name is Shiloh, isn't it? I went through some of your things..." She gestured, summoning a simple electronic device into the air in front of her. She only had to teleport it a few feet, from the drawer she had stored the confiscated possessions.
It was a phone, far more advanced and expensive than anything she'd owned when she was human. It also had a cracked screen. When she switched it on, it displayed a trainer ID—Shiloh Lehman, along with a scrolling list of badges, and various other bits of data.
That got her attention. Those huge ears twitched, then Shiloh flopped to the side, glaring up through the opening at Lane. "You're the girl... the mew," she squeaked. "The one who attacked me."
Lane nodded. "I'm the one who was researching the only way to free the minds of Pokémon infected by the hostile pattern. You destroyed my data, by the way. My computer expert is working to reconstitute what she can, but it might take her weeks."
The little Pokémon finally sat up. Her wing-shaped tail twitched once, soft feathers opening. She looked lighter already, but she didn't actually start flying.
The air was always hot and damp, just the way kittens liked it. But it felt like the room was already getting warmer.
I'm dealing with a fire type. If only she had met Victini more often, she might be able to give the little Pokémon some advice.
"Give that back," she demanded, extending both paws towards Lane.
She smiled, lowering it gently through the opening. "You should know I have a transmission dampener over this whole area. You won't get a wireless or satellite signal anywhere near this nursery."
The victini dropped her phone to the carpet in frustration. "How fucking dare you do this to me!" she exclaimed. There was real heat to her words, and not just from the anger. But that was obvious too—the Pokémon had no idea how to hide her feelings, so she wasn't even trying.
"You shouldn't just get caught for this—you deserve to get locked up. You're a danger to people everywhere. One day I'm going to expose you. Next time we battle, I'll make sure there's no way for you to cheat. I'll—"
Lane vanished. She reappeared inside the bedroom, back at her normal size. She pounced the tiny victini, tackling her against the wall, and pressing her paws up against her chest. The bedroom had soft padding on its surfaces, even the roof, so the impact would only disorient.
She bore her teeth anyway, in the scariest sign of Pokémon anger she could manage. Maybe she should've changed into something more threatening than a little cat. "People are dead, Shiloh. Humans and Pokémon too. Hundreds of them."
She lowered her head to the Pokémon, furious with anger. But she didn't bite—instead, she sent memories.
Lane blasted her with everything she had seen floating over Orre, and felt. The pain and rage of hundreds of Pokémon, killing each other without reason. The terror radiating from a human convoy, fleeing for the coast with naked desperation. The last sights of the dying, before they were cornered by wild Pokémon and killed.
It took only a split-second, but the effect was just as immediate. Shiloh's body went limp, the heat vanished from beneath her, and her mouth hung open. She moaned, covering up her face with her paws. Of course that did nothing—the memories were hers now too.
Giving them instead of taking, Mom. Much nicer this way.
Lane settled onto her haunches, looming over her. "I know you didn't cause this directly. But if you hadn't interfered, I would probably have a solution by now. That suffering is still happening because of you. Tell me which of us deserves to be punished?"
Shiloh whimpered, curling up again. But she didn't seem to want Lane to see her like that, because she soon forced herself into a standing position. She was taller than Lane when she floated vertically like that, though still far smaller in volume. "Why did you do this to us?"
"The others would've just killed you for attacking them. You think the only reason no one catches legendary Pokémon is our rarity?" She shook her head sharply. "The lucky ones get changed. Not usually like you—but your friend. I could've stuck you in the body of a pichu, dropped you in the forest surrounded by monsters. No matter what happened, you'd never hurt anyone again. Would you like that instead?"
An empty threat, of course. Even a little baby mythical Pokémon had certain innate powers, and would attract the attention of Lane's equals if she did anything to harm her.
But the Pokémon champion didn't seem to know that, because she wilted, retreating in the little bedroom until she was up against the desk.
Desk for a mew anyway. A little raised space where a computer console could be accessed or snacks could be munched. "I have enormous resources, Mew. I have wealth, connections in a dozen regions. Whatever price you ask for my humanity, I pay it. And for my friend too. Briar doesn't deserve to be here."
"Pay?" She tensed, her tail whipping violently behind her. Just once, before she had her emotions back in check. She needed to control her anger, or the kittens outside would start sensing this argument through the wall. "The only thing I want is help cleaning the mess you made. Do that, and I'll consider changing you back."
Another empty promise. But if her victini somehow managed to save Orre, she would probably be powerful enough not to want to change back.
"I don't know how to do that," Shiloh said, slumping to the floor. "I could've helped you better if I was human." She kicked the edge of her phone with a paw. "Even without your block, this is useless to me. I can't ask for help looking like this. I know many Pokémon professors, but they would not be able to understand my requests."
"Learn your powers," Lane said, lifting up off the ground. "You're a Pokémon master, right? You know what victini are supposed to do. You had the jacket." She tilted her head to one side, biting her tongue. "I definitely got the colors wrong. You're white, not yellow. When I have more energy, I'll fix you."
"No!" Shiloh screamed, suddenly hot all over again. "I don't want you doing anything else to me! If you're not going to change me back, then leave me alone! You won, Mew! I'm never going to be the real Pokémon champion! I get it, this is your revenge! I tried to put you in a poké ball, so now you put me in this prison!"
The heat was so intense that Lane projected a little bubble around herself without thinking—so intense that the carpet started to smoke where Shiloh's paws touched it.
Lane could do it—she could feel the little mind there. In only a few days, she had grown into the new space, far larger than any human or common Pokémon. She could make adjustments, make this pokemon into someone useful.
She didn't, though. Even Korina had only threatened her. She could never carry out those threats. "Do you know how to swim, champion?" she asked, exasperated.
Shiloh raised her voice a little louder. "Of course I do! Why would you care, Mew? You don't care what I want! You don't care about anyone but your little vision of yourself as the savior of a whole region. Well I'm not about to—"
The Pokémon vanished from in front of her. She could barely make out the splash of water from outside, and the hiss of steam.
"You need to cool off," she whispered, to the empty bedroom.
Then she floated out, feeling a little better. She should still have a few hours for a nap before Professor Kudo called...