Lane felt a little better after she got some coffee in her system. Her mom could caution her as often as she wanted about how her body wasn't built to eat human food, and how much happier she would be if she just accepted that plants were all she was meant to eat. But Korina wasn't the one out here saving the world.
Let her complain about Lane's diet all she wanted while safely surrounded by luxury. At least she got to watch Shiloh struggle through her breakfast. It wasn't morning, but a bowl of cereal seemed like the thing right then. What was she supposed to pick when an entire continent had lost its mind, and flying types were spreading the infection all over the world.
She'd seen the projections now, running on every news-station. There just weren't enough humans to guard every coast, and prevent the infected from reaching them. Once they did, ordinary Pokémon would be compromised, and the pattern spread. Even legendaries weren't immune.
"You should know, it's... not that embarrassing to be attracted to him." Lane untied the scarf she'd stolen from Mewtwo long ago from where it was wrapped around her ankle, tying it off in her hair instead. She didn't sit anywhere in particular so much as float there, bobbing slowly up and down. "You can't help it."
"Because you tampered with my mind?" Victini asked. She heated the air around her warmer than any summer, but at least she had mastered her powers well enough not to burn the building down.
That was a narrow thing, not something she could take for granted with some of the humans she had transformed. Particularly with someone so powerful and so passionate, Lane couldn't underestimate the danger Shiloh might present if Lane herself was unobservant or exhausted. Kind of like right now.
"No, I did—I mean, technically I guess I did. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to control the body you're in. Had to rewrite your autonomic nervous system... but I didn't change any of the important things. Your personality, your hopes and dreams and fears—that's all there. It will just change as you spend more time in your new body."
She crossed her legs in front of her, finishing her second mug of coffee. The tiredness was finally fading now. A few more minutes, and she would feel well enough to face Mewtwo. But not yet.
"You changed things," the little Pokémon squeaked. She floated, almost in control of her position. At least until she smacked into Lane's arm, and started drifting off at an oblique angle. "You're sitting there like that, but I thought Celebi looked cute. You did that."
Lane stood, waving her dirty dishes into the sink. Then she scooped her daughter carefully into her arms, and made her way to the stairs. The victini could fly her own way there, and she did, though her path took her bouncing and sliding over dusty photographs instead of straight there. "Well that's kinda what I meant. Not a lot about mythical Pokémon breeding is understood by science, since we're so rare."
There was only a single bedroom upstairs, hers. The closet hung open with outfits to fit a wide variety of different ages and maturities, though most of it was pretty girly. Lane had long since come to accept that part. "I can tell you what I've figured out. We're interested in things that are powerful, and... differences, too. Elisa and I go well together because she's wild and I'm domesticated. Whether he's male or female at the time—"
She shrugged, then waved one outfit out from within, and quickly got dressed. "There are all kinds of powers that can be interesting. Dominic is strange and different for all of us. I never really—felt those things for him. I think we were just friends for too long to ever think of him that way. Elisa and I were together before we were Pokémon."
"You don't have to talk about that, Mom!" Aspen had been silent for most of that conversation, watching from the floor while Lane dressed. But now she looked up from Lane's ankles, frustrated. "I know you two were close, but it's embarrassing!"
"Sorry, sweetheart." She scooped the little hedgehog up onto her shoulder, then held out her arm for the victini. She had a feeling if she tried to grab that little Pokémon again, she'd just get herself burned. "I just wanted Shiloh to know it's not embarrassing if she's interested in other powerful legendaries. They might be interested in her, too."
To her surprise, the victini did land on her outstretched arm. "I can't believe I'm hearing this," she said. "A teenager who's a mew is giving me advice about how to date a time-traveling fairy. How about you just change me back?"
"Because we're fighting an ancient organization with incredible resources and several legendary Pokémon, and you're the Pokémon of victory? Look me in the eye and tell me a Pokémon champion could help save a continent of wild Pokémon losing their minds."
She didn't. Instead she curled up, ears folding flat behind her head. "I have resources. Had... the most powerful Pokémon team on the planet. I could help you stop Plasma if you got them back to me."
Shiloh was probably right about that. If they already knew where to go and who to fight, stopping Plasma would be the easy part. "We'll see which ones we can find. Right now—I've left my daughters waiting long enough. Once Goh and Miya are back, we'll talk about returning some of your Pokémon. If you think they would even obey you this way."
She closed her eyes, preparing her mind in focused concentration for the simple teleport she needed. But then the victini nudged her arm. "Wait! Wherever we're going, I have a ghost type—that drone you brought. We shouldn't leave it here."
Lane rolled her eyes. "The only safer place for it to go is now a burning crater thanks to Team Plasma. Don't worry, the locals are friendly. They won't hurt your friend."
Lane took one final moment in front of the mirror. She straightened her hair, let her tail out the back of her skirt. Maybe Mewtwo wouldn't call her a kid this time. Let him look down on her once he got a few kittens of his own.
She scooped an old phone off the dresser, unplugging it, then shoved it into her other pocket. Ordinarily she wouldn't bother with human means of communication, but she still needed a way to stay updated about how the plague was progressing.
She took longer with the teleport than usual, long enough to tweak all the extra variables into perfection. She didn't displace an explosion of air, or produce flashes of light and sound. Not when he would be there. She tightened his stolen bandanna in her hair, then stepped across a continent. It was night on the other side, with moonlight streaming in through plate windows.
It was a fine penthouse, even richer than the last time she'd been here. The other walls were adorned with fine art, and distant classical music echoed from somewhere.
The phone vibrated in her pocket as she stepped inside. Lane glanced briefly down at it, but found the screen was blank. She shoved it a little deeper, stepping slowly through the apartment.
This was no stranger to her, but that didn't mean she would be safe in his company. He had been created as the world's strongest Pokémon. Years of experience had only increased that power. Lane was on a short, short list of Pokémon he even allowed to meet with him on their own initiative. I hope you're here.
The reply came almost the instant she thought it. His mental voice was as perfectly disciplined as everything else about Mewtwo. He could deafen, if he wanted, or erase months of memories on a whim. But the years of abusing that power had passed before Lane even met him. "I am not. But I could be. Why have you come?"
There was neither any point nor any chance of lying to him. The ancient firstborns had their delicate dance of pride and lies, even her mother. It made the older mew furious every time she acted this way, but she continued at it anyway.
"Because my family was kidnapped, the world is falling apart, and I feel completely overwhelmed. Can you help me?"
"Why are we just standing around in an empty room?" Shiloh asked, floating free of her arm. She lifted into the air not far away, then hovered over her shoulder. "Looks nice in here I guess. What is a rich human gonna do for us?"
"I don't think that's who this is," Aspen guessed. "Didn't you listen to Celebi? She's here to ask Mewtwo. I've never actually met him before..."
Lane held her closer, running two fingers through her leaves. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I know him—he doesn't judge the innocent." Depending on the perspective, Mewtwo was either far more merciful than Lane herself, or else far crueler and more utilitarian. He had a great deal in common with Lane, and the other humans changed into mythical Pokémon.
The product of human reasoning, Pokémon instinct, and incredible powers. Maybe that was why they got along.
Something appeared in the darkness ahead of them—a gray figure, reclining on a leather chair. It faced the window, beside an ancient spinning record-player.
"You speak of the Shadow Pokémon spreading from Orre to regions beyond. The viral madness and aggression."
Lane made her slow way across the old wood floor, careful not to disturb any of Mewtwo's things. He kept an eclectic array of objects here—human weapons, old pokeballs, stolen relics from forgotten temples dedicated to Lane's own race. There was no particular theme to any of it, not one detectable to her own lesser mind.
"That, and Team Plasma kidnapping my family. They have two kittens. You... already know what they did with Genesect."
Mewtwo's paw clenched into a fist. "How? I do not know you to be an irresponsible parent."
She stopped just behind the chair. Aspen cowered in her hands, meanwhile Shiloh just did her best to keep pace with her, floating a little to one side. "While I was in Orre trying to find a way to cure the afflicted Pokémon. My mate Elisa, he—he was infected. We're not immune to its effects."
Mewtwo folded both paws together, as though deep in thought. "You are. I may be, through shared ancestry. All psychic types are more resilient, and dark types more vulnerable."
Lane felt a thrill of relief at his words—not because of any particular immunity, she already suspected something like that might be happening, based on the wreckage Plasma used to produce the corruption in the first place. She whimpered, wiping away a tear from one eye. "It w-would've been cool if you mentioned you were working on this too," she whispered, without the clarity of mind to think the words this time. "I thought I was on my own. Even my mother is so distracted, I can't get her to take time away from her work. Like our house is burning down but nobody cares but me!"
She whimpered, drying her eyes on a free sleeve. "D-did you... figure out what to do? How to stop this?"
"Yes, and no. But now is not the time for that conversation."
He levitated something towards her, lifting off the table behind. A little glowing tablet. Its screen flickered for a few seconds, before settling on a satellite image of an airship.
It was larger than most seagoing vessels, a vast construction of advanced materials, concealed above the clouds. "This is the Imperator Vainglory, center of Plasma's research on Legendary Pokémon. There are coordinates attached."
Lane caught the tablet, turning it over. She ran fingers over the glass, eyes wide. "You've known about this?"
"For years," he answered. "I know a great many things, child. I never know when one of them might be useful."
Lane squinted down at the little line of numbers there at the bottom. They were changing, but not quickly. The airship mostly held its orbit, meaning a nuclear reactor of considerable power. Out over the ocean somewhere, beyond the reach of laws or Pokémon to stop them. "You're giving me this—means you aren't going to help?"
He chuckled. "You have a Victini in desperate need of training. Where else will she get it?" He turned towards her, eyes intense. "But do not think I have forgotten what you did to Akiko. We will speak of her too, in time."