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"What the f-" Nol managed through shortening breaths as she stepped backward, the snarling 7-foot beast staring into her eyes like an executioner. The thicker, brown fur around its neck and shoulders draped down like a lion's mane, covering rippling arm and shoulder muscles. The warm, sickly scent of red meat wafted from its dripping maw as it leaned ever closer to the stumbling newman. Before long, she found her back to the wall, the bear closing the gap with the measured, threatening urgency of a man with a knife in a horror film.

"Tapas! Nuzzle!" she attempted to scream, though her voice caught in her throat and she managed barely a squeak. With a sound like a metallic scream through a microphone, the two parts of Tapas's white metal body began to spin around one another, and sparks began to crackle in between. The bear turned to face the PokéCell and let out a low growl. It held its two paws in the air and exhaled - as it did so, the five sharp claws on either hand turned the color of polished steel.

With an electronic whine, Tapas lunged toward the bear, but the bear deftly batted the drone away with its metal claws. Tapas's left half smacked against a hanging lamp and shattered the bulb, casting the living room area into a sunset-colored half-light.

How did a fucking bear get in my apartment?! Nol finally thought to herself. There's no way that thing could've fit through her front door, and she was a dozen floors up - she doubted very much that it climbed.

In the dim light, the incandescent shocks of Tapas's Nuzzle attack blinded Nol momentarily. She heard a thump and a roar as Tapas retreated, his attack having successfully connected. The bear's muscles twitched as though they'd been shot with a taser; despite this, the bear stood firm on its hind legs, raring to go.

"Enough."

Suddenly, Nol was very aware of a man standing on the other side of the room, leaning against the kitchen wall. His body was half-shadowed, his beady blue eyes peering out from the darkened shade of his sculpture-esque brow. How long had he been there?

Without thinking, Nol reached for the pistol tucked into her waistband, but before she could point it at the man, she found herself staring down his own.

"Put it down, I'm not here to hurt you."

She knew that voice.

"Bernie?"

"Return, Ursaring," the man said. The bear barked affirmatively and dissolved into a pale, white light. "Sorry about the bulb."

"What are you doing in my apartment? How did you find me?"

"Ms. Rinale, you leave more tracks than a Ponyta in a dry cornfield."

He knows who I am.

For a moment, the two stared at one another in shared silence, before the one called Bernie stepped forward into the living room and sat down in Nol's recliner. He smiled at her and meaningfully gestured toward the seat next to his. It was a warm, genuine smile - try as she may, she could never get a read on this one. Warmth was not something she'd grown to expect from him. But then again, he had always been full of surprises.

"I've just made some tea. Would you like some?" Nol offered her guest.

"Yes, please and thank you."

Nol poured two more cups of tea and brought them over, setting one for Bernie down on the coffee table. As she sat, she smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt instinctively, as if cameras were about to roll.

"I cleaned up after you, at the hospital," Bernie started, "You should be glad that the troops are stretched so thin, but thanks to your little act, you probably won't be able to get back in there. Nor will I, which…is highly inconvenient for me. You've cost me a great deal of time."

"I'm flying blind, Bernie," Nol snapped, "I can't help it if I step on your toes. And you refuse to tell me what you know, so, pardon me for trying to find answers on my own."

Bernie sipped his tea and thought to himself for a moment. In the quiet, Nol could hear Tapas rummaging around in the closet - after a time, it chirped in delight as it floated over to the living room and extracted the remains of the broken lightbulb from the hanging lamp. It twisted a replacement into place and then returned to the kitchen to grab a broom and dustpan.

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt, Ms. Rinale. What you did was stupid."

"But I got something I needed," Nol explained. "An eyewitness account. The monsters are real."

"You need to stop. Drop this story. No good can come of what you are doing."

"I can't do that."

"Nol-"

"Bernie," she said, terse. "The people deserve to know they are being lied to. The people deserve to know what happened to Overture 1. The people deserve to know whether we're going to be spending the rest of our lives in this godsdamned orbital tomb."

"And what will that accomplish, right now?" Bernie shot back. "What do you want, a mutiny?"

"Closure, Bernie!" Nol shouted. "Everyone on this ship has loved ones on the 1. Do you not see how cruel it is to dangle false hopes in front of every person on this ship? To know that everyone on the 1 is fucking dead and to stay completely quiet about it?"

Bernie set his teacup down and stood, stretching his arms. He walked over to the dark glass window and stared out into Residential Block Green, a long, narrow metal road dimly lit in piercing greens and oranges. Groups of civilians milled around the small "park" in the middle of the block. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen children playing since the 2 circularized its orbit around Golra. Since the explosion.

"I'll make you a deal, Nol," Bernie relented. "I will tell you what you want to hear from me. But I need you to bury the story."

"I won't-"

"Just for now," Bernie interrupted her, holding up his hand. "No one is going to scoop you on this."

"You can't know that."

"You don't know that," Bernie replied wryly.

Nol clicked her tongue. "Tell me your name, then."

"Bernie."

"Your real name. You know mine, it's only fair. I can't trust you otherwise."

"Fine," Bernie gave in. "My name is Boaz. Boaz Woldt."

"Boaz?" Nol said in disbelief. "I'll just call you Bernie."

"I appreciate that," Bernie joked.

He sat down in the chair across from Nol. Tapas had returned from its cleaning tasks and now hovered over Nol's shoulder in its default following pattern, its eight red eyes glowing constant and dim.

"Who do you work for?"

Bernie eyed the PokéCell over her shoulder. If she weren't trustworthy, he was already fucked. She had his face, his name, his presence in Block Green - all live and recorded, in Tapas's digital brain.

"I'm a private investigator. I'm contractually obligated to not expose the identities of my clients."

"Okay, good," Nol said, with a bit of relief in her voice. This was the most information she'd ever gotten out of the man named Boaz. She could tell that he, too, was a little more comfortable. "Tapas, could you leave us?"

"Yes, ma'am," the PokéCell beeped. It soundlessly floated over to Nol's bedroom door and entered, pushing it shut with small bursts of air. Satisfied that its surveillance capabilities had been pacified, she returned to her conversation.

"Have you been down to the surface?" she asked. It was the same question she'd asked the first time they met - the first time he'd shown up to warn her to stay away. Of course, he would never answer her either way.

"Yes."

Suddenly, Nol had no idea what to say next. She'd never gotten this far. A thousand questions competed for her attention.

"Where, on the surface?"

"Overture 1."

Seven years prior, Overture 1 arrived at the planet Golra. The planet was a miracle planet, located in just the next stellar neighborhood over from Earth. The atmospheric composition, determined via telescope, was actually more favorable for human and Pokémon alike than Earth had ever been. Analysis of the waters found the water to be almost perfectly pure by nature, drinkable even directly from the streams. The native Pokémon roaming the forests and plains were incredibly docile, almost naive - like newborn pups witnessing their mothers for the first time upon encountering the colonials of Overture 1. Like they had no concept of predator or prey - like they had every reason to trust these new creatures from the sky.

Upon landing, the Overture 1 became the first human settlement on Golra. Up until Overture 2 arrived in orbit seven years later, there was no reason to believe that Golra wasn't a perfect home.

"It was empty. Completely empty. Everyone was gone," Bernie recalled.

"Was it destroyed?" Nol inquired, "The explosion must've done some serious damage."

"That's…the thing, though, Nol. It wasn't. If I hadn't seen the explosion with my own eyes - you'd never be able to convince me anything had happened there at all. There were no burns. No debris. The grass looked as fresh as it probably ever had. Everything looked picture perfect - but everyone was gone."

"What about the breeders?"

"Gone. All gone. Even the Dittos were gone. Their Poké Balls were filed away, left exactly where they'd been the whole trip over from Earth. But they were all empty. It's like every living thing in the city just…vanished."

Nol leaned back against the couch. What she was hearing didn't make any sense, and yet, she knew Bernie was telling the truth.

"And you didn't see…any bodies." That was the part that sent a chill down Nol's spine.

"No. No one has. Well - no one that I've talked to."

"Why do you think the Champion hasn't made a statement about this yet?"

Bernie shrugged. "Because he's just as clueless as the rest of us."

An abandoned city. Vanishing Pokémon. And murderous monsters with human faces. So much for paradise, Nol thought to herself.

"And the native wildlife," Bernie remembered, "was supposed to be peaceful. I've seen the videos, I've read what was recorded in the Golra Pokédex. Not a single mention of aggression, not toward humans, not toward anything. But when we went down there…they were beating on the glass doors trying to get to us. It was like they were rabid."

"The demeanor of the native Pokémon changed when the explosion happened," Nol concluded.

Bernie nodded. "It doesn't make any fucking sense. None of it does."

In some ways, Nol now understood why everything seemed to grind to a halt when Overture 2 arrived at Golra. The secrecy, the silence. It all made sense. But what purpose would withholding the truth serve in the end? If they told everyone what they knew, then they could kiss anything resembling ship morale goodbye - and after seven years in space, morale was at a dangerous low already. But sooner or later, people would find out anyway - whether because the secret slipped out or because it would one day become apparent that there was no home for them on Golra.

"So that's it, then," Nol sighed. "Not enough fuel to go back home, and everything on the planet wants to kill us. Everyone from the 1 is gone and we don't know where."

She found it difficult to be excited about all of this new information. With every word Bernie spoke, she just felt worse and worse.

For the first time, she considered herself lucky to have had no loved ones onboard the 1.

"I want to see it with my own eyes," Nol said with determination. "Sooner or later, the truth will come out. And I'm the one who is going to write that story. Let me help you. I'm a lot more capable than you might think."

Bernie chuckled. He figured this was where she was heading. "No one gets to the surface without a license. And you don't even have a partner Pokémon."

Nol scoffed. "What are you talking about? I have Tapas."

As if summoned by the sound of its name, the floating white twin orbs came speeding into the room, beeping incessantly.

Bernie stood and started to make his way toward the front door, having little else to share and satisfied that these secrets would remain so, for now. As he was about to exit, he turned his head toward Nol.

"Ms. Rinale, I'm saying this with nothing but care for your self-preservation - you and that tin can would get torn to pieces on Golra. Thanks for the tea."

As suddenly as he had appeared, Bernie was gone.


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