Here's the longest chapter thus far of Crisis of Faith (a little over 5,000 words.) It also contains probably the most action of any chapter up to this point, so I enjoyed writing it.

Additionally, if anyone wants to talk to me on Discord, you can find me at SnowLabrador#7822. I accept all friend requests, unless I have reason to think you're a troll. Anyway, enjoy!


BRYANT FOREST, 18

To call the next few days "unpleasant" would be the biggest understatement in the history of the world.

It's hard to describe exactly what it's like until you have been through it yourself. Not only did I no longer have a place to go back to, but the church sanctuary itself served as a source of sensory overload.

Every hour, there was either the sound of a baby crying, multiple babies crying, or someone else talking. Okay, this happened several times an hour; whenever the infants would whine about something, this would continue until their need was met.

For the most part, I remained seated with my parents on one side of the sanctuary. My back grew increasingly stiff, as did my legs, and I wanted nothing more than to stretch those parts of my body. I would have loved to walk around the exterior of the church, even if it wasn't glamorous.

But I couldn't. The chamber was just too crowded, so this couldn't be done without stepping over a lot of people and Pokémon. More than that, the Gardevoir lady warned us not to go outside. It was too dangerous, she said.

"The roofs of the houses here aren't regulated very well, and they're now on pretty shaky ground," she told us. "Also, there's no telling what nasties might be in the rivulets of water on the ground."

Somehow, the church hadn't been flooded; it was probably the building in the Zoness district with the strongest foundation. But this served as a stark reminder that the outside world was a potential death trap.

Being warned about "nasties" made me wonder about my injured feet. They still pained me every step, albeit only slightly, but I felt that I was ready to take the bandages off.

I wasn't an expert in first aid by any means, but my wounds didn't look infected. They weren't red or swollen. So, although I'd really been pushing my luck out there the first night, I had managed to get lucky.

Speaking of nights, they were the worst part of the 24-hour cycles. The sanctuary was spacious, but not when you had to share it with hundreds of others. More than that, when everyone laid down to try and sleep, space became even more scarce.

Every morning, if I managed to sleep at all, I would wake feeling even more tired. And once day came, a completely different type of misery would as well.

The Gardevoir lady gave us constant updates on the outside world. She mentioned that the floodwaters from Fairview had seeped into nearby districts of the city, and that the damage would take years to repair. Protests were erupting all over Moraga City over the government's failure to mitigate the storm's effects.

"I don't understand why they're blaming the government for this," Gardevoir said testily. "The government can't control the weather. Nobody but Arceus can control the weather. This isn't their fault."

I could have issued any number of retorts to that, and so could many of the other refugees, but we kept our mouths shut. After all, the Gardevoir lady was the one providing us with the essentials of life. As far as I knew, nobody was forcing her to do that, so we might as well be grateful.

Most alarming of all, she told us, there were unconfirmed reports of people becoming Pokémon.

"I'll give context, don't worry" she announced, lowering her hands towards the lectern. "Please don't freak out yet."

She cleared her throat again. "These reports have not been confirmed yet. The municipal government has stated that they are monitoring the situation closely, however, and if necessary, they will isolate the transformed just in case it's a disease. There's no need to worry at this time."

Someone else (I think it was Hannah's father, Mr. Izola), rolled his eyes. "What about, I don't know, the Dragonite in the basement? Are you saying we shouldn't be worried about him?"

"Frank Speech is no longer in the basement; he's been taken to the nearest hospital to be tested. I don't envy him at all, but there's next to no risk to any of you."

I immediately got an image in my mind of Frank the Dragonite in a hospital bed, getting poked and prodded with needles, unable to speak the human language. It wasn't a fate I'd wish on my worst enemy, let alone my friend.

"What is he being tested for, exactly?" Freya Speech all but shouted. "I have a right to know this; he's my husband!"

The Gardevoir lady held a finger in front of her mouth, the universal gesture for Shut up!

Then, Gardevoir said, "They'll probably just be testing his blood for any chemical reactions or whatever that might have caused the transformation. But don't worry, they're taking great care of him."

Freya snorted. "Yeah, sticking him everywhere sure sounds like they care."

Right after that exchange between Gardevoir and Freya ended, I started feeling a weird aching sensation in my legs. It wasn't unlike growing pains I'd had as a kid, but I was eighteen now; that shouldn't have been happening anymore.

I immediately chalked it up to having sat in one place for so long. But could that really be the cause?

"I'm worried for Frank" I told my parents, trying to distract myself from my own aches. "They're really going to put him through the wringer, aren't they?"

My mother shrugged. "I mean, perhaps. I know he hates needles, though, so you're right, it must be unpleasant for him."

"It's nice of you that you care about him," my father told me. "I just wish you could have acted the same way towards Hannah."

That hit a bit close to home, and I let my dad know it. "Can we not, please?"

My father sighed. "Okay then. Anyway, how are you holding up, Bryant? I know this has been a trying few days for all of us."

I didn't even hesitate. "Well, my legs ache like crazy; my very bones do. And I feel hot."

"Of course you feel hot," my mother said. "We all do, and you're still in your pajamas that you've been wearing the last few days."

Thanks for reminding me, I thought bitterly, wiping sweat off my brow. A different set of clothes and a shower were what I wanted most at that moment.

"I mean, hotter than I've been the last few days" I replied. "I wonder if maybe…if maybe I have a fever."

My mother frowned, feeling my forehead. "It doesn't feel that way to me. But if you feel sick, you should ask Gardevoir to send you to the basement so that you don't infect anyone else."

Ha. I think that ship has sailed.

"If she thinks I'm contagious, they'll send me to the hospital. And that would be hell for me."

"Well, it's your decision," my father replied.

I pondered it briefly. I didn't want to think about what my symptoms meant, but if I ended up making everyone else in the church sick, I might not be able to live with myself. Ultimately, I decided to heed my mother's suggestion.

So I gingerly walked up to the pulpit. Every step sent a shooting pain up my legs' main bones, as though someone were sticking a sword in through my foot. In addition, I had to hold out my arms like the wings of an airplane in order to stay balanced.

The Gardevoir lady frowned. "What is it, Bryant? Do you need something?"

"I…don't feel so well," I admitted. "My muscles hurt, and I'm just…so…hot."

"Well, of course you're hot, we all are. And of course your muscles hurt, there's no place to move. Tough luck, Bryant."

Suddenly, the blood rushed away from my head as the air grew more and more stiflingly hot. My legs seemed to be overextending themselves, and I gasped in pain.

My vision began to darken, and I grabbed the edge of the pulpit to steady myself. I heard several, or perhaps more than several, gasps from the crowd; no doubt they were watching the whole display intently.

The Gardevoir lady glanced at me, eyes bulging out of her head, as I tried desperately to remain conscious. But my whole world was spinning, as though I'd just gotten off of a broken carnival ride.

Seconds later, I crumpled to the ground in front of a couple hundred onlookers.


When I awoke, I was drenched in what felt like sweat, shivering mightily. My muscles still ached, but not as much as before.

"He might be cold for now, but we'll have to keep applying the ice to him," said a female voice. It sounded like Gardevoir.

Ice. I guess the heat got to me, and I passed out. But that doesn't explain how my legs feel so much more…awkward than usual.

After I opened my eyes, I found that I was lying on the ground in the church's basement. Several people, including a man wearing an N95 face mask, were looking over me as though I were a baby in a cradle.

My cheeks flushed when I realized that my body felt smaller than usual. It was a peculiar feeling, to be sure; what had just happened?

"Bryant, I see you're awake" the masked man said. "You passed out upstairs, so we brought you down into the basement. We're cooling you down right now, but there's something a bit different about you."

Different? Is something wrong with me besides the heat?

"Wh-what's different?" I tried to ask, but my words didn't come out the way I meant them to. This brought to mind nightmares in which I hadn't been able to speak.

"And that's the problem right there" Gardevoir muttered. "You can't speak English, or any human language for that matter. There's a reason for that."

Oh no. What happened to me?

Although I could still think clearly, I wondered if this is what being a newborn felt like. Completely helpless, only able to lie on your back, and unable to communicate with others using words. It felt like I was imprisoned within my own mind.

"Can you stand?" the masked man enquired.

I tried to roll over so that my belly was facing the ground. This took some doing, and my eyes watered when some appendage on the back of my body was seemingly squished against the ground.

That's new. Is that…a tail?

Regardless, it hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to the pain that was still to come.

I stood on my hind legs, only to collapse to the ground again. I landed flat on my back, not only knocking the wind out of me, but also crushing my back appendage once more.

"You might want to be careful with that," the masked man told me. "After all, you have four legs now."

Four legs. Oh no…

I could hardly believe his words, but there was no denying them. That would explain why it was so hard to keep my balance. It would also explain why I seemingly had a tail out of nowhere.

I was a Pokémon. I had become a four-legged creature, potentially as a result of catching what Frank had.

Are they going to take me to the hospital?, I wondered. Am I going to face the same things as Frank?

The Gardevoir lady turned towards me. She smiled, though it was clearly forced judging by the mood of her eyes.

"For what it's worth, Bryant, I could understand you when you asked what was different. I just heard it in a different language than English."

Phew. At least I could communicate with someone here. Maybe not all was lost. When I tried to thank her for reassuring me, Gardevoir shook her head.

"You need to rest. Turning into a Pokémon can be quite draining, and since you're an Ice type now, you're at risk of overheating if we're not careful. That's why you're packed in ice."

"Well, that sucks," I muttered.

Gardevoir frowned. "What did I say about resting?"

Before I could protest, before I could even say anything else, a man I recognized as Mr. Izola, Hannah's father, came dashing into the basement. His hair was sticking on end, as though he'd just been mildly electrocuted.

"I hate to bother you, Gardevoir, but we have a problem upstairs!"

Gardevoir motioned for the masked man to return to the sanctuary with Mr. Izola. "Could you guys work it out together? I'm trying to watch over Bryant here!"

"Why does it have to be me?" asked the masked man.

"Because I can understand and talk to Bryant. You can't. I'm sending you where you're most useful."

The masked man didn't bother arguing with Gardevoir; he simply gestured for Mr. Izola to follow him upstairs. And that's exactly what the two men did, scampering back up the steps towards the sanctuary.

Gardevoir stroked my fur gently, clearly trying to comfort me. "We're going to figure out a way through this," she told me. "This isn't the end of the world."

"It sure feels like it," I said. "Try being an Ice type in a tropical climate. It's not going to work out."

"We can make it work, though. Just make sure to drink plenty of cold liquids and stay indoors as much as you can. You'll have to get used to walking on four legs, too."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're making it sound harder, not easier. You do realize that, don't you?"

"My apologies," Gardevoir responded. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. Just remember that we will be able to overcome this. We live in a society, after all."

"What's the problem Mr. Izola mentioned?" I asked her. "Did something break upstairs?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But you shouldn't worry. Now get some rest; your eyes are already closing."

I had to admit; I was pretty exhausted from the transformation. Gardevoir was right; my eyes were shut seconds later, and I was asleep in less than a minute.

Unfortunately, my slumber wasn't a dreamless one.

I found myself rooted to the spot in the middle of a void. There was nothing there, not even darkness, because darkness would be something.

In the beginning, there was nothing. But then, there came a parade of shadows; that's the best way I could describe it.

Their shapes were ambiguous, but I could practically feel their anger, their hatred. As they marched down an invisible path, fear rose within me.

Suddenly, the scene changed.

Now I had a bird's-eye view of a seaside suburb at night. Rain was coming down hard, cascading in sheets onto the various homes in the town. But it didn't take me long to realize something.

This wasn't just any suburb. It was the Fairview district of Moraga City, which, until recently, had been my home.

The winds started picking up, and I saw the lights of emergency vehicles flashing in several colors, red and blue and orange. Additionally, the sirens were so loud they hurt, but I found myself unable to cover my ears.

Wake up! I heard a voice inside my head scream.

It was just a dream; I wasn't seeing actual events. The best thing to happen would be waking up from this nightmare and never thinking about it again.

Wake up, Bryant! It's time to go!

The second shout made it feel like I'd been hit with defibrillator paddles. My eyes fluttered open, and I glanced in the direction of the shout.

It had come from an Infernape, who was standing over me in the church basement. The tall bipedal Pokémon radiated warmth, even heat, which wasn't something I liked when it was already hot in the room.

"There you are, Bryant!" the Infernape exclaimed in a voice that sounded decidedly feminine, as well as quite familiar. "I know we've had our disagreements, but we can't worry about those right now!

I frowned. "Infernape, who are you?"

The Infernape rolled her eyes. "You know who I am. Whose path do you keep crossing, even when you don't want to?"

I could hardly believe the Fire type's words. "H…Hannah?" I mouthed, wondering if I was still dreaming.

She nodded. "Don't ask me how, but I think I got what you had. Doesn't seem to have exhausted me as much as you - you slept for a long time."

"Gee, thanks for pointing that out" I replied dryly. "Are you going to make fun of me for that?"

"What? No" Hannah responded. "But we really do have to get going; the protest starts in fifteen minutes, just outside of Zoness."

"We're going to the protest? Hannah, that sounds like a terrible idea! Police could be there to quell it!"

"As long as they're not violent, we'll be fine" the Infernape insisted. "And they won't be, since they know there are people beneath these fur coats."

I wished I could have shared Hannah's optimism. Unfortunately, I couldn't.

"Do you have signs ready?" I asked. "And plenty of water?"

She nodded. "You don't have to worry, I've got that all covered. Although I don't think you can carry a sign very well as a Glaceon."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not going to happen."

It needs to be said that I was still stunned by Hannah's behavior around me. Just a day ago, she'd hated my guts. Now she was enlisting me to take part in a demonstration with her, showing that she trusted me more than she had before.

I wonder what changed.

I managed to sit up again; this time, I didn't try to stand on my hind legs, instead walking on four legs like I had done a few times for fun as a human. I was able to make it work.

"We're going to demand that the government pay reparations to those affected by the storm, and cover their medical bills too. We'll show them that we have strength in numbers; they can't shoot all of us."

"I guess you're right, Hannah. Let's stay in the middle of the crowd, not draw much attention to ourselves. And we'll be fine."

The Infernape smiled. "Exactly."

Walking as a quadruped carried a steep learning curve. The front legs felt almost like arms, but they weren't arms. It's almost impossible to describe to someone who hasn't suddenly grown two extra legs.

"Take the stairs one at a time, Bryant," Hannah advised me. "And if your ears are sensitive, you might want to keep that in mind; it'll be even worse now that you're a Pokémon."

I frowned. "How do you know that?"

"That you have sensitive ears? Bryant, I'm more observant than you realize. You don't have to tell me that."

It was true; sometimes when I was downtown, I experienced sensory overload. But I'd been trying to keep the outward signs of that on the down low during my date with Hannah.

The Infernape eventually frowned. And then she uttered seven words that changed everything.

"Why haven't you told anyone you're autistic?"

My heart dropped like a freight elevator whose chains had been cut. "Why haven't I - what?"

"Just what I said. If you told people that you were on the spectrum, they might be more considerate regarding noise."

I narrowed my eyes. "My parents always told me not to play that card. There's no need to pity me."

"It's not about pity," Hannah replied.

"Then why did you feel the need to mention that? Also, how did you know? Can you really tell just by looking at me?"

"No offense, Bryant, but you gave off a lot of signs. Like at our dinner together, you talked a lot about colors; it seems like you might have an intense interest in them. But we shouldn't worry about that right now."

It was hard to describe how I felt about what Hannah had just said. There was a certain feeling of betrayal present, because being on the spectrum was my "secret" to tell her, not something she had a right to sniff out like that.

On the other hand, maybe she had a point about other protesters not being so loud if they knew my ears were sensitive. But I doubted it.

Anyway, once we were in the sanctuary, I saw that several humans were at the exit, holding signs much like Hannah's. These signs bore slogans such as PREPARATION ADAPTATION, BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!, and others that I can't print here.

"The humans can't understand our speech", Hannah told me. "But we can understand theirs."

I nodded. "I already knew that; don't forget that I became a Pokémon before you did."

Once Hannah, myself, and the humans were outside, my eyes began hurting immediately. In the hot tropical sun, it was as if my face was melting.

Of course. Glaceon is an Ice type, so it makes sense that hot days will be torture for me. I guess that means I'm in for a lot of torture.

Between the heat and my difficulty in getting used to four legs, it didn't take long for me to become short of breath. Most of the rivulets of dirty water had dried up, but that didn't make the trek much easier.

A few of the small children living in the slums poked their heads out of their doors, along with their parents. It seemed that some of them would have loved to join in, but the parents were insisting that their children were too young. In my view, that fear was justified.

Seeing the slums by day was even more sobering than they had been during the storm. As horrible as living in a church sanctuary had been the last few days, it had only been a few days; these people had lived in shacks for potentially their whole lives.

What a depressing existence that would be, especially for someone like me.

Hannah turned to me when we got close to the gate. "Keep your strength up and pace yourself, Bryant! We're going to walk down Pennsylvania Avenue, so it's important that you have the energy!"

"I'm trying, Hannah…I'm trying" I panted. "This is…really hard."

"Don't talk if you don't have to," the Infernape insisted. "We're almost there."

Once we reached the end of the Zoness district, a chorus of voices became louder and louder. I hadn't noticed it at first amidst my exhaustion, but these people weren't just speaking; they were shouting to make themselves heard.

"No justice, do better!" was the first chant I made out. What looked like a raging river of humans and Pokémon was flowing down the road towards downtown.

I guess this is Pennsylvania Avenue. I'm not good with street names, though.

Hannah led the other humans, as well as myself, into a part of the crowd where we would fit. None of the other protesters acknowledged us, but I was stunned at how remarkably well Hannah was able to communicate with the humans in our group, considering that she couldn't talk to them.

The noise was overwhelming, and I wished I'd brought earplugs (not that they were likely to work with a Glaceon's ears.) With every chant of "Preparation over adaptation!" or the classic "Lock them up!", my eardrums felt fit to burst at any moment.

Oddly enough, I found that I had more energy when I was part of a crowd. Being surrounded by others forced me to keep moving, and gave me more strength to do so. Regardless, I was out of breath soon enough from shouting my slogan ("No mitigation without representation!")

There was also something beautiful about all these people together, all shapes, sizes, and in a rainbow of colors. They had all come here for one reason: Their unity in demanding the government do better next time.

Of course, it wasn't all fun and games. Not only was the volume oppressive to my ears, but being shorter made me worry I'd get trampled. That served as another incentive to keep moving, no matter how tired I got.

We marched for an indeterminate length of time. There were no cars on the street; perhaps it had been closed to traffic. Or maybe the drivers all saw the river of people and decided not to bother us. Whatever the case, we faced no opposition until the buildings started getting taller and closer together.

By now the shouting was mixed with the sounds of traffic, and we were forced to squeeze onto the sidewalk. Much like a snake, the crowd grew narrower and longer as it moved to the side of the road.

Despite the heat, despite the general tiredness I was feeling, I couldn't help but smile. I was part of something bigger than myself, something that would ensure Moraga City was better-equipped to handle its next disaster.

It certainly felt good to be doing something, rather than simply lying around and doing nothing at all.

Yes, I've been dealt a bad hand the last few days. But I can't change the past; it's just what happened. So I might as well help these people solve the problem.

Eventually, we arrived at the police precinct, where a group of officers glared at us. Although the crowd was a sizable one, I don't think any of us were under the illusion that attacking the cops would be a good idea.

"Protestors, go home in peace!" one of the officers, a rather fat man wearing sunglasses, shouted. "You're disrupting traffic, which is a crime!"

I glanced at Hannah. The Infernape was several paces ahead of me, but she turned to me at the same time.

"We should leave!" she exclaimed. "It's not worth it!"

I agreed with her, but getting out of this crowd would be easier said than done. We were right in the middle of the "river", and many people still insisted on marching.

"No!" one of the other protesters, whose voice I recognized as Freya's, exclaimed. "You can't just push us back like that!"

One of the police officers raised his baton, as though he were about to strike Freya down. If he did this as an attempt at crowd control, it had the opposite effect.

The crowd went wild, yelling at the cops for not letting them protest in the streets. The first officer who had spoken, the fat guy, spoke up next.

"If you all keep disturbing the peace like that, we'll have no choice but to arrest you. So please, make this easy for all of us, and go home."

They can't shoot all of us. Hannah had said that earlier, and it made sense. Still, it was definitely best for us to get out of the way before the cops resorted to such tactics.

Freya shouted something I can't type here. I get it; she was upset. But as far as I was concerned, cursing at the police was tantamount to suicide when you were involved in such a major protest.

"That's it!" another officer announced. "Lady, come here and kneel down. You're under arrest!"

"We've really got to get going, Bryant!" Hannah shouted at me. "This escalated quickly!"

Again, I knew that she spoke the truth, but I couldn't resist taking a look at what was happening to Freya. When she didn't take one step towards the officers, the cop who appeared most agile came to her.

He kicked Freya in the back, sending her crashing to the ground. Then, when she tried to get up, another cop held his baton over her head, threatening to hit Freya with it.

My heart was pounding, and not just from the extra effort it took to keep me upright in the heat. I'd never expected to witness an arrest, but now it was happening.

Freya's hands were cuffed behind her, and she was read her rights; however, the officer's words could barely be heard over the general outcry.

"Guys, if you don't quiet down, the tear gas is going to come out!" another cop, this one an Officer Jenny, shouted. "And we don't want to have to use it!"

At the threat of tear gas, I didn't need to be warned twice. I turned around and began sprinting through the crowd, not caring how many people I might knock down. Because I knew, from other peoples' stories, just how painful tear gas could be.

The crowd did not quiet down; a hundred yards away from the last person in the line, I could still hear it.


Yes, I call it English even though England doesn't exist in this world. Deal with it. In all seriousness, I didn't feel like coming up with a new name for the language I grew up speaking. Also, the term "people", from here on out, will be used to refer to humans and Pokémon collectively.

Also, if you have any ideas for characters to put in the story, just PM me their profile and I'll fit them in somewhere. I have the outline of the plot figured out, but there's always room for more if people want it.

Thank you for reading this far, and I'll see you all next time.