Sound and Silence

by Geekachu

[discontinued; being rewritten]

7. No One is Prepared

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon.

A/N I know, I know. I've been gone awhile. But I have good reasons, seriously. Anyway, the new chapter . . . kinda sucks. But I tried to make it as good and un-lame as possible, and hey, it's the longest chapter yet! (Though, given the quality, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.)

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

OoOoOoOoO

Chapter 7: No One is Prepared

Route 30, Lyra thought, was a really pleasant sort of place. It had nearly all you could want in a single route, with all its sun and wind and sky and clouds and grass and trees and ponds and bushes and dirt and—

"Marill! You come back here!" Lyra called out, running after her wayward pokémon.

Marill had been very energetic pretty much all day. Lyra had been woken up earlier than she would have liked by him jumping all over her, clearly ready to start their morning. After she had gotten up and moving, he had skipped happily along next to her, saying his name over and over again in a tune to a song that she was pretty sure they'd heard on the radio recently. And then, just after Lyra had been thinking about stopping for lunch, Marill had apparently decided that they needed to pick up the pace, and was now racing down the trail, using his newly-learned rollout. And he was fast.

"Hey, I'm serious! Marill!"

Maybe it was something in her tone of voice that did the trick, because Marill suddenly skidded to a halt and turned around. He gave her a slightly sheepish look, then shuffled back to her side. Lyra put her hands on her hips, and gazed disapprovingly down at him.

"Now see here, mister," she said sternly, "you can't just go running off without me."

Marill adopted a confused expression and stared at her with wide eyes. "Rill marill!" he said innocently.

Lyra furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure that I know what you said, and here's my answer for it: rolling counts as running."

Marill looked as though he disagreed with her. If he had eyebrows, he would have lifted one.

"Okay, fine, Icount it as running." She pointed a finger at him. "And so will you, Smartypants."

Marill stomped a foot. "Mariiiiiiiiil!"

"Oh, don't give me that. Running all the time's not good for you. You might lose weight or something." Lyra tilted her head. "Now that I think about it," she said slowly, "a skinny marill would look really creepy."

Marill's expression went from pouty to horrified in an instant. "M-m-marill?" Clearly, he didn't find the idea of a thin marill attractive either. He looked beseechingly up at his trainer, and held up his tiny arms. "Rill!" he pleaded. The message was clear: Carry me!

Lyra wagged a finger at him. "Uh-uh. If you can run, you can walk too. It's about time you learn to—what's that?"

"Mar?" Marill turned in the direction Lyra was facing, and looked up.

Just above the tree line was a small, blurry shape—if Lyra held up her thumb, she could have blocked it out. It was quickly growing bigger and more defined as it approached them, however. As it got closer, Lyra recognized it as a large heracross. It was moving fast—and heading straight towards them.

Lyra stood gaping at it for several moments before speaking. "Uh, you know what?" she said a little nervously. "We should probably run." And with that, she turned tail and sprinted away. Marill, not needing to be told twice, rolled after her.

OoOoOoOoO

So, how long is it supposed to take before we reach Azalea Town?Quilava asked, as she idly sniffed at a dandelion growing along the side of the trail.

Gold shrugged. I don't know. We've been on Route 32 for what, a week? We'll get to Union Cave in a few days, probably.He tilted his head thoughtfully, then abruptly changed the subject. We need another teammate, seriously.

Quilava looked a little miffed. What's wrong with just me? I mean, it's not like I can't beat up anything that comes in our way. Another teammate, oh please. . . .

Gold wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused at that. Quilava had grown up quite a bit during their journey, which wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't for her insistence that she was big and strong enough to defeat anything and everything, and a team of two was just fine with her, thank you very much.

Oh come on. Company's good for you, and you're not gonna be able to—hold on one second.He'd just gotten a text from Lyra. It was a very short message:

are you there?

A text like that was pretty unusual for her. She normally just gave some sort of friendly greeting, like 'Good morning,' or 'What's up?' Gold typed a quick message back:

yep. hows it going?

Her response came a little more slowly than his had:

prof elms heracross is with me and he has a egg with him and he seems worried and people wont answer my texts and now im worried are you ok?

Gold felt a little dizzy after reading that. He resisted the urge to text back and tell her that her grammar sucked, and instead just said:

can you put it on video chat?

What's going on?Quilava suddenly piped up.

I'm not sure.

Lyra's face quickly appeared on his Pokégear's screen, looking distressed. "Are you okay?" she asked, holding her Pokégear at a far enough distance for her to sign clearly. "You're not hurt or anything, right?"

'I'm fine, everything's fine,'he said reassuringly. 'What happened? And what do you mean, people won't answer your texts?'

Lyra chewed her lip. "When Heracross came here with the egg, he looked really worried, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I don't know what happened, and no one from home answered my calls or texts or voice messages or anything. My dad hasn't even answered, and he neverignores my calls."

'Maybe you're just in a place with bad reception or something,'Gold suggested, though he was frowning doubtfully.

"That wouldn't explain why Heracross is here!" Lyra replied, looking ready to burst into tears (Gold hoped she wouldn't do that). "And the reception here is fine! I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?"

Gold gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together in a firm line, thinking hard. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't received any calls from his mom today. Then again, she was getting pretty good at not calling until late afternoon. 'Okay, okay, let me try calling Mom,'he said. 'No point getting worried about nothing. Just hold on a second.'

He disconnected his call from Lyra and sent a brief hi momtext to his mother. He waited several seconds for a response.

Then a few more.

Then a couple more after that.

His mom was usually a lightning-fast responder to his texts . . . maybe a minute more. . . .

He was reaching the two-minute mark when Quilava made her impatience known. Well, what's going on? Are we gonna get moving again or what?

Gold didn't even bother to look up from the screen. In a minute! I'm kind of dealing with something important right now.

Well, how am I supposed to know that? You haven't told me anything, geez!

Gold gave what he hoped sounded like a very exasperated sigh. Okay, here's the deal. Heracross—you know, the one from Professor Elm's lab—is with Lyra. Lyra doesn't know why he's there, obviously, and she can't get in contact with anyone else.

Oh.Quilava tilted her head thoughtfully. Maybe they're all busy.

Gold shook his head. Lyra said no one would answer her calls. I don't know how many people she called, but they can't all be that busy at the same time.

Why not?

Gold sighed. Just because. It would be weird.

What kind of dumb reason is that?Upon receiving no answer from Gold, she bumped her head against his leg in annoyance. Did you evenask Heracross why he's there? He should know.

Gold stood still for a moment, then rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. I didn't actually really think of that,he admitted. But hey, in my defense, I've never tried talking to a pokémon on a screen before. It might not work.

Quilava rolled her eyes. Well, that's what I'm here for, dummy.

Gold gave an exasperated huff. Since when did you get to be such a smartass?he asked, already calling back Lyra.

Since I started spending time with you. You're a bad influence.

Before Gold could give a suitably snarky response, Lyra's face reappeared on the screen. "Have you heard from anyone yet?" she asked.

'Not yet,'he replied, 'but it's only been a few minutes. I wanted to try talking to Heracross, though.

Lyra smacked her forehead with her palm. "Oh yeah, duh. Okay, here he is."

She turned her Pokégear around to face the bug-type. Heracross gave Gold a wave, and Gold replied in kind. Hey Heracross,he said,what's going on?

Gold wasn't sure if he had been understood. It certainly didn't seem so, because Heracross waited several moments before he began to speak, and when he did, it was with a somewhat questioning look on his face. Gold watched as the pokémon's mouth moved, but he couldn't get any meaning from what he was saying. Gold held up a finger, then turned to Quilava.

It's not working. You talk to him.He turned the Pokégear around so she could see the screen. Quilava looked at the screen and said something into it—what it was, Gold had no idea. After a moment, Quilava turned and gave him a deadpan look.

There's no sound coming from it,she said, looking quite unimpressed.

What? Oh yeah, I guess not,Gold said. But don't give me that look! It's not like I would know that,he said as he fiddled with the contraption, trying to remember how to turn on the volume. After a moment, he turned the screen back towards his pokémon again. Here, try this.

It had apparently worked, for Quilava quickly was able to get into what seemed to be a serious discussion with the other pokémon, judging from the expression on her face. It was pretty interesting to watch—every now and then, Quilava's eyes would widen with surprise, or her forehead would crinkle in confusion, or she would draw up her head in outrage. Finally, she turned back to Gold.

We have a problem.

What happened?

New Bark's been attacked.

Wait, what!? How?

It's not as bad as you think!Quilava hurried to add, not sure whether or not she was telling the truth. Heracross says that most of them were leaving by the time he was getting out of there.

Gold looked at her incredulously. Okay, how exactly is that not as bad as I thought? And who is 'them'? Team Rocket?

How should I know?said Quilava impatiently.It's not like Heracross would recognize them. And you'd better fill Lyra in with what's going on.

Gold nodded briefly and turned back to the Pokégear's screen. Quilava watched as her trainer made rapid gestures at the device, occasionally pausing to let Lyra speak. When Gold hung up about five minutes later, he let out a long sigh and wearily scrubbed at his face. Quilava rubbed her head on his leg in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

So what happens now?she asked.

Gold sighed again. I don't know,he confessed.Lyra's gonna call the police. She said she would call me back if she got any news of anything. I told her about what happened in Violet City—she flipped out for not telling me about that earlier—and I told her to be careful about who she talks to. That's about all I can do, I guess.

Suddenly, Gold felt drained. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, wrapped his arms around his legs, and rested his head on his knees. I feel useless.

Quilava rubbed in head against Gold's arm in a comforting manner. They'll be fine, Gold. Just think about Heracross. He got out of there without a scratch, and with an egg, too. Oh, and by the way,she said, abruptly shifting the subject to safer waters, the egg Heracross was carrying is apparently the same one that we got from Mr. Pokémon. I wonder what it'll hatch into.

Gold recognized a diversion tactic when he saw one, but he didn't complain. I don't know,he replied. Something powerful, I hope. Seeing as Lyra's got it with her, maybe she'll get to keep it. And if she does, it would be a pain to have something like, I dunno, a magikarp. With the way things are going, she'll need all the protection she can get. We all will.

Good point,Quilava said, and Gold detected a somewhat grumpy undertone in her thoughts. So let's hurry up and get a stupid teammate already.

Despite the situation, Gold almost smiled. Oh, so now you want that teammate after all?

Quilava nipped lightly at Gold's sleeve. No,she said tartly. I'm just being kind and selfless and mindful of your psychological well-being. So get up—I want to get this over with.

OoOoOoOoO

It took a few minutes of standing still and staring at the blank screen for Lyra to get her brain in some degree of order. Her thoughts swirled around in her head, trying to make some connections.

First Violet City. Then New Bark Town. Where would they strike next?

Lyra suddenly felt a sharp tap on her thigh, and jumped back with a gasp—only to realize that it was just Heracross trying to get her attention.

"Oh, sorry. I'm a little jumpy right now, I guess. . . ." She rapidly shook her head, as though rattling her brain around would kick it into a higher gear.

"But right, police. I'll call them. That should be easy, right?"

Lyra should have known that things wouldn't go that smoothly—as soon as she'd dialed the first digit, her Pokégear abruptly shut down. "Oh, don't tell me . . ." Lyra turned the gadget back on again, only for it to black out before she could make the call. "You're out of power? Why would you do that!?" she practically screamed into the Pokégear. She unstrapped it from her wrist and flung it into the woods, while the two pokémon watched in concern.

Lyra stood there for several moments, chest heaving. She closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths, then slowly walked over to pick her Pokégear. A weirdly numb feeling was quickly replacing her brief bout of anger, leaving her feeling cold. "Well, guys," she said, "it looks like we can't contact anyone now. Not the police, not someone in New Bark, not Gold, not anyone. We're technologically screwed." She started to pace back and forth along the width of the path.

Marill stepped forward timidly. "Mar marill?" he asked hesitantly.

Lyra didn't stop her pacing, nor did she turn to look at her companion. "I'm not sure what we're going to do," she said. "I'm trying to come up with some sort of game plan." Suddenly, she whirled around to face Heracross, who was still clutching the egg. "Hey, Heracross?" she asked. "Are you able to carry a heavy load when you fly? Like me-sized?"

"Cross!" he said imperiously, sounding slightly insulted. Lyra was going to take that as a duh.

Lyra clapped her hands together and did a little hop. "Awesome! Okay, here's my idea. I take the egg from you, like so," she said, as Heracross allowed her to take his cargo, "then you'll grab me around my middle, I guess, and we'll fly off to Violet City as fast as possible. We can get help there. And Marill," she said, as her pokémon stood at attention, "you have two options. You can either stay outside so I can carry you in one of my arms, or you can go back in your pokéball until we land." She pulled out the capsule from her pocket to show him.

Not needing time to think it over, Marill quicklypointed to the pokéball and allowed himself to be withdrawn.

Lyra stuffed the ball back in her pocket. She held the egg snugly against her chest and nodded resolutely. "Ready whenever you are, Heracross."

The bug-type made a sound of acknowledgment, then came up behind Lyra and grabbed hold of her. Together, they shot up in the air and soared over the trees, heading to Violet City.

OoOoOoOoO

Walker prided himself in being able to keep calm and cool, no matter the crisis. Whether that crisis was a vicious battle against a merciless opponent, or being attacked by a crazed pokémon, or even seeing his hometown being invaded, he was always able to keep his thoughts clear, focused, and decisive.

Except for now.

It had been some two weeks after Falkner had been injured during the Team Rocket attack, and about a week since he had begun showing signs of consciousness. At first, he had only been able to stay semi-lucid for a few seconds at a time, and he had shown no recognition whatsoever of Walker or any of the nurses who came by periodically. Things had rapidly progressed after that. The tube in his throat had been removed. Not long after that, he had become more alert, and had been able to recognize where he was.

Falkner, at the time, had been unable to remember what had happened, but the doctors had assured him and his father that post-traumatic amnesia was not uncommon. Whether or not Falkner would ever remember the incident had been uncertain, though he had been told that notremembering wouldn't hinder his recovery. Falkner had said quite flatly that he had every intention of recalling every single detail—he certainly wasn't about to forever forget about something as memorable as battling Team Rocket, and apparently putting up one hell of a fight.

But when the memories did come, they came with a vengeance. Falkner ending up having doctors called a 'post-traumatic seizure' that left him unconscious for the next several hours.

To top that all off, Morty had called not long after that, reporting that, according to the visions he'd been having, there was going to be more Rocket activity very soon—when and where exactly, he didn't know.

So here Walker was again, sitting beside the bed, wishing he could do something—anything—to make this situation better. Falkner was awake now, looking uncharacteristically morose, staring distantly off into space. Neither one of them spoke.

Walker heard a soft tap at the door, and watched as a young nurse (Sheryl, according to her name tag) walked in. She looked a little apologetic. "I'm sorry to bother you two, but there's someone out here who says she has a pidgey from the Gym with her."

Falkner merely replied with a bland "Yeah, so?"

Walker shot him a mildly scolding look (which Falkner ignored entirely), then turned to the nurse. "Did she say why she was here? Or what her name was?"

"She says that the pidgey she brought with her wanted to come visit. She wouldn't give me a name. I can go ahead and send her away," she added quickly.

Walker sighed, then slowly rose to his feet, his joints creaking in protest. "No, it's fine. I'll see what she wants."

Sheryl nodded. "Right this way," she said, leading him out of the room. They entered the hallway, and she pointed to her right. "There she is."

OoOoOoOoO

"Yes, yes, yes! Here we are—we made it! Let's land over here, Heracross—no, here!—okay, have it your way . . . ah, sweet, sweet civilization!" Lyra slumped to the ground near the outskirts of Violet city, clutching the egg (no pun intended) to her chest, feeling far more tired than she really should have. Heracross, despite having done most of the work over the past several days, looked rather winded, but still quite capable of flying. Next to him, Lyra felt like a total wimp.

"Cross?" The bug-type was looking at her with some concern—probably because she was now sprawled out on the grass, eyes closed.

"I'm all right; I just need to rest. It's way too early in the morning to be awake . . . I mean, come on, the sun isn't even up—" But then her eyes snapped open, and she sat upright. "Wait, what am I saying? We need to see if everyone's okay!" She quickly hauled herself to her feet and half-ran, half-skipped her way towards the city. Heracross, cruising along a foot off the ground, followed along behind her.

By the time they actually got into the city, Lyra's strength was diminishing, and she reluctantly plunked herself down on a nearby bench to catch her breath a bit—and figure out where she was supposed to go. She let her eyes rove around the surrounding area, and hoped there was some sort of city map or helpful signs nearby. One of the buildings caught her attention.

Directly across from her, on the other side of the street, was the Violet City Gym. Lyra gazed at it with a sort of detached admiration for a few seconds before she noticed the scorch-marks on and around the walls, and remembered what had happened to it. She shivered.

"Hey, Heracross?" she asked. Do you know where some sort of police station would be? Or a pokémon center?" The bug-type lifted his clawed hands (his version of a shrug). "Okay . . . do you think you could scout for one? I'm kinda scared to ask some random person for directions," she confessed quietly. "I don't even see anyone around, anyway."

Heracross gave a sound of assent, but before he made to take off, he shot a pointed glance at her bag.

"What are you—oh yeah, Marill. Poor guy, I forgot about him." She dug around in her bag for a moment, muttering something about needing to reorganize it, before pulling out the sought-after sphere. "Come on out, buddy."

Marill materialized in a flash of red light, gave a sound of greeting to his trainer, and then hopped unceremoniously on the bench. "Mar mar?" he asked.

"Yeah, we're at Violet. Heracross is gonna look for somewhere to get help, and you're gonna be my bodyguard, okay?"

"Marill!" Her pokémon puffed out his chest and smiled confidently up at her, and Lyra couldn't help but smile back at him.

"That's my boy," she said warmly, rubbing the top of his head. "Okay, Heracross, whenever you're—waah!"

Something small and feathery had just shot past her head, knocking off her hat in the process. It was a good thing the bench had a back; otherwise, Lyra would have fallen off. Instead, she simply slammed her back, hard, into the wooden bench, making her wince.

Marill made a sound of surprise, but when the thing came back for another go, he gave a squeaky war-cry and shot a powerful blast of water at it, knocking it out of the air and onto the ground. Before the thing had a chance to get up again, Heracross buzzed over and placed a restraining claw on top of it. The thing made a brief struggle, then let out a weak chirp and went limp.

Heracross released his hold on the attacker—which Lyra recognized as a pidgey—and backed off to let her take a closer look.

Lyra carefully placed the egg on the bench, then walked over and crouched down to study the sad sight before her. The pidgey was soaked to the skin, thanks to Marill, and some of its feathers were bent out of shape. It was also tiny—Lyra knew enough about pidgey to know that the average height of one was about a foot, and this specimen was half that size. The pitiful little bird gazed at Lyra blearily, and let out a soft—and ridiculously cute—cheep.

"Aw, sorry about that," Lyra said in a quiet voice, gently scooping up the pidgey and cradling it in her hands. "What are you doing out here all alone, you little cutie?" she asked, smiling kindly at the bird (as Marill made a gagging noise in the background).

The flying-type looked up at her with big, googly eyes (Lyra had to resist squealing from the adorableness), and replied with a couple of quiet chirps. Lyra looked at the other two pokémon questionably. "What did it say?"

Heracross raised his hand, apparently volunteering to interpret. After Lyra nodded in understanding, he pointed to the pidgey.

"Um, okay, the pidgey . . . I'm just gonna call you Pidgey, okay?" Lyra said, and Pidgey nodded.

"Good. So . . . Pidgey . . . wants?" she guessed, after Heracross clasped his hands together and made a pleading face.

Heracross nodded enthusiastically, then pointed to Lyra, Marill, and himself.

"Pidgey wants . . . us?"

Again, he nodded. He pointed to Pidgey, then mimed walking. He then pointed to the rest of them and repeated the action.

Lyra stared blankly at the bug-type for a moment before hesitantly guessing, "It wants us to walk . . . ? No, wait! Okay, you said Pidgey wants us, then you . . ." This was getting confusing. "Um, wait. Pidgey wants us to . . . let it walk? I don't get it—but wait!" Heracross made a 'go on' motion with his hand, and Lyra continued. "Then you pointed to us, and . . ." Then, a light bulb lit up in her head. "Does Pidgey want us to follow it?"

Marill jumped around happily while Heracross smiled and Pidgey chirped in approval. Lyra grinned triumphantly, but then frowned.

"Uh, hate to say this, but . . . we kinda need to go somewhere important right now and—" She stopped when Pidgey nodded quickly. Lyra tilted her head. "Wait . . . so you want to go where we're going?"

Pidgey nodded. "Pidge pidgey."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you even knowwhere we're planning to go?"

It nodded again, more eagerly this time. Lyra frowned. "Were you eavesdropping?"

Pidgey gave a completely shameless nod, and waited patiently for a response.

". . .Well, at least you're honest, I guess," Lyra said, shrugging. "Okay, I guess we can do this." Lyra got up from her crouching position, keeping a firm hold on Pidgey. "This is what we're gonna do," she said in her most authoritative voice. "Pidgey, seeing as you're not exactly in any shape to fly, I'll just sorta hold you in front of me—hey, Heracross, can you carry the egg?—and you'll point your head in the direction we need to go. All righty?"

Pidgey gave one final nod, and then they were off, running down the conspicuously empty streets, Pidgey pointing its beak in whatever direction they needed to go. It didn't take long before they reached a pokémon center (and Lyra felt like both jumping for joy for finally getting there, and smacking herself when she realized that she had passed it not long after entering the city).

Lyra raced in almost before the automatic doors had time to open, and kept running until she skidded to a halt directly in front of the main desk, where a Nurse Joy looked at her with only the faintest bit of surprise.

"Hello there," the nurse said pleasantly. "Here to drop off your pokémon?" she asked, eyeing the ruffled-looking Pidgey, who was still in Lyra's hands.

"What? Um, well, this one's not mine. But I guess it could use some attention," she said rapidly, placing the flying-type on the desk. "I really really really need to make a call though, and I was wondering if there was a phone I could use somewhere, and maybe somewhere to charge my Pokégear, and do you know what happened in New Bark Town, and is everyone okay?"

Nurse Joy blinked, looking slightly lost, before she answered, "Oh, you must have just gotten here, haven't you? New Bark Town was attacked by Team Rocket—" Lyra let out a little squeak as her fears were confirmed, but Nurse Joy held up a hand before she could say anything, "—but no one was badly injured. Some things were stolen from the laboratory, and the town's power was out for a couple of days, but things are getting back to normal."

The nurse's voice was calm and level, and Lyra felt some of her tension drain away. "Thank goodness," she mumbled, and put her arms on the desk, burying her face in them.

"Miss? Can I take you somewhere to sit down?" Nurse Joy asked, sounding concerned.

Lyra's head snapped up. "No, I'm fine," she said hastily. "I still need to make some calls. So, about that phone . . ."

Fortunately, there was a videophone in a room next to the lobby, and Nurse Joy was happy to show her the way. After thanking the nurse heartily and settling herself in a chair (and letting Marill hop on her lap, while Pidgey perched on her shoulder and Heracross stood nearby), Lyra punched in the number to her dad's home phone, and waited.

A thin, balding middle-aged man appeared on the screen a few seconds later. Upon seeing Lyra, his face lit up. "Lyra! What were you thinking, leaving your old man out in the cold and worrying him half to death?"

"Hi Daddy!" Lyra squealed, ignoring the question for the moment. "I was so worried about you! Is everyone okay?"

Her father held up his hands in front of himself, as if to ward off an attack. "Whoa! Slow down there, sweetheart." He smiled warmly, though tiredly. "Now I can finally relax—I've been trying to call you for the past two days."

Lyra hung her head. "Sorry, Dad," she said guiltily. "I, uh, kinda forgot to charge my Pokégear before I left home, so . . . yeah. But hey, I'm totally fine, safe here in Violet City, all that jazz."

Her dad pinched the bridge of his nose, before sighing and smiling ruefully. "I swear, Lyra, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days. But I'm just glad you're okay. And now," he said sternly, "I want you to make sure your Pokégear's fully chargedbefore you even think of leaving town. You got that, Missy?"

Lyra nodded vigorously, almost knocking poor Pidgey from its seat. "You got it! No leaving town until it's recharged, got. Absolutely. I'll even stock up on supplies while I'm here."

"I certainly hope you were going to do that anyway," her dad said pointedly. "But anyway," he said, "I see you've been busy—caught two pokémon already, eh?"

"Oh, no, these aren't mine. This is Professor Elm's Heracross; he flew over here with an egg—show him the egg, Heracross!—and then took me here. And I just met Pidgey today, and it showed us the way to the pokémon center. The end."

Her dad laughed. "That's quite the story," he said, eyes twinkling. "You'll have to tell me more about it when you have the time."

"Yeah, I'll tell you all about it—oh wait!" Lyra said, eyes going wide. "How is everyone else doing over there?" she asked. "All I know is that Team Rocket pretty much came over, attacked the town, fried the electrical system, and ransacked the lab."

"We're all fine, for the most part. Professor Elm was in the lab when they came over—" Lyra gasped, and her dad held up a hand, "—but he's gonna be fine. Inhaled plenty of koffing smoke, but he's all right—just not allowed to run any marathons for the next few weeks." He smiled, and Lyra laughed weakly, pretending she found that funny. "A couple of others got a few burns here and there, but nothing bad. Gold's mom is fine, before you ask," he said, just as Lyra opened her mouth to inquire about Mrs. Heart.

Lyra let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, good." Her eyes widened. "Oh, wait! Does Gold know about all this?"

Her dad nodded. "Sure does. His mom called him as soon as we got the power back, which was yesterday. He's pretty worried about you; he said he tried to call you, but you wouldn't pick up. He made a good guess as to why that was—turns out he guessed right," he said, looking slightly amused.

Lyra laughed a little sheepishly. "Ah, well . . ." she trailed off. "You know what, I'd better call him back now."

"All right, sweetheart. But one more thing," her dad said, looking at her sternly. Lyra gulped. "I don't want you to go back out into the wilderness until you get another pokémon." When Lyra made a sound of protest, he held up a hand to cut her off. "I don't know what's going on around with Team Rocket showing up out of the blue, but I need you to be able to protect yourself—which means getting more pokémon, and as soon as possible. You can't go traipsing around the region with just Marill."

The water-type made an insulted humph sound, and Lyra felt displeased. "But what if I can't find a pokémon that I want? I'm gonna be stuck here forever."

"Well, kiddo, I don't know what else to tell you," her father said. "I'm not letting you go any farther unless you get at least one other pokémon. I'm sorry, Lyra, but you're just gonna have to take it or leave it."

Lyra sighed. "Okay, I'll take it," she said in resignation. "But only because you want me to, not because I don't think I can take care of myself."

"Good girl. You'll catch a pokémon in no time, you'll see."

"Yeah, I hope so. Well, see you later."

"Okay, sweetie, talk to you later. I love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

Lyra pressed to 'end call' button, and the screen went black. "Well, better see what Gold's up to," she muttered, already dialing her friend's number. Gold picked up almost instantly.

'There you are!'he said. 'I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about me. Or, you know, forgotten to charge your dang Pokégear.Though his words were sarcastic, his smile was genuine.

Lyra smiled back. "Don't worry, I didn't forget about you. Just the Pokégear."

'I knew it,'he said, smiling triumphantly. That's what I told your dad. I've been lonely for the past few days, you know.'

"You mean worried."

Gold pretended to be insulted. 'Who, me? My dear Lyra, the great Gold Heart does not get worried. By the way, who's your friend?he asked, referring to Pidgey, who was still on Lyra's shoulder.

"Oh, this is Pidgey. I met this little guy—ow!" she squawked, more in surprise than in pain, when Pidgey suddenly pecked her ear. "What?" she asked. "Do you not like being called a little guy?" Pidgey nodded. "So does that mean you're a girl?" When Pidgey nodded again, Lyra turned back to the video screen. "Sorry about that—Pidgey was just letting me know that she doesn't like being called a guy."

Gold smirked. 'Well, you wouldn't like someone assuming you were a dude either.'

"Good point. Anyway, long story short, she showed me the way to the pokémon center, though I'm not it was because she had something to do here, or because she wanted something in return." When Pidgey chirped in approval at her last words, Lyra sighed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, the last one's right."

Gold grinned. 'Hold on one second,'he said, and the screen briefly went blurry before Gold settled it on some sort of elevated area. 'There, now I can use both my hands. Anyway, congratulations on your unique predicament.'

"Thanks," she said dryly, then switched to purely signing. 'What do you think she wants?'she asked.

Gold shrugged. 'She's pretty runty-looking—maybe she wants someone to help her get some food. Buy her a muffin or something.'

"Good idea. I'll do that." Then she thought of something. "Oh hey, have you gotten any new pokémon yet?"

'Yeah, I did—about five minutes after I last talked to you.'

Lyra bounced up and down on her seat, startling Marill and Pidgey in the process, and clapped her hands. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let me see!" she demanded.

Gold grinned. 'I thought you'd never ask,'he joked, then made a beckoning gesture to something off-screen. Almost instantly, a light-purple monkey-like creature climbed nimbly up to his shoulder and gave a friendly wave with one of its fingerless hands. 'Lyra, meet Aipom. He's a bit of a pain in the ass, but an all-round nice guy.'

'Language, Gold,'she scolded him silently, though she was still smiling. Then she waved back to the newcomer. "Hi, Aipom! It's nice to meet you."

Aipom grinned widely and replied with a loud "Pom!"

'Anyway,'Gold said conversationally, 'we're right outside the entrance of Union Cave now. I'd send you pictures of the inside if I could, but whole 'I don't own a camera' thing kinda gets in the way of that.'

Lyra smiled. "Oh well. At least I'll get to see it in real life pretty soon. How long is the cave, anyway?"

Gold tilted his head to the side and looked up slightly, clearly thinking. 'The tunnel that leads to Route 33 is about ten miles, I think. They say it's easy to get through, though, just as long as you don't take any sharp turns, so I'll be on the other side in no time,'he said, looking supremely confident. 'Oh yeah, another thing. Before you skip town, make sure not to be dumb like me and forget to bring a flashlight.'

"You don't have a flashlight? Oh, Gold!"

'Hey, I have a fire-type with me, so I'll be fine,'he assured her. 'You, on the other hand, have a blue bouncy-ball with fur.'

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Aw, you're so mean. But not to worry—I was smart enough to bring a flashlight with me before I even left home."

'In my defense, I don't even own a flashlight. Oh, by the way, did you know that in Kalos, they call that thing a "torch"? Now, when I think of a torch, I think of a great big stick with fire at the end of it. But not them, oh no; they don't even give their electrical 'torches' a different name—'

"Hey," Lyra interrupted, "stop going off on a tangent. That's my job."

'Oh, good point—hey!'Lyra watched in amusement as Aipom suddenly sprang off Gold's shoulder and disappeared from view. 'Well, it looks like Captain Curious wants to go exploring now, and Princess Impatience looks ready to get going, too. I'll see you later.'

"Okay. Call me back when you're at Azalea."

'Your wish is my command, milady,'he replied, then gave her a bow.

"Very funny. I mean it, though."

'I know, I know. Okay, I really have to go now; I can't even see Aipom anymore—I think he ran off into the cave.He rolled his eyes.You see what I have to deal with? A monkey with ADD.'

Lyra laughed. "Okay, I'll let you go now. Bye."

'Bye.'

Lyra hung up for the second time, then let her head droop tiredly. "It's not even seven o' clock in the morning, and I'm already tired," she mumbled. "At least now I know for sure that everyone's okay, right?" she asked no one in particular.

Marill made a sound of agreement, then held out his arms to be picked up. Lyra rolled her eyes at his command, but nonetheless complied, and slowly got up and made her way out of the room at back to the main room. Nurse Joy smiled sympathetically when she saw Lyra's expression.

"Long morning?" she asked.

Lyra smiled ruefully. "More like long few days—but I think I can relax now."

"That's good to know. Tell you what—how about I take your pokémon and patch them up for you, then get you a room. You look like you could use a lie-in."

"Thank you, Nurse. I really appreciate it," she said gratefully. "Come on guys, go with the nurse—go on, Pidgey—oh, fine. I guess Pidgey'll stay with me."

"All right—but make sure it doesn't exert itself for a while." She started to lead the others through a doorway behind the desk. "Feel free to sit down—I'll be back with the key to your room in a few minutes," she called back over her shoulder.

True to her word, the nurse quickly returned, room key in hand. "Here you go," she said, handing the card to Lyra. "There rooms are just over here." Nurse Joy directed her to a long hall lined with doors, and Lyra was quick to find her room and drop off her things.

She plopped down on the bed and place Pidgey in front of her. "Okay then," she said, "what can I do for you?" Remembering Gold's words, she asked, "Do you want food?"

Pidgey shook her head, but didn't elaborate.

"Okay . . . do you want me to take you somewhere?"

Pidgey cheeped, flapping her wings in approval.

Lyra grinned. "Yeah, second guess, not bad!" Then she frowned. "But listen here; I can't take just anywhere. It'd better be somewhere in this city, or I can't help you."

"Pidgey!" the flying-type said in an assuring manner.

"Okay then. Now comes the hard part; figuring out where you want to go. I'm gonna assume it's somewhere you couldn't fly to, or else you wouldn't have tried to get help." When Pidgey didn't argue, Lyra continued, "So is it some kind of building?"

"Gey!" she said, nodding.

Lyra grinned broadly. "I feel like a detective right now. Okay, so what kind of building, I wonder? It's obviously not here, and I don't think you'd want to go to, say, a market. So let me think . . ." she thought about the raid in Violet, and ventured a guess. "Is it a hospital?"

The pidgey nodded vigorously.

"Wow, first guess!" Lyra almost shouted, pumping her fist. "So I guess you want to visit someone there? A patient, then?"

Another nod.

"Nice, I'm getting good at this . . . but how am I supposed to know who you want to see?"Something tells me she's not gonna know the room number,she thought.

Pidgey hopped across the bed, then half-flew, half-jumped over to the room's single window and latched onto the curtain with her claws. Her eyes scanned the area outside briefly, then she looked at Lyra, waiting for her to come over.

Lyra hopped off the bed and strode quickly over to the widow, and Pidgey looked pointedly at a certain building in the distance.

"What are you looking at? Sprout Tower?

Pidgey shook her head no.

"Are you even looking at a building? Yes? All right, is it a small one?"

Head shake.

"Is it the gym?" she guessed. "Do you live there?"

Pidgey chirped happily, an obvious 'yes' to both questions.

"Now that wasn't too hard, was it?" Lyra said, smiling triumphantly. "So you want to see someone who works in the gym—wait." She eyed Pidgey warily. "Please don't tell me the person you want to see is the gym leader."

When Pidgey nodded, Lyra clapped a hand over her eyes and groaned. "Now how am I supposed to get permission to take you see Falkner, of all people? People will think I'm either a stalkerish fangirl, or some wannabe spy. Then they're probably gonna throw me out!" When Pidgey looked at her pleadingly, Lyra sighed in resignation. "All right, all right! I'll see what I can do. Don't expect any miracles, though. . . ."

OoOoOoOoO

Two hours later, after making her way to the city's only hospital, getting yelled at by several of the staff, and surviving an incident involving cleaning supplies and air vents and multiple potted plants (don't ask), Lyra found herself sitting against the wall of one of the hospital's many hallways, waiting to see if Pidgey would finally get her wish to see the gym leader.

"Okay, listen up," she told the bird, who was currently sitting on one of her bent knees, "if Falkner won't let you in, there's nothing I can do. Probably the only reason they haven't kicked me out yet is because we both look like pitiful little orphans." When Pidgey made a somewhat hurt sound, Lyra just shrugged. "It's true, you know."

Suddenly, in her peripheral vision, Lyra spotted two figures; one of them was the nurse who had taken pity on her and had let her wait in the hall, and the other was a taller figure she didn't recognize. She heard the nurse say, "There she is," and then she watched out of the corner of her eye as the unknown person walked over to her and stopped several feet away.

"Well?" the figure asked with mild impatience, and Lyra finally allowed herself to turn her head and look up at him.

Standing before her was a man who looked vaguely familiar, though Lyra wasn't sure why. Though his body looked lithe and powerful, his lined, weather-beaten face told her that he was in his early fifties at least. His mostly straw-colored hair was lightly sprinkled with gray, and his sharp, sky-blue eyes were looking at her with an impatient, yet slightly studious expression.

Lyra opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She coughed slightly, then tried again. "She wanted to see Falkner," Lyra managed to say, and gestured to Pidgey. "You're not Falkner, though."

The man stared at her for a moment before sighing wearily and scrubbing his face with his hands. "Look, kid," he said tiredly, "you can't just come into a busy hospital and expect people to allow you to bring in some random pokémon for a visit."

"I know!" Lyra said quickly and rather indignantly, before the man had a chance to say anything further. "But I had to try. This pidgey is from the gym, and she was worried about Falkner. I promised her I would try to help her out. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Maybe you could have done the sensible thing and not come at all," the man replied, though without any real heat.

Lyra carefully placed Pidgey on her shoulder, and got to her feet and stood at her full height. "A promise is a promise," she said firmly. "When I make a promise, I keep it. It's what you're supposed to do."

The man almost looked like he was going to smile (not that Lyra saw anything amusing about what she'd just said). "All right, kid," he said, "here's the deal. I'm not going to let you or your pidgey in the room, but I willhave you know that he's gonna be fine."

Lyra turned towards the pidgey. "Is that good enough for you?" she asked, and Pidgey nodded, still looking a bit unhappy, though decently appeased.

The man smiled. "Good. Now you and your pidgey better get on home."

Lyra felt the need to clarify. "I'm not from around here," she said, "and Pidgey's not actually mine."

The man looked at her strangely. "Really? I assumed you were a Gym trainer."

"Nope. Just a regular trainer—I'm just starting out. And Pidgey showed me the way to the pokémon center, so I was returning the favor by bringing her here."

The man stared at her for a moment more before shaking his head sadly. "Listen kid," he said, "I hate to have to tell you this, but with the whole Team Rocket fiasco going on, now isn't exactly the best time to start being a trainer." He held up a hand when Lyra open her mouth to protest. "Just hear me out, okay? Team Rocket is an incredibly powerful organization—they've killed tens of thousands of innocent people. They don't care who they hurt—they don't care if you're a man or a woman or a child, or whether or not you have pokémon. If they find you, and you're in their way, they won't hesitate to kill you."

Lyra felt her stomach twist painfully, but felt a shred of doubt at this. "But if they don't care whether or not you have pokémon with you, why does it matter if I'm a trainer?" she said reasonably. "Wouldn't I just be better protected that way?"

He shook his head. "Not necessarily. Like I said, they'll kill you if you get in their way. If you're a traveling trainer, you're more likely to get in the way."

Lyra rolled her eyes just a tad. "I'm not dumb. I know how to stay out of trouble."

The man sighed wearily. "Do you have any family?" he asked abruptly.

Lyra was confused by the sudden change in subject, but answered anyway. "Well, yeah. I have a dad and two grandparents."

"And how do you think they would feel if something happened to you?"

Lyra hesitated. "They . . . they would be really sad, I guess?"

"They would be more than sad," the man said, looking pained. "They would be devastated. The loss of a child is the worstkind of loss you can possibly experience. It's . . . unimaginable."

Suddenly, the man looked very old, and very, very tired. "I have a son," he said softly. "And guess what? He's not only an adult, but an extremely powerful trainer. When Team Rocket attacked this place, hewasn't even safe from them—he was badly injured. For a while, I thought I was going to lose my only son forever." The man paused for a few moments to let that all sink in.

Lyra stared at the floor, unable to look the man in the eye. "So what you're saying is that I should go back home."

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Lyra fought off the stupid urge to cry. "B-but . . . I talked to my dad this morning. He didn't say I had to go home. Don't you think he would tell me to if he thought I'd be safer?"

"Maybe your dad doesn't understand the gravity of the situation," he replied.

Lyra stomped her foot. "Well, maybe he does! What the heckdo you know? Maybe I'm better off awayfrom home. My hometown doesn't exactly have top-level security, you know."

"Kid, I don't even know where you come from," the man said flatly.

Lyra rolled her eyes dramatically, as though he should have known. "I'm from New Bark Town—you know, the teeny-tiny little town that wouldn't even be on a map if it weren't for the Elm Laboratory? The one where nobody has any strong pokémon to defend themselves with?"

The man rubbed the bridge of his nose. "All right, kid, all right," he said. "I can't make you go home. But," he said sternly, giving her a sharp look, "you need to be careful. This isn't some video game where can start over if you screw up, you got it?"

Lyra nodded. "Got it." She was already well aware of that, but she wasn't about to argue with some guy who was obviously trying to be a Good Samaritan.

The man wearily ran a hand through his hair. "Okay kid, you listen, and you listen good. If you're going to do the fool thing and keep going with your little journey," (Lyra felt a little insulted at what her grand adventure was being referred to), "take some advice from me. First of all," he said, "train whatever pokémon you have as much as possible—and I'm talking about hours a day sort of training. Get a training guidebook if you don't already have one."

Lyra nodded vigorously. "Okay, train like my life depends on it, got it. I can do that."

"You'd better. Also," he continued, "get a full party of pokémon. The sooner, the better. Don't refuse to fill up your team just because you can't find anything cute."

Lyra gave the man her most disdainful look. "Just how stupid would someone have to be to only get cute Pokémon when they're trying to survive in the wild?"

The man smiled slightly. "You'd be surprised. And speaking of appearances . . ." he gave Lyra serious look. "Don't trust anyone you don't know, no matter how friendly or nice they seem."

"Duh," Lyra deadpanned. "That's the first thing parents tell their kids when they're talking about strangers. So yeah, I got it. Anything else?"

"Well . . . aw, screw it." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and silvery. "Take this," he said, placing the object on Lyra's open palm.

Lyra looked at the chilly piece of metal in her hand, then looked back up at the man. "This is the Zephyr Badge," she said blankly.

"That it is. Trust me, the more badges a trainer has, the better. People'll take you more seriously that way, and if you have enough badges, you'll have more access to certain pokémart items."

Lyra shifted her weight from one foot to another. "But don't I have to get this from the gym leader himself?"

"Consider it an award for going above and beyond the call of duty," he said, looking pointedly at Pidgey, "in helping a fellow citizen in need. And as for earning it from the current gym leader, well, there's not much I can do about that. You'll just have to settle for the retired one."

Lyra nodded, not really taking it in. "Uh, well, I guess that's okay then—hey!" She pointed at the man accusingly. "I know who you are! You're Falkner's dad! You're Strider!"

"Indeed I—whoa, hold on a second." The man looked at her with thinly-veiled disbelief. "Strider?" It looked like he was trying hard not to roll his eyes. "I believe you mean Walker."

"Oh, right, sorry. I knew it had something to do with walking. . . ." Then she cleared her throat. "Well, I hate to be abrupt, but I'd better go before someone kicks me out. I'm already hiding from at least four staff," she said in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

Before Walker could give a suitable response, Pidgey let out several cheeps in his direction. Walker raised his eyebrows. "You don't need my permission," he said, looking slightly amused. "Ask her."

Lyra felt surprised, though she probably shouldn't have. "You can understand her? What did she say?"

Walker smiled slightly. "The bird wants to go with you."

Lyra felt her face light up. "Really?" Without waiting for an answer, she reached to her shoulder and plucked the flying-type off. She fixed the bird, now perched delicately on her hand, with a serious gaze. "Now Pidgey," she said solemnly, "before I accept your offer, you have to be aware of the danger, and, uh . . . geesh, I wish I had a script or something." She sighed. "I kinda wanted this to be more formal, you know? But oh well, I guess. Yeah, you can come, as long as you're aware of safety hazards and stuff."

Pidgey, to her credit, nodded her agreement in a very dignified fashion, then proudly puffed out her tiny chest.

Lyra smiled in satisfaction, then turned to Walker. "Thanks for the badge and stuff, Mr. Walker, sir. I hope your son gets better soon," she said quietly.

Walker smiled, though his eyes were sad. "Thanks, kid," he said. "Now get going—you got some training to do. Watch your back."

Lyra nodded. "Yessir, will do." Then she smiled, and with that, skipped her way down the hall and out of sight, shredding any possible dignity of her departure to pieces.

Walker chuckled slightly as he watched her leave, but after she was out of sight, his smile dropped, and he sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. "Good luck, kid," he muttered. "Arceus knows you're gonna need it."

OoOoOoOoO

Union Cave, Gold found, was not a pleasant sort of place to be. Most people would agree, though they would probably have different opinions about what its worst feature was.

Some would say that the worst part was the cold, and Gold would almost be inclined to agree with them. It was, after all, refrigerator-temperature in here, and after less than halfway through, Gold's fingers had lost almost all their feeling.

Some people would probably say that it was the dampness. And, really, after slipping and sliding around for a while, trying not to fall into the cave's many water-filled indentations, Gold could understand that, too. But if he had to pick hisleast favorite aspect, the choice would have been obvious.

The dark.

To put it plainly, he was afraid of the dark. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had no sense of hearing to fall back on if his sight was robbed of him. Maybe it was due to some childhood trauma he had long since forgotten. Or maybe he was just a wimp.

Whatever the reason, it was making it awfully hard to keep calm and focused, despite Quilava's fire to lead the way, and Aipom (who was currently riding on Gold's backpack) assuring him that he'd listen for any sign of danger.

You're not looking too good,Aipom pointed out, not without some concern.

I'm fine, Gold replied shortly. Just keep an ear out for anything suspicious, and who knows, we might make it out alive.

Hey, you can count on me, bro,Aipom said confidently. I wouldn't let anything happen to you—you're my best friend!Gold didn't have to look at him to know that Aipom was smiling at him adoringly.

Aipom had become a part of the team in a rather . . . interesting way. Right after Quilava had reluctantly agreed on getting a new teammate, she had marched into the brush, Gold trailing behind her, and called around for any pokémon that would be willing to embark on an 'epic and dangerous' adventure with them. Less than a minute later, Aipom had appeared.

Before either Gold or Quilava could say anything, Aipom had launched into an enthusiastic explanation of why exactly they should put him on their team, and how hardworking and useful he would be. When Gold had told him to just shut up and battle, the normal-type had paused in surprise for a brief second, then jumped around excitedly, proclaiming that he wouldn't disappoint him.

The following battle had been less than impressive—Quilava had far outclassed Aipom in terms of both strength and skill, so the match hadn't lasted long—but it had been intriguing. Aipom had used only two different attacks during the course of the battle, and they had both been moves that Gold had never seen a wild pokémon use before—thunderbolt and shadow ball. That had interested Gold enough for him to decide to toss the pokéball. After Aipom had been sucked inside, the ball hadn't wriggled once before signaling a successful capture.

Since then, Aipom had been willing and eager to do whatever Gold requested of him, which mostly consisted of luring wild pokémon over to battle with. Gold had quickly come to the unpleasant conclusion that not only was Aipom a weak battler, but a lousy strategist as well; Gold had been forced to tell him what to in every detail, from when and how to dodge (Like right now? Okay, duck or jump?) to what way to use his moves (Wait, like wide range, or—ow! He bit me!). After that, Gold had decided to refrain from using his new partner in any more battles until they reached Azalea. Not that Aipom was completely useless; he was good at collecting kindling for a campfire, and, as of today, he was assigned to be Gold's hearing aid while they trekked through the cave.

Quilava,he called out to the pokémon several meters in front of him, you doing okay?

Yeah, I am; just like I was five minutes ago when you asked, and five minutes before that, and five minutes before that.Gold imagined she probably rolled her eyes. You know,you'rethe one you should be worried about, with all your—

She paused abruptly, and before Gold could ask her what was wrong, the flames on her head went out, and the three of them were plunged into total darkness. Gold, having lost his most useful sense, immediately felt his heart rate pick up.

Quilava? What happened?

To his relief, she answered quickly. I'm fine! Aipom said he heard something, so I turned out the lights.

In any other situation, Gold would have laughed at her wording, but now wasn't the time. Aipom? You said you heard something?

Yeah, footsteps, way behind us, but they're coming closer—

Gold,Quilava interrupted, tell Aipom to shut up; he's talking out loud.

Aipom, shut up. Just talk to me in your head.

Aipom paused. Wait,he said slowly,so if I justthink at you, you know what I'm saying? You're so cool!

Yeah, yeah, not the time for that right now,Gold replied. We need to hide somewhere—let's try to get over to a wall.With much difficulty, the team made it to one of the craggy walls and hid behind a group of stalactites. With his back pressed up against the wall, Gold thought he could feel slight vibrations. Whether they were from the upcoming intruders, or something else entirely, Gold had no idea. Can you still hear them?he asked Aipom.

Yeah, they're getting louder—oh, look!

Gold was about to ask, Look where?but it turned out he didn't need to. Off to his left, in the direction they had just come from, he could see a steadily growing light, and with it came a dozen dark figures, moving steadily closer.

Gold and his pokémon pressed themselves harder against the wall. Gold drew his knees to his chest, and put an arm around Quilava, while Aipom clung tightly to his other arm. Don't move,he ordered them. Then the light was upon them, and they watched as the figures passed by. Gold barely dared to breath as he watched them, hoping against hope that they wouldn't be seen.

Gold didn't know if he or one of his pokémon made some sort of noise, or if it was just a coincidence, but one of the men in the back of the crowed suddenly turned in their direction. Gold stopped breathing altogether.

The following seconds passed by like hours, and no one moved. Then, against all odds, the man simply turned and walked away. Gold still didn't relax, though. His formerly aching chest was now burning fiercely, and he was trying hard not to hyperventilate. For in the brief time the man had been turned towards them, Gold recognized something.

Stitched in the front of his jacket, standing in startling contrast to the black background, was the Team Rocket symbol.

OoOoOoOoOoO

A/N Dun dun dun! It looks like Gold's troubles aren't over yet. Poor guy.

Anyway, I'm going to answer a few questions you guys might have, before you have to ask them:

Q: Why didn't anyone from New Bark contact someone with mobile devices?

A: The Rockets clearly wanted the people to be without help for as long as possible. I would put it past them to go into each building and destroy all things electrical. Also, video game logic.

Q: Okay, but how did they take out the power in the first place?

A: This is Team Rocket we're talking about. They know how to do a lot of stuff.

Q: Why did Walker give advice—and a badge—to Lyra, a girl he had just met?

A: Simple. Because she was there, and he could. He's, as Gold would put it, 'just that swell a guy.'

Q: Why was Gold so afraid of Team Rocket before he could even tell who they were?

A: Gold's obviously not of fan of the dark, so if he's under that much stress, he's not going to think clearly. His pokémon also picked up on his anxiety, and responded accordingly.

Q: Why is this chapter so cheesy, and why is the flow so bad?

A: Because I suck. Sorry. One day, I will edit the heck out of this.

Anyway, I hoped you derived some pleasure from this chapter. If you have any sort of feedback, or any questions, please review (and remember, I accept anonymous ones, too)!