It was approaching high noon in Undella Town, but the air still had the bite of the quickly coming Winter frost.

A frigid gust of wind, fragrant with the salt of the sea and snow from the north, whistled through the charred ruins of what were once tall, blue and white villas. They stood, barely supported by their weak trusses, like structures built by a lost and forgotten ancient civilization, though people must have been living there, not too long ago.

When Vic Hannon trudged his way there all the way from Village Bridge, he was not expecting much, but he was not expecting to be welcomed by complete emptiness. Undella Town was one of five locations in Unova that contained a safe house, which was the villa owned by the Riches family, but converted into a survival station.

Vic thought he would find some survivors that would share some supplies with him or maybe even take him in, but he found no one. He did not know why, but Undella Town had been completely abandoned.

The only thing he could deduce was there was obviously a fire there that damaged the most of the buildings; not a good sign considering the circumstances. However, on further exploration, he found no gels in the area. He did not even find any evidence that any were ever there. What he did find was supplies.

He could not believe his eyes when he first saw it. Months, maybe even years worth of everything a person in Vic's situation could have ever wanted. There were warm, clean clothes, blankets, rain coats, medicine, duct tape, rope, lighters, matches, flashlights, batteries, tools, purified water, and FOOD. My God, there was so much food, for people AND Pokemon, which was good for Vic and his team of six. All this was just laying around in the Riches' villa, practically untouched.

What in the world happened here, Vic thought.

What could have possibly made people apparently set fire to a town and just leave without taking anything, if that is even what happened?

He eventually decided that he should not look too deeply into it. What happened was irrelevant now. What did matter was that Vic had found the mother load after so much hard work and suffering, and it was all his. All that was left for him to do was enjoy it.

That was little over a year ago, and Vic had been hunkering down in the ocean side borough ever since.

It was definitely a pleasant place to live. A place where he did not have to worry about gels or loonies willing to slit his throat for what was in his pockets. It made for a peaceful existence, with just him, his Pokemon and the omnipresent soundtrack provided by the waves of the ocean. Vic loved it, but Solomon, his Flareon, was beginning to grow concerned.

Vic had been acting very strange the past few months.

It was not much at first; stuff like Vic talking to himself or staring off into space. A little disconcerting, but nothing Solomon could not just shrug off and chalk up to him being bored, but he began to doubt that assumption after a while.

These episodes of staring into space and talking to himself began to happen more often and become more intense. In fact, just a few days ago, Solomon found his trainer talking to thin air about a movie he watched on TV last night, something even he as a Pokemon knew was not true or even possible. Vic might have been an avid TV watcher back when such things were relevant, but there was not even any electricity to turn on a television with. It became clear to the Flareon that his trainer's mind was not in perfect health, and it was quickly worsening with each passing day.

He did not know what to do. What could he possibly have done, other than stay loyal to his trainer, be there for him in any way he could, and hope deep down that Vic would pull through and not lose himself. He had seen and fought off enough lost souls since the world was overtaken. He did not want Vic to become one of them.

"Fu fu fu fu fu, heh heh heh ha ha."

Solomon's ears drooped.

"Ha ha ha, AAAH ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha HAAAAAA!"

Vic, who just moments ago was quietly enjoying a can of corned beef and a warm soda pop by the beach, had suddenly burst into a violent fit of laughter, apropos of nothing. The longer this went on, the harder he laughed, eventually getting to the point that he was doubled over, literally holding onto his sides, tears streaming down his face.

Solomon wanted him to stop.

This wasn't right. This wasn't healthy. Damn it, this wasn't his trainer. He wanted to slap some sense into this stranger and get the real Vic back, but all that Solomon could do without actually hurting him was paw at his leg and make small yelping noises. If there was ever a moment he wished he could speak human, this would be it

Having noticed his Flareon, Vic calmed down enough to speak to him.

He wheezily said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, it's just," he placed a hand over his mouth to suppress another wave of giggles. After gaining control of himself yet again, Vic started over.

"It's just that, I realized something."

He took a swig of soda pop.

"People used to pay out the nose to spend a summer here, but now that living costs are nonexistent."

He raised the opaque plastic bottle, as if to propose a toast to the waves of the sea.

"Nobody's here!"

He grinned at Solomon, a look of expectancy on his face, though he did not know what his trainer was expecting of him. He supposed that Vic wanting him to laugh at his witty observation, but he failed to see the comedy in it. The emptiness of Undella Town was no joke.

Seeing the unfazed seriousness in Solomon's mammalian eyes and the stern frown creasing his reddish-orange fur, Vic's grin faded.

"Ah, you wouldn't understand."

He finished off what was left of his drink with a few gulps, got up from his seat, and chucked the bottle down the shoreline, where it landed bottom down, slightly askew in the sand. The bottle, combined with the idyllic scenery, reminded Vic of a melodramatic commercial.

"Dare to be yourself. Soda Pop, now at a vendor near you," he quoted. Saying that slogan made a wave of nostalgia crash over him.

"Oh, oh, oh, remember that one really trippy soda commercial where that guy with a lazy eye or something was at a party, and he was all sad because no one would talk to him when, all of a sudden, this random Jinx came up to him with a serving tray with a soda on it, and when he drank it the whole thing turned into some acid trip? And when it stopped, he was on the dance floor with everyone cheering him on? Oh Arceus, I love that one."

Vic began to wander aimlessly around the golden-white sands of the beach as he rambled.

"Now that I think about it, didn't that commercial piss a lot of people off," he said to no one in particular.

"Yeah, it did! I don't really know why exactly, I mean, it was weird, yeah, but, uh, oh yeah! Now I remember. There was a hidden picture of a naked woman posing with an Ekans or something crazy like that. Yeah, that's exactly what it was! There was a frame in the video with a picture of a totally nude chick holding an Ekans, and when someone pointed it out, it pissed off a bunch of feminist groups. I say, who the heck cares."

He stammered , as if he wanted to take back what he said, though the only person that could have possibly heard him was a terrified Solomon.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I didn't mean it in that way. It was definitely a bad move on the producer's part, and I have nothing against feminists, what they do is pretty noble. It's bad when women are portrayed as sex objects, but come on! It was one frame in a, what, minute long clip? Who the heck took the time to shuffle through what I'm guessing was thousands of frames to look for something inappropriate? Is there some guy out there that just sits there all day, watching slowed down footage frame by frame? Ugh, I don't understand people sometimes."

Then, without warning, Vic froze.

His imaginary conversation went silent and his wandering ceased. He stood perfectly still facing the ocean, the water lapping at his boots.

A feeling of dread, heavy as a lead weight, settled itself in Solomon's stomach, making his mouth go bone dry. He didn't know what to make of this sudden silence from his trainer, but he knew that he did not like it.

Cautiously, he approached Vic, his dainty paws barely making a print in the sand, to see if he was OK.

At his side, he craned his neck to look at Vic's face. He furrowed his brow in worry at the sight of it. It seemed he had lapsed into a zombie-like state. His face was slack and pale from a lack of blood, and his normally warm, lively eyes were glazed in appearance, as if he were staring at something far away.

Wanting to snap him out of his stupor, Solomon called out to his trainer and tugged at his pant leg with his teeth.

Vic screamed.

Solomon jumped back in alarm. He was honestly not expecting a reaction at all, let alone something like this. He winced at the low, gravelly sound that escaped Vic's throat as he pulled at his hair.

After screaming for a full minute, Vic's voice grew hoarse and ragged.

He fell to his knees, placed his face into his cupped hands, and began to cry. Solomon could feel his heart slowly crack as he watched his trainer break down, his sobs growing more and more quiet and wheezy, as if he were running out of air in his lungs.

He didn't want his trainer to feel this way. Solomon wanted to see his trainer smile again, an honest, real smile this time. Wanting to comfort him, he slowly walked up to Vic as if he were approaching a wounded animal. He grimaced slightly at the feeling of water touching his fur, but he grudged through it. Some things were more important than an aversion to water, even if you were a fire type.

Once he was close enough, he propped himself up into a standing position, his paws resting on Vic's lap. He gently nuzzled his hands, trying to coax him to take them away from his face, which he did. He felt a complicated mix of sadness and relief when he saw his trainer's mug. Vic looked pitiful with his cheeks streaked with old and new tears, his lips pursed, and his chin wrinkled, but the light in his eyes were back. The real Vic had returned.

Happy to see him back, if only for a moment, Solomon rubbed his face against Vic's chest, practically purring. At that, Vic embraced his Pokemon, holding him closer. He buried his face into the thick collar of fur, relishing its warm, soft quality and sniffling a bit.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, barely audible.

"I am so sorry Solomon. I-I don't know what's gotten over me, it's just...it's just."

His voice cracked.

"I just miss her so much!"

Solomon did not need any more explanation then that.

He knew how much Vic cared about Nuna and that he cried over her picture when he thought he was asleep. The events of the past few weeks made a bit more sense now that Vic had finally admitted to this emotional weakness, pushing aside his usual tough guy persona. He had been holding this back for far too long.

He let Vic cry into his mane, the sound of his sobs combining with the ocean as high tide approached.

After a while, Vic pulled away from his Pokemon and smiled, honestly smiled. The type of smile that made his cheeks dimple and his nose wrinkle.

Solomon was overjoyed, and he showed it through an excited wag of his fluffy tail. His joy escalated when his trainer laughed and launched him up in the air, just like he used to back when he was still a little Eevee, and he an innocent boy. The sound of air rushing passed his ears made him feel weightless and free.

With a well practiced swoop, Vic caught him mid-fall and, again, held him close to his chest. Vic could feel the warmth radiating from the Flareon's body, just as he could feel Vic's strong heartbeat.

"Sorry for being such an ass, buddy," Vic whispered into his Pokemon's ear.

He scratched Solomon behind the ears.

"I really don't have any excuse, it's just," he sighed. "Sit down with me, buddy."

Vic went back to the chair was sitting on and gestured for his Flareon to hop onto his lap.

It was silent for a moment. Vic twiddled his thumbs shyly, contemplating on his words as Solomon waited patiently.

"I don't know what to say," he said, sounding defeated.

"I know that I've been acting like a complete psycho, and I don't want be...that, but, there's something chipping away on my mind and I can't explain what it is exactly. I do miss Nuna so much, and I think about her all the time, but that's not the only thing that's been bugging me, but I just can't put into words."

He petted Solomon's head thoughtfully.

"All I know is that if it weren't for you and the others, I would have gone over the deep end a long time ago, but I can't go on like this much longer. It's dangerous, but I'm going to have to think about this one for a bit. I just don't want to do, you know, that again. It'd probably help if I weren't such a lunk head."

Solomon shook his head. He didn't like it when his trainer put himself down, especially about things that weren't true. Vic's mouth was suddenly parted by a huge yawn that seemed to last forever.

He rubbed his eye, "Sorry, that fit left me exhausted. I need a nap."

He got up from his chair.

"C'mon, let's go home."

Solomon barked happily at his trainer's suggestion. He tagged by Vic's heels faithfully, practically skipping. He was so elated to have his trainer back to being his old self, even if it was just for a little while.

"Hey buddy. How about we get the rest of the team out tomorrow and train. Remember training? It's been a long time."

A fire lit up in Solomon's eyes. He missed training so much the past few months. He couldn't wait.

"Cloud, use surf!"

At his trainer's command, Cloud, a Mantine much larger than most, skidded across the surface of the water and with one powerful flap of its wings, a huge wave rose from the sea. He rode atop its crest as it hurdled towards the beach and towards his trainer. The wall of turquoise water would have hit Vic if he hadn't ran.

He easily leaped over a log that had drifted onto shore and landed on his feet with a muffled thud. He found himself in front of a Scolipede ready for orders.

"Amethyst, toxic!"

He hardly had any time to get away when Amethyst's towering physique tensed up and began to glow as she unleashed streams of purple goo that definitely would have made Vic very ill if it weren't for his quick foot work.

He breathed heavily from excitement as he jogged his way over to the side of a Chimecho. It bobbed in the air as it patiently awaited for the word to move.

"Crescendo, heal bell!"

At the command, the Chimecho swayed in the air and opened its mouth as if it wanted to sing. A soothing melody like the sounds of wind chimes and church bells filled the air. It made Vic feel even more invigorated than before.

He sprinted over the tiny, hamster-like Pokemon Dedenne that was perched on top of weathered rock, sparks flying from its cheeks.

Vic spread his arms wide, "C'mon Lexi baby, let's play!"

Lexi took that as an order to use the move play rough. She squeaked excitedly and hopped into the air. She launched herself like a cannonball towards her trainer, leaving a trail of colorful, sparkling smoke in her wake. When it looked like the Dedenne was about to plow through her trainer, Vic dodged and shoulder rolled out of the way, making Lexi land on the ground, sending up a plume of sand and canceling her attack.

"Good job," Vic reassured Lexi, to which she responded with a little, jubilant hop.

Vic's heart raced as he approached his awaiting partner in crime, Solomon. As he ran, he pointed at a nearby pier. "Solomon, fire blast!"

The Flareon growled as he felt the fire in its belly rush to his throat. He opened his mouth wide and let loose a bright red ball of fire even bigger than he. It streaked towards a post holding the pier up and hit it with perfect accuracy, leaving a smoking scorch mark in the old wood. Solomon admired his own work with a smug expression.

"Yeah!" Solomon cheered and pumped his fist in the air. He twirled on his heel to look at the final member of his team.

"Alright, Harley, let's finish this up with a shadow claw...Harley?"

Vic looked around frantically to see where Harley could have wandered off to.

"Damn it Harley," he mumbled to himself.

"Solomon, think you can sniff him out?"

The Flareon nodded assuredly and smelled the air. He immediately picked up on Harley and gestured for his trainer to follow him. He' s had to do this several times before, so picking up on Harley's scent was easy.

After telling the rest of his team to wait for a few moments, Vic followed Solomon along the shore and into the edges of town where they found Harley absentmindedly digging at the ground around what used to be the Pokemon Center.

"Harley," Vic said firmly to get his attention.

He stopped digging and looked up at his trainer defiantly, already adamant about his innocence of doing anything wrong.

Vic shook his head and kneeled down to the level of the Sandslash.

"Harley, you know you shouldn't wander off like this. I know you think that you can handle anything on your own, but you have to realize I tell you to do things to make sure you stay safe. I'm not trying to hold you back in any way, I care about you."

Harley grunted and turned his head away from Vic, refusing to look him in the eye. He sneered threateningly, showing his tiny, but sharp, teeth.

"Please, just look at me."

Harley refused.

"I love you Harley, I really hope you know that. We're a team, a family, and we work together to get by, but we can't do that if you keep disobeying me and going off on your own. You keep that up, something bad will happen to you, and I don't know if I'll be able to forgive myself when it happens."

He pointed toward the beach.

"Everyone else is down there practicing, having fun, and you're missing out on it. They want you to be with them, so do I. Why can't you see that?"

Harley answered with an irritated growl.

"Harley," he reached out to make physical contact with his Sandslash, but he struck out at Vic blindingly fast with the pointed end of his claw.

Vic fell backwards. Harley had cut his palm deep. Fresh blood stained Vic's white cardigan as he held his trembling fist to his stomach. Solomon rushed to his side to make sure he was OK.

"I'm fine buddy, it's just a flesh wound. I just need to wrap it up later," Vic said after making a low, guttural sound of pain. Solomon gave his Sandlash companion a sour look for hurting their trainer and barked something that must have been the Pokemon equivalent of a swear, considering the piercing gaze it elicited from Harley.

"Spare him any lectures Sol, Harley just needs a time out to think about what he's done." He got up from the ground and clumsily used his good hand to retrieve a Pokeball from his belt and called for his Sandslash to return. Harley was engulfed in a flash of bluish light, and with a digital "swoosh" sound, he was put back into his ball in an instant.

Vic clipped the Pokeball back onto his belt and told Solomon to follow him back to the beach. Once he was there, he held up his hand, palm out, so his entire team could see.

"Thanks to a certain someone, this has to end prematurely so I can lick my wounds."

This drew out disappointed moans from most of Vic's Pokemon, except from Crescendo, who floated his way to his trainer with a look of almost paternal worry in his eyes. Vic could tell right away what his Chimecho wanted to do.

"Don't waste your energy. I can take care of it myself."

Crescendo knew the move heal pulse, which had come in handy in many tight situations in the past, but it required a lot of concentration, and it sapped the life from him, leaving him exhausted and vulnerable for a while. Something Vic did not want to risk just to make his booboos feel better. Although, Crescendo would not look away from the blood that was now dripping from his fingers.

"All right, everyone, back in their balls." He called all his Pokemon back into their respective homes, except for Flareon, who had his place at Vic's side, the events of the past few years having left a paranoid need to have immediate access to fire in him.

On the way back to his designated "home," the makeshift base made from the Riches' huge villa, rather than goose stepping through the towering sand dunes of the beach, he decided to take a shortcut through a shower house.

The shower house was an ugly, squat thing that rested on the shimmering sands, but, ironically, it had survived better than any of the delicate structures of shale and tile in town. It was not much more than a cube of grey concrete, but, other than some weather damage, it still stood confidently, without the blemishes bared by the other buildings, having been built for functionality rather than visual esthetics.

When Undella Town was still a popular vacation spot, people would come in to wash away a days worth of sand and salt from their hair and freshly tanned (or burned) skin, but after years of neglect, the old pipes had rusted shut, not allowing any water other than the occasional drip from the multiple shower heads jutting from the walls.

The floor had an almost spongy dampness to it, making Vic grimace as a squishing noise ensued every time his thick soles hit the ground. He would not dare come in here barefoot out of fear that mushrooms would sprout from between his toes. He carried his Flareon in his arms - taking great care to keep his bloody hand away from his fur - to spare his pads from the disturbing feeling.

The dampness, along from the dim light being filtered from between the blades of motionless fan vents, and the overpowering smell of mildew, made Vic very nervous. He walked slowly through the building and his eyes shifted left and right to glance into the curtained shower stalls. He had gone through the shower house several times before, but the dampness and the shadowy corners never failed to instill a measure of fear in him. Fear of the gels.

Vic whimpered and shook at the thought of the horrible creatures. He had had too many traumatic encounters with them not to feel an almost superstitious anxiety force itself into his mind. The gels, due to their partially liquid nature, preferred damp, dark, and cold places to build their hives in, and this place fit the bill perfectly. Vic kept reminding himself that there was nothing to fear here, that this place was safe, and even if something were to happen, Solomon was right here to help him.

Just make it through here, and you'll be home in no time, he thought.

"Oh, shit!"

Vic dashed in a cramped stall and pressed himself hard against the wet, tiled divider.

His heart raced and pounded against his ribcage, as if trying to escape his chest. The fear going through him was crippling, his knees buckling and his vision going blurry around the edges. Adrenaline rushing through his veins dulled the pain in his hand until he almost forgot about his injury.

He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. Why here? Why now? Where did it come from? Oh Arceus...help.

"Rrrrr?"

At the questioning vocalization, Vic looked down at Solomon's worried face. He leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"One of them are in the stall to the left of the door. Oh God, oh God." He panted heavily between every word despite trying to be quiet.

"We need to be very careful Solomon. One wrong move, that's all it'll need to take us down. We need you to get ready to fight."

To his surprise, Solomon cocked his head, clearly confused.

"God damn it, didn't you hear me. A gel is in this building!"

At that, his Flareon wiggled out of his arms and jaunted out of the stall.

"Solomon," Vic hissed from through his teeth. Tears welled up in his eyes in dread of losing his best friend.

He ran out of the shower stall after his Flareon, ready to face his fate along with his friend when he stopped dead in his tracks.

His jaw dropped at what he saw: Solomon was standing right in front of the stall where he had saw the hulking, dripping silhouette of the gel, holding the moldy curtain partially open with his teeth, revealing that there was nothing there.

"W-what?"

Not believing his eyes, Vic creeped over to the curtain, and threw it open. He looked around at every corner, as if a gel could hide there or had somehow blended into the walls.

"I-I swear I saw one right there. There was a gel right here just a few seconds ago!"

He looked down at Solomon as if he could provide an answer to clear his disorientation, but the Flareon gave him nothing.

Bewildered, he placed a shaky hand on his forehead, but recoiled when he realized he was using his bad hand, which, of course, caused blood to get on his face and even dribble into his slightly open mouth.

"Pah!"

He tried to spit out the salt/iron taste of his essence out from the back of his throat, but it seemed to have taken residence there.

"Ugh, some day this is turning out to be, huh buddy? Come on, let's get out of here before anything else happens."

They ran through the town, the frigid wind pushing at their backs. Vic could smell a storm coming. By the time he made it to the plated door of the Riches' villa, dark clouds were beginning to encircle the town from both outside the barricaded entrance gates of Undella Town and the darkening sea. Ominous shadows stretched and danced throughout the town.

With a grunt, Vic heaved the heavy, reinforced door open. He let Flareon enter first and in one swift motion, came in himself as the spring loaded door snapped shut behind them, leaving them in darkness. The only available light was provided by the warm, coal-like glow emanating from Solomon's body.

Vic wasted no time with turning on lanterns scattered around the vast, marble-laden foyer. Then, after tossing his bloodied cardigan onto the floor, did the same in the east wing of the massive ground floor, which had been made into a medical ward of sorts.

The whole place had a sterile smell to it, something alien in this abandoned world, and foam-padded cots lay every which way. Cabinets that Vic suspected were originally used to hold fine China or crystal ware lined the walls and were filled to the brim with medical supplies of various uses.

He dug around the contents with his good hand as he kept his other hand clenched in a tight fist by his face, trying to keep the cut closed the best he could and prevent any more bleeding. He could feel the wound clotting, which he supposed was a good sign, but he still had to clean and bandage it up. Even a minor infection could mean death with the short supply of antibiotics and professional care.

He took a single surgical glove from a box of dozens and carefully put it on his good hand. He then went inside a connecting washroom and stood over the sink with a bottle of distilled water and a clean bit of cloth in hand and other supplies stuffed in his pockets.

He wet the cloth and softly dabbed at and around the wound, wiping away dirt and dried blood. Inspecting the cut, he saw that it was not as bad as he originally thought. Harley had done a number on it, and it was going to take awhile to heal fully, but at least it did not need stitches. Vic breathed a sigh of relief at that.

"Harley," he whispered as he took out a tube of disinfecting cream from his pocket. "What am I gonna do with you."

He generously spread the ointment on his palm until he was satisfied and bound it in gauze bandages. He shook his hand to bring some feeling back into it and flexed his fingers, sending small shocks of pain up his arm.

Vic rolled his eyes, "Guess I'm just gonna have to learn how to be a lefty for a while." Of course his Sandslash would injure his main hand.

He wished that he could do something to get Harley to respect him just a little bit. He knew that Harley was more than a capable fighter, and that he would be an amazing asset to the team, but he was so distrusting and distant from him, he was often best left in his Pokeball at times. Vic knew not to take his Sandslash's actions too personally however.

He was not entirely at fault.

With his hand patched up and a flick of his hair, Vic left the washroom and whizzed passed Solomon, who was curled up in the seat of an antique chair by the grand staircase.

The Flareon eyed him with mild interest as Vic opened a large coat closet that stored mountains of extra clothing. He kicked off his shoes and quickly changed into fresh clothes: striped T-shirt, yellowish button-up sweater, black overcoat, jeans, and a pair of fingerless gloves, all to ward of the inevitable cold of the night. He also wore a red bandana tied around his neck, but that was never replaced. He always wore it. What else can you do with a parting gift from your father?

Later that night, when the grandfather clock heralded ten o' clock, Vic struck up an important conversation with Solomon.

"Ya know, I've been thinking about the, uh, events that have been happening the past few weeks, especially yesterday and today."

Thunder clapped outside, making the foundations of the windowless building shake. The storm was beginning to show its teeth. The wind sounded like a deranged banshee outside, making Vic wonder if this was more of a hurricane rather than a regular storm.

Vic shivered and pulled Solomon, his only source of heat other than his thermal blanket and clothes, even closer to him. He was in the west wing of the ground floor, the only place he would dare to sleep in the villa, and even then, he was uncomfortable.

Arguably, one of the cots in the medical bay probably would be preferable to a sleeping bag tucked into the furthest corner from the door, but not to Vic. The idea of sleeping on something where hundreds of sick or injured refugees before him had lay and maybe died on made him feel, not scared per se, but more like he was doing something inappropriate. Like he was desecrating a grave.

When he first discovered that the shelter that was Riches' villa was still standing, he considered building a shelter on the top floor, that seeming to be the safer option, but those plans were immediately snuffed when he saw that anything other than the ground floor was rendered inaccessible due to a chain link fence having been installed at the head of the stairs. It was welded to the floor and it reached the ceiling, so climbing it was impossible. The actual gate to the fence was held tight with thick chains and a padlock requiring a key. With no tools to pry them off, and an unwillingness to use the assistance of his Pokemon out of fear that he would accidentally destroy something else other than the gate, any hope of gaining access the upper floors were extinguished.

Vic supposed this was meant to square away a part of the villa as off limits, this was technically still the Riches' home after all, or maybe even create a panic room of sorts, but from the looks of things, it was never used. Just another mystery the residents of Undella Town left him to ponder about.

And so, Vic was left to settle on a musty rug in a cold room to sleep in, but, like Nuna would always say to him: it could be worse.

He shifted to pull his arm out from underneath him, making the foil-like substance of the thermal blanket crinkle.

"The way things have been going have been unacceptable, and I feel so terrible about. The last thing I want to do is hurt you or any other of my Pokemon."

Solomon put a comforting paw on Vic's cheek, as if to tell him that he has never really hurt him or anyone else.

"But, at the rate things are going, I'm starting to think it'll get to the point where I won't be able to take care of you."

Solomon's ears twitched worriedly.

Vic sighed, sat up and leaned against the wall, keeping his arms crossed for warmth.

"What I'm trying to say is, Solomon, my mind is starting to slip away from me. Don't try to tell me otherwise, you've seen how I've been acting. For the longest time, I thought it was because I was having trouble getting over what happened to Nuna, but that's not it, and now I've figured out what's been going on with me: I'm lonely Solomon."

He made a chirping sound of confusion.

"Don't take it the wrong way buddy, I know I have you and my team, and that's what's been holding me together for so long, but, God, how long have we been squatting here? Ten, eleven months? A year maybe? I don't even know any more. The days blur together so badly, I hardly even notice time passing sometimes. I know this may be a bit hard for you to understand Solomon. You're a Pokemon. You and every other Monster out there are so close to nature. You're perfectly content with living with nothing but your surroundings as long as there are resources you can use to survive. People aren't like that."

Solomon got comfortable and curled up into a ball by Vic's side, but kept listening. Vic was right in saying that he might have trouble fully understanding what he was trying to say, but he still wanted to remember everything he said. He could at least tell what he was saying was significant to him.

"Sure, we all want to think that we're loners and badasses, especially in times like this where it's survival of the fittest, but that's just not realistic. Human beings are a social animal, Solomon. The bond between trainer and Pokemon may be strong, but when it comes right down to it, we humans crave interaction with one another. Take that away, put a person in perfect isolation, they start to lose themselves, and that's what's happening to me. When's the last time we even saw another human being other than Nuna since we left home? Considering that the ones that tried to attack us don't count."

Solomon couldn't provide him with answer even if he could talk.

"Exactly."

He turned his head to look at the flickering flame inside the glass bulb of an oil lamp. Vic found the way the orange light, especially the way it reflected and bent against the glass, to be oddly fascinating. Beautiful.

"Wanna know something real messed up buddy? I actually miss that. I miss having to fight off lunatics for my dinner." He shook his head. "Who'd of thought."

"That's another thing about people Solomon; we lust after stimulation. We want something constantly going on in front of us. I honestly envy you Solomon. I really do. Pokemon are perfectly fine with just living, and look at me. I mean, I was the type that got upset if I missed an episode of Unovan Horror Story before broadcasting stopped. This place is just too peaceful Solomon. You saw what happened today in the showers. I genuinely thought there was something there. I wanted something to be there. The pure...monotony is getting to me so bad Solomon, I'm starting to hope something horrible will happen. Just to change things up. People have blown their brains out over less."

He rubbed his face to find that he was tearing up.

"This might sound terrible buddy, but I don't see how staying here any longer can turn out good. We're probably going to have to leave soon."

Solomon lifted his head in surprise and looked at his trainer slack jawed. Did he just say that they were leaving this paradise?

Vic ran his fingers through his shaggy hair.

"Please don't look at me like that Solomon. I know it sounds horrible and selfish, and it is, but I don't want our journey together to end because I lost my mind, and in turn lost you and my team." He fingered the red and white spheres that were forever clipped to his belt, his companions always by his side.

"I want to be with you and the rest for as long as my natural life will allow, but that can't happen if we stay here. Do you understand?"

Solomon took a minute to mull over and absorb what Vic had said. Some of it was lost on him, but he could understand that his trainer was saying that this place was hurting him to where he feared their journey would come to an untimely demise, something that spoke volumes to him. Yes, he did understand what Vic was saying, and he agreed with him. He only wanted what was best for him as well.

"Good. We'll tell the rest we've discussed tomorrow and try to gather as much by way of supplies as we can. We'll stay here one more night, but that's it. First thing in the morning the day after next, we're getting out of here. But now, we just need to focus on sleeping."

He took one last look at the dancing flame in the lamp, and turned it off, leaving the duo in darkness.

After packing as much as his back could carry, Vic walked to the entrance of Undella Town with his Flareon by his side. He called out Amethyst the Scolipede to help clear the barricade of heavy sandbags and wood pallets that he had set up out of paranoia when he first settled there, the loads being a breeze to the huge bug Pokemon. After thanking her, Vic called her back so she could rest and strutted through the gate with as much confidence as he could muster.

Half way through the long building, Vic stopped, struck with the urge to look back.

Solomon called out to him in befuddlement. He had wanted to leave right? Why was he stopping?

Shaking his head, he hitched his backpack and moved on. He didn't want to be like an animal that had lived in a cage all its life and linger near the door of his prison, unsure of what to do. He had made his decision, and he was going to stick with it, no matter what.

He bowed his head to let the brim of his hat shield his eyes from the strong sunlight streaming from Route 13. Despite the situation, Vic smiled. The world outside the haven Undella Town provided was dangerous and uncertain, but he knew that, as long as Flareon padded by his side and his Pokeballs clung to his belt, he would never be alone. For the first time in over two years, the future looked bright.

Taking a deep breath of the grass and damp earth that he had not known he had missed so much, Vic stepped onto the dirt path with no regrets.

His journey had truly begun.