Mark buries his head into his arms. He shakenly sucks in air. Layla jerks his shoulders around. "Mark! Please answer me! What's wrong?"
He curls up harder. "Nothing! Nothing's wrong! We're not in any danger, I'm sorry. I just had a memory. There's a lot I've forgotten."
She lowers onto her knees and reaches her claws to his head, easing him to look up at her. Her eyes open wide with concern. "Are you okay? What did you see?"
He looks at her face. His heavy breathing calms down and his muscles relax. "Alright." His legs cross and his hands settle in his lap as he speaks. "I must have been in the military on the surface. A medic, likely. We were in a war zone with crumbling buildings and everything - stuff I'm not sure you'd understand unless I draw it out. Everyone - humans and some Pokemon - was running away from some sort of 'dark void', stuff that looked like what's at the top of my tube. People who fell behind 'fell' into this dark magic, like it was a hole or something. And there were ghost Pokemon too. A lot of them, probably thousands. They ran the other way, trying to jump into the void, and most of them were smiling and laughing. Someone stepped on a landmine, and-" He gulps and winces as gory images flash his mind.
Layla rubs his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Landmine?"
He sways his head, not at her question but at the terrifying experience that happened after. "it's a device you step on, and it blows up. I was caught in it but I didn't take too much damage, but other soldiers passed away or were grievously harmed. I think some of them may have been my friends, but I can't remember that. One soldier in particular…"
The soldier's pleading words are in his mind. It makes him put a claw on his face and rock his head. He spits his words out. "I had to give a tourniquet to him, just like to Millie. He was begging for death. Other soldiers were dying around us. The void was meters away from us."
He lurches forward and shakes his head as if the thoughts would be tossed out of his mind. "I can't. I'm sorry."
Layla pulls him into a hug. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here."
"Millie. Everything about Millie was so calm and controlled compared to this. No threats. No complications. Everything about the underground just feels like it's been so calm compared to all this. I guess I've really been through worse? Like the underground is ideal? Normal!? Maybe? It's all stuff I'm now realizing I feel prepared for. What's wrong with me, Layla?"
Her hand strokes and pats his back. "You're okay. That makes sense. I used to be more afraid of everything until I had to get out of bad situations myself, now things just feel normal cause I survived worse. Here- were able to see the surface, though? That didn't look destroyed or anything, right?"
"The surface? Yeah. Buildings were falling apart but I think there were still trees in the distance. So the world's probably not dead if that's what you're worried about, although I don't know how many places would be under this 'dark magic' though."
Her head nods to every word. She slides away from the hug to show him an encouraging smile. "Well, the surface is real at least, and out there to find. That's a reassurance, don't you think?" After one more pat to his back, she stands up to offer a hand. "Think you'll be good to keep searching this place? There might still be clues. It'd probably get your mind off whatever you say."
He shakes his head. "I still need a breather." In and out, his breath steadies to normalcy and he moves his thoughts elsewhere, thinking over what Layla's said so far. "Actually, I have a question, I just realized something. Why haven't you told me any of that?"
"Any of what?" Her head tilts.
"The legends about the dark magic?"
The back of her foot taps. She props an arm up against the vat as she speaks. "I didn't actually believe that the dark magic was what destroyed the humans. Everybody fears these tales to some degree but it's mostly a City Guild thing, you know? They'd teach them to the young and talk about how if human artifacts didn't kill you, the guild would. And these tales got passed all the way down to people in the Pokemon Guild and Scrap Town, who still fear they may be dangerous. But why would humans destroy themselves with their own magic? It didn't make sense, so I thought there was no point telling you about bullshit, although I guess there may be some truth to those legends now. Either way, you said you remembered facts, right? I thought you'd know something about their 'dark magic' if it existed!"
Mark taps his chin. He definitely can't remember the cosmic void beyond what he's seen in his dreams. But that energy should still have a name. That'd be a fact! Not just that, but the person who interviews him in the dreams - shouldn't he have known her name since waking up? "I guess there are facts I forgot about too. I must have never thought of it cause I wouldn't have known what I don't know. I probably- no, definitely jumped to conclusions too fast." He scratches the top of his head.
She sighs and brief silence follows. Her claw's offered once more. "Hey, let's fix that. We'll find out what you forgot."
Mark grabs her forearm and gets hoisted onto his feet. "Yeah. Plus, I'm pretty sure there's some purpose why I'm down here. I want to find out what it was."
They both look around. A row of square bins lies on the wall opposite the entrance, blending in with the wall. "There," Layla says.
They're clean and glossy, with only finger- and paw-prints faintly visible once they approach them. Each of their lids have depressed handles in their center. A few strands of fur dirty the floor around them.
Mark taps the lid of a central bin. Layla goes to the far left one to bang a fist into the top.
"Layla!" he shouts and scrambles towards her. The corner splits and it caves in, exposing how cheap the plastic is. Mark pulls the lid off. Lying inside are grey shiny wrappers and a lot of empty space.
The wrappers make crinkling sounds as Layla prods them. "What are those?"
He swipes one and turns it around and a few crumbs fall out. The inside is matte. No text is on either side. "Food."
Her eyes widen. "What?!" She swipes a wrapper and throws it into her mouth.
"No! Not like that!" Mark grabs her arm but she's already chewing away, a cheek pushing out.
Her cheeks are popped out on one side. "Mmm?"
"The grey stuff is what wrapped the food! It isn't the food itself!"
A lump goes down her throat. "I don't understand."
He takes a deep breath and rubs his brow. He didn't need this, the warzone flashback was enough stress. "Okay. I'll rephrase. These aren't food. They would have wrapped the food you'd actually eat, but all of it's already eaten."
She puts her hands on her hips. "Oh! Okay!" She cocks her head and smirks from the corner of her mouth. "I've eaten weirder stuff though. I'll be fine."
Weirder than human artifacts you know nothing about? "Let's just check the other bins. Don't eat stuff unless I say it's safe. Actually, don't touch stuff either."
"Got it."
They go down the row of bins and pop each lid. There are twelve, one for each human-turned-Pokemon that would have come out of an empty vat. Each one had wrappers save for the last three, and some bins had water bottles which Layla thankfully didn't eat. The two before Mark's are completely empty, which made Layla look disappointed. But they're on the final one, the one meant for Mark.
No wrappers, but a whole stash of water, and tucked in the back are two yellowed pages of paper. English stretches across their faces.
"There! Right there!" Layla points at it even as Mark takes it out. Their left edges are rough like it was torn out of a book. The paper otherwise has few creases and only a bit of a bend as damage.
Mark reads it aloud.
"Mark,
"It's me, Mathew. I'm sorry, I needed to destroy the journal we used to pass information between us. We're at risk of someone named Lucia discovering too much, so I'm taking extra precautions. I really do not want a repeat of what happened with Regidrago down here. Still, here's what you need to know.
"Anthropy really fucked it up. They controlled the information so well that they've forgotten about us, while managing to gaslight everyone into thinking the info is more dangerous than it is. As a result, they prosecuted anyone sharing information not approved by Anthropy. It's been a massive headache over the centuries. Most of us have tried to go to them and talk about the surface and ended up being chased down or worse. Not that it matters, we haven't really ever met the conditions to return to the surface.
"I say 'approved by Anthropy;' Anthropy has ended up becoming something called the City Guild. I don't know if they were overthrown by a group that kept a lot of their same values and goals minus some religious aspects or they just ended up changing names, but Anthropy is no more. No one recognizes the name.
"There's also another guild, the Pokemon Guild. Stealing food's been a problem in the last 550 years and throughout two-thirds of that time span, the City Guild just exiled thieves and any other criminals to below the cliffs. Those exiles formed towns that grew their own food and eventually the City Guild and their allies gave up being nice guys and tried to take their food once they ran out of their own. The Pokemon Guild was formed to oppose them, and even take some of their own farms from them. The Pokemon Guild is more recent - I think they formed in the last 100 years or so?
"Either way, the previous leader of the City Guild as of this writing was overthrown before I woke up. Lucia is the current leader and from what I was able to gather, she believes the old guild was too passive with addressing the Pokemon Guild. She's been aggressively countering the Pokemon Guild and she plans to go to war with them. She's also more brutal at punishing criminals than the build in the past. And she's very popular, despite all that. We've gone full circle.
"Here's the very problematic thing about her. Despite defying the whole point of Anthropy - and I guess the City Guild - she's looking into human ruins, hoping to find a weapon to use against the Pokemon Guild. 'Breaking tradition and fighting unquestioned superstition to secure their future,' or something. She's been sending out parties to comb tunnels and is trying to decipher the Latin alphabet. I'm afraid she'll discover me or this place with how thorough she is. I buried the original journal.
"It's actually a bit twisted. The Underground's been so good at forgetting everything that they forgot what the real danger actually was. If they knew a bit more they would stop, although I guess the plan worked for centuries.
"That being said, all this guild conflict nonsense may be a blessing in disguise. If they go to war and one of them wins, we might have the best chance we ever had to go to the surface. It's fucked up but we don't have any other option. In a way, of fucking course this would. Fuck all this. Knowing the truth really hurts at this point.
"Either way, I'm going to take it easy and hide, hoping they will take the other out. Maybe you won't have to wake up at all! If you do though, try to find me, I'm sure I can help you even though I'll be 70 years old. I haven't ever used my real name but I have left a clue inside the Pokemon Guild. I figured if Lucia topples Merka - the Pokemon Guild's current leader - before you wake up, then I would actually want her to find me, y'know?
"Anyways, a few more things you need to know. There is incredibly little food. John also stole our rations so fuck him. Total scum. Get food sorted asap.
"And be careful of the substation. Criminals from both guilds ended up settling there, and it's now called Scrap Town. There are truly some of the most violent Pokemon out there living in the place. Just avoid it.
"Between The City Guild and Pokemon Guild, I recommend joining the latter. They're just closer, that's all.
"Also, Mystery Dungeons are a thing. They're formed when enough Pokemon fight each together in a close enough space. It's like, 7 fighting at once in the space of a room? The layouts change each time you enter them and they're filled with violent and irrational Pokemon - Pokemon who aren't considered real people. Money and food can show up inside but nobody knows why. Well, it's not hard to imagine, huh? Being put underground sure wasn't bad enough.
"There's a few Mystery Dungeons you should know about. Crystal Chasm Cavern is one of them. The ruins inside are already known to Lucia, which is why I'm okay mentioning it. Primordial Road is also a Mystery Dungeon. I know that sounds alarming but it weirdly kinda means nothing. Nobody knows it exists. Must have been made very early on. Either way, Lucia would need to search far and wide. She'll never find it in her lifetime.
"There's one more but I can't say it: Lucia must not even know it has significance. That should be a big enough clue for you to figure it out, especially if you ask Pokemon what Mystery Dungeons are out there.
"Lastly, people don't write with English letters anymore - which they call 'Human Script.' Pokemon write with 'Footpaw Script.' The letters are arrangements of shapes - the shapes can be anything, but their meaning is formed by their placement and orientation. Other than that, it's still English. You should be able to decipher it. Sadly it means Lucia won't take long to decipher it either.
"That's all you need to know. Here we are, 600 years later, assuming Lucia doesn't find you. Best of luck, Mark. And destroy this journal when you're done.
"Though if it's truly impossible and hopeless, just end it all. It'd be mercy for us. Although deep down I know you're the kind of person who couldn't do that…
"And Lucia. If you're reading this, please stop what you're doing. The truth's complicated but the warnings your guild used to teach did actually have an element of truth to them. Continue down this path and everyone will die. Try to make peace with the Pokemon Guild however you can and find the surface that way. It's the only way your city will find happiness."
Layla's awkwardly leaning her chin over Mark's shoulder. "Well? What else?"
"That's it," Mark says. He turns the pages around - there's a rough map behind one of them which also has a list of Mystery Dungeons and their locations. Primordial Road isn't listed.
"Well, do you remember anything more?" she asks, leaning her even head closer to the paper and making Mark lean away.
"No. Nothing. But I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to forget anything." He looks inside the bin, but there are no more clues.
Layla taps his shoulder. "Hey, we still discovered a lot. I always thought it was suspicious how much the City Guild cared about information about the surface, back when I was still living there. Before Lucia."
"Wait, what?"
She pushes her palms out and shakes them. "Y-yeah! I know! But I'm not like them! I was young. We got kicked out."
He waves both his hands. "No. 'Before Lucia?'"
"Yeah. She took over a little under a generation ago. Why?"
Concern grows across Mark's face. "The way this letter was worded makes me believe there were 50 years between each human waking up. Lucia would be really old if 50 years really did pass since Mathew wrote this. They must have awoken me early."
"'50 years?' Well, eh..." She cranes her head down and thinks for a few moments. "They were looking for you, so it's not surprising they found you." Her claw waves dismissively. "Either way, we definitely need to figure out more of your memories, and we need to learn more about what we discovered today. Myla and Andy may know something about this 'Anthropy' and 'Primordial Road' stuff, and possibly about this other human too."
He nods. "Yeah, we still need to know more. There may still be clues here though." He looks around. The lab's clean and empty beyond the tall tubes and their instruments around them. However, there's a faint outline of a door in the corner beside the bins. A subtle depression reveals a handle. Mark heads to it.
"Wait, I got this!" Layla says, running past him. She kicks it.
"Hey!"
It buckles without opening. An acidic order leaks out. Her foot pounds it again, leaving a scratch in the surface.
"Let me try it!" Mark says, brushing her aside. He grabs the hollow handle and slides it aside.
It's darker, emptier, and much smaller inside. Right across the door is a broom, dustpan, mop handle, and a trashcan. Plastic-wrapped wet pads for the mop rest around the ground by it. Mark walks to the can - dirty, used pads inside create the foul smell.
"Hey Mark, you're missing something!"
"Huh?" He turns around. There's a contraption like what's at the top of Mark's tube, but much larger. The red light rimming it is harsh and cosmic hues swirl in a grand ocean of cosmic hues beyond the glow. Cables thick and thin spew out of the base and snake up the walls into gaping ceiling panels above. Screams whisper in Mark's ears as he looks at it: he's unsure if it's a latent power of the energy or trauma planted in his subconscious.
"What's this?" Layla asks. She walks up to it.
"Wait, you're not going to kick it!" Mark says.
She has a leg up. "What?"
Mark sighs. "Use the end of the mop. Th-the pole, that is. And please stop touching and eating things you don't know about."
Still holding her leg up, she rubs her chin and considers this for far longer than she should. "Yeah, you're right. I just get too excited sometimes. I keep forgetting this dark magic." Her foot comes down and she picks up the pole. The top end is guided over to the flat top of the contraption, and with Mark giving a little nod, she taps it. Even though it looks like you can dive into the cosmic sea within, the pole clinks on an invisible surface.
"Should I tap it harder? Try to break it maybe?" Layla asks, tone calm this time.
"Nah. It could be dangerous and it wouldn't help us get closer to the surface, so no point risking it. Plus, it's probably powering the base."
"Power?" She looks back at him.
His finger points at the twisting cables and traces them into the ceiling. "Yeah, the lights here and likely the vats need power - energy - to work. Energy like attacks electrical Pokemon can make. This is probably providing that power, nothing else here seems to be providing that source."
There are more clinks as Layla taps different sides of the machine. "So, this really is dark magic."
Mark wants to refute it, but is he even sure that's wrong? What he saw on the battlefield didn't look natural. "Honestly, it could be."
She nods. "Great." Then she moves over to the can and peers into it. She pokes the end of the pole inside. "What about this?"
"Huh? Oh, mop pads. You attach them to the end of this handle and you can clean the floor with it. Once you're done, you throw the pad away."
"Wow, human dark magic is amazing." She tries to lift one up with the handle. "Safe to pick these up?"
"They're dirty. Plus, those aren't clues. They're used for cleaning."
"Boo." The pole jerks around, like she's seeing how squishy or durable the pads are. "By the way, what are those thick Ekans things coming out of that dark magic altar?"
He quickly figures out she's referring to the cables and obliges. She asks more questions, and it evolves into a long q-and-a where Layla asks about the plastic broom, the vats outside, the key terminal, the key, lights, plastic, and a lot of questions about rations. They end up touring the lab more as she branches off into more topics, which Mark happily answers. Abyssal seas aside, there is a lot about humans that really is extraordinary.
Eventually, her curiosity's exhausted. "Alright, let's go. We'll let Jace burn that human script thingy." She leaves the lab, turns around to get one last look inside, and beckons Mark out.
"Okay. I'm going to lock this ." He says and steps out to the terminal. The blacksteel is unusual - so much light floods out yet the terminal is a perfect shade of black. He puts the key in after remembering to put it upside-down. There's a quick mechanical chirr and everything becomes pitch black.
Layla's feet prattle around. "Wait Mark, what's going on?"
Mark waves his arm around, feeling the weight of the torch. He reasons where the end of it should be and squints hard. There's a pathetic ember of dark crimson at the tip. "Our eyes are adjusted to the light. Now we'd have to wait for them to adjust to the dark."
"What? Like if you were to leave the magma caverns? Bullshit." Her footsteps wander around until they get closer to Mark. She bumps into him and they both fall over.
"Ow. Hey!" he says. Her weight's right above him.
"Sorry there. I couldn't see you! Hey, let's stay like this."
"Huh?" He looks around, but can't see her. "Yeah. Sure."
She crosses her arms over his chest. He imagines her head's resting on top.
"Hey Mark, I'm on top of you," she says in a singsong voice.
"Yup," he mutters, still not seeing her. Shouldn't Sableye have night vision?
An epiphany hits him. He probably has had night vision the entire time - the caves have just been that dark the entire time. If it weren't for the torches, these caves probably have zero light, and night vision still needs that to see. These torches probably aren't that bright either, given the seemingly infinite longevity they have.
This is advanced darkness.
"Hey Mark, how flustered are you right?"
"Huh?"
Her claw prods his cheek. "You get all blushy and stuttery whenever I get close to you. Now the underground's most gorgeous lady is right on top of you and you're all calm?"
"I can't see the beautiful girl on me… Plus I thought you did this sort of affection for emotional support."
There's silence before Layla rolls into sitting on top of his belly. "Eh, not all the time. Sometimes I just want a cute guy to go 'Oh my god a pretty girl aaaa.'"
He chuckles nervously and pokes her side. "W-well, you are the most beautiful girl in the Underground."
"You know it, Mark."
"It's true!"
They laugh, the long hallways echoing it.
"Although please get off me, this is hurting a bit," Mark says, patting her side.
"Aww." She gets off.
"I'm sorry!"
There is more prattling as Layla walks in circles. Eventually, Mark's own body comes into sight, and many moments later, his teammate. The curved walls of the tunnel follow. He stands up and holds his arm out for Layla to take.
It's a long walk and both were silent in thought. Smiles stayed on their faces the whole walk home. Finally, success.