Chapter 30: Buried

There wasn't a time where she didn't want to meet the overly friendly Dragonite - until now. Being slightly deranged and definitely sick hardly made a pleasant encounter, but Siria felt it to be of utmost importance to talk with someone before she fell to even madder tantrums.

Of course, deep down, she knew said friend sitting across the table from her already knew of her thoughts, and was thankfully sympathetic towards them. Her green eyes intelligently shaping up the Latias, Alyssa took a calm sip from her drink. "So," she ventured with a slight claw-wave, "You're here about something psychological. There's obviously something troubling you about your service so far, huh?"

"Only you could deduce my motives so quickly," the Latias exchanged with a short chuckle. Being friends since gradeschool sometimes had that side effect. While often yielding embarrassing and hilarious results (often simultaneously), there were instances where such a link proved itself useful - such as now.

"So Siria, what can Alyssa Spark, Ph. D., do for you?" Her eyes gleamed with mirth, matching a small, sarcastic grin gracing her yellow jawline.

"Ph. D., my ass! You're not even a graduate student; don't sell yourself short," Siria said, evoking a laugh from the Dragonite accross the table. The red dragon's countenance darkened though as she said in a much lower tone, "PTSD," cutting quickly to the core of her problems.

Alyssa's grin disappeared in a flash, replacing itself with narrowed eyes and a tightened jaw. "Symptoms?" she queried.

"Inability to sleep. Inability to focus. Nightmares."

The Dragonite shifted slightly in relief. "Nothing like sudden tremors, twitching, muscle spasms, or anything of the sort?" she asked, pair of glasses seeming to have emerged from nowhere. Had the Dragonite been wearing a coat and had the backdrop been an office rather than a coffee shop, Siria would have sworn that she was actually babbling her brains out to a psychologist.

Alyssa reclined slightly in her chair as the shake of the head, claw grazing the chin of a puzzled face. "Sounds like someone just needs a good talking to, actually," she said much to Siria's surprise. "Sounds like there's a lot of stuff in hat head you've kept bottled up for a fairly long period of time, lots of suppressed thoughts that are giving you these ghosts. Metaphorical," she said as Siria started. "I'd be a bit more concerned if there was a Gastly haunting your soul."

A tight nod. "Yeah, it's actually been a while since I've talked about anything to anyone, really." She forced a half-hearted grin as she mentally slapped herself. Why was the stem of her problems always simple, little things; why did she have to overthink everything. She was deathly scared of talking to anyone about the problems she'd been experiencing ever since her brutal introduction to Shadow Pokemon. She couldn't talk to her comrades or even Shadrach about it; he'd probably be both disbelieving of the Shadow incidents and insensitive to her feelings, mostly because she doubted he could understand. Do you talk to someone who doesn't understand fear about how scared you are?

"You look kind of troubled right now, actually, so we should start with... Hey, Siria, up here," she said with a clack of her claws, snapping her out of her thoughtful gaze. "What's on your mind?"

"I don't believe it."

Despite having emerged from their first counseling session, Shadrach swore that this must have been the fifth or sixth time the Garchomp had uttered those words in sheer disbelief. News about Din's suicide had traveled far and fast, and those having had most interacted with him - his squad, namely - were essentially forced into counseling. The disgruntled Umbreon understood how it would be useful to soldiers who haven't had their stones turned to iron. Although that trait, cultivated from years of serving in Special Forces and the occurances beforehand, was not something he would voluntarily boast, it had its conveniences.

Unfortunately, its convenience wore thin after just the first session - may Arceus help him, seeing that they had five more to go. He found himself so disinterested by the session that he almost fell asleep, which is something that a Special Forces operator should never do in an environment that demanded some form of awareness.

Obviously, times were dark for Shadrach.

"It'll be fine," an Ampharos behind him soothed, probably rubbing Nuwai's back as the land shark fought back a few tears. Not like he hadn't heard those hollow, awfully generic words a hundred thousand times. The same thing would probably happen again, with the Garchomp further expressing her disbelief loudly, and everybody either chiming in and comforting her. The Umbreon's mind was far more occupied by other things, though.

The events that had occurred in the past couple months were abnormally freakish, an achievement considering all the bad shit that he had to go through. What Siria had mentioned about their enemies being super-enhanced war machines sounded absurd on its face, despite his desire to accept all of her arguments as cogent. But the Nidoking, the Typhlosion, their unnatural, powerful attack... how they split the earth open, turned their truck to splintered glass and ash from such a distance... and the riddle the Nidoking told him, too. The riddle in itself seemed to lend truth to what he had witnessed, forbearing mythical tales or some crap of that sort.

Needless to say, all of this deeply upset his past beliefs about what the Halcyians were dealing with in what seemed to be a fairly standard albeit difficult insurgency.

He stopped when the rest of the group stopped, looking up from his thoughts to see the hospital tents they stopped by every day. Jul remained in a coma, as usual, diagnosed as probably never being able to reemerge. Even if he did, Shadrach thought, his ability to fight would be highly mitigated. If his mental faculties did not go, then the coma would rob him of his physical capabilities which, even if he was able to recover them, would probably not match the ferocity with which he fought before. Losing such a skill set made him less efficient and probably incompatible with the standards that Special Forces demanded of the former Resistance Militia members.

A sudden bang and the sound of clattering medial utensils brought all of them into attack stances, watching the entrance warily as staff ran out yelling. Moments later, a green blur dashed through the pole that held the tent's entrance open, slicing it cleanly in two. Said Pokemon stopped suddenly in front of Levina, facing the Ampharos with a defiant, angry stare.

"Jul? Jul!" Nuwai exclaimed excitedly, almost jumping a bit. Her voice hadn't been that happy for some time, Shadrach noted.

Instead of returning any sort of response, he thrust a sudden punch into Levina's gut, causing her to double over. "Where is Din? Where is Din?" the Leafeon shouted next to her ear, eyes bulging.

Shadrach took no time in tackling the Leafeon, bringing his face down to the icy dirt in a fluid motion. "Stand the fuck down, Jul!" he yelled before being shoved back. He had completely forgotten how powerful Jul really was.

He heard some fabric rip as he leaned back from a Leaf Blade aimed at his chest, unholstering his weapon as Jul finished the attack. Had Shadrach not acted on his instincts, he knew for a fact that his organs would be splayed out on the snow. "Stand down," he said calmly despite his close encounter with death. "You're in no position to attack us. You come close, I put one between your eyes." The Umbreon heard an angry snarl from Nuwai, but he didn't quite care. He was in a foul mood anyways.

The Leafeon darted at Shadrach's legs, the two falling into the muddy snow before Shadrach even had a chance to slip a claw around the trigger. "Where? Is? Din?" Jul screamed, squatting on top of him. As the Leafeon brought a hardened leaf blade close to Shadrach's neck, the Special Forces member brought his knees close to his chest and kicked out. Jul flew back several feet and landed at Nuwai's feet, angry amber eyes meeting much softer ones.

"Jul... calm down. Jul?" Nuwai's voice, although soft, carried a hint of steel that definitely warned of bad things to come if she had to get involved. Despite being assigned a new uniform since her evolution, the obvious taut muscles only reinforced the Garchomp's implied threat.

His face seemed to soften for a moment in recognition of a very familiar sight. "Nuwai, you can tell me? You can tell me where Din is, right?"

Upon this question, the land shark's facade faltered. The distraught face, born from gruesome memories, hardly improved the Leafeon's temperament. He picked himself up off the ground and threw off the Garchomp's attempts to restrain him. There was one 'mon who would most definitely have answers. He had all he answers.

He leaped forward at the Umbreon, who still had a pistol trained on him. However, Jul felt no pain and heard no blast as he once again tackled Shadrach to the ground, lying on his legs to make any future attempts to kick him off futile. "Where is he?" Jul screeched, voice starting to strain from all the yelling. "Where the fuck is he? You know; tell me!" To make his demands a little more heard, the Leafeon dealt a blow to Shadrach's chest, drawing blood from the new gash in the Umbreon's combat vest.

At this point, Shadrach had to weigh his odds. If he tried to stall until his partners could do something about this maniac on his body, chances were that he wouldn't have a head to think with much longer. If he told Jul about Din's unfortunate... events, he didn't know what the enraged 'mon would do at all.

Both options scared him, but only one had a surefire gruesome outcome. "Din is...," he grunted out in pain, feeling cool air make contact with his cut, "Din... is..."

"Is what? Din is what-"

Jul said nothing more as a string of electricity splashed his back, causing the Leafeon to stiffen and simply fall off of Shadrach. He saw Levina in the distance, looking definitely pissed off with a bright glow wrapped around her hands. "You motherfucker," she snarled as she stomped over to Jul. "You want to know what happened to Din so badly? So badly that'd you try to kill all of us?" The Ampharos took in a breath, feeling pain in her gut from that previous punch.

"He shot himself in a bathroom stall. He's dead, Jul."

He stared at her, widened eyes looking to everybody for some sort of denial, anything to deny what he heard from the Ampharos' mouth. He didn't believe Shadrach, who issued nothing but a toughened nod. He didn't believe Levina, who glared daggers at him.

But he definitely believed Nuwai, the Garchomp's face contorted in a terrific, grieving, mess.

Siria told her almost everything, whatever her memory provided except for those certain details considered confidential or higher. She told the Dragonite about how she was almost raped, how she had to deal with all of her comrades falling around her, how she had to cope with killing such... complex enemies. Even so, she might have let a few slip, but she didn't quite care during the tumultuous, emotional roller coaster. She was just glad that she was able to get all off her chest without any fear of retribution, and even more thankful that Alyssa only sat and listened the entire time, not interjecting once.

"So..." she said, rubbing one of her antennae in thought, "That's... a lot that has happened to you over the past year, all horrifying and definitely not what I expected of you when we split paths. I'm... I'm sorry, Siria, for all of the horrible things that have befallen you since then."

"I came here for talk, not sympathy," the Latias replied perhaps a little too stiffly, seeing the Dragonite back up in her seat. "Err... what I meant to say is, I appreciate the condolences and all, but I'd rather figure out how to fix this than hear that someone's sorry."

"Oh, I wasn't just going to say sorry," Alyssa reassured her. "If anything, I wanted to get at the core of all the problems that are aggravating you. We'll work it like a timeline, starting from what started all of this so we have a frame of reference and dig everything out along the way. This would means that we would start from when... you got..." She grimaced as they exchanged glances, both perfectly aware of how heavy the topic was.

Siria let out a long sigh, face sinking into her hands for a moment. "The attempt on my body, yes." Such a roundabout expression for what had actually happened to her! "It's just... I felt so incredibly violated and helpless, even though I learned all these skills and went through the Distortion and back, I would fall victim to such a shit-eating bastard, just like that! It makes me think, unjustly so, what the hell all of my training had been for if I would just end up succumbing to him."

Alyssa narrowed her eyes. "Do you mind if I intrude on an earlier memory, a few years back when we were still together in school?" She leaned forward a bit, making sure to meet the Latias eye-to-eye to communicate how seriously she took this qusetion.

"You mean when that overly zealous Rhydon tried to rape me," she said flatly.

"In a word - yes," the dragon said, words showing none of the hurt on her face. "However, we really cannot dismiss it as just someone 'tried to rape you'. The counseling you received thereafter didn't work out as planned, judging from your mental condition right now, which kind of discourages me since I'm not exactly half as trained as them," she said with a nervous laugh. "Though, knowing you a lot better than anyone but your brother, I'll try my best with it."

As awful as she felt inside, Siria attempted a hesitant, but actual smile. "Thanks, Alyssa. It all started with..."

"Hey, what's got you down bro?" The Latios found a Machoke sitting next to him at the table, looking at him a bit concernedly. Leonard, he had learned, ranked one up higher than his father in the factory, and took great liberties to express how close he was to his father. "Is your old man still in the hospital?"

The question hardly assisted in lightening Sirius' mood. A lot of things happened in the past week - his father getting hospitalized, Siria coming out about all these night terrors, getting reminded of their shot-to-shit family...

He looked forlornly at his sandwich, lack of appetite forcing him to wrap and pocket whatever remained of it. He's at home, thankfully," he said, hoping his face looked half as truthful as he imagined it.

"Hey, now, don't give me that crap. I know a problem when I see it, and boy, do you have some skeletons." He chuckled a little as he took a swig from a water bottle. "Your dad always used to tell us stories about you and your sister all the time, how you were good at this or how she won that award and all that fatherly stuff. He's a good 'mon, I'll tell you that!"

"Yeah-"

"But, now," he said, interrupting the dragon, "There were a bunch of things that he told me that weren't all so great, you know? When he told me you guys were coming back, he nearly broke down in my office, and you know I really can't have that going around." The fighting-type looked a little more serious now, face stoic and tone dark.

"That's why I reckon he went and damn burnt himself on the machine, cause he couldn't handle all that stress. I tried to help, I swear, but he just wouldn't have it."

Sirius bristled. Latios and Latias were filial creatures, family sacred and near their heart. "So what's the point in telling me all of this? Why do you care so much about us?" he asked defensively.

Leonard's eyes lit for a moment. "Cause you're gonna help me fix him. I've known him since we were high school buddies, and I'm not going to let him quit on me now. So are you gonna help me or not?"

A wary nod.

The Machoke sighed. "Well, from what I learned from your dad's ramblings, he doesn't - Hey! Yeah, you!" he yelled at a Quilava shuffling past him. "Do I pay you to just walk around all fucking day? Get the fuck back to the smelter before I throw your stupid ass in there! Move fucking faster, ya dickhead! Did a Glalie freeze your goddamn feet together?"

Sirius couldn't help but smirk at at the quickly retreating fire-type. "You can tell that I value really good workers," he said with a shake of his head, "Not retards like these, which is why your dad means that much more both to the company and me. I can't go off losing someone like him."

"That part couldn't have been communicated enough," the Latios said.

"Yeah, I get you. Anyways, to get back to the point, your dad thinks that you guys think nothing of him."

Sirius blinked at how abruptly he dropped that piece of information. Then he blinked again as he tried to process what exactly his father felt. Then... "What? Why?"

The Machoke drained the rest of his water bottle, compressing it flat with just one hand. "Something to do with you guys falling out of high school and into the military." he said nonchalantly.

"The fuck did you say?" The dragon snarled as he stood up, slamming his claws on the table. "What the fuck did you say? You piece of shit-"

"Hey, hey man, calm down," Leonard said, putting his palms up. "We can talk about this in a more... private place." He stood up and motioned for the enraged Latios to follow him.

"Fuck you-"

"Follow. Me." Although Sirius was rather tall, this was the first time he realized that the Machoke towered above him. Rage barely suppressed, his instincts told him that his chances of survival would be increased by listening to this very large 'mon. Growling, the dragon slowly followed, muscles never softening.

"And all you motherfuckers," Leonard yelled to the no small amount of workers watching, "Get the fuck back to work!"

"I really have to apologize for that," the Machoke said, settling behind his oak desk. "Both for the careless comment and making a scene. I didn't realize how close it was to you."

"Accepted," Sirius responded tersely from a rather plush chair. "But why the fuck would you ask me something like that?"

Leonard sighed. "I'm just looking out for your dad, you know, even if it means talking to his kids behind his back. He still thinks you guys see him as a failure and all that cause of what he said about, well..." This time, he offered much more reticence in speaking. "You guys getting expelled."

The Latios' expression immediately soured, seat becoming immediately uncomfortable. "Yeah, we got expelled. What about it?"

"Well, one of the things he was really worried about was cause he couldn't keep you guys in school, and from the looks of it, he tried pretty damn hard. What did you guys do, anyways, to make him think like that?"

Sirius would have most definitely responded with a sarcastic, "Oh yeah, so it's my fucking fault!"... except it was. The Machoke's question really took the wind out of his sails as he stared dumbly at the fighting-type's gray, stony expression.

Honesty was the best policy. "I beat the tar out of a rich fuck who tried to rape my sister. I put him in a coma."

Whatever the Machoke expected, it was most certainly not that. "Damn," he said with a low whistle. Sirius was certain that he was searching for something else to say, but couldn't materialize any response. "Just... damn."

"Yeah."

"I can see why your dad had so much trouble. Even fighting tooth and nail can't ward off an offense like that, really... I'm sorry, man," he said with a bow of his head.

Despite his lack of psychic abilities, Sirius could feel the emotion in Leonard's voice. "It's fine," he said huskily. "I didn't imagine dad would have felt so bad about not being able to keep us in, though. I thought he knew that there was no way he could work it no matter what." His voice was dull - all of this information was so new, so fast...

"So do you think he's a failure for letting you guys down?"

"The hell? No, I don't! Neither of us do! What the hell kind of question is that?" the Latios asked indignantly. "He went through hell and back trying to keep us in against all the odds cause of something I did, and he thinks that he's the failure? Why would he even decide to think - dammit Dad, you idiot!"

He heard a small beep, looking up to see the Machoke pocket a small recorder. "And that's all I need," he said softly, making eye contact with the Latios. "Thanks, Sirius, I really mean it."

"But-"

"I'll help your dad out from here. You guys only have a few days with him at most, so make the most of it! I'm here for fucking forever, so I'll help him back out of whatever the hell he's in." He rose from the desk, trundling to the door. "Take the rest of the day off, Sirius. You deserve it for all that I put you through.

As the door slammed shut, confusion dominated the dragon's mind. What the hell just happened? His supervisor dug up a battery of bad memories, recorded what he had said, thanked him, and then left? Was he supposed to feel happy that his father would be getting help, or angry that he got played like that, or indignant that someone would so brazenly ask him about his family life, or just straight-up confused?

Sirius made for the door, opting just not to think about what transpired.

Despite her struggle to force him off with psychic power, the mass of the rock-type's body was simply too substantial. "Don't struggle," he warned between pants, claws cutting through her clothing, "Or your friend will lose a couple somethings." Siria shot a look behind her, seeing the Dragonite limp in the Scyther's arms. One of the gleaming blades laid close to her wing.

Siria prayed to Arceus that Sirius had received her distress call, that he'd be here in a few seconds to set everything right in this world. There was no way, no way, that this well-to-do prick was going to actually succeed in violating her body. She could prevent it; she WOULD prevent it!

Such ambitions faded as the Rhydon slammed her against a cold brick wall in an attempt to deprive her of her shirt and jeans. A small part of her died when she saw her favorite Lugia shirt ripped in several pieces on the ground, but the greater portion of her mind screamed that she was nearly naked from the waist up - no, make that her entire body...

Why did she have to be so selfless? Why did she have to care so much about Alyssa, about what fate would befall her if the Latias didn't succumb to the rock-type's baseless demands? She imagined the gruesome things he would soon do to her as something she'd first enjoy with her mate for life as a consummation - not a rape! She wasn't ready for this! She had years of training in combat from her parents, a lifetime of learning how to defend herself, and it came down to this? Being cornered by a wealthy magnate's brat, unable to resist because a friend would be gravely injured for her refusal?

Sirius, where are you...? she thought desperately, feeling those hideous claws starting to work her body. As he lecherously began to reach for undergarments...

A thump and a howl of pain sounded from behind, the Scyther tasked with threatening the Dragonite spurting blood from a fresh cut on his shoulder. Alyssa laid face-down on the ground, as motionless as before.

As the Rhydon grunted in shock and turned about, his grip released on the Latias. She quickly and wisely took this time to gather Alyssa and carry her to one of the higher rooftops overlooking the alley. If her estimates were correct, things were going to get ugly fairly quickly down there.

"Hey!" she heard the Latios shout. "What in Arceus' name did you think you two were doing to those girls?" As expected, the tone was laden with pure anger, as a brother tends to possess after witnessing a near-rape of his sister.

A snort. "What does it look like? Trying to score some cheap pussy."

"That happens to be my sister." She saw Sirius fix the Rhydon with a cold stare, wisps of blue mist flowing out of his mouth. The Latias had never heard his voice in this capacity before - she was always used for some sort of singsong, joking undercurrent.

This one was serious on a level where nothing short of Arceus' wrath would stand between him and the object of his anger.

"Well, 'mon," the rock-type said blatantly, puffing out his chest, "Let me tell you, from what I've seen, you're sister's nothing but a cheap slu-"

The Rhydon didn't even manage to get the first insult in before the dragon roared in unmatchable rage, bringing a Dragon Claw straight up the Rhydon's torso. The expensive polo shirt virtually melted in the face of the heated attack as it rent three white-hot, unmistakable gashes in the rock-type's stony chest. Altho\ugh his hide was much harder than flesh, the scars glowed an angry red from the ferocity of the attack.

Siria wanted to yell over the screams of the Rhydon to warn of the Scyther coming up behind him, but her brother was one step ahead. He whirled around and aim a well-timed Aerial Ace right at the bug-type's shoulder, evoking a sharp crack as an arm dislocated. Another Aerial Ace and the second arm met a similar fate. A third, and the body looked like a ragdoll when it collided solidly with a brick wall, trailing blood as it sunk to the ground.

The Scyther dispatched, Sirius looked back toward the Rhydon. He was apparently more preoccupied with the tender wounds in his chest than the avatar of death looming above him. "What did you have to say about my sister?" the Latios asked simply, yet looking as if he could reduce the rock-type into chunks.

"That's she's a grade A slut!" he spat back, hardly tempering his words and seeming completely unaware of the situation around him. "You can't beat me up! My dad will get your stupid dragon-type ass good-"

The last word seemed to sail out of his mouth as the Latios punched him in the jaw hard enough to dislodge more than a few teeth. Siria clapped her mouth with her hands as saw the pain on her brother's face, but the most he offered was a grunt as his knee connected with a rocky face. "You don't talk about women like that," Sirius growled softly, yanking him up by the horn and shoving his face into the Rhydon's.

The rock-type's mouth tried to formulate a response. Only blood poured out, though, with a hint of several teeth.

"Now listen." Grip still firm on the horn, the Latios forced the rock-type's gaze up to where his sister stood. "You don't treat women like that, either." A crack and a thud as the blue dragon threw the Rhydon into one of the walls, creating a sizable dent as the rock-type's face became powdered with mortar and brick. In a less stressful situation, Siria would have been impressed that he was able to pick up such a heavy 'mon and toss him so far. Pure, unadulturated rage tended to have such an effect.

However, now she was only preoccupied with their safety, and to an extent, the Rhydon's. If her brother went as far as to kill him, then...

As Sirius picked him up by the throat, the Rhydon blubbered out gibberish, body gone limp from shock. "No apology fixes what you attempted to do to my sister. Nothing you say or do will make me stop. Nothing..."

Mid-threat, Siria jumped down, nearly falling over as she tried to drag her brother back from the rock-type. She got him to relinquish his grip on him, though, even if the faint traces of an Ice Beam lingered on his breath. "Brother," she hissed, "If you go any further, you'll kill him."

"'mon like him deserve to be killed."

"Well, yes, but the trouble we can get in, Sirius! They'll come for him and then come after us-"

He growled audibly at her, causing her to flinch. He had never done that before... then, again, there were a lot of things he did today that he had never done before... "Then let them come."

"Sirius-"

"Sister. He tried to rape you. He was going to rape you. He would have gotten away with raping you if I hadn't arrived in time. And you," he said, voice starting to tremble, "You want me to stop. You want me to reconsider what I'm doing to this bastard and stop! I swear to Arceus, if it's the last thing I do, I will-"

Siria heard nothing after that as her brother's eyes, lit in white light. The world seemed to spin as a heavy psychic presence assaulted her mind, shattering whatever defenses she could attempt to mount and forcing her into a deep sleep.

The last thing she remembered was her brother pinning the Rhydon, also knocked out cold, against the wall, attempting to get his jeans off...

"And do you know what happened off of that?" Although Siria knew that Alyssa was trying her hardest to maintain a professional composure, her the Dragonite's face showed a clear amount of sorrow as she heard her friend's near-rape recounted. She found herself trembling as she completed the narrative, tears threatening to cascade down her cheeks.

"I... he... he castrated him."

A terse nod.

"And that was when everything fell apart, when we got ourselves expelled, when... when family became an issue, and..." She slumped miserably, putting her face in her hands.

She felt a claw touch her on the shoulder, noticing that Alyssa had reached over the counter. "I'm sorry for creating such a scene before you, for looking so weak..." the Latias mumbled, averting her gaze from the yellow dragon before her.

"To be true friends with someone is to recognize that they have weaknesses. I'm not hearing anything I don't already know, but I thought it'd be important if you said it out loud, for yourself..." For someone who was normally playful and bubbly, Alyssa was truly perceptive and intelligent - something that Siria rarely took for granted.

"But see, look, we're sitting here discussing everything, but we aren't really looking at how to fix what's wrong. C'mon, Siria, smile for me?" The Dragonite drew the crying Latias' hands away from her face. "Look at me."

Choking on her tears, she reluctantly did so. If her face was a mess, Alyssa was certainly good at concealing her opinions. "Listen here," she said, sighing. "I know it'll be hard for you now, but I want you to do a simple exercise." After a moment's pause to determine whether Siria was listening or not, she said, "I want you to figure what is similar and what is different between what happened with the Rhydon and what happened with the Glaceon. Can you do this for me, Siria?"