Apologies for taking a while with this one! It's currently about one in the morning and I'm barely lucid by this point, but I hope you enjoy!
With a groan, Nanu awoke, feeling the warmth on him escape as the numerous Meowth that had decided to sleep on him scattered, all at once. Persian, however, barely moved at all from where she was, sprawled out over Nanu's legs. She was lazily looking over at Gladion, who was doing no better-over his entire body lay a large Crobat, its wings wrapped around his body, and below him, Silvally was slumbering with the rest of the team curled up next to them. A Weavile lay on Silvally's back, while a Lucario was rested against the large Pokémon's mane. In front of them lay a Porygon-Z, collapsed in a heap between Silvally's front legs.
Sleeping through such things and missing how they happened was nothing new to Nanu. Acerola would tease him endlessly about it, but the truth was that he'd hardly been able to care much about having a decent sleep schedule. Either he slept far too much or barely at all. That was how it had always been, and it was no doubt how it always would be.
Persian anchored him to the sofa, her watchful eyes moving slowly from the boy to her trainer. The station was still dark, and even the Meowth didn't seem to want to deal with staying awake for a moment longer, each one retiring to a bed somewhere else for the rest of their nights.
Looking at Gladion again, something hit Nanu: The boy was awake. Neither one of them had managed to get a decent night's sleep, and now they lay in the moments just before dawn, silently reflecting on whatever had been troubling their minds.
Gladion rolled over to face away from Nanu, the Crobat on him barely shifting as he moved, only gently repositioning itself so that it'd still be able to hug its trainer through the night.
Gently shoving Persian off him, Nanu stood up.
If nothing else, he'd be able to drag himself outside for a moment.
Po Town was quiet that morning. It still felt uncanny, not hearing the bickering of Skull grunts constantly, though Nanu could barely remember any that were early risers in the first place.
The weather had cleared. It was a rarity out in the area, and Nanu could recall numerous times where he'd been told to cherish such a thing.
Cherish it...he wished he could, sometimes. It was exhausting, though, simply facing the world in the morning. The night sky was slowly clearing away, yet he hardly felt any more renewed at the sight, especially not after the conversation before.
Symbiont. The Beasts. Fallers. Everything had been coming back, and Nanu could hardly say he hadn't expected such a thing. After every historical account of Nihilego, there was no way it wouldn't return, time and time again, and take another victim with it each time.
Of course, nobody had expected a retired Champion, particularly not one with the status and power of Steven Stone. Nobody would ever expect such figures to be able to fall victim to such a creature.
In that sense, Nanu supposed that Nihilego was just like any other disease. It hardly cared about who it affected, it only cared for its own continued survival, and it would tear down as many people and Pokémon as it had to in order to ensure that survival.
It was almost sickening, thinking about it. It had no way of knowing what it was doing to the world, yet it continued to exist and destroy…
And now it was back, and they'd be sending Anabel after it again.
What a world he lived in.
The door to the station opened once more, just as the sun was beginning to show itself on the eastern horizon.
Gladion emerged in riding gear.
"...Leaving so soon, then?"
"Yeah," Gladion breathed, his voice like gravel, "I'll be out of your hair as soon as a Charizard's available."
Nanu barely replied, instead turning his attention back to the dawn.
Silence.
"...Do you normally do this?" Gladion asked, returning his Ride Pager to his bag, "It doesn't seem like you."
He wasn't wrong, that was for sure. Nanu could barely remember the last time he'd actually stayed out to watch the rising sun. If anything, it now felt ominous, a reminder that their time could be limited as the fight against the Beasts went on. They could be on their last few days, and Nanu could barely find it in himself to let such a thought disturb him.
Gladion, on the other hand...Gladion was young, and he had reason to fear his own mortality. The kid had family left, family he'd clearly cared about. He had an anchor to the living world so long as that sister of his was around.
It was no wonder that he'd sent people to Kanto.
"...Do you know what the others are capable of, boy?" Nanu's words came out slower, as if he'd been trying to put more meaning into them than usual. "You've seen Symbiont firsthand. It's hard to say if it's the worst or not, though."
"This is about Guzzlord," Gladion guessed, "Isn't it? I've read plenty about what it's capable of."
Nanu exhaled and closed his eyes. Having to bring up the memory for Moon had done enough of a number on Nanu's system.
"...Don't let it get close to anyone," Nanu advised, "Or they will die."
Gladion's Ride Pager buzzed, causing Gladion to rummage through his bag for a moment before taking out the device. Taking the glowing Poké Ball from the top, Gladion turned back to Nanu, then to the sky, the sun casting a vibrant yellow glow across the horizon.
"...I'll be off, then," he stated, "Thank you for your information."
Nanu simply nodded. The sun...the warmth felt unusual to him, suddenly. New. He couldn't tell if he'd liked such a feeling or not.
A Charizard emerged from the Poké Ball Gladion was holding, and the boy climbed onto its back, looking once more to Nanu before having it take off into the morning sky.
The need for sleep took hold of Nanu once more.
Maybe he'd finally be able to go back to sleep this time, at least until the cats started to bug him about feeding time. Always an exciting time.
With Gladion off on his own and nothing else planned, save for that possible visit from Acerola that he'd forgotten about for so long, Nanu returned to the station, Persian following closely behind, in hopes of a few more hours to himself.
Dawn kissed the Conservation Area gently, providing the first traces of light in Aether Paradise. Heels clicked along the mechanical walkways, followed by the rapid tapping of Corsola steps. This alone was enough to wake several of the Pokémon in the area.
The melodic song of an Oricorio rang out through the air. Wicke closed her eyes and took in the sound of it, realizing that it'd been some time since she was up in such a place early enough to hear such a thing. Every other day, something seemed to drag her to other parts of Aether, be it a meeting, an injured Pokémon somewhere else in the structure, or, in more recent times, anything involving Steven. It'd been nice to have a morning to herself for once, if only because it meant that things were starting to calm down.
Wicke leaned against the railing in a corner of the stark white walkways, letting out a breath as she took in her surroundings. The fluttering of bugs overhead, the calls of birds that ranged from cheerful songs to vicious screaming, the soft tapping of paws against the grass, the clicking of hooves over the rocky areas…To Wicke, being able to stand amongst such things, accompanied by one of her own Pokémon, was like home. It was a reminder, to her, of why she'd joined Aether. It hadn't been for any of Lusamine's absurd ideals under Nihilego, it'd been for the Pokémon and for Alola's natural beauty.
Wicke wondered if she'd truly be able to forgive Lusamine upon the latter's return. She couldn't deny that their president had been a powerful trainer, and they needed powerful trainers, but to see such things happen to both Gladion and Lillie…Would anyone be able to?
No…they had to keep the past from interfering with their present goal, didn't they? Even then, to force Gladion to face her…Wicke could only imagine such a thing as being disastrous. If she had to handle any communication between the two…she was ready.
Wicke's Corsola scuttled over to her, letting out soft chirps as she moved in circles around Wicke's feet.
"Haha…I shouldn't worry, should I?" Wicke mused, "We'll all be fine."
Looking up and closing her eyes, Wicke took another deep breath, only to have somebody else's words interrupt her.
"Is something troubling you, Wicke?"
Opening her eyes once more and looking to the walkway ahead of her, Wicke was greeted by the sight of the doctor she'd been speaking to the past few nights, though it hardly resembled the Calla she'd seen. The woman in front of Wicke had foregone her uniform for the time, and instead stood in a loose, thin sweater and flowing skirt, her eyes rimmed by dark bags beneath a thick pair of cat-eye glasses. Beside the woman stood a Passimian, one with a prominent scar over its right shoulder, above a shaky arm. The Pokémon stood still, unlike Wicke's ever-wandering Corsola, and simply awaited the orders of its trainer as it followed her.
"Oh! Good morning, Calla," Wicke said, "I'm fine. I've just been…reflecting on everything."
Calla let out a chuckle, making her way to Wicke's side and leaning against the rails as well, turning to face Wicke.
"I know…It's certainly been something, hasn't it?" Calla replied, "I'd hoped things like this would end after the president left…I guess the world has a way of keeping the busiest people in it busy. Moments like this are a blessing, wouldn't you agree?"
Calla's nonchalant smile was quick to ease Wicke. Yes, the world did have its ways of doing things like this, but no matter what tragedies befell Aether, at the very least there were people like Calla who could keep their spirits up. Perhaps it'd just been a natural effect of Calla's job, however. Having to work so closely with their staff after brutal attacks, and now to work with Steven as he was, was something Wicke could hardly imagine the stress of.
It was only natural Calla would seem so relaxed.
"Yes, they are," Wicke replied, "Especially after last night."
"Is Mr. St-er, he giving you any trouble?" Calla inquired.
"No, it's far from that," Wicke answered, "I'm sure you've noticed it. He's looking more and more distant by the day. I've been able to get him to speak, at least, but it's never been for long."
Calla nodded, turning her gaze to the path ahead. At her feet, Calla's Passimian had finally decided to lie down, yawning as she did so and revealing her massive, sharp teeth.
Something that the Passimian would never use for a fight, Wicke noted. Those teeth were hardly built for such, after all. It was almost strange to think about such a thing-Normally, Pokémon would use whatever they could in a fight, but then there were cases like Passimian where they wouldn't use something that could potentially provide an advantage…
Or perhaps those teeth wouldn't do anything.
It was good, at least, that those mundane thoughts still occupied Wicke's head during such times.
"I've been keeping track of his state," Calla replied, "And he's been fine, if our conversations with the team that treated the president are anything to go by. Nihilego attacks tend to leave their victims without a sense of self for a while, if the information we have is anything to go by. It's strange, thinking about just how many odd illnesses in the past were actually this beast's doing…Don't you agree, Wicke?"
Wicke simply nodded, looking back to the environments around her.
Both she and Calla had their purpose in the foundation, purposes they'd found through their passion. Clearly, Calla had that same sort of passion towards her work in medicine.
Wicke always wondered why Calla had chosen Aether, of all places, though. Before the recent events in Aether Paradise, there had been nothing that would allow for much upward movement in the field of medicine.
Then again, everyone had their reason for coming to Aether. Wicke could still remember the moment vividly, the exact moment during her teenage years when she witnessed the news reports of the retirement of Aether's president, and mere months later the reports of a woman named Lusamine taking the helm while her husband stood behind her, looking happier than any person Wicke had seen in her life.
It was amazing to think that she'd come so far. From rescuing Magikarp from plastic bags to working as Aether's Branch Chief…
Wicke would never forget what had caused her to take interest in working with Aether.
"Hmm…I have a question, though," Calla said, her voice breaking a long silence, "Have you thought about what might have been able to unleash something like that upon the world? Is this a remnant of the incident with the president, do you wonder? Or is this, perhaps, something new?"
"As far as we knew," Wicke replied, "The Beasts that Interpol dealt with were the only ones to make it out of the wormhole. It's very much possible that the Nihilego that attacked him is nothing more than a remnant. I-If not…"
Calla shook her head, her gaze soon meeting Wicke's as she spoke once more.
"I'm curious as to who they've been asking about this incident. Don't you agree?" Calla asked, "I'd personally like to see somebody contact the Champion about all this…"
There were very few ways to get Wicke to show much outward anger. In all likelihood, Wicke would turn the other way and let herself breathe before confronting anyone. This statement from Calla, however, had been enough for Wicke to, in a brief moment, snap.
"Interpol is doing what they can." Wicke gritted her teeth, trying to hold back any more anger at the thought of accusing Moon of such a thing. These two agents that were working on the case, they'd done plenty during the last incident, hadn't they? "At this moment, I am in no position to get her involved in this case, and I cannot say whether or not the Champion will be contacted by Interpol. Is that clear enough, Calla? Regardless of any personal feelings regarding it, we're not to get anyone who hasn't already been contacted about Nihilego involved, or Aether will be jeopardized."
Calla fell silent, her eyes having widened slightly at the sight of Wicke's anger.
"You…" she gasped, fishing for words, "…You're quite something, aren't you? And you're right, this entire situation is hardly black and white-I can hardly imagine what sort of motive our Champion would have for this after dealing with the Beasts firsthand. At any rate, I'm afraid our conversation distracted me from why I came here. You're needed at the docks, Wicke."
"Of course," Wicke breathed, her expression barely changing, "Is something the matter there?"
"Somebody's here, and I think she's trying to speak with you-know-who," Calla explained, stepping towards the elevator she'd appeared from, "She picked a fight with Faba right when she arrived, and I have to say, I don't think I've ever seen such a commotion down there. I think the workers down there are taking bets, even."
"I-Immediately…? All right," Wicke replied, shaking her head, "Corsola? We have to head down now."
As if from nowhere, Wicke's Corsola once again appeared at her feet, moving in slow circles around her once more.
Of all the people…Wicke supposed that Faba was something of a worthy opponent. He'd been able to make it past the Elite Four before, and if that was the case, and this person was holding her own against him…
It was certainly going to be an…interesting day.
"Banette! We've got him! Use Shadow Ball!"
Wicke had hardly expected the scene she was greeted by when she entered the docks that morning.
Rather than some odd, shady trainer, like Calla had made it sound like, the person battling Faba looked like she was a veteran trainer, if the Key Stone embedded in her anklet was any indication. Facing her, Faba stood tall, though his teeth were gritted tightly as the Banette descended upon his Bruxish.
Wicke recognized the other trainer immediately. Key Stone, Ghost-types, those vibrant flowers in her hair...
This was Phoebe!
A dark orb formed in front of the Banette, and it unleashed an attack far quicker than anyone nearby could move. Faba could hardly call out for his Bruxish to get out of the way, and in an instant, the fish Pokémon had been unceremoniously felled and returned to its ball.
Regardless of how it had ended, however, there was an immediate uproar amongst the small crowd that had gathered to watch the battle. Faba looked on with irritation shining in his eyes as praise began to echo through the room-praise mainly directed towards Phoebe.
Phoebe hardly seemed to pay the crowd around them any mind, however. Her attention was focused on the man in front of her, the man who stood clutching a Poké Ball in a shaky hand, with every part of him occasionally twitching.
"Ahaha! That was incredible!" Phoebe's words came out airy, her laugh ringing through the room and bringing the crowd's attention back to her for a moment more. "You went up against me knowing you had a disadvantage, but your Pokémon fought long and hard to try and secure a win. I've learned a lot from battling you. Your bond with your Pokémon is deep, and I hope you grow closer to them as time goes on. I'm looking forward to seeing more of this 'new and improved Faba!'"
Just how genuine was that cheer, Wicke wondered? More importantly…Went up against Phoebe? Hadn't Calla just told her that…
…It was a simple mistake on Calla's end, Wicke was sure. She should have known Faba would have requested a battle. There hadn't been any malice on either end, even with Faba's briefly wounded pride. This had been nothing more than an unofficial battle, one meant for practice. The lack of Mega Evolution was a definite sign of that.
Faba's face relaxed, curving back into the smirk he always seemed to have on his face.
"It should be only natural," he began, stroking the edge of his impeccably-trimmed goatee, "That I, as Aether's last line of defense, am able to hold my own against you. You're certainly formidable. One day, quite soon, I hope for another match with you."
"I'm sure we'll be able to get another fight in before I'm back in Hoenn," Phoebe responded, "Until then, we'll be training to keep our skills sharp!"
There was only a nod from Faba as he turned away, disappearing into the quickly thinning crowd. It'd been a brief interaction, certainly, but in Wicke's eyes, it had given her plenty of an idea as to what Phoebe would be like.
In a time when somebody in Phoebe's position should have been grieving, Wicke hardly knew how to feel about such an attitude.
Phoebe watched as Faba walked off to tend to his injured Pokémon, then turned to Wicke, walking over slowly as her expression suddenly turned grim.
"Excuse me…You're Wicke, right? You should know why I-"
No. They couldn't discuss it out at the docks. Wicke's mind raced once more, before she remembered her interactions with Moon all that time ago. Yes, that old excuse would work.
"The lab," Wicke interrupted suddenly, glancing around the room, "I-I'm needed in the lab."
When she was certain nobody would notice, Wicke gestured for Phoebe to follow her into the elevator.
"I'm here to negotiate a visit," Phoebe explained, "I was hoping to speak to the president about this."
The two stood at the end of the same hallway that Wicke had explained everything to Moon at. The emptiness of it all…It felt like years worth of dust had gathered since her last visit to the area.
"That," Wicke answered, her expression turning downcast, "Isn't something we're allowed to authorize just yet. Interpol has the foundation on a particularly tight leash, I'm afraid. I understand they've been keeping in contact with you after..."
Wicke trailed off, leaving Phoebe to fill the sudden silence.
"I-It's fine. It's a much more touchy subject with the others. We're all taking a break from our League work, at least," Phoebe replied, "Especially when our new Champion is in no state to do her job. Anyway…during my own break, I've learned a few things that I think he should know."
Phoebe turned fidgety suddenly, her fingers seeming to twist around each other as she desperately tried to occupy her hands.
Things had certainly been…uncertain in Aether, more than ever that day. Wicke had barely noticed Gladion's return. Faba and Phoebe had been fighting in the early morning hours, creating an impressive amount of excitement. If Calla's words from earlier were any indication, tensions were going to run very high in the coming weeks, and those accusations would only continue to be thrown around.
The faint electrical buzzing that always sounded through the labs echoed through the air once again.
"Ah, yes, I've heard about May…Was she the only one qualified?" Wicke inquired, apprehension echoing in her voice.
Phoebe fell silent for a moment. All at once, she seemed to deflate, far more than she already had.
"…She was…pretty insistent on taking the place of Wallace," Phoebe lamented, "May held a lot of admiration for both them and Steven. None of us wanted her to take the position so soon, but Hoenn needed a Champion, and May wouldn't take no for an answer."
With every word Phoebe spoke, one thought echoed through Wicke's mind more and more: The end of this week can't come soon enough.
Four more days, and she'd finally be able to speak directly with those two field agents again.
"…You're quite conflicted about things, aren't you?" Phoebe inquired, "I can hardly blame you. Anyway, if I can't talk to him, I don't have anymore business here. I'll be on my way, then. Thank you for giving me some of your time!"
"Oh, yes! It's no problem at all," Wicke replied, her voice quickly descending into a whisper, "…If you want to talk about a deal regarding your request, you're welcome to return tonight. I'll contact the president then. I assume you're free at seven?"
"Y-Yes," Phoebe returned, "After what you said about Interpol, though…Are you sure about this?"
"I am," Wicke said, "You know about the Beast, and we're allowed to share information with you because of this, at least. Gladion hasn't heard your request, and he holds greater authority than I do. This is something he needs to know about."
"Thank you!" Phoebe's sunny demeanor from earlier returned, and her entire being seemed to perk up. "I'll be back then, on the dot, ready to meet him!"
Phoebe bowed quickly before beginning to turn away.
"See you then!"
"Of course. I'm going to need to escort you back to the docks, and you'll be free to go from there. Thank you for visiting us, Phoebe."
The walk to the elevator was silent.
Wicke had wanted it to be that way. If that smile on Phoebe's face was indeed fake, she was certainly doing a good job of faking it.
If not…
She was a Ghost-type expert, after all. Wicke had heard the rumors surrounding them, the rumors of otherworldly powers that their connections to such a type could provide…
Did Phoebe have proof of what had happened to Wallace?
No…It couldn't have been that.
As the two ascended to the docks, Wicke desperately tried to purge her mind of such a thought. Would it truly be Phoebe putting the final nail into Steven's coffin?
Moon dashed briskly out of the League, greeted once again by the icy slopes of Mt. Lanakila, which were growing ever colder with the ongoing winter. Behind her, a young Decidueye emerged, far more slowly, taking long strides. A day off! A day to herself! In the six months she'd spent as Champion, tasks had been piled onto her, whether it be paperwork, long meetings with the Elites, hours spent on her throne waiting for a new challenger to appear…Suddenly, she had none of that. The door guards wouldn't show up at the League that day except to lock the place down, and everyone would have a little time to themselves.
With all the chaos that was supposedly happening in Hoenn, Moon supposed that all the Leagues needed a break. She could hardly imagine such a thing happening to Alola's League, especially not so soon. Even with certain things-with Nebby's occasional visits and with her own status as a Faller-Moon couldn't think of the League falling to something like that. Murder, of all things. Severe illness and murder.
Skidding to a halt as she reached the turn towards the Pokémon Center, Moon took a moment to look out at the view. It was beautiful-it always was, though. It was always nice to look out at the mountain below, especially now that winter had taken hold and the snow had grown harsher. She'd never imagined seeing such a sight in Alola, of all places. Nothing but soft and snowy ridges below, fog covering any possible view of the islanf below…
She'd never imagined that the region would be what it was, but to Moon, all that time after the move, Alola had become her home.
Her Decidueye landed beside her silently, gazing out at the world alongside her.
It was their job as a team to protect Alola, wasn't it? Moon was Alola's Champion now, and that meant that she'd carry duties like that, didn't it?
Moon almost spoke when she looked to her Decidueye, but then noticed something in his beak-a note. The silhouette of a Crobat darted by overhead, and she was barely able to see its form.
"Huh…What do you think Kahili wants with us, anyway? She's not normally the kind of person to do this, don't you think?" Moon asked, taking the note from her Pokémon's mouth.
Decidueye only hooted in response, continuing to look out ahead.
With a delicate touch, Moon opened the note, surprised to find a card fluttering out from beneath the folded paper.
A card. This couldn't be another request from…!
The note's words were brief and simple: I've been asked not to speak a word of this to anyone else, and I can only assume that this will be dangerous. Take the card attached and destroy this note. Those are the orders you've been given.
Stay safe, Moon.
Moon was quick to tear the note apart and bury the bits into the snow, hoping that would be enough. Of course, if that didn't work…
No, there was no need to send out her Typhlosion for such a thing.
That would be enough.
Moon picked up the card and read over it, again and again.
Akala Motel.
She'd be off to Akala Motel once again.