0C: MISSING NUMBERS

The hall seems a lot bigger when you're the one standing at one end of the arena. You're aware of the audience, Gym trainers and curious travellers alike, gathered at the edges in the shadows beyond the shimmer of the protective psychic barrier; you feel the heat of the lights on your back, like a needle pinning you in place in full view of everyone.

It makes Artemis nervous. Being looked at is not something she enjoys. She tries to keep her eyes straight ahead, at Blaine taking up his position at the other end of the arena, but it's hard not to be aware of all those eyes, all those tiny judgements being passed.

"Good afternoon," says Blaine, leaning on his cane. He's ten, maybe twenty years older than Giovanni, with bold white moustaches and scarred eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Artemis does not think this will make things any easier: sighted or not, Blaine is a master. He could probably win this even without the service espeon at his feet, beaming what it sees into the back of his head.

"Hi," replies Artemis. Her voice sounds ugly with fear. Blaine smiles encouragingly beneath his moustache.

"No need to worry," he says. "Your first challenge, right?"

"That's right."

"And you chose me? An honour! The first time is special. I believe my first time was old Heidi, back when she ran Cerulean." He grins. "Well, then. Merle? If you would."

"Course," says Merle, stepping out from the audience up to the side of the arena. "Ahem. Challenger! State your name, if you will, and that of your partner."

The old formula, unchanged for hundreds of years. It makes Merle's voice rich with history. Artemis clenches her fist tight around Brauron's ball to disguise the way her hands are shaking.

"A-Artemis Apanchomene," she says, wincing at the tremble in her voice. "And Brauron."

"Leader! Your name, if you will, and that of your partner."

"Blaine Chatham," replies Blaine, crisp and confident. "Acknowledged Leader of the Gym of Cinnabar. My partner this day is Mordred."

Merle bows his head for a moment.

"Artemis Apanchomene and her partner, Brauron, claim their right to challenge you to a contest of arms, by the ancient law of this land," he continues. "Do you accept this challenge, Leader, as the covenant requires?"

"Aye," says Blaine. "I do."

"Then by decree of King and League, this contest may begin," says Merle. "May fortune favour the worthy!"

And then that's it: all the ritual nonsense out of the way, and the real business begun. Artemis' arm moves up and throws the ball before she even realises it, and with a dramatic pulse of light Brauron materialises on the tiles, crouched and ready to move. Across from her, Blaine releases another lizardlike pokémon, bipedal and flame-tailed: a charmeleon, twice Brauron's size and tough to match. Mordred, Artemis assumes. He drops briefly to all fours and snarls out a challenge, tail lashing, before raising himself back onto his haunches, ready to spring.

"Mordred takes the field!" cries Merle. "And, opposing, Brauron takes the field!"

A moment of stillness. Brauron and Mordred face each other, unmoving. The warmth in the air seems to bleed away and leave Artemis standing somewhere cool and dim and quiet.

Blaine smiles.

"Chuff," he says, and Mordred coughs out a striking cloud of acrid black smoke that rolls heavily across the floor and engulfs Brauron entirely. Artemis nearly panics, but it's fine, it's fine, Brauron can see through smoke better than she can so if she just trusts her―

"M-claw!" barks Blaine, and as Mordred lunges forward into the smokescreen, foreclaws raised and flaring with eerie light, Artemis' mouth sidesteps her brain and calls out:

"Two o'clock, right now!"

A flicker of movement within the smoke; Mordred slashes and cuts only air, Brauron slithering out below the sweep of his arm. And now even if you can't see her she's at his side so make use of it, Artie, right now:

"Cloud! Focused!"

Up pops a slim head from the smoke, and as Mordred whirls to face her Brauron spits a thin trickle of green mist directly at the spot he moves his head into. With a sound like a car backfiring, the charmeleon sneezes something black and noisome and scratches at its nose, reeling. There's the opening. Artemis cries out go and without even asking Brauron knows what's needed: she pounces straight onto the larger pokémon's chest and knocks him down.

"Ball!" snaps Artemis, but Mordred is well trained and he's already recovered, twisting sharply and throwing Brauron off back into the smoke; her fireball goes wide and dissipates harmlessly on the arena's barrier.

"Press it now, son!" says Blaine. "M-claw!"

Again Mordred advances, claws gleaming, and Artemis can't see Brauron at all and maybe she hasn't even got up yet and maybe she's really hurt down there under the smoke and now Mordred's right there and she still hasn't said anything―

Mordred swings, and seems to overreach, staggering forward like a drunk who's missed a punch; he croaks uncertainly, shakes his head and tries again, but Artemis' lungs seem to be working again now and she can shout:

"One o'clock and ball!"

Brauron scoots backwards out of the cloud onto the clearer tiles near Blaine and spits flame as she goes, green light splashing on Mordred's arm and knocking it back with a force that nearly unbalances him. But he's clinging on, despite the poison coursing through his veins, and at Blaine's command he drops to all fours and charges like a bear, growling ferociously, flames trailing from the corners of his mouth. In front of him, Brauron hesitates, hisses, glances up at Artemis for direction―

―and before either of them can react Mordred makes contact, bowling her over and sending her sliding across the arena towards Blaine. She croaks and scrabbles on the tiles to right herself, springing back with an energy that reassures Artemis she's startled rather than hurt, and then as Mordred sweeps in with claws raised once more Artemis finds her voice and shouts:

"Three o'clock and cloud!"

Brauron coils and leaps like a frog, spraying poison mist behind her, and Mordred, already woozy, fails to slow in time to avoid ploughing straight into it; he does manage to turn, and nicks her tail with one claw, but his legs don't seem to want to cooperate and they slither out from underneath him in opposite directions, dropping him unceremoniously on the floor. He tries to get up, hissing in frustration, but Blaine shakes his head and raises his ball.

"Enough. Mordred!"

A flash of light, and the charmeleon is gone. Artemis stares, blinking, and then all at once her tunnel vision fades and she is aware of the cheer coming from the audience. Mostly Cass, by the sound of it, but she's doing a pretty good job filling in for everyone else, too.

"Mordred quits the field!" calls out Merle from the sidelines. "Leader, you may call upon one other partner today!"

"Nice work, Ms Apanchomene," says Blaine, grinning. "I wondered how you'd deal with something too strong to take on directly. But I wonder how much venom little Brauron has left?"

Artemis smiles back, though it is strained. She isn't sure how she feels right now. Stressed, definitely. Afraid. But also alive, for some reason. Because – wait, hang on, is she winning?

Oh god, she thinks, her brain catching up with everything that just happened. She actually is.

"Uh," she says, trying to figure out words and not doing a good job of it. "O … okay?"

"Nearly there now," says Blaine. "Let's see – Galeron next, I think." He takes another ball from his pocket and looks at Merle expectantly.

"Challenger, call Brauron to her position," he says. Artemis beckons, and Brauron scampers back through the dissipating smokescreen to her side of the arena. "Thank you. Now – Galeron takes the field!"

Galeron turns out to be a growlithe, a lithe little bundle of tiger-striped fur that yaps and barks and barely even waits to touch the ground before he runs for Brauron, spitting flames. Artemis has her sidestep his charge and fire back, and by some freak accident her green fireball hits his orange one and the two explode with an intense light that forces her to look away. When she opens her eyes, after-images flashing across her vision, Galeron has closed the distance and is about to close his jaws on Brauron's tail. Artemis leans forward, crying out something incoherent – and bangs her head on the barrier, just as Galeron bites down.

Brauron hisses violently and kicks, hindclaws scraping across his face, but the little growlithe is as persistent as a terrier and won't let go. Artemis tries to breathe, tells herself Brauron's okay, but all she can see is those teeth in her tail, and she can't breathe, can't even think past that image, swelling and swelling until there is nothing left in her mind except sharp white teeth with blood welling up all around them―

"Light your tail!" she shrieks suddenly, not sure where the idea came from or even if Brauron will understand, and there is a short pause while Galeron tugs at Brauron and tries to shake her out of kicking and then, suddenly, light flares in his mouth and he spits her out, coughing violently. The growlithe retreats, panting and licking his scorched teeth, and Brauron pulls herself back onto her feet, the glow of her tail markings fading as the flame dies.

"Nicely done," observes Blaine. "Keep calm now, Ms Apanchomene! Have faith in your partner!"

He's right, Artie. Use this break, while Galeron's still confused and Brauron's recovering, and think. Brauron's still faster, and she's probably almost out of poison but she's still got claws. And Galeron won't want to go for her tail again after that, so …

"Cloud!" she cries. "Everything you've got!"

Brauron croaks, rears, and spits an unusually dark cloud that moves with uncanny speed across the arena towards its target, crashing into his side with far more than natural force. Galeron stumbles and falls, yelping in dismay, and though he gets back up again he does not move as quickly as before. Brauron's slowing too now, the markings on her back dull and lustreless, but she's got this, she does, and when Artemis calls out claw she scuttles across to Galeron and lashes out with all the usual determination.

"Orb!" calls Blaine, and Galeron tries but as he draws in his breath Brauron's claws connect, and, winded, he coughs out a half-formed ember that bounces onto the floor and fizzles out harmlessly. Without waiting for a further command, he swipes at her with one paw, and misses completely even before Artemis gives the order for Brauron to dodge. "Orb!" repeats Blaine, but Galeron seems to have other things on his mind than attacking. He withdraws, trying to put distance between himself and Brauron's nails, and Blaine nods and sighs. "Very well. Back now!"

A pulse of light, and Brauron's claws swish through thin air.

Artemis stares. Has she just …?

"Galeron quits the field!" cries Merle. "The battle is decided. Victory goes to the challengers, Artemis Apanchomene and Brauron!"

She has. She actually has.

"Good work!" says Blaine, striding forward as the barriers go down, his espeon backing off to let him pass. "You coped admirably. I thought you might lose your way when I pressed harder there, but you brought it back with that tail trick. And a perfectly executed smog to round things off, as well! Devilishly difficult to give it the kind of kick yhou managed there. Marvellous. Excellently done." He takes her hand and shakes it. Artemis shakes back automatically, slightly numb. It was … oh, of course. It was a test, wasn't it? That's what a Gym Leader is meant to do. They gauge your weaknesses and push you to see if you can overcome them. And Blaine is a very, very good Gym Leader. "And of course, you are to be commended as well," he continues, turning with startling accuracy to where Brauron is crouched, cooling down from the heat of the battle. "You're a regular little firebrand, aren't you? Boldly done, boldly done indeed."

Brauron hisses regally, as if to say well of course we won, and Blaine chuckles.

"Excellent," he says. "Excellent, excellent, excellent. Very well. One last bit of ceremony then, eh? Merle, the badges."

"Right here," replies Merle, box in hand. "Okay. By the law of this land, Leader, these challengers have bested you. Give them their deserts, as the covenant requires."

"Gladly," says Blaine warmly, taking an enamel pin from the proffered box. "Artemis Apanchomene, Brauron, you have been tried by arms in the eyes of King and League, and found worthy. Bear your mark of honour with pride."

He holds out the badge, and Artemis, still not quite able to believe that this is happening, takes it. The red enamel winks up at her in the glare of the spotlights. This is it, she realises. This is actually the Volcano Badge, and it's actually hers, and she … she actually did it.

"Thank you," she says slowly. "I … thank you."

"Not at all!" cries Blaine, thumping the floor with his walking stick. "Thank you for a fiery battle, Ms Apanchomene. And―"

"Blaine! Blaine, we've got trouble!"

Artemis turns, and sees someone making his way past the audience members (oh god, were there really that many people watching?) up towards the arena. Is that one of the Gym trainers? He looks vaguely familiar.

"What? What is it?" Blaine does not quite turn to face him. "Something wrong, Avery?"

"Yes." Avery comes to a halt, breathing hard. "There's been a breakout at the Fuji Labs."

The warmth of Artemis' victory dissipates in an instant, as if a bucket of cold water had just been thrown unceremoniously over her head. The Fuji Labs. The smell of burning. The skeleton. It couldn't be … it could. It really, really could.

"Breakout?" Blaine is suddenly all business, his good humour gone without a trace. "Something bad, I take it?"

"Yeah, I don't think it's the amaura," replies Avery. "They were pretty unclear on the phone – a kabutops, maybe? And something else, not sure what. But they're tearing up the north side of town, whatever they are. I looked outside and I can see fires."

Kabutops. So not a reanimated aerodactyl skeleton, then. Artemis breathes out. Thank god. She really, really didn't want to be right about that. This kabutops and its companion are bad news, clearly, but not as bad as breach.

"Right. We'd better get― ah yes, of course. Forgive me, Ms Apanchomene, I'm going to have to cut this short. If you'd like, come back tomorrow and I can give you more detailed feedback."

"Oh, it's fine," says Artemis hurriedly. "This seems, uh, this seems important. So. You know."

"Thank you for your understanding." Blaine nods and shakes her hand once more. "I'll leave you in Merle's hands. Avery, get Zac and have him prep Rico for flight immediately …"

He walks off, talking animatedly, and his espeon, after locking eyes unsettlingly with Artemis for a moment, paces along after him. There is a second or two during which nobody knows what to do, and then Merle claps his hands together briskly.

"Well, while Blaine's off dealing with that," he says, "let me congratulate you on behalf of the Gym, Artemis, Brauron."

"Thanks," she replies, stooping to collect Brauron from the ground. She's still hot, but not enough to burn. She's bleeding where she was bitten, too, although not much, and she doesn't seem to care.. The doctor back in Pallet was right. Pokémon really are tough. "I … I think I should go back to the Centre now."

"Sounds like a plan," agrees Merle. "Well, come on back whenever, you hear? Always happy to teach what we can."

Artemis steps out of the spotlights and back into the dimness of the rest of the hall. Most of the audience are leaving, probably heading outside to see what's going on down in the town, but Cass is right there, grinning from ear to ear like she was the one who just won.

"That was great!" she cries, as Artemis approaches, cradling Brauron. "You two were so good! Like I don't even know how you could see, with all that smoke, and then when you like lit Brauron's tail in the dude's mouth, man, that was incredible." Ringo squawks and beats his wings, flicking her hair with his feathers. "Yeah, see, Ringo agrees," says Cass. "That was awesome."

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and even through her worry about what is happening down at the Fuji Labs Artemis finds herself smiling back at her.

"I dunno," she says. "I mostly just dodged and waited for the poison to work."

"Hey, you won," replies Cass. "And on your first go! Who even does that?"

"A lot of people, probably."

"Not that many." Cass shakes her head. "Okay, first of all let's like take Brauron to the Centre, then we gotta do something to celebrate. Like, uh, I dunno, but we'll think of something."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," replies Artemis. "C'mon, then. Let's go."

In her arms, too tired for once to cling onto her, Brauron looks up at her and croaks quietly, exhausted but triumphant. Artemis smiles down at her, so proud of her that it hurts, so amazed that it worked, above all so relieved that she made it through okay, and then she follows Cass out through the entrance hall into the bright light of a Cinnabar afternoon.

She has never really won anything before. If this is what it's like, she thinks, she could definitely get used to it.

On their way down from the Gym, Artemis and Cass have plenty of opportunity to confirm Avery's story for themselves: there really are fires. They don't look big, but there is definitely smoke rising from somewhere near where the Fuji Labs are.

"I hope everybody's okay down there," says Cass, staring. "What do you think got out?"

"Dunno," replies Artemis, pushing hard at the rising guilt. It's not her. She didn't do this. She might have caused the scyther, if that really was breach, but this is just rogue dinosaurs.

"Everything in the zoo seemed like tame," says Cass. "Must be something else."

"Yeah." Artemis pauses, tries to think of some way to lighten the mood. "You think they have a tyrantrum in there?"

"Man, I … was gonna say hope so, but considering things are breaking out right now? No, no I definitely don't hope so." Cass shakes her head. "Probably not, I guess. The whole town would probably already be destroyed if there was."

"Optimistic of you."

"You know me. I'm just a big ol' ray of sunshine."

Artemis laughs then, despite herself.

"Yeah," she says. "You really are."

"Think I'll take that as a compliment," says Cass. "Hey, Ringo, don't fly too far ahead, okay? Remember that big pidgeot lives round here somewhere."

Just then, a huge shadow passes overhead with a roar of displaced air, and Artemis' heart leaps half out of her chest; she looks up and sees the vast batwinged silhouette of a dragon, the tip of its tail too bright to focus on, and as her pulse settles she realises it's Blaine and company, heading down to the town on a charizard. In her arms, Brauron stirs and hisses, hiding her head in Artemis' hand. Apparently she knows the shadow of a predator when she sees it.

"Whoa," breathes Cass, open-mouthed, as Ringo takes off after it, flapping wildly and shrieking his head off. "You know what? I changed my mind. Tyrantrum or not, I think he's got it covered."

"They're rock-types, though," says Artemis, as the dragon soars out ahead of them, its riders standing out like toys against the sky. "And charizard's fire/flying."

"Yeah, but it's Blaine," argues Cass. "And I don't think tyrantrum are like known for their grasp of strategy."

As she speaks, Ringo tumbles out of the air and lands awkwardly in a tree, then immediately takes off again, apparently convinced that if he tries hard enough he can catch and defeat the charizard by himself.

Artemis nods.

"Okay, you have a point there. Uh, is Ringo coming back?"

"Huh? Oh. Ringo, quit chasing the charizard! It's got work to do and you're not gonna catch it." He slows, and with obvious reluctance wheels around to fly back. "C'mere, buster," calls Cass, holding out her hand. "You've caused enough trouble for one day."

He lands with his usual lack of elegance, adding fresh scratches to the collection Cass is growing on her wrist. Artemis sometimes wonders how she can stand it, although in a sense she understands; she herself is used to getting slightly burned by Brauron.

"He's getting better at flying, huh," she says. "Remember in Viridian he only ever flew like ten feet at a time?"

"Yeah," agrees Cass. "Guess I must be doing something right."

Artemis hears a noise behind her, and looks back.

"Car!"

There isn't really a pavement up here. She and Cass move to the side of the road, and a few seconds later a big white van with the League insignia on the side tears past at speed, down towards the town.

"Look at that," says Cass. "Backup and everything. I bet by the time we get down there it's all gonna be over."

They keep walking. After about fifteen minutes, they leave the road for the trail, and a few minutes after that, coming around a bend and out of the other side of an olive grove, they see that the smoke has gone.

"What'd I tell you?" Cass spreads her arms, as if it were her who made it disappear. "Blaine's got it covered."

"Maybe it wasn't a tyrantrum."

Cass makes a face.

"That is totally beside the point," she says. "Come on, we can check what it was when we get back."

Back at the Centre, Artemis takes the now-sleeping Brauron to the clinic and, after some persuasion from the doctors that she really will be okay on her own, leaves her there to be treated. Fighting a vague sense of guilt at abandoning her, she makes her way to the lounge and finds Cass and a group of kids watching the news on TV as it unfolds.

"… some unidentified move, setting the vehicle ablaze," the newscaster is saying, over footage of firefighters directing a blastoise to douse a burning car. No sign of any dinosaurs, but Artemis supposes they haven't had a chance to get any footage of the rampage as it happened yet. Back to the studio, and the newscaster looking grave behind her desk. "For those of you just joining us, this is the news that two unknown creatures broke loose from the Fuji Resequencing Laboratories, just minutes ago," she says. "Eyewitness descriptions are confused but appear to agree that one is some form of kabutops. The creatures broke through the front wall and proceeded directly down Mercer Street via Haverdell Road, destroying several parked vehicles and walls in their way, before being engaged and captured by a force from Cinnabar Gym, working in conjunction with the police. No casualties have been reported. We'll bring you more as it happens."

Cut back to the footage of the scene: camera panning over scattered bricks and smashed cars, cops standing around, talking urgently and setting up police tape. It looks bad, but Artemis clings to what the presenter said. No casualties. Maybe the kabutops just wanted to break things.

"They really tore the place up, huh," says Cass, noticing her standing there. "Like that's a hole in the road there. How mad do you have to be to take a swing at the damn ground?"

"I guess pretty mad," says Artemis. The newscaster is starting to repeat herself, evidently out of facts. "I'm glad nobody got hurt."

"Yeah." Cass gets up, and Ringo flies to her shoulder from the back of the sofa. "But like, unexpected roadworks aside, Artemis, I think I said something about a celebration."

"Huh?" Right, the Gym battle. The Gym battle that happened twenty minutes ago and which, what with everything else, Artemis had somehow just managed to forget. It comes back now, that rush and that thrill, and she finds herself smiling a little, despite the devastated street onscreen. "Oh yeah, you did."

"Damn right I did! So come on, let's go, I'll buy you ice cream."

"You don't have to―"

"Oh, come on," says Cass, grabbing her arm and steering her out of the room. "You can buy me some when I win my first badge, how about that?"

"Uh," says Artemis, wondering if Cass noticed her flinching at the sudden physical contact. "Uh, um, okay, I …"

Her voice rises. She tries very hard not to yank her arm out of Cass' hand and somehow succeeds.

"Hey, whoa, what's up?" asks Cass, staring. "You look like―"

"Please let go of me," says Artemis, unable to stop herself. Her voice comes out thin and small and strained. Cass does as she asks, and takes a step back, looking lost.

"I – I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't … are you okay?"

"Yes," replies Artemis. "I mean no. I mean – I'm fine." She closes her eyes, breathes in and out. "Sorry," she says. "I'm … I get nervous."

It is the most inadequate way of putting it she's ever come up with. There is a silence, and then after a moment she opens her eyes to see Cass standing there, eyes full of concern.

"Yeah," she says slowly. "I … did kinda notice a couple things."

Is it time to have The Conversation? Artemis wants to believe she could tell Cass, that she would see her exactly the same afterwards as she does now, but honestly she has only ever met one person who did that, and even she doesn't get it right all the time, sometimes looks at Artemis not as a friend but as a crazy person. It hurts, in some ways as much as the girl thing hurts. And Artemis doesn't want to end up making Cass look at her like that too.

But she can't just lie. Not if they're going to travel together. Can she?

God, she doesn't know. Why do things have to be so complicated?

"Anxiety," she says in the end, which is at least only a lie by omission. "Kinda quite bad, actually. You've … probably seen me taking my meds."

Cass nods.

"Yeah," she says. "I have."

Pause. Someone comes in through the doors and walks up to reception, begins to talk to the woman on duty. The newscaster repeats her few facts in the next room.

"You still wanna get ice cream?" asks Cass, eventually, and Artemis half laughs. Not a happy laugh – verging on hysterical, honestly – but a laugh.

"Yeah," she says. "Okay."

There aren't a lot of positives to this situation, but at least this time Emilia didn't have to take the boat.

More or less as soon as she stepped off the League togekiss, she and Nadia found themselves fighting a losing battle. Two goddamn skeletons, broad daylight, several dozen witnesses, most of them with phones and cameras. It's on YouTube, it's on Facebook, and as soon as someone emails the video to KNBC it's going to be on the national news, too. This isn't something she can contain – and even if she could, she isn't sure she would want to; these things smashed their way down three streets before the cops and Blaine's team managed to stop them, and it was damn lucky that there weren't any casualties. People have a right to that kind of information, whatever the League says. Emilia is always glad when something like this happens in a way that means it can't be completely suppressed, although she is self-aware enough about it to ask herself dryly if she's done salving her conscience.

Fortunately, the Labs themselves are in lockdown after the incident; there are journalists sniffing around – including Mark Trelawney, although how he managed to get out here so quickly Emilia isn't sure – but none will get through the cordon of police and pokémon. That buys her time to make her rounds, briefing key figures on what and what not to say, Nadia gauging how likely people are to play ball. The mayor's office and the Gym trainers are okay; at the police station, the cops remember her from the other night, and she flags them as potential risks. Emilia makes a mental note to speak with Blaine later. Hopefully they'll listen to him.

The official line will be possession. Ghost-types do this kind of thing, sometimes – get themselves inside objects and take them for a ride. They don't normally set fire to anything while they do it, but it does happen; that was the crux of that Cryptstalker Corvax nonsense, after all. There are going to be questions directed at the Fuji Labs themselves, of course, but they've got their own lawyers, all of whom will doubtless be contacting Emilia over the next couple of days, and honestly she sees no reason not to leave them to look after themselves. It's not like they know what this really is, after all.

Emilia doesn't even know herself yet, but she's got a hunch, of course, and at this point she's on her way back up to the Gym to make sure. After Blaine and his team put an end to their rampage, the two creatures were taken up there to await the pickup crew and transferral to a secure facility. Emilia hopes they don't break out. Given that it's literally a fortress, she thinks they probably won't, but then again, she just saw the building they went through after leaving the Labs, and that wasn't a pretty sight. Whatever they are, these things are a force to be reckoned with.

In the car with her are a couple of Blaine's trainers, Avery and Zac. She finds herself thinking of them as kids, but of course they're in their early twenties. Emilia is just getting – not old, exactly, she has a while to go before she gets there, but older. It's probably fine. Older is wiser. Some of the time, anyway. Or it means that you've seen a few more things, at least.

The two trainers look tired, and very pale underneath their Cinnabar tan. Emilia makes polite conversation, tries to nudge their spirits upwards a little with some soothingly dull professionalism, and by the time Zac stops the car outside the Gym both he and Avery seem to be over the worst of it. Emilia suspects that what they've seen today will come back to them, later tonight when there are no distractions, but this is as much as she can do for them right now. Zac goes to take the car around to the garage, and Avery leads her inside through the impressive entryway and down some less impressive corridors to what used to be the castle's dungeons.

"We've got them down here for now," he says, as they make their way down a narrow, twisting stairway. "Hoping they won't, uh, you know. Get out."

"That seems very sensible," she replies, mostly because she feels he expects her to say something. "Lead on, Avery."

He does, and soon they come to a low, dark corridor, with heavy metal doors set into the walls. It's warm down here, and Emilia wonders how deep into the volcano they really are.

"Just, uh, along here," says Avery, clicking on a torch. "Sorry about this, we don't come down here much and I guess nobody noticed the lights weren't working till today."

"It's all right."

Something thumps and scrapes, like stone dragging against stone. Emilia looks at Avery.

"That's them?"

"That's them," he confirms. "Uh, it's this door."

Emilia can tell. There's a faint purple light shining around its edges, and an espeon sitting calmly outside, eyes closed.

"Barrier?" she asks. "We can look in there?"

"Yeah. Just, um, maybe be careful?"

Emilia smiles reassuringly.

"Of course."

The door is heavy and the hinges thick with rust. Between the two of them, they manage to haul it open, and Emilia peers through the slight distortion of the psychic barrier beyond to see the skeletons.

Two of them. One aerodactyl, all fingers and teeth, and one kabutops, slabs of shell grinding against one another as it moves. The aerodactyl is currently crouched and immobile, while the kabutops paces and slashes at the air.

Emilia stares. She'd seen the video, of course, but it's another thing to actually see them. It's not even like these are bones; they're fossils, without any relation to the living creature but their shape, and yet there they are, stalking around like they haven't spent the last few million years buried in the earth's crust.

As she watches the kabutops suddenly locks up, freezing into position, and the aerodactyl begins to move instead, stumping around on all fours like some huge demonic bat.

"You see that?" asks Avery. "They just – it's like only one of them can move at a time. There's that little shimmer, and― yeah, like that!"

The aerodactyl pauses mid-step, and now Emilia is watching she notices it: a little ripple in its substance, like the bands of static on a rewinding VHS tape. And a matching ripple in the kabutops, and then it starts to move again.

"They can't see us?" she asks.

"I don't think so," says Avery. "They don't have eyes. They weren't really attacking people, thank god, just … like if they felt something in their way, they broke it."

The kabutops hits the far wall face-first and recoils, twitching like a broken puppet, then lashes out with both blades. Emilia expects it to bounce, but the fossilised claws just go straight through with a sound like a mine collapsing, gouging huge chips of stone that shatter on the floor. She has to suppress the urge to take a step back: Avery could really use someone who seems confident right now, and anyway she is mostly sure that it can't cut through the barrier.

STATIC, says Nadia, sending her a mental reminder of the way Oak and his pokémon were impervious to psychic attack, and Emilia curses under her breath. Right. Of course. Well, she's committed now; if it sees her she'll just have to slam the door and hope it holds.

"It's impressive, isn't it?" she remarks.

"One word for it," replies Avery.

The kabutops seems to have got one claw stuck in the wall. It tries to pull it free, then gives up halfway through and freezes again. This time, however, the aerodactyl doesn't move, and Emilia frowns.

"What's that?"

"We don't know," says Avery nervously. "Sometimes they both just … stop. That's how we got them in the van, actually."

Emilia's scowl deepens. Something about this isn't right. But it isn't immediately obvious what, and honestly this is not a field she knows all that much about, so perhaps it's best if she just does what she came here to do, files a report and leaves this for someone more qualified to deal with.

"Okay, Nadia," she says, lifting her from her shoulder. "You know what to do."

Not a trace this time: Emilia doesn't need to see the past, or the future. She closes her eyes and looks into the darkness, expecting to see the mangled shapes and pixellated static that marks out breach – but both the kabutops and the aerodactyl are curiously absent.

Eyes open. There they are, still and silent. They haven't just run off or dematerialised. Eyes closed – and nothing.

"Nadia," she says. "What am I looking at here?"

STONES, replies Nadia. TRY UP.

"Okay …"

Emilia moves her head, and then she sees it: a fat, flickering block of interference shaped something like a backwards L, hovering by what must be the ceiling of the cell. As soon as she sees it, the thing seems to notice; it writhes and pulses, body spiking out in uncanny jags and bars, and dives straight downwards. Emilia opens her eyes quickly and jumps back from the doorway, Nadia fluttering away in alarm―

Nothing.

"What is it?" Avery starts to ask, but Emilia holds up a hand to stop him, steps cautiously back towards the door.

Nadia, she thinks, and a second later the little natu flaps somewhat sheepishly back onto her wrist. Okay. Ready?

… YES.

Every fearful instinct in her body tells her not to, but she shuts her eyes again – and there it is, the wriggling L thing, phasing in and out of existence on the floor. Again, it seems to take exception to being looked at; it shoots straight back up to the ceiling, and when Emilia follows it once more it disappears altogether.

She opens her eyes, and sees the aerodactyl stomping around, snapping its jaws and occasionally smashing its skull into the wall.

Nadia, she thinks, trying to work out what it is she's just seen without alerting Avery to the fact that she's as confused as he is. Any ideas?

NO.

"All right," she sighs. "I thought so." She returns Nadia to her shoulder, glances at Avery. "Would you help me shut this door? Thanks."

It thumps back into place curiously gently, the noise muffled by the psychic barrier, and they start to make their way back up the staircase.

"So is it bad?" asks Avery, hesitantly.

"Nothing we haven't seen before," lies Emilia reassuringly. "The team will be here soon. In fact, that's probably the helicopter now."

The sound of rotors filters faintly down through the rock. Emilia leaves Avery in the lobby and steps outside to see the helicopter lowering itself down into the car park. Moments later, the noise dies as it winds down, and a group of people wearing body armour and carrying strange machines climb out.

LOOK, says Nadia suddenly, and replays one of Emilia's memories for her: Giovanni and his crew in the Viridian North police station, the men and women carrying their testing equipment.

"These are the official League people, Nadia," says Emilia, scanning their faces as they approach and not recognising any. "I don't think …"

LOOK, repeats Nadia, and again the memory flashes before her: Giovanni meeting her, asking a woman named Abby to go on ahead and take charge. The image pauses unnaturally, the woman's face expanding until Emilia can think of nothing else – and then it fades, and Emilia blinks as she stumbles back into the present moment.

"What do you …?"

She doesn't finish. She doesn't have to. Right there, directing the other members of the crisis team as they unload the equipment, is that same woman.

The sunlight goes cold for an instant, and Emilia starts to make the connections. Who would be absent from the records of Lorelei's employees? Someone who doesn't officially work for her, of course, someone who is, technically, not directly part of any of the four League departments.

"Someone on the damn crisis team," murmurs Emilia. "So she gets the reports of every breach event, she has access to all the tech at the secure facility, she … goddamn it, of course." Her bearing shifts, grows straighter and more businesslike. "Good work, Nadia," she says quietly, watching the crisis team approach, the first of them already calling out to her. "Now let's see what we can find."

She moves forward with a serious face to intercept the team as they approach.

"Nadia, get ready," she murmurs, and then calls out: "Excuse me. Are you in charge?"

Abby looks at her. Neither Emilia nor Nadia detect any hint of recognition in her eye.

"Yes," she replies. "Who's asking?"

"Emilia Santangelo. Legal―"

"Lorelei's terrier," says Abby, nodding. "Yeah, I've heard of you."

"I see my reputation precedes me," says Emilia, shaking her hand. "And you are?"

"Abigail Grahame," she answers. "Special Containment. What can I do for you?"

FURRET MAN, crows Nadia, exultant, and beneath her carefully blank face Emilia shouts out with her.

"I have a report to deliver," she says, and begins to reel off the relevant information. Breach, one entity, two bodies; not aggressive, just breaks whatever is in its path; no real range to speak of, possible use of moves but exact type unknown; no apparent senses other than touch. In the dungeons. Here, let me show you the way …

She takes Abigail and her team inside, points out the way down to the dungeons while wide-eyed Gym staff look nervously at their guns and equipment, and as soon as they are all through the door to the staircase she turns away, smiling grimly.

Giovanni is still going to take some work to pin down; he might be being questioned, but he's a slippery bastard, and he won't implicate himself if he can help it. But now Emilia knows who A. Grahame is, and where she works, and now she can pull up her record and hand it over to the internal review team for processing. And then she'll find out whether Abigail Grahame is as good at slithering out of things as her boss. Because if she isn't – and there is every chance that this is the case – then that might just be their way in.

CRIMES, says Nadia.

"Yes," agrees Emilia. "Make a note for when I get back. We've got a few more favours to call in."

There is a gelato shop positioned near the Pokémon Centre for pretty much this exact eventuality. It's crowded and noisy, full of an explosive mixture of tourists, kid trainers and assorted pokémon; Cass and Artemis take one look at it and decide to get theirs to go.

"I always get like this," says Cass, looking glumly from her cone to Artemis'. "I think I know what I want and then whoever's with me gets theirs and I'm like, I wish I'd got that."

Artemis smiles, and mostly means it, but says nothing. They walk for a little while, Cass occasionally pausing to push Ringo's beak away from her ice cream, and then stop when they reach the square to sit by the fountain. On the corner is the café Artemis ate in with Emilia yesterday. It feels like much longer ago, somehow.

All around them, the town moves: holidaymakers and locals, kids, seagulls, pidgey. A small tortoiseshell cat and an equally small tabby meowth sunning themselves on a step.

"You'd never guess there were dinosaurs loose on the other side of town, huh," remarks Cass.

"Nope," replies Artemis.

Pause. The paving-stones are dazzling in the sunlight, even through Artemis' sunglasses. She's heard it's going to be one of the hottest summers on record. Already she's more tanned than she's ever been in her life; a couple more months of hiking in this weather, and she might even look vaguely like her mother's daughter.

"I … haven't been honest with you," says Cass, looking carefully off at a trio of seagulls fighting over a stray chip. "I'm really sorry."

Artemis doesn't look at her, either.

"Yeah?" she asks, crunching her cone.

"Yeah."

The gulls flap and mewl. A pidgey, swaggering over to claim the chip for itself with the bravado of a pokémon among animals. Immediately, the gulls stop their bickering and unite briefly to flap and shriek at it until it flies off, abashed, and they can go back to arguing.

"I've kinda wanted to say for a while now," says Cass. "'Cause, well, it doesn't feel right, you know? I mean, I wasn't a hundred per cent convinced I was okay with this anyway, and like … you're like a nice person, right, and I'm really not sure I'm doing the right thing."

Artemis stays silent. Something inside her is starting to scream.

"Sorry," says Cass. "I'm avoiding the point, I know." She takes a deep breath, and turns to face her. "You know I get those calls from my aunt?"

Artemis nods. She'd say yes, but her throat seems to have seized up.

"Well, she's … not really checking up on me. Truth is, I'm calling her. Because she asked me to. Back when she told me you were going to be walking through Viridian Forest and could I join up with you and tell her if anything weird happened."

Cass says the last sentence all in one go, far too fast. Her ice cream is trickling down her hand, unnoticed.

The seagulls keep on fighting. They don't notice when a fourth gull stalks up and takes the chip away while their backs are turned.

Artemis breathes out, slow and careful.

"Thank you for telling me," she says.

Cass hesitates before answering.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Even Ringo is quiet now, sensing the mood. Artemis wishes she had Brauron here with her to hold.

"What happened?" she asks.

"I dunno, really. My aunt, she works with some League team, I think. Like I never really paid attention. But when I was in Pewter she called me up and said there was some special project going on, that she was tracking some outbreak of weird phenomena, and that like there was this trainer she thought was connected somehow. And I told her that sounded crazy, but like she swore and she never swears, so I guess … I guess I thought she was serious." Cass sighs. "I dunno. I just … it just seemed so important. She said it was a threat to national security, and like she needed proof, and she had a report that the trainer was going south through the forest on the, the whatever that trail's called, and could I go and join up with – well, uh, she said him so I guess she's an asshole as well as a liar."

Artemis flinches again, imagining a fat file full of data on her in whatever secret lair Giovanni's team operates from, hundreds and hundreds of pages of wrong pronouns and deadnames, and out of the corner of her eye sees Cass reaching out tentatively, pulling back again, mouth working silently.

What a fucking joke. She doesn't convince anyone, does she? They see her and they say she so politely to her face and then they go away and laugh with their friends at the guy in the dress. You saw Giovanni's report about that freak in Viridian Forest? Yeah, I know, who does he think he's fooling, shoulders like that? And Artemis, seriously? Yeah, right. A classical goddess he is not.

"Sorry," says Cass, after a while. "You didn't want or need to know that. I – yeah. Sorry. I just say the worst things sometimes."

Artemis moves her head slightly. Even she isn't sure whether it's a nod or a shake.

"And?" she asks quietly.

"And … and she told me to make friends with you, report where you went and call her if anything weird happened. Which it did. So like I started to believe her more, and I called her and told her stuff. About the – the horrible ghost thing on the moors, and the scyther, and … uh, when you went out at two am the other night dressed like you were gonna break in somewhere."

A soft crack, a cool stickiness; Artemis blinks and sees that she has crushed the remnants of her cone in her hand, ice cream oozing through her fingers. She makes no move to get up or throw it away.

"You, uh, you …" Cass trails off uncertainly. "I guess you know."

Artemis can feel the tears coming. She seems to be standing a long, long way off, watching her body twitch and leak and drip ice cream from its clenched fist.

"They arrested me," she says, voice cracking. "And they – if that League lady hadn't …"

She lowers her head, folds her face into her clean hand. It's the ugly kind of crying, the sort that tears weird hoarse noises from your throat and makes you choke. She feels Cass sitting, staring, torn between wanting to help and being afraid to touch her, and then at last she seems to make up her mind and leans in to put her arm around her.

"I'm so sorry," she says, sounding close to tears herself. "I'm just – I completely fucked up, I'm so sorry. Here, I – I think I got a tissue somewhere. Just, uh, gimme your ice cream, I think it's kinda ruined …"

An indeterminate amount of time passes. Artemis pulls herself together, more roughly than is fair to herself, and wipes her eyes and nose. She feels disgusting, and too afraid to take her eyes off the ground at her feet in case it turns out everyone in Cinnabar has piled into the square to stare at her.

"Are you okay?" asks Cass. She nods. "Okay. Okay, that's good. Do – do you wanna go back to the Centre?" She nods again. "Okay. Let's … do that. I'm, um, gonna let go of you now."

They get up. They walk, very slowly, back towards the Pokémon Centre.

Artemis does not lift her gaze from the pavement even once along the way. She is afraid that she will see a ghost person if she does.