ACT VII: NEW DEVELOPMENTS.

Time had warned Space about their younger sister, anti-matter. Her own way of thinking was clearly different from that of her brothers', often tending towards cynical and mischievous. When he wasn't contemplating the idea of going for a stroll through the galaxies, Space was often asking himself why The Great White even bothered to create such a strange creature like Anti-matter. She was everything It was not, taking more pleasure in destruction than creation, piling countless disasters on Its creations and brutalizing anything that moved, as long as it was weaker than her. The curses heaped upon her head could be heard even from the deepest recesses of vast nothingness and yet, she'd simply smile that idiotic smile of hers and break her victims down, one living building block at a time.

Anti-matter wouldn't try this on her brothers, of course. Even if they couldn't end each other, she was just as much afraid of pain as she was of the very element she controlled, death, and as a result, Space wondered just what she was doing in his presence, interrupting his millennial schedule. Anti-matter was trouble, no matter what angle he looked at her from and Time always said to keep one's distance from her, lest she drag one down to her level and leave them there to rot while she use their backs as stepping stones for her elevated enjoyment.

"Why do you look at me with those eyes, Brother?" she finally asked after an eternity of silence. For a moment, Space was enthralled by her lustrous voice, echoing proudly like waterfalls and yet managing to remain as smooth and as innocent as a newborn.

But he chose not to reply. Replying would be troublesome.

"Such wariness," she remarked, strolling up to him and stretching forth a slim, dark hand. He would have shrunk back from it, resisting her touch like the acclaimed poison that it was. However, he was a deity. More powerful than she could ever hope to be. If anything, she was far too dirty to slide her fingers down his skin but as their maker commanded, she was to be treated with the same amount of respect as any of Its creations

Honestly, Arceus spoiled her too much.

And apparently, so did he as he lowered his head to grace her dainty fingers.

"My dearest brother," she cooed, happy at his otherwise warm reception. "I always knew you'd be the only one kind enough to welcome me. All the others treated me like trash and shunned my presence. Not that it matters. At least I have the world to play with."

Or had, had The Great White not banned her after a gruesome war she had incited among Its creations centuries ago. But Space had neither time nor patience to correct her grammar. Anti-matter's visits were always the same, occasional and always without purpose, like the truly frivolous child that she was.

"Oh dear, am I bothering you?" she asked, peering into one of his eyes, her red reflection twice her size as she stared into an empty black pupil. "I simply came to relieve you of your endless boredom. I imagine that looking at all this space must be so droll after a couple of years. If I ventured a guess, I'd say you look forward to my visits."

In reply, the pupil she was looking into contracted and reddened further.

"Whoa there, brother!" she quickly said, holding up her sleeved arms innocently. "It was a joke, honest! No need to be so mad. Although..." Her hand pressed against the dark skin of his eyelid. "You do look cute when you're annoyed."

Another aimless discussion, Space inwardly sighed, patience wearing thinner than the golden strands of hair on his sister's head. As she chattered on and on about nonsense, he finally deemed it wise to act before he lost some valuable rest and a portion of his sanity. Willing the space around him to contract, he stared hard at the area behind his oblivious sister and gave his command.

A glorious black hole tore open behind the surprised goddess and she let out an excited laugh as it began to uproot her from her spot in his domain.

"Out."

"You finally spoke!" she giggled, looking back at him as the pull strengthened. "I knew I'd get a reaction out of you! Doesn't it feel nice to unleash your power once in a while, brother? I swear, you should come down with me to Earth and have some fun-"

"Out."

Anti-matter pouted and crossed her arms. "Fine. You'll come around eventually, be it at your own leisure or by something otherwise unpleasant. But know this, you can't stay cooped up forever. Follow me and I'll show you what true freedom looks like. For now, I'll just give you some space."

Her pun flew clear over her brother's head and she stuck out a tongue before disappearing into the void, finally giving him some peace and quiet. Kicking back and relaxing was his forte and no entity other than Arceus could take that from him.

But as he laid back and bowed his head once more, The Platinum-haired Entity with Deep Red Eyes couldn't help but fathom...as to the credibility of his sister's statement.

Oreburgh City.

It had been an entire day since the events concerning the suspected serial killer transpired, leaving the little town livelier than it had ever been in years. Either it was journalists from the mainland pouring by the scores or officers from Oreburgh's more populous neighbour, Jubilife, flooding in for investigations and questioning. Newcomers didn't even need to ask what had went down the night before. After all, one couldn't walk down the now-crowded streets without hearing snippets flung about in the noisy chorus of the crowd.

"...you hear? They say that weird serial killer's been caught!"

"No way!, For real?!"

"...heard he was done in by a group of trainers-"

"...were two of 'em! One blonde girl and a black-haired runt-"

"...boy was as strong as hell..."

"Hallucinating? I WAS FUCKING THERE!"

"...Hey, hey, jokes like that a-ain't funny, yo! You sayin' OUR Roark's da perp?!"

Piff rolled his eyes as he navigated his way through one such street on his way to the general hospital at the center of the town, making sure to keep his new hoodie up so as to avoid getting recognized. He shuddered to think of what would happen if an avalanche of people pressed against him for answers after some random person pointed him out right in the middle of the road.

"It could even cause a s-stampede," he stuttered, comically frightened. "I knew this was a bad idea, going out like this."

"And that's why you should thank me for getting you that rocking hoodie, boss!" Johnny's voice gloated from the safety of the Pokeball dangling from a string around the boy's neck. "And I didn't even have to use that gay-ass paper thing you humans drool over!"

"You mean money? Wait...DOES THAT MEAN YOU STOLE THIS?!"

"Stealing is a very harsh word, man. I call it "borrowing-till-further-notice". Hey, wanna know who I got it from? Some guy I found on the street! Haha, fucker passed out over his drink and I thought the hoodie 'n' booze was wasted on him so I borrowed his stuff."

Piff reflexively grimaced. "That explains why you came back dizzy and why this coat stinks of vomit! When we're through, you're returning this and taking a personal class in human do's and don'ts!"

Johnny huffed. "Tch. At least be grateful, dumbass."

The Chimchar's ride came to a stop and the duo found themselves staring at the heavily guarded hospital entrance. Flashing his Pokedex, the raven-haired trainer hastened past the doors and eagerly tossed his disguise aside before releasing Johnny who took a deep breath of fresh, sterilized air.

"All this trouble just to get a basket of fruits for lunch," Piff groaned, stretching a bit and letting Johnny scurry up to his head.

"Well, you ARE famous now, technically," Johnny mused. Piff's tired sigh echoed across the white hallways.

"And I just remembered that mom said I shouldn't do anything rash..." he mumbled, recollecting the past events. Upon finding out that Roark was the host, there had been an uproar and rumours had started flying faster than Yanma on a still summer day. Luckily, Cynthia was sharp enough to have the unconscious gym leader moved to the hospital without getting seen by any more people and had promptly rung up Jubilife's police force to keep the town's rising uneasiness at bay.

How she came across the chief officer's number was something Piff wished to know but fate would have none of that as for whatever reason under the sun, their blonde companion passed out as soon as Roark was admitted. It was only then that Piff had noticed how profusely that little scratch she had sustained on her cheek earlier was bleeding, draining her of all color whatsoever. Needless to say, her Pokemon were worried sick and refused to go to the PC even after she had been rushed off.

'I wonder how she could stand after losing that much?' the boy mused before getting a reality check and mentally face-palming. 'Of course, how would I know when I can regenerate, right?'

Muscle memory had his legs stopping right in front of a labelled door and he pushed it open carefully. The room was sparse, save for a window, a chair and a bed with machines beside it, connected to the limp, cordovan-haired man.

"Yo," Piff greeted, waltzing over as soon as Roark's hazy eyes flickered in his direction.

"Aahh...Pi..."

"Guess you're still too tired to speak." Drawing a chair over, the younger trainer set down his purchase and sat beside his bed, flashing a smile. "But it's great you woke up. Everyone was starting to think you'd fall into a coma or something! Good thing too because this incident got me involved in more ways than one!" His purple eyes found the ceiling interesting at that point. "This is totally cutting into my training time. I could've become a water-type master by now, dammit. Maybe even caught a Kyogre or two..."

By then, Roark's eyes seemed to have creased in amusement and Piff could even hear the brief chuckle under the oxygen mask strapped to the former's face.

"I'd...pay good money...to see that."

"Don't push yourself."

Roark ignored the advice and slowly sat up, grateful that Piff made no effort to stop him. The gym leader rubbed a hand against his head and groaned. "What happened?"

"You were possessed by a Darkrai. Long story short, our Pokemon beat the crud out of you and chased the annoying snot out of your body. You were out for a couple of hours but there weren't any serious damages to your body, aside from having all your energy leeched. You won't be walking for a couple of days though."

Roark gazed at his own limp figure and drifted to the bandages peeking out from Piff's collar. His eyes clouded.

"...I...must've caused you guys some trouble."

"A butt-load," Johnny deadpanned. Even though Roark didn't hear that, Piff still pinched Johnny's leg for the biting comment and gave the man a reassuring grin.

"It's not like it was your fault," he chirped, scratching at his neck. "But you did cause everyone to almost believe that you were the serial killer."

"What?!" Roark whisper-exclaimed, jolting so suddenly that bolts of pain flashed down his spine. Laying back, he took a moment to let the dizziness clear from his head before turning to Piff again. "So...the serial killer was a Darkrai...It makes sense."

Piff nodded thoughtfully. "He escaped but not many people were harmed... Some Pokemon did land in ICU though, but they pulled through."

"Great. Now I feel even less inclined to live," Roark deadpanned half-heartedly before looking out the window. "Oreburgh's not so sleepy today..."

Something followed after that but for the sake of the gym leader's pride, Piff chose to ignore it. After everything Roark had gone through, a less-than-manly sob was allowed once in a while.

"It's my fault," Piff heard him rasp weakly. "That...thing only attacks the weak-hearted. Rampardos's passing must've really turned my heart to mush for a Darkrai to possess it."

His hands trembled. "Arceus...how many people and Pokemon could I have killed? All because...because of my own weakness-"

"Roark," Piff cut-in, making sure to put as much grit into that name as possible. "We both don't want to go through our little talk again. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault."

Roark stiffened before laughing dryly at Piff's admittedly-silly excuse for a serious face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it."

The gym leader's face crumpled. "I'm...sorry." A lone tear rolled down his cheeks. "I'm so...sorry..."

Surprisingly, it was Johnny who reached out and placed a yellow hand on the cordovan tangle of hair. Startled, Roark could just stare as the fire monkey broke into an intense speech, one he obviously couldn't understand. He did, however, see Piff's expressions change with each passing second till it turned into a full-blown look of disgust.

"What...did he say?" he asked in confusion as Johnny hopped down and went out with a sagely look on his face.

Piff scratched his chin and fidgeted while staring anywhere but at Roark. "Uh well...He told you to..." Man the fuck up or I'll push that pity-party look in your eyes so far up your ass, you'll- "He told you to accept and move past this incident, just like what I said when Rampardos passed away. H-he also said that no matter what happens...keep the people of Oreburgh in mind when you're making your decision to resign."

The ravenette's grin softened as he placed a hand on Roark's shoulder. "My mom always said to think of stuff like this as experience. Now you can probably warn everyone and take charge in case something similar happens again! Also, no one thinks this whole thing is your fault. Do you wanna know why there are so many people out there? They're worried! Some of them are even protesting against the officers who want to take you in for questioning! Look at them, Roark. Like it or not, you are their pokemon-wielding leader and you owe it to them to remain that way in their eyes. It's what Rampardos would say, am I wrong?"

Roark stared in silence at the young trainer, awed once more at the level of maturity the boy exuded with every word he spoke. Expression hidden behind his red bangs, the man nodded mutely and faced the window before taking up the glasses lying on the sill.

"You're right."

He turned to face him again, all doubts pushed aside as he threw a thumbs up and mirrored Piff's smile. "Oreburgh is my responsibility and therefore it's my job to clean up after this mess I've indirectly caused, once I'm strong enough."

Piff looked at the hand extended out to him. "Piff Rosewood. You're more of a man and a trainer than I could hope to be. But I'll be sure to knock you down a few pegs when you fight my buffed up team."

"Heh! That's the Roark I know!" the boy cheered, expression lighting up considerably as he shook the hand. "I'm looking forward to it! And I'll train hard too!"

Roark nodded. "Good to hear. Now then..." He suddenly collapsed against his bed looking more worn out than ever. "Please excuse me while I pass out again..."

Piff chuckled heartily and stood up. "I guess I'll see you some other time then. Be sure to keep my badge ready."

"Hmph. Yeah...I'll do...that..."

Piff shut the door behind him as the gym leader slept, careful to leave some Pinap berries on the man's bedside table.

Zoey did always tell him that rock-types loved Pinap berries.

Piff quietly stepped into another room and, to his exasperation and annoyance, caught Johnny Firebottoms red-handed with a marker on the face of his victim.

"Pokeball. Now," he ordered and fire monkey disappeared in a red flash before he could protest. Tucking the item into his pocket, he trooped over to Cynthia's bedside and gently lifted the two exhausted Pokemon sleeping on either side of her pillow before drawing a chair and resuming what he'd been doing for the past 17 hours.

Watching. Yes, he knew it was creepy but Piff had taken it upon himself to watch Cynthia just in case her condition worsened, although chances of that were unlikely, according to the doctor in charge. If all went well, she'd be awake in a couple of hours and they'd be on the road soon enough.

"Soon enough" being still too far for the impatient trainer as the ticks of the clock once again started to grate on his nerves.

"Hey," he whispered, leaning close to the sleeping girl's ear with a scowl on his features. "Wake the hell up already, dammit. You've been asleep all day."

And for the first time since she had passed out, Cynthia stirred. Excited, Piff leaned closer as her lips began to move.

"...mmm..."

"Huh?"

"...mnngh..."

"Hey, hey, you sleep talk? Speak up, blonde. I can't hear you."

"...No...Piff...I don't want to see...your vagina..."

Piff was too baffled to be angry as she tucked herself in further and snored lightly. Seeing the satisfied smile on her face finally pissed him off and he eagerly reached for the marker Johnny had dropped.

"I do not have a vagina," he snickered sardonically as he began to scribble. "However, I'm pretty sure you had a thingie under those bangs, slanty-eyes."

"Who're you calling 'slanty-eyes'?!" Cynthia screamed, jerking awake and crashing her forehead against Piff's. Screaming murder, Piff collapsed and began to roll across the floor while clutching his aching head.

"Argh! Dammit, what the hell!" he spewed, getting up with fire in his purple eyes.

Totally unaffected by the headbutt, Cynthia blinked her bleary vision away and narrowed her eyes at the angry boy. "My eyes are not slanted."

"That's what you're angry about? I drew a freaking dick on your face!"

Cynthia gasped and slapped a hand against her forehead. "What? How dare you!"

"You said I had a vagina!" he roared, earning a look of confusion from her. It was almost painful to watch as realization dawned on her features.

"Oh." A smirk. "And what else is new?"

She cocked her brow as Piff wordlessly straightened to full height. Then she gasped as his hands flew to his zipper.

"Oh my God, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Proving you wrong." Like it was the simplest explanation in the freaking universe!

"Piff. Stop."

A belt buckle unclasped.

"Piff."

His boxers were unsurprisingly blue with Magikarp prints sprawled all over.

"Shit, wait!" she cried as his thumbs hooked around the elastic waistband of his underwear. Jerking forward, her hands locked around his wrists and it took everything in her just to keep him steady.

"Let me go! I must prove myself lest my dignity be shattered once again!" he protested over-dramatically, inching his boxers down despite her grip. "How can I call myself a man when the wench from my nightmares thinks otherwise?!"

"Okay, I get it! I hurt your feelings and I'm sorry!" Cynthia blurted, not wanting to see what terrors laid hidden behind those idiotic Magikarp prints. "Just don't drop your thingie in front of me."

Piff was hesitant at first before relenting and pulling up his pants. "And the proud Cynthia finally apologizes. Just so you know, I really was prepared to drop my boxers."

"Good to know," she hissed, throwing her legs off the bed and finally registering the bandage on her right cheek. Heaving a sigh, she looked at the clock and asked, "How long?"

"A couple of hours," Piff answered. "Roark got up sometime ago and besides being really tired, he's alright."

"Great. I was starting to think he'd lose an organ or two after that crazy brawl. Where're Turtwig and G-"

Piff gestured to the couch nearby, cutting her off with the sight of her young Pokemon sleeping beside each other.

"Your Pokemon were really worried about you. Didn't go to the PC with me until a nurse confirmed that you'd be okay. The second they were healed, Turtwig and Gible rushed back here on their own. Said they wanted to protect you just in case anything happens."

"Oh..." was all Cynthia could mutter as she quietly went to them and crouched to view them up close. Slowly, a smile spread across her face and she tentatively reached out a hand to stroke Turtwig's cheek. The Tiny Turtle Pokemon actually smiled in its sleep. "I only just met these guys sometime ago and they're this attached?"

"I'm jealous," Piff said, although jokingly. "Johnny'd probably catch the next bus ride to nowhere instead of staying and watching me sleep. As for Wooper...hell, I have no idea what she's thinking."

Cynthia looked over her shoulder, slightly wide-eyed. "Your Wooper is a girl?"

"I only found out yesterday when the Nurse gave her back to me. She's not much of a talker so I couldn't exactly tell," he replied, mildly embarrassed. Cynthia merely cocked a brow and turned back to her Pokemon, letting the silence continue unabated. For the next five minutes, both trainers stared at the sleeping Pokemon, immersed in their thoughts. On Piff's end, he was looking forward to when they could finally leave Oreburgh since he was still itching to get on with his training. However, he'd have been lying if he said he didn't worry for Cynthia's well-being too. After all they had seen, even he was shaken up a bit. Never had he suffered such an injury as a direct stab to his freaking heart and to be honest, he had no idea if his weird regenerative condition could cover such a mortal injury.

Strangely, the hole had closed not up to three hours later.

Once again, his hand unconsciously found itself against his chest, basking in the rhythmic beating of that fist-sized red muscle. How was Cynthia going to view him? Even if Piff had his slow times, experience still taught him, often cruelly, that exposing his power could alter impressions, almost to a jarring extent. Was Cynthia scared of him now?

"You know, I used to hate Pokemon."

Piff's head snapped up in surprise at Cynthia's statement. "Huh?"

The girl was thankful that her back was turned to him. She possibly couldn't imagine the look on his face and wasn't too inclined to find out. "Surprising? Yeah. What person in his or her right mind hates Pokemon, after how mutually we coexist? Well, I got slashed by a wild Garchomp when I was 10. It was really my fault for straying too deeply into the canyons near Celestic Town, where I come from and besides, I'm sure it was just protecting its territory. But it wasn't the attack that made me hate it. It was how something like that could reduce me to a screaming wreck and remain blameless. I was the tough one back in my hometown, known for being logical and unbreakable in the worst situations. And yet there I was, feelings completely exposed as I lay bleeding on the rocky floor.

"At that moment, I hated the Pokemon for giving me a weakness and every other pocket monster for reminding me of that day."

Piff leaned against his chair. "So...what changed?"

Cynthia scoffed. "I'm not sure. My sister got sicker? I needed to grow up? Or maybe my prideful self wanted to stick it to my memories and take a Pokemon along for this quest just to salvage my dignity."

Piff couldn't help but give a lop-sided smirk. "You're pretty proud."

"True...but it helped me get over the fear and childish grudge. But then...yesterday happened."

"I fail to see the point here-"

"You!" she cut in, spinning around to face him with a finger jammed to his chest. "I should have died yesterday. Seeing that Darkrai's talons with my name on it had me rooted to the asphalt even though I could've moved. I had no plans to use you as my shield. You...were just saving my pride before I made a mess of myself..."

"The hell were you standing there for, Cynthia? You weren't supposed to be the bait till we had no other choice."

"Clearly," she reeled, poking him harder. "You knew my plans didn't entail that and threw yourself in anyway. Admirable sense of heroism aside, you saw me at my moment of weakness and tactfully ignored it."

Piff scratched his cheek. "And?"

"You know the real me..." she responded in a tiny voice, drawing back and holding herself while looking away. "The...weak, powerless, generic damsel-in-distress me..."

At that moment, a gust of wind blew through the window and sent Cynthia's hair waving wildly, shifting the bangs over her left eye and revealing the jagged scar spanning the length of her forehead and coming to a curved stop just above her left eye. She was quick to brush her hair down although by then, Piff had gotten a clear view of a source of her insecurity.

"So...bet you don't want to tag along with a two-faced person like me," she blurted before crossing her arms and shifting expressions. "But it's not like I really need you all the time or anything. I-I'll just wait for you to recover your stupid memories and be out of your way. Hmph!"

When she finally snuck a peek at his face after her little tirade, she was met with a blank, if not stupid look from him. Wait, was that...fascination in his eyes? Either way, it disappeared quickly and was replaced by a sudden twinkle of amusement and- if Cynthia's eyes weren't deceiving her- delight.

"And I thought I was the weird one!" he burst out, laughing hysterically until he dropped.

"W-what's so funny, you idiot?!" Cynthia barked, annoyed. "I just laid myself bare! The least you can do is say something sensible!"

"Ahaha, sorry, sorry," he spluttered, banging a hand against the floor as he tried to quell his laughter. "It's...It's just that I was thinking you'd call me a monster or something after all the weird stuff I did during the fight with Darkrai."

Straightening up, he brushed his bangs aside and smirked. "But I was worrying for nothing. And so are you."

"Pardon?!" she yelled and froze as his hand shot out, grabbing the back of her head and holding her in place. "H-hey, w-what're you-"

"Shut up and let me see," he snapped back, parting her hair in one sweeping motion. Cynthia protested for a bit but gave up upon realizing how iron-stiff his grip was. The fascination was back in his purple eyes as he ran a finger across the scar, stopping at her left eye. "It looks deep. Must've hurt like heck."

"I cried like a Whismur when Grandma applied the iodine," she elaborated too quickly. Her hand reached up to shift his arm away but was promptly held down by his free hand.

"I think it's cool."

Cynthia froze. "Don't screw with me."

"I'm serious," he replied just as firmly. "You probably don't know this but guys dig girls with one or two scars."

"I'm not interested in knowing your fetish," she deadpanned though her face seemed to have lost its tension.

"Okay, maybe I exaggerated a bit but who cares! No one sees a scar like this and automatically thinks you're weak. Trust me. If anything, you've got a manlier scar than me!"

He tore off his headband and parted his jet-black hair, showing the small line across his forehead. Cynthia couldn't hold back the giggle that burst through her lips.

"That's a really tiny scar," she snorted, poking it. "How did you get this? Fell from the stairs?"

Piff blushed. Cynthia smiled even wider.

"Gay."

"Shut up. You get the idea," he snapped, putting his headband back on and letting go of her head. "And the whole salvaging your pride thing?"

"Yeah?"

Slowly, Piff stuck a finger up his nose and looked away with sudden disinterest. "Yeah. I have no idea what you were talking about there 'cause I honestly thought it was part of the plan."

"THAT is a lie, Piff. I read those plans to you and Johnny. Thrice. Unless you slept with your eyes open or something..."

His look of disinterest remained. However, the interesting blush of embarrassment was enough to elicit a hit from the blonde.

"I hate you," Cynthia hissed, though a hint of mirth accompanied the stinging tone.

"I hate me too," Piff countered, flopping onto her unoccupied bed. "Now that that's settled, are you okay enough to walk?"

Cynthia took two steps back and one step forward with a mocking flourish.

"Good. Then let's hit the road!" he declared, hopping off enthusiastically and producing their bags from nowhere, making Cynthia sweatdrop at how prepared he was to leave. "Those Magikarp won't fish themselves and I'm itching to catch more Pokemon!"

"You're a nutcase," Cynthia remarked as he bounced out of the room to inform the nearest nurse. When he was out of earshot, she touched the scar on her head and found herself feeling quite hot and bothered in the face. "Thank you, idiot."

Sinnohvian Military Council HQ, Veilstone City.

"It's been confirmed that a Darkrai was the culprit behind the string of gruesome murders that plagued Southwestern Sinnoh. Whether it has been acting under orders or otherwise is still under investigation and debate. In other news, Oreburgh's Gym Leader Roark and similar hosts have been cleared of all allegations and the Sinnohvian Council has issued a formal apology to families affected by the unjust accusations piled against their formerly-arrested family members, putting the Council under severe questioning of order and criticism."

Saturn crumpled the newspaper in his hands and chucked the wad forward, nailing the bowing Darkrai before him in the head.

"It's also confirmed that Pokemon are idiots!" he barked angrily to the ceiling, slouching in his reclining chair with his sparkling white shoe-clad feet on the table. "You had one job, Slattern. One. Measly. JOB."

"My apologies, sir," the Pokemon of darkness mumbled, tone completely flat as he watched the wad of paper fall harmlessly to the ground. "However, none of the humans I possessed where strong enough to house my full power. As such, I could not go all out. Furthermore, I was given specific instructions to eliminate anything that could prove hazardous to the mission and-"

"Excuses, excuses, blah, blah, blah," Saturn finished, waving a hand dismissively. "What's so hard in snatching a 14 year old boy, killing a girl and being on your merry way?"

"Said boy has strength exceeding many powers that I know of. Possibly Regigigas's, even-"

"So put him in a dark void. A human body can pull off that much, at least!"

Slattern lowered his azure gaze. "I...used up all my energy killing off the mistakes."

A wine glass broke across his head, sending him face first into a puddle of his own blood and reeling in agony. Saturn dropped the wine glass and began to stamp on the sunken shadow, adding insult to injury with each cruel blow.

"You idiotic excuse for a beast of burden! I told you to save your energy for the main target but you just had to come with that independent nature of yours, didn't you?! When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it! Don't get it in over your tiny head just because you're a legendary! Even ancient beasts can still be compressed inside Pokeballs and be made to serve the humans they helped create! A POKEMON IS STILL A POKEMON AND I SUGGEST YOU START ACTING LIKE ONE OR ELSE I'M TAKING YOU WITH ME FOR MY SUNNY SUMMER AFTERNOON WALK! UNDERSTAND?!"

Darkrai was too beaten and limp to answer but the fear in his eyes as Saturn raised his foot was enough of a confirmation that he got the message.

"Get out of my sight. You're dirtying my floor," the blue-haired man spat, lighting a cigarette and gesturing for the aide nearby to clean his blood-soaked shoe. Trembling, Darkrai sank through the floor, a pronounced groan wafting through the halls as he disappeared. "Tch. Pokemon."

"Someone's in a frosty mood," a too-cheery voice cooed from behind the chair, earning a considerable downward slant of Saturn's trimmed eyebrows.

"I don't have time for games, clown."

Long, spidery fingers wrapped around the edges of the headrest and both Saturn and his attendant found themselves significantly creeped out as a tall, lanky, azure-haired individual loomed over them both from behind Saturn's seat. So tall was he that his head was hanging upside down to face the sweatdropping Saturn.

"Tsk tsk, name-calling doesn't suit you, Major General."

"I don't want lectures from you of all people," the Galactic member hissed, unsure of what the cartoonish smile he was seeing entailed. "Anyway, I'm very busy answering to those old Mareep at the Council so I suggest you go play with the other commanders."

"But they're away and I'm bored. Paperwork is such a bother," the tall man sulked, straightening up and bringing an ice blue finger to his chin in thought. "Oh I know! Why don't you let me in on Slattern's first of possible-numerous failures?"

"If it gets you to go away," Saturn grumbled, holding up a folder. "The General wants us to retrieve the orbs and Slattern found one of them after so many years. Problem is, the orb's walking."

"Oh?" A blue brow rose. "A host, perhaps?"

"Yeah. His name's Coliot Piff Rosewood-"

The clown froze.

"-and he just started training Pokemon three days ago. In Slattern's report, the boy was far too strong to be contained at half-power and...Hey, are you listening to me?"

"By the deity's of time and space. This picture looks familiar," his colleague gasped, staring hard at the grainy photo of the black-haired trainer. "Oh so familiar."

"What, you know him?"

"Know him?" The fingers on the picture clenched so hard that the photo crumpled under his grip. The tall man raised his smiling face, revealing his horrendous scars in full entirety. The attendant had to turn away as the skinless holes where his nose, lips and ears should have been left a bad taste in her mouth. "He did this to me. Ah~ Coliot Zoom... The pleasant child with a temper grew up to be quite the fine-looking young lad~"

Saturn grimaced and moved to get back to his work. "Zoom? So he's the one from that botched mission that cost Mercury his life, eh Pluto? Hm. Tough."

"But it makes so much sense now!" Pluto shrieked happily, slamming the picture against the table and startling the attendant. "You have to let me meet him, Sattie!"

"What did I say about nicknames," the shorter Galactic growled, growing more and more stressed by Pluto's obnoxious presence. And was he juggling Saturn's glasses collection?! "Put those down, you freak! And the answer is no! Arceus, if you want to ask someone, ask the General although I'm sure even you would know the answer."

"Then I'll just sneak out-"

"I wouldn't think about it."

Both Saturn and Pluto straightened up into a salute directed at the voice coming through the door far ahead.

"Lieutenant General Pierrot Bason, sir!" they barked in unison as the authoritative figure made its way to the desk in the middle of the vast room. The attendant was new so she didn't salute right away.

Which was easily forgiven when she was so blatantly staring at the talking Empoleon right in front of her.

"If I may ask, sir, what brings you to my humble office?" Saturn inquired once the Pokemon decked in medals waved a wing dismissively.

"I wished to know the state of affairs concerning the orbs' retrieval," he replied, tapping a steel wing on the table. "The General grows impatient by the day and I have my wings full keeping such curiosity at bay. Judging from the various reports I've heard on the news, however, it seems like one of your plans failed."

"Busted," Pluto whispered.

Act your own goddamned age. Saturn inwardly sneered. "New arrangements are being made as we speak. If worst comes to worst, I can always send the field-majors."

Pierrot gazed at the various papers neatly stacked on the desk. "And I can assume you don't know the whereabouts of the Griseous Orb, yes?"

"Yes sir...unfortunately."

Pierrot raised one red eye. "Machina's awakening...what's the status report?"

"That sleepyhead refuses to get up, sir," Pluto sighed, shrugging. "The Science Department is at its wits' end. And it'd be such a shame to throw him away, given how useful he'll be as an orb-tracker."

Pierrot muttered something under his beak and turned away, white coat rustling behind him. "If memory serves, Eterna City will be Coliot Zoom's next destination. Saturn."

"Sir!"

"Get Major Netherland on the line and tell him to keep his men alert. No one goes in or out of the city unnoticed, am I clear?"

"Yes sir!"

Wordlessly, Pierrot strutted out and the trio visibly relaxed, Saturn grimacing the most.

"I can't believe I have to answer to a fat, goddamned Pokemon."

"Careful now~" Pluto sang, peeling open his snake-like eyes. "That 'fat, goddamned Pokemon' saved my life."

"Spare me the details, please."

"It all began on that eventful day-"

Without missing a beat or looking up from his papers, Saturn pushed a button under his desk and activated the custom-built trapdoor right underneath Pluto's feet.

"You're cruel!" were his last words as he disappeared down the hatch, granting some much needed peace to the vast hall. When a suitable minute of silence passed, Saturn's attendant took a deep breath and straightened properly.

"P-permission to speak, sir!"

"What is it?"

"Um...Who was that Empoleon and...why could he talk?"

Saturn didn't answer immediately, letting the question hang in the air like a criminal sentenced to the gallows. It wasn't until a good ten minutes later when he was just about finished signing the last batch that he deemed himself free enough to answer.

"That...is Lieutenant General Pierrot Bason, second only to the General and our superior. Though I've been a Galactic member longer than he has, that treacherous Empoleon has something beneficial to our goal that neither I nor anyone save for the General know about. I'm pretty sure that secret of his has something to do with how he can talk... and it pisses me off to no end that he's a rank above me."

His cold eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at the door where his "superior" had just exited. "Christ. To think we have to rely on him of all things. A traitorous Pokemon who sold his own herd out to hunters and stained his wings just so he can get up here, sidle up to the General and behave like a freaking human when clearly, he's anything but-"

"Sir...you snapped your prized pen."

Looking down, Saturn's expression went placid at the sight of the pitch-black ink currently smearing across his hands like abyssal puddles. He thanklessly accepted the cloth held out to him, wiped his hand, picked up the old-styled telephone sitting at the edge of his desk and dialed a sequence of numbers.

Dial tone.

Dial tone.

Dial tone.

"Hey there, big bro Netherland!" he exclaimed so loudly that the poor attendant jumped. Wearing a grin far too wide for someone of his countenance, he listened to the rambling on the other end and twirled listlessly on the golden cord. "I see, I see! I am soooo sorry for interrupting you in the middle of your hangover, you party animal, but you've got orders, man! Remember that city we put under your jurisdiction? Yeah. Lock it down. Against the rules? Pfft, we are the rules, bro! ...Yeah. Yup. Insurgents? You're worried about that Gardenia giving you a hard time? Well you know what they always say, my beloved big brother. When you've got a thorn in your side, all you gotta do is pull it out. And feed it to a rabid Rhydon. Oh, it's nothing special. Pierrot just wants you to catch some kids. I'll mail you the details. Sure, I got it. What was that? Invitation for your girlfriend's birthday? Haha, sorry but I'll have to pass! Okay. Yeah. Buh-bye!"

That was the loudest the attendant had ever heard her boss speak and she cluelessly adjusted her circular glasses while watching as Saturn placed the phone gently against its holder.

His smile devolved into a sadistic smirk. "Fucking tool. Martha."

"Sir!"

"Brew me a fresh pot of tea. All that manipulating makes me parched."

"Yes sir."

As the ditzy woman with dark blue tresses sauntered off to perform her duties, Saturn let out a low chuckle as he folded his fingers over his lips and stared into nowhere.

"If I'm going to follow a Pokemon's orders, I'm at least going to have some fun while I'm at it."