Author's Note:
Long chapter. Couldn't cut anything. Sorry! D:

However, it's also the first chapter where a major edit happened. The majority of this one was actually completely rewritten this week, so if you followed the Serebii version ... woo! New content! \o/

Also, shout-out as always to Doreh. Thanks so much for your awesome questions, yo! I'll get to them eventually, I swear, but you did indeed have a lot of interesting points.

That said, not gonna delay you any further from this week's emotional roller coaster, so enjoy! :D

Thirteen

D.E.V.A. CLEARANCE LEVEL 1
CLEARANCE ACCEPTED.
DOCUMENT TYPE: DOSSIER
DESIGNATION: D.E.V.A. PERSONNEL CODEX ENTRY #000002-C
DESCRIPTION: D.E.V.A.—STRUCTURAL OVERVIEW, FUNCTION AND STRUCTURE OF ARC THREE
DATE-TIME: LAST EDIT, 07/01/97, 10:38

Arc Three, known by D.E.V.A. agents as the Field Team, are tasked with the retrieval and control of objects as well as the defense and security of D.E.V.A. sites. In order to complete these goals, Arc Three works hand-in-hand with Arc Four (Reconnaissance Team), sometimes to the point where their duties will overlap. As such, Arcs Three and Four are expected to exercise a level of transparency between their departments, and it is not unusual for an Arc Three agent to be paired with an Arc Four operative for the duration of a mission. Besides the assistance offered by Arc Four, Arc Three agents also have D.E.V.A.'s full arsenal at their disposal, provided they obtain appropriate permissions before use. (See Form A3.408.)

Upon induction into Arc Three, agents are to be given the Employee Handbook, the comprehensive set of guidelines for handling object acquisitions, security breaches, crises, and general office situations. Arc Three agents are expected to refer to the handbook in all circumstances to avoid public attention and inadvertent object neutralization. Please note that all violations to the procedures outlined in the handbook may be punishable by immediate termination of employment within D.E.V.A. (See Memory Wipes—Acceptable Circumstances and Agent Neutralization.)

Because members of Arcs Three and Four are at a high risk of contacting civilians and other non-D.E.V.A. entities, identity security is considered top priority. While agents may be addressed by name over secure communication lines and within D.E.V.A.-owned facilities, agents on the field must carry the standard issue Employee Field Kit (See Employee Field Kit—Lethe Device) at all times and address one another by D.E.V.A.-appointed code names.

Official Arc structure and code name guidelines are as follows:

Director
Current Member: Councilor Three, [REDACTED]
Director serves as liaison between Arc Three and the Committee. Responsible for overseeing all Arc Three operations. May be present for larger-scale situations.

Magnificent 22 (M-22)
Notable Agents: Agent Zayin ([REDACTED]), Agent Yod ([REDACTED]), Agent Kaph ([REDACTED])
Highly trained agents chosen by Councilor Three for their skills and excellence in past operations. Considered a "last resort" for D.E.V.A.; called upon only in high-risk operations (deemed as such either due to the risk of exposure or the risk of worldwide catastrophe, including doomsday scenarios). See also: MAJESTIC 12.

Task Force Alpha
Deals strictly with object containment/control and standard security procedures (e.g., guard duty, escort duty, other non-emergency situations). Agents within Task Force Alpha are assigned code names consisting of their agent title and any number from 23 to 499.

Task Force Omega
Deals strictly with breaches, exposure situations, and situational control, including authorized object neutralization, civilian memory modification, and other emergency protocols. Agents within Task Force Omega are assigned code names consisting of their agent title and any number from 500 to 999. See also: D.E.V.A. Colloquialisms—The Cleanup Crew.

—

Bill awoke to a dark room and the feeling of warmth pressing against him. He groaned and shifted slightly. A dull ache radiated from points just behind his eyes, and his body felt stiff and heavy. Next to him, the warmth shifted and pressed itself uncomfortably against him, and craning his neck, he caught sight of Raye curled tightly against his side. She was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically in deep, steady breaths. Carefully so as not to wake her, Bill wormed away from Raye, inching until he slipped to the edge of the bed. Once there, he sat up, placed his feet on the ground, and stood. His legs tingled but held his weight, much to his surprise and relief.

With the question of whether or not he was well enough to be back on his feet out of the way, Bill let his attention wander to his surroundings. He recognized it immediately from his days as a trainer: it was one of the recovery cubicles in the back of the pokémon center, just beside the operating rooms of the emergency center. Part of him felt uncomfortable, awkward in all the memories he had of places like these, of the sterile air and hard mattresses, of the curtains drawn up around each bed to afford every trainer and injured pokémon some remote sense of privacy. How many times had he been in cubicles like these, especially towards the end of his training career? How many hours did he spend, staring at his own pokémon and mulling over all the mistakes he made? How long did he spend thinking about how much of every injury was his fault? He was never put off by any other part of a pokémon center, but these cubicles always made him feel on edge, like a splinter of guilt was tugging at the rest of his mind.

So, before anything else, he had to get out. Glancing back at Raye, he took a deep breath and prepared to slip out as quietly as he could.

"You're up. Good."

Bill nearly fell through the curtain separating the bed from the rest of the room as he whirled around to face the source of the voice. Sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed was Lanette, her legs delicately crossed and her eyes fixed hard on Bill. As soon as his gaze fell on her, she stood and threw something at him. The bundle hit him in the face, and he fumbled to catch them before he could see what they were. Finally, as soon as they settled in his arms, he looked down to see a set of clothes.

"Put those on," she said in a harsh whisper. "You're in the pokémon center's clinic. There are several other humans on the other side of this curtain, and I'm not about to make them look at one of the things that forced them to be here."

Glancing down at Raye, Bill made sure she was still asleep before moving around the bed to stand by Lanette. When he was at her side, he set the clothes down and got to work.

"Good to see you too," he muttered. Then, pulling a pale blue shirt from the pile, he eyed it carefully. A spark of recognition fired in his brain, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the article in confusion. "This is mine."

"Of course it is."

Bill pulled the pants out of the pile. They were old, gray slacks, but they were just as familiar. Gently running his thumb over them, he realized that the familiar sensation of cotton wasn't coming to him. He couldn't feel it through his metal skin, no matter how much he tried to force his brain to recall what it felt like. Upon realizing that, he shuddered.

"Sorry," he said. "I just thought … I thought you'd get rid of these."

"You're wasting time," Lanette hissed. "In any case, why would I? As far as I was concerned, you were still safe in Kanto, not getting yourself infected."

Putting the pants down, he slipped the shirt on and almost regretted it. Another shudder ran down his back as he realized how wrong it felt now. He could feel the light pressure of something against his armor, the same sensation one gets when wearing a coat for the first time after a long summer. But that was it. Nothing else. And that thought made him feel strange in his own skin—quite literally.

"I didn't get myself infected," Bill grumbled, a little relieved that at least he had Lanette to distract him during this process. "It's a long story, but the short of it is Team Rocket did this to me."

"Team Rocket?"

Bill slipped on the pants, careful to avoid shredding them with his toes. "Also a long story."

Lanette crossed her arms. "Bill, I'm going to have to hear all of those stories eventually."

For a long while, he said nothing. He only concentrated on putting his clothes on, on figuring out dilemma after dilemma of what to do with them now that his body wasn't shaped like a human's anymore. The pants were the first hurdle. He realized the legs bent oddly when he walked, which was a problem he knew he wouldn't be able to fix, and the waist got in the way of his tail, a problem he knew he could fix, although he didn't want to. Swallowing, Bill clenched his teeth, sliced a small hole in the back of his pants with his tail, and slipped the arrowhead tip through. Ruined pants. Oh well. After this was all over, he would just buy new ones, right?

But would it be over?

The thought had threatened to creep into Bill's mind again, and refusing to break down in front of Lanette, he shook it off and reached for the next garment. A red scarf. His thumb stroked the material for a second, but then he wound it around his neck, covering both his collar and the plates lining both sides of his throat. Finally, he reached down again for a pair of black leather gloves. Those were for hiding his claws. He knew that the moment he noticed them in the pile.

"I know," he said at last while he slipped the gloves on. "But I get the feeling that if you're here, then you want to discuss something else with me."

"Yes."

Last garment. A brown ascot cap. Like he had with the others, Bill had to stop and stare at this one for a moment. As a human, he liked to wear this when he was out in town and didn't want to be recognized. Staring at it now, his mind wandered back to how strange this situation was. It wasn't just that he couldn't feel the material. It was that, holding this object in his hands, he could smell himself on it—a scent that he could recognize as him, just without the metallic sharpness of his current form. And it was that, beyond the hat, he could hear the breathing of every last pokémon and human in that room. All of his senses were wrong, and right then, his brain was screaming that fact.

And it awoke inside him two things.

Fear.

And a question. A question that had been delayed for the past several minutes.

No, Adam replied. You cannot go back.

Bill pulled the hat on roughly, yanking it over his horns. That was its purpose now. Not to hide his fame. To hide what he was.

"Well?" Lanette asked.

Bill took a breath and shook his head. "Sorry. Lost in thought."

"About?"

He looked at her—but not really at her. He knew better than to look into her eyes, to issue that kind of challenge to her. Instead, he looked at her lips, at the sharp frown she gave him.

"I left Kadabra in charge at home," he said. "I wonder what they're doing now. My pokémon, I mean."

"You can't go back."

"So Adam's told me."

"Adam?"

Bill straightened. "Oh. I guess I haven't introduced you, have I?" He pulled part of his shirt aside, just enough for her to see the jewel on his chest. "This is Adam. Adam, this is Lanette."

Lanette arched an eyebrow. "You named it?"

We have met, Adam replied.

It was the second response that made Bill jump. After a moment's hesitation, he held up a finger to Lanette.

"One moment." Then, turning away, he lowered his voice to a harsh, quieter whisper. "What do you mean, 'You've met'?!"

While you were busy feeling sorry for yourself within our shared dreamscape, I took the liberty conversing with Lanette so that we may achieve a better strategic position within this settlement, Adam explained. You are welcome for that, by the way.

"No," Bill growled. "Don't take liberties with our body! I didn't give you permission to do that!"

Before Adam could respond, a hand grabbed Bill's shoulder and roughly spun him back around. When he stopped, he found himself facing Lanette, who was, to his surprise, gazing at him with an expression of boredom, not rage.

"Although I would be an idiot to trust that thing," Lanette said, "your parasite has made a thoroughly convincing argument."

"I'm terrified to ask, but for what?"

"For not killing you both."

Bill nodded. "Oh. That's … that's progress. Fantastic."

"So I suggest you face me when you speak to it and let me hear what you're saying," Lanette said. "Furthermore, it has requested that I allow you to wander about Fallarbor freely until you decide not to stay here anymore. Which I do hope is soon."

At that, Bill rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ceiling. "Also good."

"And for that reason, I've decided to personally speak with you and answer any questions you have so that the people of Fallarbor will leave you alone." She glanced down for a second. "Hide your tail."

Bill looked over his shoulder at the appendage. It wasn't overly thick or stiff, but with its length and width, he knew he would have a difficult time winding it under his shirt. So instead, he shifted it behind him and turned his gaze back to Lanette.

"I think that'll be a little difficult," he said.

She lowered her eyes to peer at him from over the rim of her spectacles. "Then hold it."

"Why?"

"Because for Raye's sake, we're moving our conversation to a more private location, but in doing so, we'll have to pass by the survivors of the last ixodida attack," she said. "If you carried your tail, it will look less like a part of you."

Bill had thought about objecting, about arguing that they would see it snake around to his back and that, anyway, it was a thoroughly alien-looking thing, but he closed his mouth instead. No, he needed Lanette as an ally, and if he wanted a partnership between them to take root again, he had to do as she said. So exhaling, he brought his tail up and held it in his arms as if it was a bouquet of flowers.

"Good," Lanette said as she reached up to pull aside the curtain. "After you."

Walking was more awkward now, Bill noticed. The tail had served as a stabilizer, as a counterweight to the rest of his body, and without it swaying behind him with each step, he felt as if he was about to pitch forward with every movement he made.

I do not like this, Adam said.

Neither do I, Bill replied, but we don't have a choice, do we?

Speaking to me mentally now?

Bill gritted his teeth. I'd rather not let Lanette hear us.

Wise decision. We cannot have her know about our plans, Adam said.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Bill slowed a little to let Lanette catch up with him. And what plans would that be?

Our next step, Adam replied. It is true that we cannot stay in Fallarbor forever. We must plan what we will do, now that we are technically free.

"Bill."

He snapped his head towards Lanette. She had stopped, gazing intently at him.

"Pay attention," she said.

"S-sorry," he responded. "I…"

He shook his head, looked up for the first time, and realized then what she meant. The cubicle he had shared with Raye was the only closed one in a large, open-plan clinic. Lining both sides of the room, running right up to the doorway to the lobby, were several other cubicles, marked only by the half-open curtains surrounding them. In every cubicle, there was a bed with a lump sitting in it—lumps that Bill could identify as pokémon not by sight but by smell. He caught the earthy, grassy scent of a tropius, the sour odor of a gloom, the wetness of a lombre, fur, scales, chitinous shells … and the sharpness of anesthetic. That was what all of them had in common: sharp, metallic, sterile anesthetic. It didn't take his level of genius for him to realize what that meant: that all of these pokémon had been injured. Some even badly.

But more than that, he could see faces. Eyes fixed on him. Humans sitting in silence beside each bed. It wasn't a silence of respect for their pokémon. It was an uncomfortable silence soaked with the smell of fear and anger.

"Bill, I'd like for you to meet the residents of the Fallarbor Haven," Lanette said. "Or what's left of them, anyway."

He shook his head again. "They're all…"

"Survivors of ixodida attacks, yes." With a wave of her hand, she motioned to a young man sitting beside a lombre. "Over there? That's Jaden Murdock. Six months ago, he was traveling with his best friend through the Valley of Steel when they were attacked by rock-types. He got away with a broken leg. His friend was smeared across the canyon walls."

She started walking again. Bill had no choice but to follow her, but his eyes were fixed on Jaden, on the stare of abject fear he had in his eyes.

"And over there is Lila Penn," Lanette said, motioning to a plump, elderly woman sitting beside a cut-up whiscash. "She owned a bakery in Verdanturf with her daughter. Not anymore."

They passed her cubicle. Bill glanced at Lila, then to the scratches on the back of her whiscash. The woman stood, pulling her body and a blanket over her pokémon.

Then, Lanette stopped in front of a cubicle by the door. Bill stood beside her and peered in to see a teenage boy and a young girl sitting beside a wingless tropius. The girl looked like she was only a couple years older than Raye.

"And them?" Lanette said. "Nick Stavros and his sister Annie. Came here after fire-types burned their parents alive. They were forced to watch. That's their mother's tropius on the bed. It had to have its wings amputated shortly after today's battle."

The girl rose to her feet, her wide eyes locked on Bill. "Ma'am … is that…?"

Lanette frowned. "The ixodida. Yes."

Annie gradually slipped back into her seat, her hands clasping over her chest. "O-oh."

At the same time, her brother had jumped to his own feet, his fists balled and his eyes burning. He took a single step forward before Lanette held up a hand to stop him.

"He's tame," she said. "He's Rachel's. Leave him alone."

For a few beats, Nick stared the both of them down. His mouth opened, and Bill braced himself for what the young man was about to say. But then, without a word, Nick took a seat.

Lanette turned away from him. "Thank you. May your tropius get well soon."

"Thank you, ma'am," Annie replied softly.

Bill lingered for a second, staring into Nick's eyes before he followed Lanette out of the room. As he emerged into the lobby, Bill couldn't help but feel something shift inside him—like a wriggling sense of discomfort chilling his core.

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

"I wanted you to see them and understand what we've been through," Lanette told him.

Bill stopped. "I already knew that the ixodida had done something terrible, Lanette! All I had to see to know that was you!"

She threw a glare over her shoulder at him, and Bill reached up to rub the back of his neck through his scarf.

"That came out wrong," he said quietly.

"No, it didn't," Lanette replied. "I know what you meant, and it's accurate."

She led him forward, approaching the couches. Bill tugged at his scarf nervously, feeling the collar underneath.

"Lanette."

"What?" Her voice was tired and impatient.

"Would you mind if I placed a phone call?"

"To whom?"

Bill looked to the side, glancing towards the bank of video phones. "Professor Oak. Perhaps if I let him know where we are, he can send help. He's researching the ixodida right now in a fully functioning laboratory, so—"

"Not possible."

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "What?"

"When I repaired the phone systems, I only set them up to place calls from phone to phone within town. The network cannot make outbound calls," Lanette explained. "That's why it was possible to call me, but it's impossible to call for outside help. Not that anyone would offer any. We've tried. They left us here. All of us. Even me."

At that, Bill stopped to study her. His frown deepened as her words sank into his head. He knew at once what she meant, but it took him a moment to overcome the pang that hit his heart. They left her there. The administrator of the Hoenn storage system and possibly one of the most important people in the region. And no one thought to get her out. Suddenly, it made sense that she gave up. What hope did anyone else have if even she was left there?

"Lanette … I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't you dare start," she replied. "Come on. We need to talk."

Without another word, Bill followed Lanette. As he moved closer, he noticed Nurse Joy lying on one of them, her hands curled beneath her head. Lanette sat down across from her and folded her own hands in her lap. Bill followed suit, keeping his eyes on the nurse as he sat next to Lanette.

"How long has she been working?" he asked.

"Over twelve hours. That might not seem like much to you, but she worked through our battle with the ixodida. Then she led her chansey in the OR up until a half an hour ago."

Bill swallowed. "Oh. Lanette, I'm … I'm sorry."

"For what?"

He huffed in exasperation. "Getting involved. Coming here. This has all been one right mess. It's my hope that, with your help … maybe I can fix things."

"Fix things?"

Resolving himself, Bill turned to look at Lanette with a determined glare. "Lanette, I'd like to give you permission to study me. If there's a way to separate a host from—"

Suddenly, the parasite in his chest twitched, and his entire body felt like it was on fire. Doubling over, it took all of Bill's willpower not to scream, not to cry out, not to wake the sleeping nurse in front of him or cause more trouble than he meant. But his muscles burned, the tendrils between his armor and flesh slithered, and pain threatened to cloud his thoughts.

And then, Lanette's crowbar sang out of its sheath, and the pain subsided. Bill breathed deeply and held up a hand.

"H-hold on. It's passing," he rasped. Then, swallowing hard, he forced himself to sit up. "Sorry. Adam didn't quite like that statement. I'm all right."

"No, you're not," Lanette sighed. At his side, Bill could hear the sound of Lanette's crowbar easing back into its sheath before she continued. "Separating a living host from an ixodida parasite has never been done, and given how drastic the mutations are, I highly doubt that the host would survive the ensuing shock. You aren't a ditto, Bill, and this isn't a form change. Whatever the parasite did, it's more akin to evolution, not Transform. Furthermore, I have no idea how you managed to retain your human mind—if you actually did—but I highly doubt it can be replicated in any other ixodida. So the best thing you can do is accept the fact that you're not human and wait until we can figure out what to do with you."

He looked at her for a long moment, studying her profile until she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't look at me like that," she said.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

And for another long moment, she stared back at him. Hard. Then, she took a deep breath and relaxed her face back into a neutral expression.

"I'll tell you everything I know about the ixodida," she said. "You may ask questions, and after that … do what you want with the information I'm going to give you."

Bill stiffened. "Lanette…"

Looking away from him, Lanette balled her hands into fists on her lap. "The ixodida are primarily bug-types. The parasitic form possesses only three moves—Leech Life, Harden, and Bite—and have very little capacity for growth outside of a host. As such, they travel in packs to hunt down food en masse and to find suitable host bodies. I don't know how they determine what is and isn't suitable, so please don't ask. Once a host is located, one parasite attaches to the body and begins sprouting a neural-circulatory network beneath their skin. As in, the network functions as both a nervous system and a vascular system. From this, the parasite secretes extremely volatile mutagenic toxin that rewrites a host's genetic structure and metamorphosizes them into … something like you."

"Lanette, hold on," Bill began.

Ignoring him, Lanette continued, "The process, as I understand it, is extremely painful for the host and occurs simultaneously with psychic subjugation. Thus, a host's mind is replaced with the parasite's—apparently with a few notable exceptions."

She paused to eye Bill. He settled back in his seat, shutting his mouth.

"The process is, as I've said, more akin to evolution than Transform or form change," she said. "The resulting creature is an entirely new being, complete with a secondary type added during the transitioning process. For example, judging by you, I would say you're a bug and steel-type, which will explain your extreme weakness to fire."

"Oh." Bill nodded, his voice faint. It wasn't that this was new information; he recognized his status as a steel-and-something-else pokémon the moment Manectric had used Fire Fang on him. But it was the way she said it, the matter-of-fact, detached, excruciatingly scientific way Lanette was going about this, that made Bill's heart twinge.

"However, it's also unlike evolution because only the host really changes. The parasite is still fully capable of detaching itself and finding a new host, but the process can leave one weakened and vulnerable because it involves severing its own still-functioning neural network. Still, a parasite desperate to survive will undergo the process, especially in the vicinity of an abundance of suitable hosts. This is why it's important to locate and destroy the core of every incapacitated host." She stopped to pull the collar of Bill's shirt aside, exposing the glowing jewel in his chest. "That's your core. Keep it safe if you want to live."

He rested a hand on it, and she let go and sat back.

"I see," he said. "Lanette—"

"Hosts travel in packs as well," Lanette interrupted. "Usually in groups of like types. Ground-types travel with ground-types, fire-types with fire, and so forth. This heightens their hunting and defensive abilities. Each group is divided into two types of ixodida: the drones, distinguishable by their blunt tails and low intelligence, and the monarchs, distinguishable by their arrowhead tails and high intelligence. You would be a monarch, in other words. One monarch leads the rest of the clan, although some clans may have multiple under-monarchs as well. No drone leads; they merely serve the monarchs as soldiers and hunters."

"Ah." Bill looked at the floor. "So when you said that this was…"

"Hoenn is a hive, Bill."

He looked up at her suddenly. "What?"

"The clans," she continued. "Although they hunt separately, the monarchs operate according to a central queen. I don't know where she would be, what she's capable of, or what her body structure might be like. Thus, I'm not sure if, like beedrill queens or vespiquen, she's the ixodida's primary egg-layer. All I know is this is a hive, and she exists. That's why the quarantine exists here and nowhere else. The ixodida have been coming back here like bees to their hive. Because that's what they are."

A hive. A queen. Bill's mind reeled with this implication. His head turned, moving his gaze to his lap as he processed this. That was why Lanette told him to think. He should have known. That must have been why Adam was drawn back to Hoenn—why the ixodida, in all those months that they had been on Earth, were only found in Hoenn. If his presence in the region was any indication, the ixodida could move across great distances, although he had yet to figure out how. The important thing was, they could do it, yet they never moved beyond the region's borders … because they were a hive.

"Actually," his body suddenly said, "the reason why I came here has nothing to do with the motives of my brethren."

"What?" Lanette breathed.

Shaking it off, Bill blinked. Then, he flinched and twisted in his seat to face Lanette. "Wait! It's not what you think! It's Adam. He—"

His body jerked, and he felt his mind be pulled back into his head. All around him, his muscles relaxed, and his voice rumbled in a neutral tone.

"My apologies. Had I realized you wished to speak with me, I would have subdued my host sooner," Adam said.

What?! Bill pushed his consciousness outward, seeking out Adam's mental hold on him. Adam, let me go!

"I suggest you calm yourself, Bill," Adam continued as it leaned back. "Let us think about this logically. I could have easily told you much of this information. Some of it I already have. But more importantly, this extraordinarily rational human is not fully convinced that you still exist. Therefore, why tell you all of this information if she thinks you are me? Clearly, she has been waiting for an irrefutable sign that I am in control so she may speak to me, not you."

The hold on his mind released, and Bill scrambled forward. Feeling his face again, he immediately shifted it into a curious glance towards Lanette.

"I … is that true?" he asked.

Her posture was straight and tense, and her eyes were on his shoulder, not his face. Something was wrong about this. That Bill knew. But he couldn't question her. Already, he could feel Adam tangling around his brain, prying control away from his psyche.

"It's true," Lanette said.

Bill started. "Wait! Adam, give me a moment! Lanette, please, you have to—"

And then, just like that, he was pulled backwards. His body froze for a moment before leaning away from Lanette again.

Adam, please! he begged. Please, you've got to convince her that I'm still in here!

"Go on," Adam said. "Do be quick. If you were implying what I assume you were when you said that this region of yours is a hive, you were incorrect. My kind is not psychically linked to one another. However, that does not mean it is not dangerous for me to be out for long periods of time."

"Why? Is it taxing on you?" Lanette scoffed.

"No," Adam replied casually. "For something a simple as a conversation? Not at all. But you do have a hole in your basement leading to an ixodida nest, and I would hate to alert any stragglers that a rogue exists in your midsts. You do know what a rogue is, do you?"

She scrutinized Adam with a wary glance. "No. But I can guess."

"Smart human. Now." Adam crossed its ankle over a knee. "What is it that you wished to tell me?"

Lanette laced her fingers together and rested her elbows on her thighs. Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes at Adam. "What do you know about the queen?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, parasite."

Adam held up its hands. "Lying is such an inconvenience. Do not forget, human, that we share a common enemy in the empress. That would technically make us allies."

"We are not allies."

"Oh, how you break my host's heart."

Bill mentally bristled at that comment and reached out to find Adam's grasp again. Adam, I'm warning you…

"Matters of wit aside, I do not know anything about the empress that would be of use to you," Adam said as it twirled a hand in the air. "You are very observant concerning the process of infection. Had I not known any better, I would have said that you have firsthand experience with it. But one thing you did not mention—and I doubt you would know this, seeing as you are entirely human—is that we may choose to grant our host bodies any secondary type we wish. We are not bound to a single type. Thus, our powers and abilities may vary greatly from host to host. As for me, I just so happen to enjoy being what you would call a steel-type, but I am a terrible example of my kind, as you could possibly tell."

"So you don't know what the queen is capable of because you don't know what type she chose to be," Lanette said.

"Precisely." Adam shrugged. "Nor do I know where she is or where she would nest. The empress is simply the first of my kind to infect a host in this particular colony, I'd imagine. I could not begin to tell you what the empress is like because I, quite literally, do not know who she is."

"And you say you're not a hive mind, so you haven't … felt anything."

Adam snorted. "Do you take me for a psychic-type? No, child. While I may be able to sense that she is here—and that is merely the empress's influence, not a trait of my kind as a whole—I have not sensed anything else about her. The truth is, I am just as curious as you are."

"And why is that?"

"Is it not obvious? I wish to kill her."

A cold, heavy quiet descended on the room. Lanette's eyes opened completely, and her eyebrows rose. And at the same time, Bill sat stunned in his own head. Seconds passed with neither of them moving until, at last, Bill reached forward.

What?!

His body flinched, then settled back down. Control once again slipped from his grasp as Adam waited for Lanette.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because," Adam replied, "it would dismantle the colony. Also quite obviously. Defeat the empress, defeat the colony."

"Why?"

Adam shrugged again. "I have unfinished business with Her Majesty. Suffice to say, I do not like her, so it would be appropriate for me to destroy her work."

"I thought you said you didn't know the queen."

"I was not necessarily referring to this one."

Lanette pulled herself out of her slouch and stared at Adam. "There are more colonies?"

"We are an interplanetary race. Of course there are more colonies. They are simply…" Adam waved a hand in the air again. "…Elsewhere."

She stood, and her voice lowered to a growl. "You're not bringing any more of your sociopathic friends to this planet."

"Good. Then we are in agreement." Adam tilted its head. "Now I do believe our conversation has gone on for quite some time. Do hurry it along. What is it you plan on doing now? With me, in particular?"

Lanette let out a long breath before crossing her arms. We're raiding the ixodida nest to the east of town. I assume you already know that it's entirely a ground-type unit."

Inside their head, Bill shifted. An attack? On the ixodida? His mind clawed for freedom. He had to stop Lanette, to convince her this was a bad idea. The ixodida hosts were human, after all. Victims, in other words.

Just like him.

Adam twitched in response to its host's attempt to break free. Its eyes trailed away from Lanette again. "Is that so? Do you know for certain where the main chambers of the nest are? The Sun Clan burrows, you know. They are like your durant or diglett. Their nests can be vast and difficult to map, and unless you strike the heart of the structure where the majority of the ixodida hide, you will face absolute defeat."

"We have scouts," Lanette replied. "They've located the entrances to the ixodida nest, and we plan on using all of our resources to flood them. Our forces are small, but between us, we have enough water pokémon to do the job. Just in case, we have backup grass-types and ice-types to strike any topside ixodida, and we plan on using our own ground and rock pokémon to trigger a tunnel collapse via Earthquake."

Wait, Bill thought, reaching forward again. Wait, no! You can't do that!

Inhaling deeply, Adam closed its eyes. "You seem confident in this strategy."

"I've dealt with nest raids in the past." Lanette smiled. "I led a hunting party to eradicate a nest of fire-types in Lavaridge. I can handle ground-types."

"The Flame Clan? Impressive. They are far too proud to fall without a fight." The parasite took another shuddering breath. "It seems my host is beginning to fight for control again. Tell me quickly. What is my role in this?"

Lanette frowned and sat down. "You don't have one. Although you would be valuable for your insight, I can't risk the possibility of you interfering with our raid. I still don't know whether or not I should trust you."

Adam, please! You've got to tell her—

The parasite tensed its jaw. "Astute, but how would you stop me from interfering?"

"By telling you right now that we won't be backing you up if you ran off to do battle against ixodida that can use Earthquake," Lanette replied.

Please, Adam! You can't let her do this!

"Very well." Adam uncrossed its legs, as if to punctuate the thought. "I have no desire to participate in your petty border squabbles anyway."

"Then you'll agree to stay out of it?"

No!

Adam slid its eyes open. "Certainly. I would rather prepare to leave your settlement anyway. It would be a waste of time for me to stay."

Adam, don't!

Lanette nodded slowly. "Good. I'm glad we've reached an agreement quickly then."

Adam, please, she's going to kill everyone in that colony! Or worse!

"Excellent," Adam said. "Now if you have no further business, I have just one last message to deliver."

Bill fell silent, although he still wrapped his mind around Adam's. Was it going to listen to him? Was it going to protest? To say something that will convince Lanette to rethink her plan?

Adam leaned in, peering deep into Lanette's eyes. She stared back, her eyebrows rising as she tilted her body away just slightly.

"You do not have to worry, child," it said. "Bill is still in here, alive and well." It placed a hand on its chest.

Her mouth opened slightly as her eyebrows furrowed. "You're … how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Do you want it to be true?"

She didn't answer.

"Human," Adam drawled, "I have already told you. I find lying inconvenient. I have nothing to gain from manipulating you. You are not a threat to me because you are preoccupied with the Sun Clan, and you are not a help to me because you do not know anything about the empress that I can use. It would literally be a waste of energy to lie to you at this point; I have nothing to gain from you whatsoever. So when I say Bill is still in here … I am telling you the truth. And I do so for his sake, not mine."

By that time, Adam had leaned in close, almost to the point of breathing on Lanette's face. Lanette's hand had moved, easing onto its wrist as she kept her eyes locked on her partner's. And for a long while after Adam had finished, they remained there, close but still apart.

Adam, Bill said, relaxing his grip. Thank you.

"That is not all," Adam replied. "My host asked you a question. You did not respond, but I believe I know what the answer is."

It leaned in a little more, placing its lips as close to Lanette's ear as it possibly could get.

And then, with a nearly inaudible voice, Adam whispered one last thing.

"I know what happened to your sister."

The next second was a whirl. Bill felt himself be thrown back into the forefront of his head, back into full control, while his body was shoved into the couch. He lay on his back as Lanette leapt on him. Her hand seized the handle of her crowbar, and within seconds, the point was hovering inches above his core. He threw up his arms, ready to block her as he flinched and prepared for a strike.

"That's enough!"

Both Bill and Lanette looked up to see Nurse Joy on her feet. The corners of her eyes were wrinkled, and dark bags sagged underneath them. So Bill could tell she was still exhausted, yet there she was, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Regardless of what he is, I'm not having any more fighting happening in my pokémon center. Is that clear?" she asked.

Lanette narrowed her eyes, but to Bill's surprise, she pulled herself off him without protesting. Sheathing her crowbar, she huffed.

"Fine," she said. "Stay out of our way tomorrow morning."

With that, she walked away, leaving Bill to sit in stunned silence. Looking up, he saw Nurse Joy relax.

"You're Bill, right?" she asked.

"Y-yes. I am now," he answered as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, realizing how he sounded, he added, "You don't have to worry. Adam … ah, my parasite … he's let me go for now. I swear."

"Mm." Nurse Joy crossed the space between both couches and sat down next to Bill. With gentle fingers, she touched his forehead. "Are you okay? Physically, I mean. If you'd like, I could look you over to see if—"

"No," Bill replied quickly. "That won't be necessary. I'm fine. Healing factor, remember?"

"Of course." She stood. "Can I get you anything? Food? Water?"

"No. I'm fine." He smiled nervously. "I … actually."

Nurse Joy stopped, looked at him, and waited. He lifted his chin to meet her eyes, and for a second, he studied her. She was so different from Lanette. Gentle. Patient. Yet, recalling all of the other people in the pokémon center, Bill couldn't help but notice that this was strange. Noticeable.

"May I ask you something?" he said.

"Of course."

He took a breath. "Why are you so nice to me?"

At that, Joy laughed. Not to mock the simplicity of his question but instead to take pleasure in it. "Because it's my job to be."

"No, I mean…" He glanced towards the entrance of the clinic. "The ixodida did some unspeakable things to the people and pokémon of this region. You must have seen it. So why be nice to an ixodida?"

"Because you're not an ixodida."

He raised his eyebrows at her. She only smiled at first, but then, she folded her hands in front of her and continued.

"I knew from the moment you tried to protect Rachel," she said. "You're not an ixodida. Not when it comes to your mind. You're human inside, and I think that's important."

Bill couldn't help but smile at her. "That's … rather sweet of you to say."

"It probably isn't." And at that, Joy's own grin faltered a little. "You see … it's a little selfish too. My sisters and cousins were all Nurse Joys in other cities and towns. Not all of them got out. I've heard from the survivors our party brought back that some Nurse Joys were wiped out, and others got bitten by parasites. Some even died on their way here. But it's the infected ones I worry about. And seeing you and how much you try to protect your sister, I can't help but…" She trailed off for a moment, her eyes lowering to the floor. "Is what Lanette said true? Are you unique? Or can the others…"

"I don't think so."

Joy lifted her head, and once again, their eyes met. And for the first time in the past couple of days, Bill smiled—genuinely smiled.

"I don't think I'm unique," he said. "I think that, one way or another, there may be a way for the others to break free."

"Really?" Joy asked in a soft voice.

Bill nodded. "Yes. Nurse Joy, I know I can't stay here. My parasite wants to leave, and quite honestly, I think it would be for the best if we did. But I'll look for your relatives on my travels, and if I find them, I'll talk—"

And then, it hit him. The solution. Lanette was going to go out at dawn to eradicate the ground-type ixodida, and Bill knew this would be a massacre. Either Lanette was going to kill a bunch of innocent hosts trapped within their own minds, or those hosts were going to kill her and the people of Fallarbor.

But Bill had a chance. He had the power to prevent either outcome from happening. All he had to do was…

"Talk to them," he said slowly.

Joy took a step forward. "Bill?"

Shaking his head, Bill gave her a serious glance. "Nurse Joy, is the burrow in the basement still open?"

She nodded. "Yes. What are you…?"

"May I take a bag of supplies? Just enough for myself … as a precaution."

Joy's eyes lit up with recognition. She nodded again and turned towards the clinic. "Of course. I'll gather together a first aid kit for you. But … will this work?"

Bill's smirk widened as he let his tail go. He lifted it, flicking the arrowhead tip. "Why wouldn't it? You may be right about what I am on the inside, but on the outside, I'm an ixodida too."

Wrapping her arms around herself, Joy started walking away. "All right. I trust you. Just please … talk to Rachel beforehand."

With that, she was gone, leaving Bill to think for a second in silence.

"You're rather quiet," he commented.

I am simply curious, Adam replied.

"Well then." Bill closed his eyes. "Are we unique?"

I do not know. But I do know it would be unwise to go through with your plan. My kind are not known for diplomacy, and if you appeal to their hosts, they would not appreciate that either.

"But you're not going to stop me, are you?"

No.

"Why?"

Because it would be fascinating to see what would happen. Adam forced their eyes to open. Now go. You have time. If you wish to speak with your sister, I will not interrupt you.

Once more, Bill was left alone with himself. After a few breaths, he rose to his feet. His hands curled into fists as he went over the plan that was still cooling in his mind.

Lanette's disgust. Nurse Joy's uncertainty. Adam's entertainment. Thinking about all of those voices, Bill knew that not a single one of them had any faith in the ixodida. But they were wrong. He was going to prove it.

And he was going to warn the ixodida before anyone got killed.

But first, he was going to tell Raye that he would be gone.

Not forever. Just for an hour.

So he hoped.

—

Raye's eyes opened. Already, her dream—black and suffocating and full of people made of smoke—was fading, giving way to the sound of fabric rustling somewhere in front of her.

"Nii-chan?" she murmured.

"Raye?" Bill answered. "You're awake. That's good. I need to tell you something, little one."

She sat up and squinted. Through the darkness, she could just barely make out her brother's form easing into the cubicle. There was a bag slung over his arm—a bag whose silhouette looked like one of the ones that Raye had seen more than once in the center's lost and found.

"Nii-chan, where are you going?" she asked.

He stopped. Exhaling, he turned to her, pulling himself onto the bed as he pressed his hand against the back of her head. She felt the leather of his glove as she leaned forward under his touch. They sat in silence, foreheads pressed together for a long moment.

"I have to go for a while," Bill told her.

"Why?" she said.

"Lanette is going to do something very, very bad," he explained. "I need to go fix things before she does. But don't worry. I'll be back tonight. I promise."

"No!" Raye lashed out, grabbing his arm and digging her fingers into the fabric of his shirt sleeve. "Don't go!"

"Hey! Hey!" he cooed with an awkward, startled smile. "What's all this about?"

She shook her head and pressed her face into his chest. "Don't go down there! Everyone'll get mad at you if you do! And—and … the holes … Abby showed me! The holes…!"

"Shh. It's okay, Raye. It's okay," he said lightly as he wrapped his arms around her in a loose embrace. "The ixodida are nothing to worry about. I'm going to talk to them and convince them that we can be friends. Besides, if they try to hurt me, I've got powers, remember? I learned a new attack too. It lets me move faster than other ixodida. I'll show you when I get back, okay?"

Raye sniffled and pulled away. "But Lanette…"

Bill's smile faded a little. "Hah. Let me worry about her." He moved his hands to her shoulder and leaned close. "Now, Raye. Do me a big favor. Stay here where it's safe, okay? I swear, I won't take long."

"You're not coming back," she told him.

"Hey! No! Don't think like that!" He hooked his finger and pressed it against the underside of her chin until he could look her in the eyes. "I'll be back. Tell you what. Just to convince you, I'll swear on Ho-oh's wings." Leaning back, he pulled his hand away and folded each finger down except for his smallest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Raye drew her shoulders up. "Spit a fire in your eye?"

"Exactly." Bill smirked. "I'll come back."

With some hesitation, Raye curled her littlest finger around her brother's. He swept her into his arms for one last hug, one she didn't return. Then, she couldn't feel him anymore. She could only hear him: the rustling of the curtains, the heaviness of his footfalls, the fading away of his presence down the hallway beyond the cubicles. It was only when she could no longer hear his footsteps that she reached for the bedside table. Her fingers clasped one of the poké balls on its top—a poké ball that looked different from the others. Her thumb brushed over the copper etchings on its metallic surface, tracing the lace and stylized beautifly on one of its hemispheres.

"You said that the last time too," she murmured.

—

Frankly, Domino was pissed, and in her opinion, she had every right to be. The ginger witch, as she liked to refer to the woman she met in the pokémon center's basement, stole everything from her while she was out. Tulip darts, baton, smoke balls—even the pokémon she lifted from the center. The only thing that she hadn't stolen was the handheld computer Professor Nettle had given her, and that was about as useful to her as a team of blind magikarp. As she stood in the shadowy safety of an alleyway, she examined the screen. The red dot that marked Codename Adam shifted, moving out of Fallarbor's pokémon center and heading east.

Domino gritted her teeth. If he left town, he was as good as gone. How could she possibly take him down without weapons? McKenzie was too smart to be tricked. Easy to manipulate emotionally, sure, but Domino didn't have the right leverage to do it. And anyway, emotional manipulation risked bringing something else to the surface.

She shuddered. The memory of the creature's cold glare still chilled her to the core. Domino remembered the way it looked at her—coldly, as if she meant nothing. She remembered the way a golden aura erupted around it. She could picture oh-so clearly the way its fingers seized the wall in front of it and the way the balls of light in its palms exploded in fantastic brilliance. The creature was fierce. Unstoppable. It easily cut through Zager's technology. Zager's supposedly infallible technology.

And then, she remembered how it stood over her. Silent and expressionless, yet … cold. Very, very cold. She had knelt at its feet—unintentionally due to the force of the blast. She hadn't even realized she had done so, but there she had been, looking up at its blank face. And then, after it had stared at her for several of the longest seconds Domino could recall, it had leaned down to murmur something in her ear.

Domino didn't think she would ever forget what it had told her that day.

"Only the weak bow to an enemy."

This was the first time Domino remembered panicking on a mission. There was a reason for that. Panic led to clouded judgment. Clouded judgment led to hasty decisions. And hasty decisions made for hazy memories and a vague sense that something went horribly wrong.

Here was what Domino remembered. She had screamed. She had thrown one of her tulips at the creature, and it must have hit because she recalled that there had been light. Brilliant light. Light from hundreds of volts of electricity coursing through the air into her target. But at the same time, she remembered seeing it standing there, as if nothing had happened. There must have been a time gap somewhere, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember where it was—or whether or not her attack was real. What she did remember was the sight of the creature blowing a hole through the airship's hull somehow. It had stumbled out after that, dropping into the atmosphere like a gold-glowing lead brick. Had it been hurt? Was that why it didn't try to blow up the trap she set up in the pokémon center's basement? She wondered about that. The cube was set at a stronger frequency that time, sure, but it was as if the creature hadn't even tried to escape. It was just bizarre to Domino. All of it was bizarre.

Scary even.

Because that thing could think, and if it could think, then…

She shook her head. No. She didn't know what was going on in that monster's head, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she had let it get away, and because of that, her status as one of Team Rocket's top agents was in jeopardy. And now? Now her chances of rectifying that were literally running out of the city.

She scowled straight ahead at the brick wall on the other side of the alley. This was all McKenzie's fault. If he hadn't been stupid enough to run out with Joel Anderson, then only one ixodida would have been created, and none of this would have happened. She repeated that to herself mentally. This was all McKenzie's fault, and the thought of him paying for it became a comfort.

Domino stalked out of the alley. She didn't get much further than that. Out in the open of Fallarbor's main drag, the flash of something orange caught her eye. Several yards in front of Domino, half-turned and looking away from her, was the ginger witch herself. Her red hair caught the moonlight as it settled around her, and that was what Domino had seen. The witch must have been startled by something, but the Rocket, already smiling, didn't care. All this distraction meant was that Domino could jump the witch and get her arsenal back.

What Domino did instead was take two more steps into the open and freeze. Her eyes met those of the creature that had caught the witch's attention: a white, dog-like thing several blocks ahead of her. The absol's ruby-red eyes stared them both down until, at last, it turned and bounded away.

To the east, Domino realized. The creature was heading east.

This must have meant something to the witch because she turned and cast a look of fury to the sky. Domino swiftly retreated back into the alley but kept her eyes on the witch in fascination. The woman wrenched a phone from a pouch on her belt and rapidly keyed a number into it. Bringing it to her ear, she only waited seconds before she spoke.

"Officer Jenny, get Nurse Joy and Thom Wattson. Have Joy check the clinic for the ixodida and send Wattson to keep an eye on Raye. Then gather the hunting party and prepare to move out within the hour." She looked to the east. "Raye's absol is out. This likely means the ixodida escaped, and if that's the case, then I have no doubt he's about to screw us all over."

She waited for another second. After that second, she pulled the phone away from her ear and jammed her thumb into the call end button. Her free hand reached up to draw her crowbar, and as it sang against the sheath on her back, she turned completely to the east.

"That idiot," she growled.

Domino took her eyes off the witch and smirked. She honestly couldn't blame her. Still, this put a rather nasty dampener on her plans to retrieve her gear, but on the other hand, knowing that they had a common irritant allowed an idea to take root in her mind. She leaned against the alley wall again and closed her eyes to piece together a plan.

But then, seconds later, she snapped them open again as a chill ran down her spine. Shuddering, she suppressed the mental image of Codename Adam's eyes and peered around the corner, back into the main drag. Empty. Looking around the alley, she noted that all she could see were shadows and darkened windows. Empty too. There was no one there. Not the witch. Not the people of Fallarbor. No one.

So why did she feel like she was being watched?

—

In laboratory G, John's phone rang. He fixed his jaw, steeling himself as he watched Codename Abel electrocute another gardevoir. Part of him wished it was Adam beyond the window and not the electric-type. At least Adam would have been easier to reason with.

But Codename Adam came with its own problems, and that, John knew, was why he was being called on what was supposed to be a secure phone line.

At last, he drew the phone from his lab coat's pocket and brought it to his ear.

"Give me good news," he said gruffly.

"Councilor One? This is Agent Kaph reporting on behalf of Three," a woman's voice stated. "We've got good news from the field."

"Good news?"

"It's about Codename Adam, sir."

"Oh." John rubbed his eyes. "Trying news, then. Fine. Go on. What's the boy gotten into now?"

"Four's forces have been tracking him. Apparently, he's in Fallarbor."

"We know that, and we didn't even need the tracking device to do it. Of course he'd be in Fallarbor. He's fond of a girl there. Doesn't fancy her, of course, because God forbid I'll ever get grandchildren who'll carry on my family name. Pardon me for saying that."

"Yeah, well, fancy or not—" She practically spat those few words. "—he's almost to the edge of town. He'll be crossing paths with an active ixodida nest in approximately thirty-four minutes."

John frowned. The boy always found a way to make things complicated. "Which of our backups is closest to his location?"

"Thomas Wattson, sir. He's already made contact with Adam."

"Wonderful. Send him out."

"Already gave him a standby order, per Three's instructions, sir."

"Then why are you calling me?"

"Because Wattson called me. Our friend from Team Rocket's been spotted in Fallarbor too."

"The Tulip."

"Yes, sir. And that falls squarely within Three's jurisdiction, as opposed to Four's. Permission to initiate the trigger clause of the Yeled Protocol?"

John pursed his lips. The Black Tulip. The woman responsible for half this mess. John clenched his teeth and straightened his back. He swallowed his rage slowly.

"Sir?" C asked.

"No," he said. "Leave her be."

"But sir!"

"We need her to recapture Adam. Then we can extract him safely from the region … or deal with him on the field. Depends on what he's trying to do. I'm sure it'll be interesting to find out, wouldn't it, Agent Kaph?"

"Sir, do you think that's wise?"

"Why not?" John asked. "We could use the help."

"You know that's not what I mean. Is it wise to expose our entire operation to a civilian?"

"What, Bill? Hah." John smiled toothily into the phone. "'S about time he learned about the real family trade, isn't it, love?"

"Hm." Agent Kaph's professional tone quickly dissolved into an annoyed purr. "And here I was hoping he'd have a quiet life. Comparatively speaking, anyway. This isn't affecting my inheritance, is it?"

"No, but that cheek might." John inclined his head as his eyes fell on something in the window. His smile faltered until it dipped into a frown, and when it did, he added, "Keep an eye on him, Kaph. D.E.V.A. needs him in one piece."

"Understood, sir. Over and out." And then, she was gone.

With that, John hung up and pocketed his phone. He stared straight at the window—or, rather, at the reflection in it. Through that and the brilliant flash of Abel's Thunderbolt, John could clearly see Professor Oak standing behind him.

"Professor McKenzie," he said calmly, "mind telling me what's going on here?"

John flashed Oak a wide grin, and without skipping a beat, he replied, "Certainly, Sam. But I'm gonna need your help in return."