Author's Note:
Shout-out as always to Doreh for the awesome review! Speaking of, I'm slowly getting around to responding to all of the ones I'd received for the past couple of chapters, and I'm up to the ones for chapter fifteen. Some of you will receive your responses via PM as well as the sideblog, just 'cause y'all are new, so! In the meantime, I just wanna say that if you have questions or anything, don't hesitate to ask! 8D It thrills me to see people asking. It means you thought about this fic enough to ask, and in any case, it's always amusing to see how close some askers get. This of course doesn't mean that you have to ask if you don't have questions; it just means that if you do, don't feel uncomfortable! I love hearing from you~!

Also, welcome to the ~new content~! This is all-new, never-posted-to-Serebii content, ripe for you to enjoy! In other words, PREPARE YOURSELVES BECAUSE HERE WE GO.

Seventeen

D.E.V.A. CLEARANCE LEVEL 10
CLEARANCE ACCEPTED.
DOCUMENT TYPE: CORRESPONDENCE
DESIGNATION: N/A
DESCRIPTION: TRANSCRIPT OF AUDIO RECORDING—VIDEO CONFERENCE BETWEEN C-01 AND C-02. MARKED FOR DESTRUCTION PENDING ARCHIVAL OF DOCUMENTS PERTAINING TO THE ADAM INCIDENT.
DATE-TIME: [ERROR]

C-01
Ah! Nice of you to remember us, Two. It's been awhile, hasn't it?

C-02
My apologies. Dealings with the Association have become quite complicated as of recent, as I am sure you understand.

C-01
That's a fancy way of saying Earth made a mess of things again, isn't it?

C-02
I would put it more delicately.

C-01
Of course you would. In any case, what brings you out of hiding?

C-02
I was curious.

C-01
About?

C-02
As I understand it, you are seeking to experiment with one of the ixodida, are you not?

C-01
Yes, that's right. Codename Abel. We haven't made headway yet, but we'll be trying everything we can to crack him.

C-02
Why?

C-01
Why not? Seems like a good idea, right?

C-02
There is no reason why you need to do this.

C-01
Actually, as of now, there's plenty of reason. How's the recovery going?

C-02
Slowly, I am afraid. The Association is fully aware of the urgency in your request, but our attention has been turned to far more hostile planets. The war against the ixodida has not been an easy one for any of us.

C-01
Ha. Name me one planet it's been easy for. But you know it makes my job rather complicated, right?

C-02
My apologies, Councillor One. It is my greatest regret, on behalf of the Association, that we were not successful in obtaining Princess Angra's research prior to the destruction of Nila. Had we known that the ixodida were capable of using our technology and the blast to distribute themselves throughout the galaxy, then we would have been far more careful in our efforts.

C-01
Ah, you did what you had to do. I would've done the same thing. It's why I like you lot.

C-02
You would have destroyed an entire planet and everyone on it?

C-01
Why not? It's not as if the human race was already well on its way to doing that already. When everything's said and done, Two, let me take you out for a drink and tell you about the Great War. And Team Rocket. And, well. The entire history of our race.

[PAUSE. DURATION: 6 SECONDS.]

C-01
Come to think of it, why the hell did you think we're a noble, intelligent race worth inducting into your space club?

C-02
By comparison with races such as Rohn'oke—

C-01
Oh. Say no more.

C-02
Indeed. You have not answered my question.

C-01
What? About Abel? It's obvious, isn't it? I'm breaking him in to see if we can make a rogue.

C-02
Rogues are mistakes, Councillor One. You cannot make one.

C-01
Watch me.

[PAUSE. DURATION: 30 SECONDS.]

C-02
Understood. What will you do with him once you create this rogue?

C-01
Send him out to have a chat with my son. You know he's infected, yeah?

C-02
So I have been told. I apologize.

C-01
For what? It's only a problem if William messes up our plans. Which he most certainly will, knowing him. Sometimes, I wish he didn't take after me. He wouldn't have grown up to be as much of a pain in the [EXPLETIVE] if he took after Riko. You know how much red tape he creates in a single year? Go on. Guess. Here's a hint: he drove the last Councillor Two into early retirement.

[PAUSE. DURATION: 4 SECONDS.]

C-01
Of course, I was proud of him for that at the time, but that's beside the point right now.

C-02
Should we be concerned?

C-01
Nah. Unless you don't like paperwork. You do like paperwork, right? You're with that big space congress, so I'd imagine your politics and red tape's even more ridiculous than ours, so—

C-02
I apologize, Councillor One. I was not clear in my question. Will Codename Adam disrupt our plans?

C-01
Oh. Well, I said yes, didn't I? That's the problem with my lad. Always sticks his nose in things he shouldn't. And what's worse, according to the records and Agent Kaph's account, he's a steel-type. Because of course he'd be a steel-type.

C-02
Oh. I see.

C-01
So you see why I need Abel, right? Of course, I could probably catch any old ixodida and do the same thing. Hell, I could even use the other one if I really wanted to. But Abel's the only one we've been able to keep from running off to Hoenn, and the other one's obviously an absolute last resort, so I'm taking what I can get.

C-02
I wish you luck.

C-01
Thanks. So far, Abel's killed off at least thirty assistants, so I'm going to need it. Granted, most of those assistants were actually Team Rocket's fodder, so it all balances out in the end.

C-02
I see. May I ask another question?

C-01
Eh. Why not? You're probably disappearing for another six months, so we might as well get all the loose ends tied up.

C-02
I wish to speak with Codename Adam.

[PAUSE. DURATION: SIXTEEN SECONDS.]

C-01
You lot have a funny definition of the word "question."

C-02
Although you seem calm about Codename Adam, the likelihood of the situation on Earth escalating is significant enough to be a concern to the Association. Therefore, I wish to approach Codename Adam as the Association's ambassador in order to ensure a satisfactory resolution.

C-01
Well, that'd be up to your people, wouldn't it?

C-02
As the Association's ambassador during a time of war, it is within my power to make diplomatic trips to forge peace without prior consultation of the Galactic Council.

C-01
Must be nice to be the king, isn't it?

C-02
I do not understand.

C-01
Never mind. Fine. Request approved and all that. I'll arrange for the place and the time and the men you'd need to get you back out if things turn messy. One question, though. You think you'll actually get down here in time?

C-02
One can only hope.

[PAUSE. DURATION: EIGHT SECONDS.]

C-01
Eh. Close enough. Good doing business with you, Two.

—

For a few seconds, Bill could feel nothing, see nothing. Then, slowly, he felt himself press against something soft. Opening his eyes, he found himself lying on a nest of silk pillows right where he started: in Adam's tent, atop its mountain of drawers. He turned his head to see his partner sitting calmly beside the hookah, the pipe already in its mouth.

"You … you don't know?" Bill asked. "What do you mean? How could you not know what happened?"

"I do not know," Adam repeated. Its teeth clenched tightly against the mouthpiece as it spoke. "I was on the planet the moment it was destroyed, Bill. All I know is that it was destroyed. I have a theory, though."

"Which is?"

"The Intergalactic Association interfered," Adam said. "Although the rest of the galaxy was not and is still not as advanced as the Relian Empire, planet-destroying weaponry is not beyond the collective abilities of the Association. It is entirely possible, given that Angra had never made her plans a secret to anyone once she ascended the throne, that the Intergalactic Association opted to stop her thoroughly before she could leave Avani. What better way to do that than to destroy our world?"

Adam removed the hookah's mouthpiece from its jaws and stared steadily at its host. "All I know is that our original hosts were annihilated. The only other thing I could tell you is that we rode broken fragments of Avani across the galaxy. I cannot tell you how. I do not remember."

Bill sat up. Something about this entire story nagged at his mind—other than the very cause of it, anyway. With how grand and long Adam's retelling of the downfall of Avani was, this ending felt odd … almost anticlimactic. So he furrowed his eyebrows at his partner and said, "That's it?"

"Try not to sound so disappointed," Adam hissed. "Unfortunately, Bill, I am a symbiont. My knowledge is quite limited in all regards thanks to my need for a host. The destruction of Avani brought about the utter annihilation of any eyes I could use, so unfortunately, I cannot know what happened to our world at this point." It pulled the hookah's mouthpiece back into its jaws, and its fangs clicked against the plastic in irritation. "Obviously."

"I suppose so," Bill replied slowly. Then, he bowed his head. "I suppose it can't be helped."

"Glad we agree, then," Adam said. "It is not important, in any case. What is would be the answer to the last relevant question you asked. What we want is simple. The actions of the Relians destroyed our world, and now we have no home—and no seat of power. Thus, there are two factions. One wants a new world for themselves, a world on which they may fulfill the purpose they were created to pursue, and the other is us."

"Us," Bill repeated with a slow nod. "I should've known the ixodida would be after something so simple, but I never thought … Adam, may I ask one last question?"

"I imagine you would have plenty, so yes."

Bill lifted his chin and leaned towards his symbiont. "Why tell me this now? Why couldn't you tell me earlier?"

"Either it was not the time or I did not have time," Adam told him simply.

At that, Bill sighed in heavy exasperation. "And you have time now? Might I remind you that we're far away from any form of safety?"

"On the contrary." Adam pulled the hookah's mouthpiece away from its face and glanced at Bill from out of the corner of its eye. "We are now safer than ever before. The humans have annihilated the Sun Clan, the empress has yet to discover our specific location, and we are far out of reach of your dear friend Lanette. Besides, as I have told you, you will need to understand the past if you hope to have a future." It clicked its teeth against the hookah's mouthpiece once more. "So tell me, Bill. What have you learned?"

"That the whole lot of Relians are just as ridiculous as humans," Bill spat. He swept a hand out to the side to highlight his irritation. "That's all this comes down to? You invaded my world because of one person's absolutely horrifying idea of parenting?"

"You should be furious," Adam responded.

"I can't even begin to describe how furious I am," Bill answered.

"Furious enough to take on the empress?"

Bill looked away. "I'm not even angry at her."

Adam scoffed. "And why is that?"

In response, Bill shrugged and let his shoulders sag. "I don't know. I've never been this angry before."

"You simply do not want to face your anger," Adam told him. "Do not be afraid of it."

"I thought you said raw anger would only hurt me here."

"Raw anger? Yes." Adam waved a hand in the air, as if to dispel the thought. "But controlled anger? No. You must be a master of your emotions. You cannot let them control you. And to achieve the former, you must face your humanity. You must feel and understand what it is that makes you so angry."

Bill shot Adam another glare. "Are you serious? Do I even have to say why I'm so angry right now?"

"Yes. Clearly, you do not wish to articulate it; thus, you cannot act on it. Putting it into words will allow you to seize it. You should understand this. You are a scientist, after all."

"You keep going back to that."

"It is true, is it not?" Adam asked. "Your skills are not entirely worthless here."

"Thank you for the compliment," Bill replied, his voice low and far more sarcastic than it had been at any other moment he could recall in his life.

"It was." Adam reached over to touch Bill's shoulder lightly. "Now tell me. Why are you so angry?"

Bill huffed and let his shoulders sag a little more, although this was in part to escape Adam's touch. "I … it's everything. The ixodida invading, you turning me into this … this thing. I don't have control. Normally, I can handle not having control. I know that life doesn't always work out the way you want it to, but this is too much. This is a war, Adam, and I'm not at all comfortable with the fact that I don't have a choice in anything here." Pausing, he exhaled and bent over. "And now you're telling me that it's all because of one person. One blasted, stupid person…" He trailed off and rested his hands on his knees. Even attempting to put his thoughts into words proved more difficult than he anticipated, if only because he felt as if he couldn't hold onto a single concept for too long. His head ached with how much emotion burned within it.

"That is not really everything, is it, Bill?" Adam asked. Then, mimicking his voice, it hissed, "'One blasted, stupid person.' One would think that your anger was more … specific. Could it be that the story of our world strikes too close to your heart?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bill replied bluntly.

"No … I believe you do." Adam sat back, reaching for the pipe again. "You are not the only one who has had no choice in the matter. How do you think Angra felt? Or Ahura? Both raised by an ambitious father to fulfill two different, very specific purposes, except only one of them would follow in his footsteps. You know how that feels, do you not?"

"If I didn't think I would be thrown off these steps again, I would do something unspeakably violent to you."

Adam raised its eyebrows. "Ah. A visceral reaction, yet one you are not acting on. At last, you are learning how to control your anger." On its last words, Adam's tone turned bland and flat, even more so than usual. It drew the pipe to its mouth and waited for another reaction.

At the same time, Bill laughed and shook his head, pressing the heel of one hand into the side of his face. "I'm just a toy to you."

"No. A fascination."

"Well. Let me be a disappointment then." Bill's frown returned, and he stared straight ahead. "Anyone can see what you're getting at, but no, that's irrelevant. Do you know what the difference between Angra and me is? I don't hate my father. In all the time you've been in my head, how many times have I even thought about him? I hated him once, and yes, part of that might have shaped who I am now, but hating him would let him win. I'm better than that."

"Yet it was the part of my story where I told you about the emperor that angered you the most," Adam said. "You grew angrier than I had ever seen you, except perhaps the times I attempted to take your sister's life."

"Because I hate stupidity," Bill snapped. It didn't feel right, being that angry. He wasn't used to it. In all the times he ever found himself wanting to snap, he had turned his energies towards something else. Anger wasn't productive. Yet right then he was stuck—stuck in his head, with the parasite. He couldn't do anything but listen to that single voice telling him to be angry.

So he was. He was furious. Extremely furious, and he couldn't fully articulate why. And because he couldn't articulate why, he became frustrated, and because he was frustrated, he became angrier. It was a cycle, the exact kind of cycle Bill couldn't stand.

But … it wasn't Adam he was angry about.

At last, Adam said, "You know that is not true. That you hate stupidity."

Bill threw his hands in the air. "What do you want me to say?! That I sympathize for Angra? That I hate the way her father treated her? That she reminds me of myself, years ago when I was frustrated and immature? Because yes and no, Adam. Yes, I feel sorry for Angra, and yes, I think it's terrible the way her father treated her. But no, she isn't me. You can't make me feel something that I've spent half my life getting over. Let me say it again. I. Am. Better. Than. That. What you're trying to dig up is an old, very healed wound, Adam. There's nothing there."

"Then what makes you angry?"

"You!" Bill took a breath. "And the ixodida. Why did you have to come here?"

Adam put the pipe back in its mouth. "Are you angry that we took away your life?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

Bill huffed. "What do you mean 'why'?! Why wouldn't I be?! Everything was perfect up until now! And in any case, that's only half of it. The other half is the fact that the Relians, for all their apparent wisdom, still weren't mature enough to handle themselves."

"Why is that relevant to you?"

"Because you invaded my planet, and I quite like living here," Bill answered. "What more do you want from me?"

Adam tilted its head. "I want you to be angry."

A silence lapsed. To Bill, the air felt heavy and cold with the weight of that sentence, and as that icy feeling flowed over him, his expression flicked from one of frustration to one of annoyed incredulousness.

"What?" he said. "Why on Earth would you want me to do that?!"

"Yesterday, after we made our first kill, you attacked me. Twice," Adam explained. "The first time was unremarkable. Primeval rage. Completely and disappointingly mundane. But the second? You attacked me with focused hatred. You knew exactly what you wanted to do to me, and your entire self was dedicated to that single goal. It was a work of poetry, Bill. Your emotions did not control you. You controlled them. That was the single most civilized act I have ever seen from you. It was almost even … Relian in nature. I wished to know what would trigger that moment again."

"That's all this was?" Bill felt his face twist again. "Just some sort of experiment to you?"

"What can I say? I am a scientist at heart." It leaned in, back towards its host. "But Bill. It is vital for you to know how to achieve that level of clarity. You must understand what you are dealing with here. This entire war … it is not about you or your ideals. It is not about right or wrong. It is about injustice."

Bill narrowed his eyes. "What's the difference?"

At that, Adam retreated, leaning back in its seat until it reached a comfortable recline. "One is petty and naïve, and the other is truth. Right and wrong … that is like a wound. You cannot rely on something so subjective to make a judgment. What you consider a scratch or an ends to a means, another may find to be fatal. But injustice … that is like a scar. The things that were done to you as a child—you do not think of them anymore because you believed them to be wrong, but paradoxically, you also believe it to be wrong to dwell on them. Yet you feel them—you live with them—because they will always be a part of you. It is senseless to be angry over right and wrong, Bill, but to be angry over being wronged is to live. The war on our home planet taught me that. And now I pass that lesson to you. Be angry."

"Oh, believe me, Adam. I'm positively furious."

"Furious enough to approach the empress, perhaps?"

"What good will that do?" Bill asked. "What, will defeating the empress fix everything the emperor had done? Will the ixodida stand down and go find their own world to live on, and will I get to be left alone?"

"To all of the above … yes."

For a few seconds, Bill stared at Adam, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Then, he huffed once more. "And you call me naïve. You can't fix what's already done, Adam. I don't see how fighting against the victims in this case will solve anyone's problems."

"On the contrary." Adam paused to suck on the end of the pipe again. Through purple smoke, the symbiont said, "You wish to be left alone, and you want my kind to find their own planet to live on. Yet we will not leave until you convince us to do so, but we are, within our cores, beings engineered for war. As such, we will not be convinced to leave until you defeat us in battle. And while you cannot fix the emperor's mistakes themselves, you can at least fix what they mean for your planet. It is the false empress's forces that infest this world, after all."

For a moment after that, Bill was silent. He broke eye contact with Adam, turning his head slowly as he exhaled a long breath. It wasn't that Adam was right. Bill already understood that the only form of diplomacy that interested the ixodida involved throwing the messenger of peace off a cliff. But the problem was he didn't want to admit Adam was right. Not about this.

Not about anything.

And that's what stung the most. That from the moment Bill opened his eyes and found himself back in the tent, Adam was right about everything. And now it was right about the fact that the only way to fix things was to face them.

"As convoluted as that is, I suppose I see your point." Bill shut his eyes. "Considering the fact that peaceful negotiations got me thrown into a volcano, perhaps you're right. Maybe I do need to do something productive with my anger, and given that the emperor isn't available…"

Adam drew the pipe away from its mouth and gazed at its host intently. "Yes?"

"I suppose I'll have to settle for the next best thing."

"Which is?"

Bill opened his eyes and shot a glare back at his symbiont. "Angra's forces. I suppose if it gets her claws off my bloody planet, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Yes. It will," Adam told him. "What I said concerning my kind's thirst for war and glory does not exclude the empress. In fact, she more than any other will be affected by that need to fight, and she more than any other will take defeat as the deepest possible humiliation. Thus, defeat will drive her from the throne and leave us to decide the fate of my kind."

"And she won't attempt to reclaim it? The throne, I mean."

"I assure you she will not. We may do horrendous things in the name of what we consider to be glory, but we still have our own code of honor to maintain."

Bill frowned. "I'll trust you on that."

"Then I suppose you will be able to formulate a plan, now that I have armed you with knowledge and control?" Adam asked.

At that, Bill opened his eyes and looked at his partner. "Formulate a plan?"

"Yes, of course."

"Why me? Why not you?"

"Because you of all people are equipped to know what to do," Adam explained. "I, meanwhile, think too much like an advisor for war. It is my natural instinct to take the most aggressive option. You, on the other hand, were born for neither peace nor war. Your instinct will be to find the most passive options, and in our situation, that perhaps will allow us to reach the empress with fewer incidents."

"Yes, but…" Bill trailed off.

"Surely you cannot still be hesitating at the thought of acting like a soldier."

"I'm not arguing that for once," he answered. "What I'm saying is there has to be something else you can give me here. I want to help, Adam. Believe me. I see your point, and I'm absolutely ready. But I don't have experience in battle plans, and you do. What do you expect me to do?"

Adam's eyes glinted as it returned Bill's glance. "What you do best, of course. Your inexperience in battle strategy is only an advantage; it means you will be less likely to think of them and therefore less predictable to our enemy. Do you think that creatures engineered by a species capable of ridiculous and trite decisions would see anything unconventional coming?"

"Unconventional." Bill stopped for a few seconds, and then, shaking his head, he laughed. "Adam, as fascinating as I find your species, don't take this as a compliment because I know it would go to your head. But for the record I don't find you capable of trite decisions. Ridiculous ones, perhaps, but even those end up being intelligent ones."

"That would be because I had the fortune of coming in contact with unique hosts," Adam responded. "Had the old emperor not made an impressively atrocious decision with regards to his daughters, my host would have been a great individual. A powerful intellectual and one of the sharpest scientists of their time. You would have enjoyed their company."

Bill grinned—genuinely grinned. Not too long ago, the thought of having a pleasant conversation with his parasite would have made him thoroughly uncomfortable, but now? Now he felt strangely in tune with it, like they were finally communicating on the same wavelength.

"I'm certain I would have," he said. "It's a shame they're all dead."

"Indeed," Adam said. "The political mess the emperor had created was a waste of their talents. I did my best to work towards a solution with the combined skills of my host and yours sincerely, but obviously, our best was not enough." It tapped the mouthpiece with a finger. "But no matter. What will you do, now that you know our story and why I told it to you?"

"I don't know," Bill admitted. "I'll think of something."

"Good." Adam set aside the pipe. "Then I should equip you with one last piece of information to prepare you for our fight. I had promised that I would tell you of certain side effects of our fusion."

"Oh." Bill shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had forgotten about that completely, but now that Adam had reminded him, his chest felt tight. The idea that something inside him might have been changed certainly didn't sit well with him, and although as a scientist, he was more than a little curious, part of him was afraid to know how different he had become. "Right. That."

"Yes," Adam said. "Do not worry. Your soul will still be the same. Your willpower is impressive, Bill. I highly doubt touching my mind will have affected your personality. However, because we have pooled our basic knowledge and abilities, it was inevitable that your arsenal of skills has … changed."

"Adam, please," Bill groaned. "The more straightforward you are, the better I can understand you."

"All right," it responded. "First and foremost, I must warn you. I now have a full map of your mind."

Bill tensed. "…Meaning?"

"Meaning it is now easier for me to take over your body than it had been."

Any pleasantness of their encounter dissolved instantly, and Bill twisted in his seat to face his partner. "What?! Really?!"

Adam fiddled with the mouthpiece, keeping its eyes trained straight ahead. "Calm yourself. Just because it is easier does not mean that I will take advantage of that. You will still retain dominance over this body. In fact, to assist you in developing that plan of yours, I will be stepping back. You will be responsible for battling for us, for hunting for us, and for maintaining our survival in general. I may support you as I had today in extreme emergencies, but if you wish to have any hope in mastering our abilities, you will need to use them yourself. Understood?"

"I'm honestly not sure whether or not I should be relieved by any part of that statement right now."

The symbiont snickered. "You should be relieved. From now on, you will be experiencing pokémon battles from the pokémon's point of view."

Bill rested his chin on his hand. "I already have. And in an ideal world, I'd avoid doing so again, but we've already established that's not a possibility."

"Exactly."

"Of course." Bill smirked again. "All right. What else do I have to expect?"

"Second, the benefit I have just explained to you goes both ways," Adam continued. "Just as I have a full map of your mind, you may have a full map of mine. I cannot say for certain what this means for you, as your species is not designed to be symbiotic in our sense, but I can say that you will find that unlocking our powers will come far, far easier for you. Some have even been unlocked inadvertently already. You must discover these powers quickly and train with them so that you may master our more advanced techniques before facing the empress. More importantly, do not be afraid from this point forward. Our powers are tools. They exist to help us, not hurt us."

The moment Adam had mentioned that more of their powers had been unlocked to him, Bill shifted his glance downward to examine one of his hands. He flexed his fingers, honing his concentration on them in an effort to feel his real ones, the ones outside this dreamscape. It was odd to him, but he didn't feel any different. He didn't feel any more powerful, yet according to Adam, he now had more power than he had ever possessed in his entire life. Curling his fingers into a fist, he realized just how difficult training would be. After all, how could he hone his skills in something he couldn't detect within himself?

"Right," he said as soon as Adam had finished. "Right. Train and don't be afraid of our abilities. I can do that."

"Lastly, and perhaps the one that will answer the most immediate questions upon your awakening, you must know that among the powers unlocked to you now is the ability to understand pokémon."

Bill lifted his head. "I'm sorry. What?"

"You heard me."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean it makes sense." Bill shook his head. "What do you mean I can understand pokémon?"

"Why not? We ixodida are pokémon ourselves." Adam paused. "Technically. Moreover, the Relians and the members of the Intergalactic Association have developed an understanding of practically all the languages of the beings they have taken an interest in. As I might have mentioned earlier, both sides have been interested in Earth for a long time."

"You haven't mentioned that," Bill said.

"Well. Now you know," Adam answered with a shrug. "The point is, that will answer the first question that you will likely have in a moment, assuming that absol is still there."

"In a moment?" Bill repeated. "What do you—"

Adam shot Bill one last glance.

—

Bill awoke abruptly, eyes wide and staring straight ahead at the gray lump directly in front of him. It took another second for him to register what that lump was, and as soon as it did, he scrambled back, claws scraping the rocky earth. His chest heaved in sharp, quick breaths as he cast a glance around himself in a desperate attempt to understand where he was. Slowly but surely, his thoughts settled back down in his mind until they clicked together into a coherent picture.

"R-right," he murmured as he gripped his head. "That's right. I flew here. Then … then an absol dropped … that here, and … and…" He let go of his head and cast another look at the thin brush and empty cliffs around him. "The absol! Where's the absol?" Glancing back down at his chest, Bill reached up to tap the jewel under his shirt. "Adam?"

It would be a waste of time to ask me. I know as much as you do on the matter. But you might as well do as she said.

"Do as she…?" Bill furrowed his eyebrows and rested his hand back on his head again. "What did she say?"

Bill shut his eyes and reached into his memory, sifting through the last free-floating fragments for a clue. He could feel Adam's presence just at the edge, like someone standing on the other side of a windowpane, watching. But then, Adam reached through, its worm-like tentacles throbbing ice-cold against Bill's brain. He sucked in a breath, right up until a single knot of tendrils flared up against his frontal lobe. Then he shouted, clutching his forehead with one hand. His vision swam, and his ears began to ring. Shuddering, he bent over until he pressed his head against the ground, and then he remembered.

"Eat. You will feel better."

The pain subsided in a rush, leaving Bill panting and trembling. His brain felt as if it was doused in ice, and he swallowed hard at the nausea induced by that clammy sensation. Slowly, the fog lifted from his mind, and he began to turn the words over in his head. When he found the strength, his lips began to move, and his voice sputtered out from his throat.

"E-eat. I'll … I'll feel better. Eat. … Eat what?"

He stopped. Stopped dead where he was, arms wrapped around himself, head to the ground, eyes widening in realization.

"Oh. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. No."

Bill lifted his head and looked around until he spotted the object the absol had been referring to. The headless, gray lump lay mere feet from him, in the exact center of a wet, brown spot. An odor of sweat and blood and slight rot emanated from the machop corpse, and for the second time, Bill shuddered.

What are you waiting for, Bill? Eat.

"No," Bill rasped. "No! Absolutely not!"

We have not eaten since yesterday, and I would not even consider that proper food. It was disgusting and barely fulfilling.

"No," Bill replied firmly. He gripped the sides of his head with both hands and brought his knees tight against his chest. "No! I am not eating a pokémon!"

Bill. We must eat meat. We are a carnivore, and we are a carnivore that has gone one day and several battles without eating. We are famished, and we must replenish our energy. We have already slept. Now we must eat. You must eat that creature.

"Absolutely not!"

Then what will we eat?

Bill shook his head. "I don't know! Just not pokémon, all right?! I'll … I'll find something."

Not good enough.

His body responded by jolting forward until it planted its hands on the ground. It wasn't like any of the other times Adam had controlled him. He didn't feel like he was being pulled back into his skull. It simply felt like his hands and feet were operating by themselves, dragging him forward. He was even able to tense his back and shoulders and grind his tail into the ground in a desperate attempt to fight against it, but soon, he found himself kneeling over the machop corpse. His hands snaked outward without his consent, grasping the creature's limp arms and pulling it into his lap. As soon as he found himself holding the dead machop, he whimpered and felt tears roll down his cheeks.

"No," he begged. "Please, don't make me do this. I can't. I can't eat—"

Allow me to tell you a secret, Bill. I have been preventing you from feeling this.

A twisting pain shot through Bill's stomach, and he shut his eyes and doubled over with a shocked cry. One of his hands planted itself on the ground and braced the rest of his body as hunger pangs slammed into him full-force. He breathed deeply, struggling to gain enough control over the feeling of pain and emptiness for him to think clearly. Opening his eyes slowly, he stared down at the machop. As soon as he looked at it, the pains in his stomach got worse, more urgent. Pulling his hand from the ground, Bill wrapped his arm around his torso.

"Why?" he murmured.

Bill waited. He expected Adam to have a response, but he was met with silence. Shivering once more, he bowed his head.

"Oh gods," he whispered. "Please, please forgive me."

He leaned down, opened his mouth, and sank his fangs into the corpse's shoulder. The flesh felt softer than he had expected, and it tasted sweeter yet gamier. His fangs tore chunks out of the machop's arm like it was bread, and each bite slid across his tongue with a mixture of the carcass's congealed blood and his own saliva.

Bill stopped thinking about what he was doing right about then. Instead, he tried to think of a plan. His situation. Anything other than the carcass he was eating right then. And after the first few minutes—after he realized the hunger pangs were subsiding, after he learned to stare straight ahead instead of at his food—he was able to think of everything that had happened that day. About what it meant.

About their plan. Plan in the loosest term, even. He realized then that he had no idea where to begin. Where would he find the empress? How would he gain information about her? Capturing and interrogating a monarch sounded like an option, but could he really do that? Given his track record when it came to encounters with the ixodida, that sounded like a terrible idea.

He started in on the machop's other arm. So if interrogating an ixodida was out of the question, what did that leave him? Interrogating a human? What would they know? If Bill knew pokémon nests—and he did—he would bet any amount of money that the closer one got to the empress, the thicker her defenses would be. That meant either parasites or thicker groups of ixodida or both. If Fallarbor was full of refugees, then that must have meant that it was a settlement that was far from the areas of densest ixodida activity. Thus, it stood to reason that no one in Fallarbor would know as much about the ixodida as Lanette did, what with the fact that they were running away from them.

Not that going back to Fallarbor was a choice in the first place. Another pang hit Bill, but this time, it wasn't of hunger. It was of the realization that he couldn't go back to Fallarbor. He paused momentarily, milling over that thought. Why was it so important? Because of Lanette? No. Another twist in his chest told him that it wasn't Lanette that he was worried about. If anything, he had a word or two he wanted to share with that girl, should they ever cross paths again. No, this was something else. Something far, far more important.

"Oh." Bill rubbed his eyes against one of his arms. "Blast."

Bill? Adam asked. What is it?

He shook his head. "No. It's … it's nothing."

I would like to remind you that I can figure it out if you do not tell me, and if it is important to our mission—

"It's not," Bill answered quickly.

He looked down at the carcass in his hands. It no longer looked like a machop at all. Both arms were stripped of their muscles, leaving behind glistening bones covered with tiny shreds of viscera. The head was still missing, and Bill neither knew nor wanted to know where it was. All that was left was a gray mass with two stumpy legs. And somehow, right then, the fact that this was a corpse stopped bothering Bill. It was as if this thing wasn't a pokémon anymore. It was just an amorphous lump. It was food.

His claws picked at the carcass's chest as he composed his thoughts. Each finger sliced deep into the pokémon's flesh as if it was made of clay.

"It's not," he repeated, a little more calmly. "I was just thinking…"

Of?

"Of Raye," Bill said. He punctuated this thought by shoving a chunk of meat into his mouth, as if he wanted to stifle what he was about to say. "I lied to her again."

About?

"Coming back."

This is important?

Bill swallowed. "I said it wasn't!" He stopped. "Or … it's not important to our mission. It's important to me."

I see.

"No, you don't see." Bill set aside the carcass. "I swore to her that I'd come back, but … I broke my promise again. I didn't mean to. It's just…" He hesitated. Then sighed. Then pulled the carcass back into his lap and continued working on it.

You never meant to break any of your promises to that child.

"Of course not." Bill hesitated again. "It's funny. I never … I mean, I've done it before. It's not like I meant to. I never meant to any break the promises I'd make to Raye, but it would just happen. It always bothered me. Don't assume it didn't."

But this time, it bothers you more than the others?

"Yes." Bill pulled an entire handful of muscle clean off the carcass. "Although I suppose it's natural. I have no guarantees that I'll ever see her again."

So why are you concerned about what she thinks of you?

"It's difficult to explain."

Try.

Bill scoffed. "I'm not entirely sure you would understand. Would genetically engineered parasitic bioweapons have much of a concept of siblings? Besides the rivalry between Angra and Ahura, of course."

I do not understand your meaning.

"I mean," Bill said, "that you might not understand, given that you don't have any siblings of your own, really."

Yes, I have.

"The other ixodida don't count, Adam."

It didn't respond.

Bill continued to pick at the remainder of the carcass. The hunger pangs had finally subsided, and to his surprise, he felt almost full. Satisfied. Perhaps it was because he ate the equivalent of half a chicken, or perhaps it was because the machop meat was denser than—

He decided with absolute certainty that he would think about something else.

"Well, I suppose it's not so bad," he said, largely to himself. "At least I know she's safe so long as she stays in Fallarbor."

How can you be certain? Adam asked.

"Easy. Lanette seems to be running Fallarbor efficiently enough. Her army can hold its own." Bill's voice dripped with venom as he said those words, but the moment they were out of his mouth, he let himself drift back into a more relaxed disposition. "And in any case, so long as she stays with people, all she has to do is wait. Either I'll stop all this nonsense myself, or someone else will. Besides … at least she isn't alone."

You are putting a lot of faith in the resilience of Fallarbor. Especially when its leader tried to kill us twice.

This time, Bill didn't respond. It was because something caught his attention—the sounds of footsteps on a dirt path behind him. Tossing the rest of the carcass into the bushes, he yanked one of his gloves from a pocket and used it to rub the remaining machop blood off his mouth and chin. At the same time, he shifted, pulling himself up until he crouched on his toes. He took a deep breath and flexed his claws. This was it. This was going to be his first real fight. He steadied himself, forcing his heart to calm and his breathing to stay even. Then, exhaling, he turned to face his opponent.

The absol stood on a rise above him, her red eyes locked on his face. Bill relaxed then, sitting back down on the ground as he yanked his gloves out of his pocket and pulled them on.

"Oh," he said. "It's just you. Hello again."

She bowed her head, scraping her paws against the earth as she bared her teeth. A growl rumbled from her throat, but Bill was shocked to realize that, in his head, what he heard formed a word.

"Listen."

He froze, processing what he was seeing in front of him. A pokémon. One that was communicating just like any ordinary pokémon. But for one reason or another, his brain was sorting it into words, into languages he could understand. This wasn't like the moments in which he would listen to the slight variations of tone or watch for the slight shifts in how the pokémon held itself. Rather, it was as if he was hearing his own native language. And it was coming from an absol.

Do not forget the side effects I had mentioned earlier, Adam said. This may be a pokémon, but because you have touched my mind and siphoned some of my knowledge, it should come as no surprise to you that the absol speaks.

"Oh," he whispered, settling back into his seat. "Oh. That—"

"Listen!" she barked. "She needs you! Listen to her!"

Bill flinched but fell silent. At first, he wasn't sure what the absol could have meant, but then, relaxing, he obeyed. Closing his eyes, he strained his ears and cocked his head, searching for any odd sound on the wind.

Finally, he heard it. A tiny voice. A crying voice.

A familiar voice.

"Raye?!"

Bill snapped his eyes open and let his face falter. He scrambled to his feet and ground his toes into the earth. Reaching into himself, he frantically searched for the spark he had felt in the volcano.

"Raye!" he shouted. "Hold on!"

His mind latched onto something—a warm energy that flit across his heart. Under his armor, his muscles pulsed and tensed, struggling to push the charge against his skin. He jumped. A gold light flickered around his body as he stumbled forward, nearly pitching not into the air but into the brush. Somehow, he remained standing, tripping and rushing in the direction of Raye's voice.

"Raye! Raye!" He grabbed his shoulder. "Come on! Come on! Adam, help me!"

It will do you no good to panic. Calm.

Another warmth flowed across Bill's body. He couldn't help but stop as the sensation trickled into his limbs and across his head. All of a sudden, he felt calm. Not at ease. Simply clear. His breathing evened out again, and the panic dissolved into a blankness. And in that blankness, Adam shut their eyes.

Good, it said. Now focus. Reach into yourself. You nearly had it. Do you feel the spark?

"I don't…"

You do. You remember how it felt, do you not? Dig deep. Remember.

His mind dove deep into himself and searched his memories. He recalled the way it had felt the first time he had been awake for it: the spark, the warmth, the power, the light. He remembered the way it had flooded his being, the way it had danced across his skin and burst from his back. The way it had filled him with fire and euphoria. And somewhere deep inside himself, he could feel the glimmer of it. The spark.

Yes. There. Now let it flow.

He did.

And his world lit up with gold.

Opening his eyes, Bill found himself floating. His feet hung beneath him, barely an inch above the ground, and he could feel his entire body pushing off of the earth ever so slightly, even if he wasn't actually touching the ground.

"Raye," he breathed. "I'm coming!"

Snapping his tail behind him, Bill dropped towards the ground and skimmed. He could feel the jets of light flaring behind him, feel the wind rushing all around him, feel the craggy valley pass him by as he shot eastward, towards his sister's voice. The valley around him became a blur of red and brown and gray, but it no longer mattered. All he could focus on was her voice, growing louder and louder until at last, he spotted a flash of green and one of blue. Twisting in the air, he dove at the green, scooped her into his arms, and came to a hover meters above the ground just after dodging a Water Gun. He leaned back, almost to recline on nothing as he pulled Raye into his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

"Shh," he said. "Shh. It's me, Raye. I've got you."

Raye's fingers clung tightly to his shirt, and her body trembled, wracked every so often by her still-fading sobs. Bill could only wait, holding her as he scanned their surroundings. Below him was Wartortle, standing on a rock with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Bill flashed the water-type an uncertain smile, prompting Wartortle to huff and turn away. With a sigh, Bill looked up, pulling his eyes to…

…The battlefield. He froze instantly, scanning the wreckage for the first time. All around him, stretched in the shadow of Mt. Chimney, were bodies. Bodies of ixodida. Bodies of people. Bodies of pokémon. Dead lying in sunbaked, blood-caked earth for feet in every direction. And the stench. The stench came at last to him, now that his mind was no longer clouded with adrenaline. Rot had yet to overtake the dead, and as such, the battlefield was not yet rife with the smell of decomposition. Instead, it was rife with the smell of blood and bile. With a deep breath, Bill let himself drift upwards, into the air, into the sky, to make it harder for Raye to see what was surrounding them. Had she wandered into this field? Was that why she was crying? Scanning the field, Bill could see no sign of movement other than Wartortle and the approaching absol. He couldn't even smell any living ixodida; everything there was dead and rock and the wartortle and absol.

He held his sister close, looked down at the bodies, and waited. Even from that vantage point, he could see them—the corpses. He could see the dismembered body of the monarch. He could see the countless parts of ground-type drones. He could see dead oddish and spinda and masquerain and countless others.

And in his mind, he could see wingless tropius and scratched-up whiscash. They weren't there, of course. Miracles of miracles, they were already too injured to fight, and as such, Bill was spared the images of Lila Penn or Jayden or the Stavros siblings dead on the battlefield too. They were lucky. They had to attend their recovering pokémon. But that didn't mean he still didn't remember them as he looked at the limbless cacturne next to the decapitated ace trainer or the split-open milotic sandwiched between a shot-up drone and half of a veteran. These were still people. Still the people of Fallarbor. Still the dead.

And Bill shook and swallowed and drifted backwards.

"Raye?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

She nodded into his shoulder. "Nii-chan? You didn't come back."

Her words stung, and it took all of Bill's effort not to tense at them. He stroked her head with a hand and curled his other arm tight around her torso.

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to this time. Did you come out here looking for me?"

She nodded again. Relaxing, Bill coaxed her into sitting back onto his knees. His arms held her there, keeping her just distant enough for him to look into her face.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said. "It's very dangerous out here. You should have stayed in town where it was safe."

This time, she shook her head, wiping her tears into his shirt. "No! Abby said you wouldn't come back!"

"Abby." Bill furrowed his eyebrows. "That's the second time you've mentioned an Abby. Who's Abby?"

Raye pulled her eyes away from him and looked down. Following her gaze, Bill found himself looking directly at the absol. She was glaring back at him, her crimson-eyed stare boring into his skull.

"Oh," he murmured. "Abby is short for 'absol.' That makes—"

And then, the realization of what Raye meant hit him like a tidal wave.

Absol could predict disaster.

So if an absol told his sister that he wasn't coming back, that meant…

"Oh no," he gasped.

Bill was not entirely surprised to be blindsided by a bright, white light. He was not surprised by the rock-like object smashing into the side of his head, nor was he surprised that the light washed over him and dissolved his golden aura. He knew the instant he realized what Raye had meant that something terrible was going to happen. It was just that he wished he would have realized as soon as he saw the absol on the crest of the hill. And now, he fell, ears ringing, head swimming, body twisting violently to protect Raye. Her scream filled his ears, Adam's presence filled his mind, and before he knew it, green light filled his vision.

And then, he felt it: the impact of his Protect against the dry, dusty earth, followed shortly by the way it shattered beneath him. He landed with a thump on his back, his arms still wrapped tightly around his crying sister, and for a second, he couldn't move. Silver bolts struck the ground by his head and drew massive boulders out of the earth. These boulders rose, spinning like tops until they formed a perfect, hovering circle around them. Then, finally, all was still. The boulders moved lazily in their circle, and Raye sobbed into her brother's chest. But other than that, all was silent.

With a grunt, Bill pulled himself to his knees and helped his sister to hers. He placed his hands on either side of her face and leaned in.

"Raye?" he asked. "Were you hurt?"

Wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, she shook her head once again. "Nii-chan, the rocks…"

"Shh," he whispered. "Shh. It's Stealth Rock. I know."

Then, she shook her head one more time and pointed over his shoulder. "The rocks!"

Straightening, Bill looked over his shoulder, past the stone ring. Through the gaps between the boulders, he could see the side of Mt. Chimney. Except … it was moving. He stood, squinting as he peered at the shifting stone, and for the first few seconds, it looked as if boulders were crawling down the mountainside.

But the longer he stared at them, the more he realized they weren't boulders.

They were ixodida—a group of them scuttling down the mountainside on all fours. He could hear their quiet chattering as they inched closer … and the chattering echoed.

Shivering with the chill of that revelation, Bill turned and peered through the rocks. All around him were more ixodida, crawling down every cliffside and up every burrow their ground-type brethren left behind. Although there weren't hundreds of rock-types present, there were more of them than Bill knew he could handle.

And they had him surrounded.