I'm having so much fun writing this. This is the largest chapter of Escape from Thunderhead so far, and its title comes from a song by my favorite band. So that's always fun.

I was going to wait one more day before posting this chapter, but I needed a pick-me-up of sorts; it's been a rough day for me. I'll probably just post chapters when I feel like it now. I look forward to seeing what you all think of this segment.

Current music: The Man - Aloe Blacc

LUCAS' POV

I couldn't help but feel relieved when dinner was over. Once we'd finished our meal, we were free to leave Sionne behind.

Why had she decided to butt in on our bliss? Was she really that desperate?

As we walked back to the apartment complex, I kept imagining the Pyroar behind us on the road, ready to charge and tackle us to the ground. It didn't matter that this wasn't something Sionne would likely do at all; just the mere suggestion held great power over me.

Janelle didn't speak for most of the walk back. As the sun got lower in the sky, and eventually set completely, the air took on a slight chill, which wasn't what I'd expected after it had been so stuffy in our apartment.

"It's nice to have fur coats now, isn't it?" I quipped when we got close to the building.

Janelle grunted and turned away from me. Perhaps the outing had done more harm than good to our…well, I don't think friendship is the right word. Neither is relationship. Suffice it to say that I didn't expect anything other than more arguing to come out of this.

By the time we finally reached the building, my stubby Litleo legs had become almost like jelly, and my eyelids were getting harder and harder to hold above my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep until the morning came, when Janelle would hopefully be in a better mood.

Once we reached the lobby, Janelle turned to me once more. Her eyes were bloodshot, but I couldn't tell if this was from anger or tiredness.

"Well, that was a nice meal out" she said testily.

I rolled my eyes. "I can only assume that was sarcasm?"

Janelle narrowed her own eyes. "Of course that was sarcasm, Lucas! Yes, I know it's not all your fault, but Sionne really jumped in where she didn't belong!"

"She had a right to be there, Janelle," I responded. "It's just like our right to go to the Wind Festival next week. The restaurant is public property."

"Well, I don't know if that was a coincidence or not," Janelle said. "But do you still want to attend the Wind Festival? Sionne seemed pretty insistent that we didn't."

I frowned. "You were just saying that she couldn't tell us what to do. Are you suggesting that Sionne knows something we don't?"

"Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. But do you want to take the risk of showing up?"

"Yes," I replied. "If we're going to do something dangerous anyway, we might as well have fun in the process."

Just then, the receptionist looked over her computer with a severe expression.

"I hate to interrupt your nice little chat, but it's not exactly polite to create a disturbance in the lobby. Tenants are trying to sleep right now, so unless you want to risk eviction, you'd be wise to tone it down."

"Fair enough," Janelle muttered. "My apologies. We'll be quieter next time."

"I would appreciate that."

We climbed the six flights of stairs to our flat, which, in my current state of exhaustion, felt akin to climbing Mount Everest. It's a strange thing, but sometimes when you do nothing all day, you feel too tired to do anything later; that's precisely what was happening at that moment.

I didn't even brush my fangs; I clambered into bed and closed my eyes. Since I'd gotten better at not crushing my tail when I laid down, it didn't take more than a few minutes for me to drift off.

Ferguson: What happened when you fell asleep that night, Mr. Teller?

Defendant: Well, my body remained on my bed, while my mind wandered. In other words, I had a dream.

Ferguson: What happened in the dream? I would think it's a pretty notable one if you still recall it so well today.

Defendant: Well, you're not wrong on that front. Sometimes I still dream of that mountain, and how much pain has happened since.

Ferguson: Don't try to butter me up, Mr. Teller. It's an insult to the rule of law, and besides, it isn't going to work.

The dream I would remember so clearly didn't start out as anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't the type that I instantly thought would be memorable once I returned to wakefulness.

It began like any other nighttime vision, with a rather "detached" sensation. I had a bird's-eye view of a cold gray sea beneath a slightly dark, cloudy sky. The stench of thunder hung in the air, and the sound of it also crackled in the distance.

Suddenly, I was tilted into a standing position, and then I was able to get a good view of the area. It was as though an invisible hand had grabbed me and pulled me in that direction, a very disarming experience indeed.

Anyway, the churning sea surrounded a chain of islands, an archipelago, that stretched as far as the eye could see. Many people associate islands with fun tropical beach vacations, but this wasn't that type of archipelago.

These islands were probably volcanic in origin, with jet-black cliffs rising hundreds of feet from the churning ocean's surface. Most of them were pretty small, but size isn't everything. There was an otherworldly, rugged beauty about each speck of land.

However, one of the islands, by far the largest, lay far in the distance. This was the island that caught my attention and refused to let go.

This isle consisted of a mountain rising straight from the sea, with nothing but a black sand beach between it and the water. Despite this, the mountain was quite imposing; its color made it look as though it had been burned to a crisp, but it somehow still stood.

The shape of the mountain was very much irregular. It appeared to be leaning to one side, and this gave the appearance that it might topple over any moment, like a tall stack of dishes.

Waves crashed against the dark volcanic sand, sending salty spray up several feet. I could practically feel it from here.

And then the scene changed.

Now I was standing at the peak of a mountain. Somehow I knew it was the same one, because from this vantage point, all the other islands looked like toys by comparison.

Not far from where I stood, a creature whose fur was varying shades of yellow, dark gray, and blue also stood. Perhaps "stood" isn't the best word to use, though, since the creature's posture was rather awkward.

To be fair, it's hard to maintain a perfect posture when there are tendrils weaving every which way around your body, pinning you to a rock wall.

The creature struggled against its bonds, but it was just like quicksand: The more you try to force your way out of it, the more difficult it becomes to do that. In this case, the creature was further ensnared by the vines, some of them reaching close to its neck.

"If I were you, I wouldn't fight so hard. It's futile; in fact, it'll only make things worse for you."

I couldn't see the source of that voice, but whoever it was, I wanted them to feel the wrath of a million suns. It was one thing to imprison a Pokemon, but it was quite another to taunt them while doing so.

"I…can't…move," the creature complained. "They're tied really tightly around my stomach, and I feel like I'm going to puke."

"Moving is not the most important thing for you right now!" the roaring tone announced. "You're lucky to still be breathing with how vigorously you've chafed against your bonds!"

The creature rolled its eyes. "You're not going to take down a Mythical Pokemon that easily!"

Wait a minute…a Mythical Pokemon. When did Janelle and I talk about that?

"Humans aren't going to lift a finger to help you, though" the other voice told the Mythical Pokemon. "You've had bad experiences with them before; how can you trust them after all they've put you through?"

The chained creature did not answer. Instead, it turned its neck as far as the tendrils would allow it to, getting a glimpse of the sea.

If he were planning an escape, then I would have hated to break it to the creature: It wasn't going to get anywhere. The water was several thousand feet down below, straight down. And even the power of a Mythical Pokemon was limited. If the creature were lucky enough to survive a fall from this great height, it would then have to swim to safety - and "safety" was nowhere near this mountain.

"Your name is Roy, right?" the creature asked eventually after giving a great sigh.

"Why is that relevant?" the Mythical Pokemon's captor asked, stepping out of the shadows to reveal that he was a Pyroar.

He was even more massive than Chief Leopold, even more intimidating, but the difference was that Leopold at least seemed to care about others. The Village Elder of Chilly Waters didn't glare psychopathically at those with whom he disagreed.

The Pyroar, evidently named Roy, was a different story. The way Roy's eyes glinted as he stared at the Mythical was nothing short of bone-chilling. It suggested that the Pyroar would spare no expense in taking vengeance against his captive, no matter the cost.

The Mythical opened its mouth, but Roy was quicker on the draw.

"I know your name, of course. Zeraora, the hero of Fula City. At least, to most of the people in Fula City."

"You're playing with fire here" Zeraora responded, its eyes glinting bright red. "And I do mean literal fire. According to the calculations of environmental scientists, natural disasters will have increased by twenty-two percent every day I'm gone."

"Bullshit!" Roy bellowed. "That's fake news, Zeraora, and you know it!"

Fake news. He's so flippant about denying what's right in front of him.

"No, it's not fake news at all" the Mythical said testily. "In fact, the evidence is all around you. You don't have to look very hard to find it."

"Whatever," Zeroara's captor replied. "Now, Zera, if you'll excuse me-".

"Don't call me Zera" the Mythical responded through gritted fangs. "It's considered a grave insult to do so."

"Well, let me tell you something, Zera; you are in no position to be making demands of me. Beggars can't be choosers, after all."

It was clear that Roy had just pushed Zeraora over the edge. The Mythical Pokemon once more strained against its bonds, thrashing its limbs violently in a vain effort to escape the tendrils' snare.

But it didn't work. The tendrils were getting tighter and tighter around Zeraora's waist and limbs; they crept uncomfortably close to its neck. And then, there was perhaps the most alarming sight of all.

Zeraora seemed to grow weaker. At first, this could be easily dismissed as the bonds becoming stronger, but it didn't take long to realize that their captive's strength was waning. Each thrash was a little less vigorous.

"What the…" Zeraora began, at which point Roy smiled from ear to ear.

"Are you surprised that after fighting against your bonds, you become exhausted? If so, you really shouldn't be. Overexertion tends to do that to a Pokemon, even a Mythical."

"This isn't natural" the Mythical Pokemon spoke in little more than a whisper. There was no doubt about it: Zeraora couldn't muster much more than that.

"What do you mean, it's not natural?" Roy replied. "Thunderhead Mountain is a natural landscape, a wonder of nature if you ask me! This is one of the most beautiful parts of the world!"

Zeraora rolled its eyes. "It's pretty rich of you to say that when you're ruining everything else. And what do you even hope to accomplish by keeping me here?"

Roy shrugged. "The Seablast Corporation has to turn a profit somehow. We have to be in the green, not in the red."

At those words, Zeraora seemed to grow even more incensed, if that were possible. Despite its clear drowsiness, the Mythical didn't hold back in its invective against Roy.

"So you're putting short-time profits ahead of the long-term habitability of our planet! You're a monster, Roy! And I thought humans were the worst creatures on Nexus, but they don't have a monopoly on evil! You should be in prison!"

Zeraora paid dearly for its spirited rant. With every word, it became more evident that the Mythical was struggling to keep its eyes open. As though the energy were being sucked out of it, Zeraora slumped forward; at first gradually, and then all at once.

Before long, the Mythical Pokemon was either asleep or unconscious. And Roy just stood there looking so smug, I could hardly bear it.

What felt like a few seconds later, I woke up abruptly back in the apartment. And right away, I felt an apocalyptic pain in my backside. My eyes also watered like crazy.

And then I realized what had just happened: I'd crushed my tail.

For those of you who don't have a tail, I envy you. Some humans dream about being animals all the time (even if humans are animals, you know what I mean), but it isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sitting on one's tail is one of the most agony-inducing things one can do.

There was nothing to do but sit there and wait for the pain to pass. And when it finally did subside, it was replaced with fire and fury, the likes of which the world had never seen before.

If my dream had been accurate…well, okay, the word if was doing some heavy lifting there. Prophetic dreams weren't something I'd ever believed in, but something about that nightmare had felt different. It felt so real that it may well have been real life.

So Roy the Pyroar - is his last name Pyroar? Who cares? Anyway, he's keeping Zeraora captive somewhere. And that's why Zeraora vanished, and presumably the reason all these strange weather events are occurring.

My paws clenched into fists at the thought of what Roy was doing. What kind of monster would chain up a Mythical Pokemon like that, let alone one so vital as Zeraora?

I had to do something. It didn't matter if that something was brazen, reckless, or even stupid. I didn't care if it ended up backfiring - the most important thing was taking action somehow.

But I had nobody to talk to right now. Janelle probably wouldn't believe me; at a minimum, she'd have a boatload of questions, to which I'd have no answers. As for Sionne, things were probably too awkward between us for a healthy conversation.

Wait a minute…Sionne. She gave me something yesterday, didn't she?

That was right. Sionne had handed me a napkin with Leopold's phone number written on it. And I'd carried it home from the restaurant, believing that it would come in handy at some point.

I just hadn't expected it so soon.

Still, I wasted no time as I eased myself out of bed and limped over to the kitchen table. There was the napkin, and there was the phone number written on it. (Sionne's penmanship impressed me to no end; were I to handwrite something in my Litleo form, it would end up an incoherent mess.)

"Let's see, the number is 547-536-7653" I said aloud. For some reason, I always found it helpful to narrate what I was doing, even if nobody else was around to hear me. I punched in the number with some difficulty, then hit the call button.

I don't know why I expected Chief Leopold to already be available, but after the second ring, he picked up the phone. "Who is this?" his gruff voice asked from the other end.

"Oh, it's Lucas," I replied. And that's when the regret started to settle in. You see, calling the Village Elder had seemed like a wonderful idea when I'd first considered it, but this effort might fall flat on its face.

"With all due respect, Lucas, I need my beauty rest. I am an elderly Pyroar, after all."

I sighed. "Well, I promise I won't keep you from bed very long. I get that it's early, but I had something I needed to tell you about."

I heard Leopold grunt, but a few seconds later, he responded in a far more considerate tone.

"Yes?" he asked. "I mean, if you're concerned about something, that is valid, though I'm hoping it's an emergency and not just a nightmare."

Barely resisting the urge to snort with laughter, I replied with the following two words.

"It's both."

"Noted. In that case, you may spell it out for me, but I might not be as alert as I would have been at a different time of day. You will need to bear with me."

I spoke as slowly as I could, since when I'm passionate about something, I often have the habit of talking too fast. And this is what I said:

"I had a dream last night about Zeraora. I know you'll consider it crazy, but I know what I witnessed."

To my surprise, Leopold did not hang up on the spot. Instead, he let loose a sigh and then asked, "What happened in the dream?"

I briefly filled the Village Elder in on everything that I'd seen while I was asleep. Well, almost everything. I left out the part about the captor's name, as well as the way Zeraora's bonds seemed to grow stronger each time the Mythical Pokemon struggled. Those details weren't important; at least, I didn't think they were.

"And it felt real," I said at the end. "More real than real life, in fact."

"Well, just because a dream feels true doesn't mean it is true," Leopold told me. "It is a fine line scientists must walk; one must be open-minded but not gullible, skeptical but not dismissive."

"You're not a scientist, though, are you?"

"Well, no. But I know a thing or two about how to find the truth. And the only thing I can say for certain is that we can't rule anything out."

"Nothing?"

"Look at it this way, Lucas. You and Janelle ended up in this world together somehow. Nobody from Earth has ever visited Nexus; for the longest time, that was an axiom of truth, one that informed everything else we believed. And now? Well, it's all shifted."

"I still don't get it," I admitted.

"Well, you don't have to understand everything," Leopold responded. "Even I could never hope to gain all of the universe's secrets. But, as to whether your dream was real or not, your guess is as good as mine."

"But Thunderhead Mountain…" I began. "Where is that, exactly?"

A very audible silence could be heard over the phone. The Village Elder eventually broke it by saying, "I don't think you need to know. We don't know for sure whether Zeraora's truly held there, and if it isn't, the treacherous journey will have been made for nothing."

All I could think about was the look on Roy's face when he tormented Zeraora with glee. That was all the information needed to make my decision.

"I'm up for it" I insisted. "I don't have a future here anyway, so I might as well do some good while I'm in this world."

Leopold laughed dryly. "Don't be too sure about that, kid. So many things could happen, but Thunderhead Mountain's dangerous. I've heard stories about that place. And who did you say had Zeraora captive?"

I narrowed my eyes, even though Leopold obviously couldn't see me do so. "Why does that matter?"

"Because it's better to know more than to know less. Who was it?"

I barely hesitated; I knew by now that I could trust Leopold. "His name was Roy. He was a Pyroar. And he said he worked for…Sandblast Corporation?"

"Seablast, you mean?"

"Yes, that's it" I responded, feeling my cheeks turn the color of beets. "That was the name."

It was then that Leopold's calm demeanor completely vanished.

"That's enough! I won't entertain the possibility…it's unthinkable. I'll talk to you some other time, okay?"

And before I could say anything, he hung up on me, just like that. Maybe he did think I was insane after all.

Or even worse, maybe he knows something I don't.

KAI'S POV

The day after the acrimonious talk with Jim Bob, Kai sat in the break room along with many other employees of the Seablast Corporation. Unlike the breaks Otto had taken the previous day, this one was fully authorized. Everyone used it, after all.

The Raichu had gone to the lunch counter to find that the only things being served were meatloaf and mashed potatoes, two of his least favorite foods.

Dammit! There must be supply chain issues or something!

Of course, Kai was well aware that beggars can't be choosers. He had to eat something, after all. So after getting his tray, he made his way back to the table where Otto sat.

The Oshawott wrinkled his nose when he saw Kai's tray. "I thought you hated meatloaf and mashed potatoes," he said.

Kai let out a great sigh. "Unfortunately, that's all there is today. Must be a problem with getting the food here. Did you hear about all the extreme weather?"

Otto snorted. "Of course I did, Kai. It's been all over the news, perhaps one of the biggest stories of the last few weeks. And if I've been slacking off, well, at least I've been doing something productive."

"Like doomscrolling?"

"I guess," the Oshawott replied. "Anyway, how was your work on the machine going?"

They still hadn't learned anything about what the device's purpose was, and each time Kai tried to concentrate on the project, he couldn't help but feel that something was highly suspicious. Why did their superiors feel the need to keep the truth from them?

"It's going okay. Making lots of progress" Kai replied. Of course, I don't know if that's good or bad. "Can the same be said for you?"

"Not really," Otto admitted. "It's just hard to concentrate sometimes. Plus I'm not quite as diligent as you are, even if I am smarter."

The Raichu felt a bit burned by that, but not too much. He knew that his friend only meant it in jest, and didn't truly mean to offend him.

Once Otto had returned with his helping of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, the two of them sat there eating for a few minutes. Kai was tempted to pinch his nose so that he wouldn't taste the food as much, but he knew that this would be frowned upon. It wasn't their managers' fault that the food was crappy.

Just when they were almost finished, it happened.

The loudspeaker's "ringtone", set to the tune of "9 to 5" for whatever reason, sounded. Although many of the employees in the break room had been busy making small talk (or not-so-small talk), all conversation ceased at that very moment. They were well aware that whenever the intercom went off, it was their duty to listen.

"Good afternoon, employees at Seablast!" came a booming tone over the loudspeaker. This in itself was a signal that the announcement was important. You see, announcements over the intercom were usually delivered in a robotic tone, probably spoken by an AI or something similar. But when their CEO spoke to his employees directly, something was up.

"I hope all of you have had a productive day thus far, and that you're in good spirits. Although this is a mining corporation, I have the utmost respect for my workers, and I hope you all agree and are proud to work for Seablast."

Uh…is there really a need for him to announce that?

"As everyone here knows, I, Roy Pyroar, usually only speak directly to you when there's an imperative announcement to make. I believe that today's news merits this measure, and I apologize for interrupting.

"Unfortunately, the news today is not good. In fact, it is potentially catastrophic, for it demonstrates that the whole world order is at risk of collapsing. Things just aren't going the way they should be."

"That's a fancy way of saying nothing at all," Otto whispered to Kai, snickering slightly.

Roy didn't seem to hear them; of course, why would he? Instead, their CEO kept talking.

"We have received reports indicating that there are two interlopers on the planet known as Nexus, the planet we all hold dear. As much as we love Nexus, it's not meant to be shared by everyone in the universe. Quite frankly, these interlopers should go back to where they came from!"

How would he know that, exactly?, Kai wondered. Of course, sometimes bosses worked in mysterious ways, even if that saying was often a euphemism for "Stop asking hard questions."

"You all might be wondering why these aliens impact you. Yes, it's a problem for the government to solve, but surely it's not a matter for employees of Seablast to be concerned about. Well, I'll let you in on a little not-so-secret.

"It's said that when there's smoke, there's fire. Just because there are only two interlopers, aliens, take your pick, arriving on Nexus, that doesn't mean that there won't be two thousand tomorrow, and perhaps twenty thousand the next day. And they're all going to take your jobs."

Kai shivered, though he didn't know which felt more disturbing. Was it the news itself, or the language Roy used in delivering it?

"Surely you, as a longtime employee in good standing with the Seablast Corporation, would be more deserving of this opportunity. After all, you were here first. You know how to do the job, and they don't. If necessary, you may have to take up arms and defend this planet."

Otto snorted. "I'm probably not one of the people he's talking about. There's no way I'm in good standing."

Kai ignored him. He was too focused on what their boss needed to say as opposed to what Otto wanted to say.

"Now, I'm not going to tell any of you what you should or shouldn't do about these interlopers. All of you have free will, of course; that's just the way it works. But I will say this: Someone needs to do something.

"That is all. I would like to apologize for interrupting you all, particularly if you were engrossed in your projects. And I will speak to you again when there's another pressing matter. Thank you for listening."

With that, the loudspeaker crackled a bit, then shut off. Its purpose had been served, at least for the time being.

"What do you think he meant?" Kai asked eventually, once the deafening silence died down and the numerous conversations around the break room started up again.

"I don't know," Otto replied. "But I've got a bad feeling about this. We should talk about it and try to figure out our next move."

The Raichu frowned at the Oshawott. "Why are you acting so worried about this?"

On some level, Kai was trying to convince himself that things were okay rather than Otto. He wanted to project confidence so that he could fake it until he made it, as they say.

Otto shook his head. "We'll have to discuss this back in our dormitory. I don't trust that anywhere else is private enough."

For the rest of the day, Otto was not the only one at Seablast who found it difficult to concentrate. Kai, too, would frequently look away from his computer to blink. He knew this was a good practice to prevent eye strain, but that wasn't why he did it.

All I need to do is to work on the machine. I'll help finish the job, and that will make up for Otto's shortcomings. I just wish I had his natural talent for math.

It needs to be said, of course, that Otto wasn't exactly a picture of focus that day either. He stared at his screen, but he looked almost catatonic as he did so, barely blinking at all. If Kai didn't know any better, he could have convinced himself that his colleague was dead.

"What's wrong, Otto?" the Raichu asked eventually, not for the first time. "You get distracted easily, but surely not this easily?"

As though he'd been jolted back to life, Otto swiveled around in his chair and gave Kai a glare.

"If Roy or even Jim Bob hear us, we're both going to be sacked. Quite frankly, we'll be lucky if that's the worst that happens as a result. It could be so much worse, you know?"

"If the room is bugged, that ship may already have sailed" Kai pointed out. "It's not like there's any more harm you could do by voicing your thoughts."

Otto sighed. "Fair enough. Perhaps…oh, I've got an idea!"

Kai couldn't believe it had taken them this long to figure it out, but writing notes by hand seemed like a perfect solution. It wasn't illogical for notes to be jotted down on paper in order to solve equations, or even just to doodle for a minute on break. And all the microphones would pick up was the sound of a mechanical pencil on paper.

Otto wrote awkwardly, in a scrawl akin to that of a first-grader. There's a reason that penmanship wasn't emphasized in schools that Pokemon attended. More than once, the Oshawott dropped the pen, leaving an inkblot on the page.

We need to burn the evidence once we're done, Otto wrote. Because if these notes are found, and our superiors are able to read them, we're in deep shit.

Otto then handed Kai the pen and paper, and the Raichu frowned. He had no confidence in his ability to write legibly, but Otto had done the same thing, so he just had to go for it.

Why?

It was just one simple word, but it was all Kai felt like jotting down at the moment. Holding the pen between his claws took considerable effort.

Otto's response was the following: Truth be told, I don't think it's right to be working here anymore. Especially since we don't know what they're planning.

Kai thought over his response for a few seconds before he began writing.

If we don't know what they're planning, isn't it a bit early to jump to conclusions? For all we know, they could be planning a surprise party.

The Oshawott laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. He took the pen and began scribbling furiously.

I don't think that's it. Do you feel like it's a good idea to be working for a corporation that keeps so much from you? So much key information that it would be nice to have?

I don't know, Kai replied. I think it depends on the situation. Not everyone can know everything. No one can, in fact.

Otto did not look happy as he wrote his next answer. When he handed Kai the paper again, it read the following: If they won't at least tell us what we're doing, that's a major red flag. I say that until we know what this machine is for, we don't do any more work.

So then we'll just have to sit here and not surf the Internet?, Kai wondered "aloud."

Hey, it'll be harder for me than it is for you. But yes, that's the way it has to be.

Kai frowned. The longer this written conversation lasted, the more intensely he disliked the way it was going. How could he not?

When the Raichu received the pen again, he moved it vigorously across the sheet of paper, not caring if Otto would be able to read it or not. In a way, he was merely trying to satisfy his desire for a punching bag - and this paper was the punching bag.

If we're going to find out what the new machine does, how would we do that without surfing the Internet? There's just no way.

Otto scratched his chin before replying.

I don't know. But if we don't need to work, we'll find a way. We will have nothing but time.

The two of them traded notes for a while, each writing a sentence or two down at a time. It was a far more inefficient method of communication than speaking aloud, but it was nonetheless their only choice. Who knows if anything was truly accomplished during this exchange.

All Kai knew, once he and Otto had ripped the document into a million pieces and flushed it down the toilet, was that he didn't even know what to think.

Hours later, as he lay awake in bed, the doubts began to creep in like ants all over his body. They would consume him if he gave them too much traction, and yet this whole matter was like the Donphan in the room - he couldn't stop thinking about it precisely because he was trying not to dwell on it.

During his high school years, Kai had given himself over to the idea that he wanted to be a technician of some sort. Science interested him, after all, even though he was far from a straight-A student.

His parents had warned him many times that he didn't have the temperament for it, that he would become frustrated too easily. But every time they downplayed his chances, he only grew more determined to reach his goal. And that's how he graduated from high school with honors.

College was when all doubts had been evicted from his mind. Kai knew that he wanted to do this, it was obvious! He'd taken all the steps necessary and aced all the right classes, even when it involved pulling an all-nighter on several occasions. And orientation had gone smoothly as well, simply because he was determined to get everything right.

In other words, Kai was the living embodiment of "I can" being more important than IQ.

What must be understood is that one generally doesn't go to such extraordinary lengths to achieve their dream if they have serious doubts about whether or not it's the right thing to do. Kai had promised himself that he wouldn't let his skeptics down, and now he was failing to deliver.

But what if failure is a good thing?