POV: Cynthia / LOCATION: Sinnoh League
The informant called Charon looks about as trustworthy as a viper in a rice field while giving off the impression that ice will never melt in his mouth.
Lucian automatically steps in front of me. "What made you defect from Galactic?"
"Young man, there will be a time and place to discuss everything."
"There is no time like the present."
"Ah, but time is money. We mustn't waste it needlessly."
"Indeed, time is the most valuable currency we can spend. So let us use it wisely."
It happens in an instant, an exchange nobody notices but me, since I am watching Charon closely. He darts a brief, dark glance at Lucian, a look poisoned with malice and makes my hairs stand on end, before he conceals it with a smile of resignation and a shake of his head, downplaying the matter.
"All in due time, I assure you. I came here to congratulate our Champion in her victory against the leader of Team Galactic. There is no doubt the history books will immortalize your heroic feats!"
Charon offers his hand. I stare at him until he withdraws his offer of acquaintanceship with forced nonchalance.
"What did you think of our grand opening?" Charon says.
"Of what?" I say.
"Neo Galactic Energy."
Taking my stupefied silence as an opportunity to reclaim control of the conversation, Lucian says, "Galactic Energy has been remade into Neo Galactic Energy with headquarters in the original Veilstone location."
"Who's the new boss?" I say. Jupiter is the most likely candidate because everyone else is either incompetent, lazy, or completely crazy.
"The humble scientific genius himself at your service," says Charon.
I glance at Looker for confirmation of denial. He shoots me a thumbs-up.
"What happened to everyone else?" I say. "The Commanders?"
Charon spits out a gruff laugh. "Commanders! Please, refer to them as my chief operating assistants. We are not living out an immature buffoon's delusions of commanding the galaxy with his silly space station."
"Charon has advocated for the full pardoning of everyone involved in the old Team Galactic," Looker adds helpfully. "Except Cyrus, of course."
"Those poor souls were poisoned by Cyrus's charisma. With his tantalizing promises, he exploited our basic human need to regain control of our lives." Charon then waves a dismissive hand, as if fanning away a bad smell. "Regardless, under my leadership, I vow to restore the trust between Neo Galactic and the people of Sinnoh."
If I am expected to clap for his outstanding ovation, I've missed the cue. But Charon is far from finished with his sales pitch.
"I am deeply grateful for Detective Looker's assistance in fully pardoning my former team. I've missed them dearly."
"Interpol owes you a great service!" Looker says.
"So you left Galactic as a whistleblower and returned as its leader?" Lucian's voice is uncharacteristically harsh.
"I did not create that opportunity, young man. The opportunity fell into my laps."
They measure each other from behind tinted lenses. Lucian looks ready to throw down with a creepy old man.
"Well!" I say. "If that'll be all for today—"
"I came for you specifically, Champion Cynthia. I did not plan to get sidetracked by your… underling."
Lucian's eye twitches, but he keeps his mouth shut.
"This was confiscated during the raid," Charon says.
The hunk of metal in his hands is scorched to the point of being unrecognizable, yet I can discern the skeleton of a helmet under all that ash.
"This is a memory erasure device."
"I knew it!" I hiss. That lying bastard was responsible for my early memory loss!
Am I imagining it, or does a shadow of satisfaction snake across Charon's face?
"And the second object of interest found in the Laboratory…"
When Charon pulls the evidence out, a flood of gooseflesh washes over my body, causing my heart to start racing and my fingers to become slippery with sweat.
Lucian is drawn in by the otherworldly glow. "A gear?"
"A Time Gear."
"Pardon?"
"The myth of the Time Gears," I gasp.
"I see you are well-acquainted in mythology," Charon says, almost purring. "As expected from a distinguished historian such as yourself. But allow me to correct you on one aspect…
"The Time Gears are no mere myth. And I shall prove it to you."
We stop at a location called Mystifying Forest. A stretch of woods on the crumpled edges of the Wonder Map, it holds nothing of interest to turn up a profit.
Right away, I am struck with the sense that something is horribly off. A wrongness which punctures the very binary of right and wrong.
I press a hand to the Poke Balls on my belt. My Pokemon are so still they can pass as crystal statues. Even Spiritomb, the rowdiest of the bunch, refuses to come out of its Odd Keystone.
"It's too quiet," Lucian mumbles.
"Follow me," says Charon.
The deeper we wade into the forest, the heavier the silence presses down on our heads. No wind dares to blow in this unusual stillness… In fact, I don't think the wind is even blowing at all.
While I keep a vigil out for any movement in the breathless trees, I accidentally kick a pebble off the path. It skids to the stream and… and stops. Instead of breaking the surface of the water, the pebble floats in the air, suspended like a still frame in a black-and-white movie.
Lucian also notices this, and he takes off his eyeglasses for a closer look. Out of a whim, he glances at his wristwatch.
The minute and hour hands have stopped.
"This can't be broken already," he mutters. "Will had this custom-made."
"Hurry along now, children," Charon calls.
Within the heart of Mystifying Forest is a clearing. A crumbled stone edifice surrounds an indention in the earth which, judging from its bareness, once housed a very important item.
Charon slips the Time Gear into my hands. Compelled by an inexplicable sense of purpose, my feet move to the empty hole where my hands carefully deposit the Time Gear back into the ground.
As if the forest had been choked of its breath, the breeze immediately rushes out of the sky with such ferocity that it almost sweeps me off my feet. Noise explodes like a popped bubble, and soon the pounding in my heart is drowned out by the cries of the cicadas.
Lucian's wristwatch is working again. And the pebble finally falls, creating ripples across the water.
"What the hell just happened?" I gasp.
Charon has been watching me, and when our gazes connect, I catch the faintest glint of amusement in his smile.
"That foolish boy got his hands on something far beyond his mortal comprehension," is his only enigmatic reply.