Hello everyone, it's been a while. A bit longer than I would've liked, yes, but there is good reasoning for it.

Originally, I had intended to just upload the next chapter. However, it turned out to be nearly 30k words and while I know there are plenty of people who see that number and start foaming at the mouth in excitement, it's just not practical to have a chapter that long. I was already pushing it with chapter 13 at 15k words. So, as a solution, I've opted to split this chapter into four sections as it works out to much more reasonable lengths (It also works out for another reason, as I'm sure you'll see). As each section is finished being edited, I'll release them as their own chapter.

There are some drawbacks to this, obviously. For the portions of Matthew's message, I had only planned out the one you see below this. So the rest of chapter sections after will not contain a portion of Matthew's message.

If you wish to read the entire 30k chapter as one, I'd recommend waiting one week as that is when I estimate all the chapter sections will be edited and uploaded.

TL;DR: Chapter got too big, split it into four, sections will be uploaded when they're done

Also, thank you all for 100 favorites! You're all awesome.

With all that out of the way, please enjoy this next chapter!

"It's been… damn, I guess it's been almost nine years now since I got out. And just over thirteen years since I was kidnapped. It's surreal to think it's been that long.

"You might be wondering why I've stayed hidden for all this time and… I wish I could give a good answer, but there isn't one.

"I wanted to do something sooner, anything really. But everything kept weighing on me from Team Saber to Neo to… You get the idea… Nothing that I haven't already mentioned. I was… so afraid of experiencing that day in the Deity Lab again. I just couldn't do anything.

"But it's no excuse. It's taken so long but… I can't stay by the sidelines. I won't. I will prove him wrong. I'm not him. I… I know I'm not. This will show it."

Shali sat on the bed in the spare room, thumbing the tip of her spear. Using her aura sense, she could see Matthew standing just outside the closed bedroom door. He had been standing there for nearly ten minutes now. His aura was a mix of anxiousness and worry, as it had been for most of the day.

He had returned earlier and apologized to her for not saying where he was going. She accepted it, being understanding of the reasoning he had given her. It surprised her when Matthew had told her he went to his father for help; the idea of going to her own father for advice was one that she never even entertained. Still, whatever kind of exchange he and his father had, it had helped.

Matthew was going to stay with her and Brian, and for that she was happy. Though, her happiness had been short-lived as she peered into his aura after he had said that. It was the same aura that she could see now, just behind the door.

He had been distant for the entire day, barely making any contact with her after saying he was staying. The sun had since dived below the horizon and left the room in darkness. Whatever was gnawing away at Matthew, Shali knew it was going to come forth when he entered the room.

She felt perturbed from the situation. Last night and during this morning, Matthew had been stressing about choosing between staying and leaving, and now he was stressing about something different. She hated seeing him like this. She just wanted him to be able to tell her what was happening, no matter what it was. And if there was anything he needed help with, she hoped he would come to her for it.

There was a click from the bedroom door. She looked toward it and laid her spear across her lap. The door opened and Matthew stood in the doorway, giving a weak smile.

"Hey," he said, stepping into the room.

"Matthew are things alright?" she asked, then cursed at herself. She didn't want to come off as forcing him to tell her, even if she wanted him to.

Yet, it didn't make him pause. "Things will be alright. There's just something I need to do first," he said. He pointed at the bed, "Could I...?"

She nodded and moved herself back on the bed until her tail brushed against the headboard. She took her spear off her lap and laid it down beside her.

Matthew walked and sat on the edge of the bed, looking away briefly before turning to her. "Shali, about what I told you earlier-"

"You're not staying?" The answer was on instinct, and she cursed at herself again.

He shook his head, "No, I'm still staying. That's… That's not exactly what I'm here about." He turned away and let out a sigh, gripping his hands on the bed sheets and causing them to scrunch up. "The reason why I'm staying is because you and Brian know my plan, the risks surrounding it, and everything else, and you're okay with all of that."

"Of course we are," she said reassuringly.

"...But that's a lie."

She felt words come to her mouth but immediately swallowed them. A lie? "What?"

Matthew looked back at her. "A lie. It's not true, simple as that," he paused and exhaled, "Well, I guess it's more of a half-truth than anything else."

"What do you mean?" She noticed the worry in her tone and, despite her efforts, she couldn't suppress it.

"I mean that while Brian knows everything, you don't." The smile he had come into the room with was completely gone now. "I… I know how that sounds. And honestly, I didn't even realize that was the case until earlier today. It's not fair for you to stay and not know."

Shali readjusted herself on the bed, moving slightly toward Matthew as she did. "What does Brian know that I don't?"

"He watched the video, the one that I made to warn people of Team Saber. And the same one that I handed out to Cianwood yesterday."

She connected the dots in her head. "And there was something in the message that you haven't told me yet."

"I didn't mean for that to be the case."

"I know. And it's okay." She gave him a smile, hoping to restore the one he had before. It didn't work. "Just tell me now."

Matthew opened his mouth to speak but stopped. He turned his head to the side and looked off to the back corner of the room. With a small groan, he put one hand to his forehead and rubbed it.

A headache, she thought, then realized what was happening. He was talking with Neo. She felt a slight temptation to reach over and touch his shoulder, just to hear what they were talking about, but held herself back. Invading his privacy wouldn't do her any good and wouldn't help Matthew in telling her what she didn't know.

Although, her trust of Neo was far from what she was comfortable with. Even with only that small interaction with him in the pokemon center, she knew that tiny piece of unstable aura talking to Matthew couldn't mean anything positive.

A grimace formed on Matthew's face, and he shut his eyes. "Damn it…" he muttered. He took his hand off his forehead and used his thumb and index finger to rub his eyes. "Shali, I want to tell you everything."

"And you can, Matthew. You know I'll listen."

He took away his fingers and looked at her. "I know. But I want- No, I need to tell you everything," he said, giving weight to his words.

"I thought there was only one thing in the message that you haven't told me?" She tilted her head at him.

"There is, and I'll tell you that, it's just… I just…" His voice trailed off. He pursed his lips and looked away again. "I think you need to know it all."

Shali moved towards him. From how he was acting, this was far worse than what he had been going through last night. At least, it was worse to him. She reached out and put a paw on his shoulder, "If Neo is forcing you to do this–"

"He's not," he snapped, making her flinch. His voice softened immediately, "I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me. Neo… he, I guess, suggested it. But thinking about it… I really think that this is for the best."

She rubbed his shoulder, trying to get any kind of positive reaction from him. "Okay, Matthew. Tell me everything."

"I'm not going to tell you." He shifted himself up on the bed, pulling his legs onto the mattress and going onto his knees. Shali moved back to give him some space. "I'm going to show you."

"Show? What are you going to show me?"

"Memories," he said, laying his hands on his knees, "Memories from the Deity Lab. It'll show everything I want to say. I can show them to you with my psychic."

"Why don't you just tell me?" She shifted onto her knees as well, mirroring him.

"Because…" he looked at her with disquietude, "I don't trust myself to tell everything as it was. This is my first time I've ever shared what happened there with… well, with anyone. If I can't tell you the full truth, then it's not fair to you to stay based on a lie. At least with memories there's nothing I can hide."

Shali could feel some of the unease from Matthew make its way into her but shook it off. This was important. Important to him. He was willing to put himself out there and show her what was happening. "Then show me," she said.

He breathed and nodded, "Alright." His hands began glowing with magenta energy, his palms being the epicenter of the brightness. "Could you come a little closer?"

Shali moved forward until their knees nearly touched. Matthew laid out his hands in front of him with their palms up, their glowing centers illuminating both her and him in magenta. She laid her paws on top of his hands, her eyes focusing on the paw that bore the Aperta symbol.

Connection.

Despite his hands glowing with energy, Shali couldn't feel anything different. There was the comforting warmth coming from them, but not much else.

"Are you ready? There's… a lot in there. If things are too much, just–"

"I am. And I'll be okay," she said, giving an affirming smile.

And to her surprise, Matthew smiled back as well, even if it was a small one. He shut his eyes and slightly closed his hands around Shali's paws. The glowing intensified and Shali suddenly felt something new appear in her mind.

Just as she realized it was a memory, it began to play itself.

Date: December 7th, 2005

Matthew opened his eyes. A groan escaped him as he attempted to move. His entire body felt stiff, as though he had just done a full gym circuit and forgot to stretch after. His vision was slowly coming into focus but the little he could see was just a mosaic of gray, slightly blocked by a few strands of blond hair.

He was lying on the ground. Though, as he tried to use his arms to push himself up, his weight was too much and he collapsed back down, banging his cheek against the cold metal floor.

Where am I? I was walking home from Brian's and… and then… And then nothing. One moment he was just walking on the sidewalk, the next he was waking up in some gray box. Where… am I? Reality began to sink in. He wasn't in his house. He wasn't in Brian's house. He wasn't anywhere he recognized. He suddenly felt panic, and despite his body feeling tired, he could feel his heart pounding harder and harder. Arceus fuck. Where am I? Where the hell am I? What happened to me? Why is my body so tired? Why am I here? All his questions were left unanswered, and his panic spiraled more.

"Hey, you alright, dude?"

The new voice ousted him from his thoughts. It sounded relaxed; a contrast so stark to his own thoughts that he didn't believe he heard it at first.

"Dude? You with me?"

No, he heard it that time. The voice was real. Gathering his strength, he rolled himself onto his back and was immediately blinded by the two exposed fluorescent tube lights on the ceiling of whatever room he was in. He groaned again as he shielded his eyes with his forearm.

"Aw shit, you doing okay?" the voice said. Now, Matthew could put a face to it. Just to the left side of the light was a lanky man that couldn't have been older than Matthew himself. The man had slicked back brown hair and wore a white t-shirt and white pants.

"Not great," Matthew said, rolling over to his stomach and managing to get onto his hands and knees.

The man reached his hand out to Matthew. "I got you."

Matthew took it and he was pulled onto his feet. He stumbled for a moment before standing still, his balance being helped by him still holding the man's hand. Despite how thin the man looked, he had a considerable amount of strength to him. "Thanks."

"No problem, my dude. Your head fuzzy?"

"A bit." He looked around the room he was in. Everything was gray, from the walls to the floor to the ceiling. One of the walls had a door, though with how reinforced it looked, the idea of even trying to open it didn't even form in Matthew's head. The room was small, maybe ten feet in length and width and eight feet in height. If he had been claustrophobic, it would have been his worst nightmare. But with the absence of one fear came the presence of another. "Where are we?"

"Hell if I know. You all good? You're shaking worse than my grandma's washing machine."

"Fine… My body is just tired." He let go of the man's hand and was able to find balance on his own. He only realized now that he was wearing the same white shirt and pants as the man in front of him. Not only that, but his shoes were also gone and he was barefoot. "I… Why am I wearing this? What did we do?"

The man shrugged, "I was just walking around, maybe later than I should have been, yeah, but then a group of pricks jumped me! I don't know what the hell I did but I guess I blacked out and ended up here because of it." He sighed, "It's just weird. I don't know what you or her did, but I guess we're all stuck together now, huh?"

"Her?"

The man pointed behind Matthew. Turning around, he saw a woman huddled up against the wall, black hair draped across her face, obscuring it. The same white shirt and pants. She had her knees tucked close to her body and kept her head between them. From the little of her face that Matthew could see, she also seemed to be around his age. He couldn't hear any noise from her but could see the slight movement from her breathing.

"She woke up after me and before you," the man said as Matthew turned back to him. "I was gonna help her up but… she's been like that for a while now and I don't wanna make it any worse." He stuck out his hand, "My name's Clyde, by the way. Nice to meet you, dude."

"Matthew, and… nice to meet you too," he said, shaking the hand in front of him. Clyde's grip was strong and firm. While panic was still close to the forefront in his mind, at least he didn't have to be alone during it.

Clyde let go of Matthew's hand and stretched his arms over his head, "Fuck, dude. How're we—"

The sound of metal against metal made them both tense. The woman huddling against the wall let out a squeak. Matthew and Clyde's eyes went to the door.

The door swung open, blinding Matthew again with a flood of light. The sound of the door banging against the wall was like a wrecking ball to his eardrums and sent shivers throughout his entire body.

Adjusting to the light, he could see two men in the doorway, both tall and imposing. Their clothes were military-esque and were colored dark and light gray with a pattern like that of an aggron. The uniform covered the entire body. The only exception was their faces that held cold expressions with zero sympathy. On the right side of their chest was an insignia of a sword with a slightly curved blade. Along the blade were the words 'Team Saber.'

Team Saber? Who the hell are they? Matthew thought back to all the different teams he had heard stories of in his life. Rocket, Magma, Aqua, Galactic… but no Saber. These people must be their grunts, or something like that.

Matthew didn't have any more time to think as the grunt on the left pointed at the woman against the wall. The other grunt nodded and walked inside the room. Matthew felt fixed in place as the grunt walked by him and up to the woman. She pulled her knees tighter to her body as he approached.

The grunt reached out and grabbed the woman's arm, yanking it away from holding her knees. The woman screamed. She desperately tried to pull her arm away, but the grunt's grip was tight. She was yanked onto her feet briefly before falling back down to the floor. Her screams echoed in the small room. Matthew tried to cover his ears but found he was still frozen. He couldn't take his eyes off the woman.

Something brushed by him. He realized it was Clyde just as the lanky man was pulling back his fist. It hammered into the grunt's face, sending the man into the wall. The grunt's hand was still latched onto the woman's arm, and her screams only intensified.

"Let her go, you fuck!" Clyde shouted, moving in to deliver another punch.

The grunt by the doorway walked in. Matthew was shoved against the wall as the grunt passed by, finally breaking his frozen stance. The grunt drew a baton from his belt and viciously swung it at the back of Clyde's head.

Matthew felt a gasp escape him as the baton met its mark with a sickening crack. Clyde staggered and stumbled at the blow but didn't go down. The grunt holding the woman released his grip and pulled out his own baton. The woman scampered back to the wall furthest from the door. She stopped screaming but that was promptly replaced with crying.

The two grunts raised both their batons and slammed them repeatedly into Clyde. Not just his head, but his neck, chest, arms, anywhere there was an opening. Clyde held strong for a moment before collapsing to the floor. Still, they didn't let up. As one finished a strike, the other prepared the next. Their faces never deviated from their vacant expressions. It was as though they were machines, and this was the task they were programmed for.

Matthew couldn't stop looking. Everything blurred around him as he zeroed in on Clyde being beaten. The woman's cries were lost to him now. The only noises that broke the tinnitus he could feel setting in were the cracks of batons against Clyde's form. He needed to do something. He needed to stop the grunts and help Clyde. That's what needed to be done. He needed… He needed…

I can't do this.

He was stuck against the wall, watching as the batons came down over and over. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this. Every blow made him flinch. I'm so sorry, Clyde. You don't deserve this, you don't deserve any of this. He was breathless. Make it stop soon. Please just make it stop soon.

The grunts finally ceased their beating. Clyde was motionless. His arms and neck were riddled with purple and red marks. It became deathly quiet in the room. Even the woman was no longer crying and only had a look of shock engraved on her face. Matthew realized his own face likely looked similar.

The batons were put away. Both grunts leaned down to Clyde, one on either side of him. With a quick look between them, each one took a bruise-covered arm and slung it over their shoulders. In a swift motion, they both stood, taking Clyde up with them. Matthew saw his face. It was bloody, bruised, and swollen. His eyes were shut. For a second, Matthew thought Clyde wasn't breathing, but the shallow movement coming from his chest proved that wrong. Thank Arceus he's still alive.

The grunts began walking out of the room, Clyde's feet being dragged between them. They had apparently lost interest in the woman they had come for originally. The grunts stepped outside of the room and as soon as the last bit of Clyde's shoes was out, the door slammed shut. The resounding noise made Matthew's bones quake.

Feeling his legs give out under his weight, he slid down the wall and landed on the floor. He took a breath. It was shaky, deep, and barely stayed in his lungs before it left him. The paralysis he felt was more potent than anything an electric type could dish out.

He didn't do anything. Clyde was there, getting pounded into oblivion, and he just stood there staring. He could've done something. He could've done anything. Maybe it was pointless in trying to stop the grunts, but what if it wasn't? Clyde didn't sit by when the woman was getting pulled away. He punched a grunt. He got beaten to unconsciousness, but he did something. Matthew did nothing. He was disgusted with himself.

A sniffle from the woman caught his attention. He looked over and saw the woman against the wall next to him. Her knees were to her chest and her head between them, just as she was before. Her hands were planted in her hair. She shook slightly as another few sniffles came from her.

Do something.

Matthew breathed in, "Hey… uh… did that grunt hurt you?" His volume was low, almost a whisper.

The woman didn't pause and continued to sniffle.

"Your arm? Did he hurt your arm?" The woman still didn't respond, and Matthew was starting to worry. Had he scared her so much that she wouldn't say anything? Clyde had said he didn't want to help her up in case he made things worse. Matthew cringed. Was that what he was doing right now?

Before he could think about it anymore, the woman spoke up.

"It's… fine," she whispered. Her voice was weak and strained, but audible nonetheless.

Matthew exhaled. He hadn't made things worse. "That's good."

There was a quiet period between them. The woman's sniffles seemed to have lessened by a small amount. Matthew still felt shaky after seeing what had happened with Clyde and was trying to shove those thoughts out.

For a moment, he went to break the silence, then stopped himself. His words had helped, if the little decrease in sniffles was anything to go from, but he needed to be careful.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

The sniffles stopped entirely. Slowly, she raised her head up from her knees and looked at Matthew. She looked defeated. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. "I… I was just walking back home… and…" A few tears dropped. She looked up at the ceiling, "I deserve this…"

He was taken aback by her words. "W-What? That's not true. You don't deserve this at all, neither of us do. You didn't do anything wrong, I didn't either, and neither did Clyde."

"Yes, I do… and yes, I did. I…" She stopped and looked at the ground, a quivering breath escaping her. "Oh, Arceus… Clyde, they… they killed him… They beat him to death." The light above them flickered. "He helped me and they killed him…"

"No, no, Clyde's not dead," he said, putting on a stronger tone. He didn't know if it would help the situation, but he didn't want to sound like he didn't believe what he saw. The light dimmed briefly and then came back. "I saw him breathing when the grunts picked him up. He's hurt, but he's okay."

She didn't respond and put her head back between her knees. There were no sniffles, but the complete quiet didn't feel much more comfortable. The light dimmed for a few seconds this time and took a moment to go back up to full power.

"...Madison," the woman said.

Matthew gave her a nod, "Madison, that's your name, right? Mine is–"

"Matthew. I… I heard it when you were talking before…" She looked up at him, giving him possibly the weakest smile he had ever seen before it was lost, and tears started falling. "I really do deserve this…"

He went to speak but couldn't help getting lost in her expression. It wasn't of fear, or dread, or anything similar. It was acceptance.

"Madison, you don't deserve this. You–"

"Yes. I do," she said, a sudden firmness coming from her. She turned away and looked at the door. Tears were flowing, but her expression didn't waver. "My boyfriend… all that time… I couldn't take it anymore. I–"

The door swung open again, slamming against the wall so hard that both Matthew and Madison jolted. The light from outside shone onto Madison's face, making her tears glint. A shadow promptly followed, and in the doorway were two towering figures. Grunts again, different from the ones before.

The two grunts wasted no time and stepped in, their faces expressionless. One of them stood by the door, just as they did before, and the other started on a warpath. The latter grunt ignored Matthew entirely. Instead, the grunt stared straight forward. Right at Madison.

Whatever semblance of acceptance she had dissolved. Her eyes widened and she trembled as the grunt approached. Her mouth opened, but no sounds came out except for a quivering breath. Matthew felt frozen.

The grunt reached out and grabbed her arm. Now there was a sound; a scream echoed around the room. Matthew swore it sounded louder than the door. Madison was yanked up from her sitting position onto her feet, but she let her legs fall limp, removing any option of easy travel. The grunt hardly took notice of her resistance and turned around, beginning to drag her out of the room.

"Matthew!" Madison yelled.

He felt the freezing grip begin to melt. No. He couldn't let this happen again. He couldn't do nothing again. His mind shouted at him.

Do something.

Matthew stood up against the wall, trying to steady his breathing as best he could. Then, he ran forward, reaching his arm out toward Madison. With her free arm, she reached out as well. Their hands connected with the other's wrist.

Madison tried to pull away from the grunt, leaning into Matthew as she did. He wrapped his free arm around her abdomen and pulled more. The grunt's movements slowed then stopped. Neither Madison nor Matthew let up and continued pulling harder. Madison began screaming more out of exertion than fear. Matthew found himself doing the same. And slowly, they began gaining ground.

Come on. Come on. Just a bit more. Matthew pulled harder. He could feel Madison's nails digging into his wrist, but he hardly felt any pain. They pulled hard and harder. The grunt slid back more. We got this, Madison. We'll be okay.

The grunt by the door moved towards them, bringing out his baton as he did. No, no, no! Matthew pulled as hard as he could, dragging him and Madison a couple more inches back, but her arm was still locked in the grip. The grunt from the door raised his baton, lowered it, then jabbed it forward. Into Matthew's right eye.

The effect was instant, and Matthew's grip loosened. His arm came undone from Madison's belly. Her nails tore at his wrist as her hand was pulled away from his. He fell to the floor, a hand to his eye and howling in agony.

"Matthew! No! Matthew!" Madison cried out. His head facing the floor, Matthew could only hear the sound of her shoes dragging on the floor get further away.

"Matthew! Ma-!"

The door slammed shut.

Silence.

Then a noise. A long, trembling sob as Matthew laid his forehead on the floor. His hand left his injured eye and clenched into a fist. He pounded it down. A stinging sensation ran through his knuckles, stunning him only for a moment before raising his fist up and punching at the floor again.

He kept going, each punch making his knuckles sting more. He held in his sobs as best he could but eventually stopped trying. Tears fell in between punches. None were from pain.

His punching continued until his other arm gave out and he collapsed to the floor. He didn't try to get back up. The sobbing stopped, but he still cried. The room felt like it had grown ten times as large.

I'm sorry, Madison. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. You don't deserve this, please know that. You don't deserve any of this. He looked down at his arm that he had been hitting the ground with. His right eye ached and felt entirely too big for its socket, but he could make out his injuries. Three long scrapes that deepened into bloody cuts were drawn from his wrist all the way to his knuckles. The knuckles themselves were bruised heavily. The red and purple marks that were speckled about reminded him of Clyde's body.

Fuck. Clyde, you didn't deserve that. Neither did you, Madison. Why are they doing this to us? Why? Why? What did we do to deserve this? He felt the panic from before making a return.

Team Saber… What are they? A team he had no knowledge of until just minutes ago had done all this. They had kidnapped him, locked him away and– Oh Arceus, what are they going to do with me? Where did they drag the others off to?

The light flickered. Matthew shivered, tears still falling. Team Saber didn't care about him or Madison or Clyde. The light dimmed. If they did, they wouldn't have jabbed, dragged, or beaten any of them. They were after something else. Something bigger. The light dimmed, then went dark. His vision turned black and he inhaled sharply. Then, the light returned, letting him release his breath.

He looked up. The room was empty. Everywhere he looked was just another shade of gray. Ten times as large? No, it felt more like a hundred times as large now. He was just a speck, trapped in a gray void that seemed to stretch further in every direction he looked, waiting to be taken by Team Saber to Arceus knows where just like the others before him. That is what he was.

He felt something. It was cold and choking, like a snowfall so dense that he couldn't breathe. Yet he couldn't fight it off, and ultimately, stopped trying to. What he was feeling had always taken a backseat to panic, but now it took the vanguard. He knew what that something was: Hopelessness.

Matthew stared down at the floor. When Clyde was being beaten, he had done nothing. When Madison was being dragged away, he did do something, but it didn't matter in the end. It doesn't matter, he thought, I could have done something about Clyde, I could have done nothing about Madison. In the end, it would have all been the same. 'Do something.' I can't do anything. He felt revolted with himself, only for a moment, before it faded away. Team Saber had taken every ounce of his hope. Not bit by bit, but in efficient chunks. Now he was alone. Inside the room, there was only him and one prominent thought that echoed in his mind.

I can't do anything.

He heard the door open, not even flinching at the noise it made. His head came up on its own and looked into the light that was pouring onto him.

Instead of two grunts, there was only one standing in the doorway. No point in sending two for just one guy. He was taller than the ones that came before, his black hair that was tamed to a crew cut nearly brushing the top of the door. Unlike the other grunts, this one actually had an expression. It was weary and grudging, as though he was forced to be here.

"Come easy or come unconscious. Your choice," he said. His voice was tired, much like his face. Matthew felt mild surprise. He didn't think that the grunts were capable of talking. At least this one didn't act like a machine.

I can't do anything. He stood up and walked towards the grunt, angling his eyes down at the floor. As soon as he was at the doorway, the grunt stepped to the side, finally giving Matthew a view of what was outside the room.

It was a hallway, somewhat wide and completely white. So white that with the light coming from above, his eyes almost stung from the intensity. Across from him, he could see many metal doors that looked identical each other. It felt like the strangest combination of a hospital and a prison. Though, he felt more of the latter than the former.

His left arm was grabbed and pinned to his back. His right arm followed suit. They were both held in place by one of the grunt's hands. He didn't try to resist. It didn't even occur to him that he could've run down the hallway as soon as the grunt stepped out of the way. I can't do anything.

"Turn right and start moving," the grunt said, pushing forward on Matthew's pinned arms.

Matthew stepped out, turning right as instructed. The hallway seemed to stretch on for miles, sparsely populated with grunts and people in white coats. He was about to start moving when the grunt behind him pushed forward, making him stumble. After gaining his balance back, he began walking.

The other people walking the halls, each one wearing a Team Saber insignia somewhere on their garments, paid little attention to him. Some offered a brief glance, but nothing more. They didn't seem to care at all that an eighteen year old was being led to some random destination. Or maybe they did know where he was being taken and didn't care regardless.

Matthew felt himself go into autopilot. He just kept moving forward, putting one foot in front of the other. Occasionally, the grunt holding him would give him a push if he was too slow or a pull if he was too fast, and he would adjust accordingly. There was a brief thought of trying to rip his hands away and make a break for it, but he couldn't find the will to try it. I can't do anything. And so, he continued down the hallway, barely noticing his surroundings until he was jerked off to the right side by the grunt. After shaking his head and blinking a few times, he looked up.

Something was coming down the hallway. There were two grunts around it, one at the front and back. Whatever it was, it appeared to be on wheels and they were moving it. Their pace was swift and steady.

With it coming closer, Matthew could make out a few more details. The two grunts were moving a stretcher, one that wouldn't be out of place in an ambulance. They approached even closer, and Matthew saw that there was someone lying on the stretcher. He felt lightheaded as he took in the details of that someone. Tall and lanky, a white shirt, slicked back brown hair–

Oh no.

Clyde's mouth was slack. His eyes were glassy, bloodshot, and didn't blink at all. There wasn't any movement from his body. No hands moving, no chest rising and falling, not even the smallest twitch.

He's dead.

And like that, the stretcher passed by them. The grunt attempted to pull Matthew back to the center of the hallway, but Matthew's legs gave out and he fell to the floor, making the grunt release his grip.

Matthew couldn't move. Oh Arceus, he's dead. Clyde's fucking dead. He couldn't breathe and made no effort to. His system was in shock, trying to force Clyde's lifeless face out of his memory but failing on every front. Team Saber killed him. He thought he would cry, but his head was in a haze and his body couldn't interpret any of his emotions. Everything was a mess.

"Get up. Now," the grunt demanded.

Somehow, Matthew found strength and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. "Why?" he said, turning his head around to face the grunt. Matthew felt his body tense. There was something cutting through the haze. Something that was burning white-hot and agitated him ceaselessly. It burned away the rest of the haze and made good company with his hopelessness. It was anger.

"Why are you doing this?!" Matthew yelled, "Why? Clyde didn't do anything wrong! He fucking didn't! He didn't deserve to be killed. So why?! What did he do? What did I do? What did we do to deserve this?!"

The grunt stared back at him, only giving the slightest bit of sympathy. "I'm just a hired mercenary, kid. You were just unlucky, same as the others. Sorry, but that's all it is. Stop thinking about it so hard."

I was unlucky? I was unlucky? He wanted to yell more, but the anger was overwhelming, and combined with the hopelessness, all he could do was take in ragged and shallow breaths through clenched teeth.

"Get up. Don't make this any harder."

He wanted to make it harder, but his mind was still dominated by that one thought. I can't do anything. That thought alone made his anger burn brighter, though not enough to break through. He stood up, and his arms were immediately pinned to his back again.

They kept moving. Matthew stewed in his thoughts as the seemingly never-ending hallway went on and on. Every door, wall, patch of ceiling, it all looked the same. Nothing broke up the monotony. He could have been walking for seconds, minutes, hours, it all blended together. His anger never diminished, and that was all that he focused on.

Suddenly, the grunt pulled him back hard. They had stopped. Matthew looked up to see something new. Instead of the metal doors from before, there was a pair of white doors that didn't appear to have any knob, handle, or lock to them. The question of how they opened was answered when they split and slid into the wall, exposing the room behind them.

Two grunts stepped out of the room. Between them was another stretcher and–

Fuck!

He only caught a glimpse of the person on the stretcher before it passed him and went down the hall. It was enough. Madison's hair was splayed out over the head of the stretcher, vignetting her face that held all the same features that Clyde's had with the addition of a large bruise on her cheek.

Madison, I… I'm so sorry. His legs began to give under his weight, but he was hardly given any time to fall as the grunt pushed him forward, forcing him through the open doors.

It was greater than anger at that point. It was a bubbling, scorching, erratic ball of rage that was only just being contained. Unlucky? Madison was unlucky? It doesn't matter if she was the unluckiest person in the world, she didn't deserve that. She deserves to live, just the same as Clyde. But they took that. Team Saber took that away from them. He seethed, barely noticing the person walking up to him.

"Ah, very good. Thank you for bringing the third subject so punctually, Colvin. You're free to go now," the man in front of Matthew said. He was thin faced with sunken eyes and a mess of black hair on his head. His smile was small, unassuming, and yet unnerved Matthew to no end. He wore a sterile white coat that gave Matthew the impression that he was a doctor, but the type that only appeared in children's nightmares.

Two more grunts came from either side of Matthew and grabbed him by his shoulders. His arms were finally unpinned from his back, but with how firmly they were pressed against his sides, he only lost maneuverability.

"Bring him over. Let's hope that three time's a charm," the doctor said, stepping away from Matthew.

The two grunts on Matthew's sides pushed forward, dragging his feet briefly before he found his step. The room was small, but extremely dense. All around him were scientists dutifully working away on several control consoles and monitors. And in the center was a chair that looked like it belonged in a dental clinic, though it was outfitted with straps on every segment of it.

The grunts brought him to the chair and before Matthew realized it, he was shoved into it. Instantly, they went to work strapping his limbs down. Legs. Arms. Chest. And finally, neck. I can't do anything.

The doctor walked up to Matthew, peering at him with intrigue. "How curious. You seem so much more dismal than the second subject and so much less injured than the first," the doctor said, letting out a laugh. He turned to the scientists behind him, "Please note down that the subject has a periorbital hematoma on his right eye."

Clyde and Madison were not your fucking subjects. But he didn't say that. His rage was still being contained, albeit barely. "Who… are you?"

"I wouldn't say it matters much who I am. We are simply two different people in two different positions. I am The Doctor, and you are my patient."

"Your patient...? For what?"

The Doctor smiled, "For the benefit of all humans." A scientist walked up to The Doctor and handed him a syringe. Its contents were magenta, and it had the consistency of syrup. The Doctor flicked the barrel of the syringe a few times before zeroing in on Matthew's left arm. "You're going to feel a pinch."

Matthew's breathing stopped completely as he felt the needle go into his arm. As the plunger went down and the contents drained from the syringe, he pushed himself to speak. "Why… are Clyde and Madison dead?" He hardly got through their names before he felt tears beading, "If… If this is for all humans… why not them too?"

The Doctor took the needle out of his arm. "Well, there's bound to be some failures when one is bringing about humankind's ascension. The previous two were of that category. Rather unfortunate, but let's see if you can handle it, hmm?"

Failures? They were failures? His breathing quickened. No. They weren't. They were people. And you killed them. His fists clenched so tight that he swore his knuckles would break through the skin. They had lives and you killed them. You killed Clyde. He didn't deserve it. You killed Madison. She didn't deserve it either. He glared at The Doctor. You're a monster. You don't care at all. None of you do. Their lives meant nothing to you. They meant nothing. How fucking dare you?

In the furnace of his mind, his hopelessness and anger alloyed together to become something dark and malignant: Hatred.

Whatever restraints his rage had been contained in, they were no more. Hate had no restrictions.

"You fucker!" Matthew shouted, jerking forward in the chair. The straps held his body, but not his voice. "You're horrible! All of you are!" He looked around at all the scientists, "You're all fucking monsters! Clyde and Madison were people! Not failures!"

The Doctor nonchalantly nodded and turned to the scientists, "Please begin the procedure."

"Their lives were worth something, damn it! And you just threw them away. You better fucking make sure you kill me because if you don't, I'll–!"

A sudden surge of electricity coursed through him, sending his muscles into a spasm. His scream tore at his throat. The shock was brief, but the pain remained even after a few seconds.

What was that? But before he could begin to think about an answer, another shock. It was worse than one before, and screaming through the raw flesh in his throat made it even more agonizing. He could feel his skin burning. His heart was beating out of his chest, sounding like a haywire metronome in his ears. Murky blackness began taking over his eyes.

I'm going to die, but they don't care about that. I'll just be another failure to them. Failure? No. No. I'm not a failure, and neither were Clyde or Madison. He felt his hatred explode with the force of a nuclear bomb. But these people? Team Saber? They aren't even human. No human could do this. Humankind's ascension? How can they even convince themselves of that? They don't care about me. They didn't care about the others. They don't care at all. Whatever punishment Arceus has for them in the afterlife, it isn't enough. Nothing could ever be enough. They are horrible, malicious, sadistic monsters and I want to k–

There was another shock, and his vision went black.

…But he was still there?

Matthew opened his eyes. Instead of seeing the room with The Doctor and all the other scientists, it was a jet-black landscape. The chair was gone as well, and his limbs were free to move. He was standing on something. The ground? It seemed like it, but it was all the same black color in every direction.

He could see his arms and legs, and they moved as normal. Moreover, he was still clothed completely. For the second time of the day, Matthew found himself wondering: Where am I?

This time, however, he figured it out quickly. I'm dead. That final shock completely fried my system. This is the afterlife, isn't it?

A cold chill ran up his spine and he looked behind him. Standing there was a shadowy figure who was darker than the landscape around it. It had no facial features, making Matthew question if it was facing him. That was answered by the figure stepping towards him, its movements smooth and almost elegant.

"Who are you?" Matthew said.

It continued to walk until it was just a few steps away from him. The figure stuck its hand out. "I am Neo," it said with a genderless tone,

Neo? He had never heard of any 'Neo' overseeing the afterlife. Arceus and Giratina, yes, but never 'Neo.' "Am… Am I dead?"

"No, but you will be."

The temperature around him suddenly lowered. It was fast at first but began slowing down. But it wasn't just the cold. His head felt light, and a weakness became apparent in his limbs. He could still stand, although barely. It was all becoming apparent to him. He was still alive, but that would only be true for a short time. "No, I… I don't want to die," he said, taking a breath, "What can I do to stop it?"

The figure motioned its hand toward Matthew's own. "Take it, and all will be resolved."

Matthew looked at the figure's hand. I am not going to die. I am not just another failure. And I will show Team Saber that. They are going to learn what they've done wrong. They deserve everything that is coming to them. I will make sure of it. I will k–

He didn't think any more about it. He grabbed the hand.

The figure glowed bright, and its light seemed to dispel all the coldness and weakness from Matthew's body. Despite how intense the light was, he couldn't look away from it. And when it finally dimmed, he was sure his eyes were playing a trick on him.

He felt like he was looking at a mirror. The figure had turned into him, copying almost every detail perfectly with the exceptions being his hair that had turned white and wild, and his eyes which were a piercing magenta.

It smiled at him, "Good luck."

Everything went white.

Remember to fav/follow and review!

Peace!

-Minusbomb