Ascension

by The BlackStaff and NightMarE

Mawile just wanted to see the world. If that meant getting shackled to some human, so be it. No one told her that she'd need to fight dragons, deal with world-ending events, and keep her dopey trainer from collecting all sorts of useless team members. Well, at least she had her pokepuffs...

21. ACT2CH4 - Crossroads of Twilight

Ascension

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ACT TWO - DUST OF DREAMS

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Chapter 4 - Crossroads of Twilight

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Existence has a purpose. Always.

Anger cannot exist without cause or recipient.

Sorrow cannot be comprehended without joy, nor can apathy be appreciated without attachment.

Emotion has meaning— both cause and effect.

Anger. Contempt. Frustration. Envy. Apathy. Fear.

All such qualities existed within it.

But the primary emotion it felt was despair.

Despair— To be without hope.

A concept that assumes its opposite— hope or ideals —must also exist. It is only when the assumed hope is lost and inverted that despair can be birthed. Therefore it is always a secondary concept, one which none carry when first born into this world.

One can also describe despair as the potential energy released when falling from the heights one has obtained. Its quantity equals the difference, which is to say it is predetermined by how high one's hopes or lofty one's ideals are.

The more blinding one's hope, the denser and vaster the darkness of despair that follows its loss.

And yet her despair existed without cause, without reason.

Without hope or ideal.

Isn't that unfair?

---

In the beginning, there was just a little blob.

Humans are known for their propensity to color everything. Their bodies, their houses, their dens, their lives, their beliefs…

Considering its origins, it was only fitting that it was colored as well.

It had no name but it liked to think of itself as Dark. Dark like sedimented blood. Dark like the blackness of the night sky.

Dark like a growing pit of despair.

Dark like the emotions of the nine-year-old human that led to its creation.

And it was this darkness that gave it purpose for its existence.

A creation, an entity, a blob of the deepest, darkest emotions originating from the bottomless trenches of the human mind and soul. Born through the foolishness of an empathic creature that should have known better than to ignore her instincts. Sustained from the emotional pain of a humanling whose sorrows the empathic creature could not look away from. Given form by the creature's own sense of right and wrong.

And thus, it was born.

Unlike a human whose concept of emotion was closely tied to memory or impression, a kirlia dealt with such differently. For a kirlia, emotion was a quantifiable object. It had objective value and meaning to it. She could comprehend feeling happy without anything occurring to cause said happiness. For a kirlia, emotions, or rather, positive emotions were sustenance.

And negative emotions, by the same rule, were a little short of poison. Uncomfortable in small doses, and potentially lethal in larger amounts.

And as such, the sweet innocent kirlia decided to do the safe thing. The makeshift bond, created as a solution for her problems, worked precisely the way she wanted it to. Despite his apparent youth, the humanling was a growing pit of darkness. Darkness that the kirlia had to leach out before she could pour happiness in its place.

And what better place to dump it all than the unused, deep, dark trenches of her mind?

And so she did.

First came an unwavering sense of unwantedness. But unlike the gardevoir-line, human emotions were subjective. They latched onto meanings, to essences, to thoughts and memories.

The loneliness, for example, latched onto the memories of a child waiting for his mother to come home. Unfilled wishes and hopes for the bonding between parent and offspring. Fumes of rejection upon having his dreams shattered.

Then came an overwhelming sense of frustration. His dreams had been crushed yet his spirit was still strong. He knew his mother would not see him for himself. Thus, he did his best to mold himself to fit in a way to make himself appealing. To make himself identifiable. He molded himself like his mother.

And still, they fell short before her apathy.

Frustration turned into a twisted acceptance of defeat.

Acceptance allowed loathing to crawl in.

Loathing led to resentment and scorn.

The kirlia shoved it all away. Allowed the riptide to condense into a vortex of tumultuous, turbulent mixture of feelings. The memories and thoughts were indigestible, so she pushed them into the churning meshwork as well. The mind of a psychic, and the esoteric links of a fairy was a nutritious matrix for the blob to feed. To grow.

To thrive.

And so it did.

Had she known what she had been doing, perhaps she would have chosen to stay by her instincts. The same instincts that had warned her from getting close to her human friend. The same instincts she suppressed to be with Red.

The instincts that the blob later seeped into, and corrupted into its own extension.

Instincts that would be replaced by dark, crimson tendrils rising out of her mindscape, twisting into her very thoughts and emotions.

Instincts that would tell her that suffering was sweet.

---

Red will save me.

Mia repeated the words to herself, again and again, the thought her only solace in this hellish space. It could have been hours, it could have been years— deep within her mindscape, time had already lost meaning. The dark-crimson tendrils that had risen from the ground kept her chained and bound, a prisoner of her own mind.

You will not break me.

Kirlia were not known for their rationality. As something that fed off emotion, a kirlia's commitments to anything was dependent on the emotions that were provided. As long as their associate stayed happy, they were happy. But the moment misfortune struck them, a kirlia wouldn't think twice before deserting her trainer.

There was a reason why humans didn't bother with the capturing or training of the gardevoir line. Its selfish nature was well-documented in human history after all.

It wasn't shallow. It was simply their nature.

Happiness attracted them, made them dance around it like a ribombie. Sadness similarly, drove them away. It was instinctual, driving them on the most primal levels. Rationality was an alien concept to them, and the concept of emotional bonds would probably be thought of as naive. Kirlia fed on emotions. To hope that something like that would act on emotions was foolishness at best.

A tauros didn't feel for the grass beneath its hooves.

But she wasn't just a kirlia. After all, like Red had said, she was Mia.

And if Mia wasn't a kirlia, then what right did the instincts of a kirlia have to judge what Mia could, or couldn't have?

It had been so simple.

Back then, she had no idea what she was doing. She had no clue what it was that she was tinkering with. A human mind processed emotions the human way. Emotions lingered to memories. To thoughts. They weren't objective. They weren't sustenance.

For her, it was simply a case of identifying what was food and what wasn't. For a human, it was far deeper. And in tinkering with it, she had conceived this impossibility. This blob.

Back then, she had been only too happy to dump it somewhere in the eternal darkness of her mindscape, never to see it again. For all intents and purposes, it was garbage. Then Red had deserted her for that other fairy, and left for his journey. Without her.

The initial days had been somewhat uncomfortable, but as time passed, she had begun to sense the unnaturalness of the situation. She had begun to miss Red, miss his presence, miss the feeling of having her happiness pushed into the bond.

She missed making him happy.

She missed dragging his sadness out.

And dare she say it, she missed feeling all that negativity he experienced.

It was almost like a drug. And Mia wanted more of it.

She had tried several alternatives. She visited places Red used to frequent. It didn't work. She played her own memories of Red in her mind. It didn't work. She tried pushing happiness into the bond.

It didn't work.

And with the growing frustration, came a growing sense of anxiety, of need.

Of Hunger.

Mia couldn't help herself, and thus, she turned to the one thing she'd never have considered otherwise.

The garbage.

The swirling mass of twisted, negative emotions. Memories, sorrow, darkness. It was repulsive and scary and poisonous, but like any addict, Mia knew better.

She always knew better.

So she welcomed it.

Welcomed the very antithesis of what defined a kirlia.

Welcomed the abomination that should have been an impossibility from the very beginning.

Welcomed something that despite being a product of Red's darkest thoughts, had been nourished and nurtured by her own mindscape.

With open arms.

And Red, with all his sorrow, all his fears, all of his deepest, darkest secrets…

He flowed into her.

It was… sublime.

It was like him being back all over again. Like Time had frozen over, and allowed that one peaceful moment to loop forever.

Mia had never felt that ecstasy before.

She never noticed the dark crimson tendrils slowly growing from her mindscape.

She never noticed them until it was way too late.

If only she had….

Having second thoughts? Nostalgia is a good way to ignore one's problems. Apparently it's a human thing. Keeps oneself deluded and able to forget the pain.

Mia scrunched up her face. Her body was immobile as ever, and the blob was back. Only this time she appeared in full glory, a twisted image of a Kirlia— dark violet hair replacing the usual bright green, and the skirt made entirely of flickering shadows.

Mia wondered why the blob chose to imitate her. Perhaps it was trying to prove itself better than her? A cheap imitation trying to outscore the original, except…

Except…

Except for that strange inversion of shades and the black theme. A part of her couldn't help but admit that this new color theme looked far more appealing than her present self.

…

…

Mia hated how her own mind had begun to betray her.

The blob— the other Mia —laughed.

Even one's own emotions can turn traitor. To oneself. The heart works in mysterious ways.

It paused for a moment, as if considering its words.

Or so I'm told.

Mia hated the childishly gleeful tone that this abomination chose to take. She would have turned away, not wanting to continue to stare at the mimicry in front of her.

Unfortunately, that choice was not hers to make. Lacking control over her own body, all she could do was wait till it got bored of tormenting her.

Until then she could do nothing.

You know… all of this could have been much easier. Much… smoother. If only you had been a bit more cooperative.

Why tie me up if all you wanted is to talk? Mia thought ruefully.

The tendrils over her mouth loosened and crawled away, as did the ones on her waist. Almost mechanically, Mia was pushed upward into a sitting posture, the entirety of her legs and waist sunk beneath the crimson matrix surrounding her.

Better?

"This place is… gross." Mia mumbled distastefully. "Obviously you are very different from me, if this is your idea of a nice place to talk. This is worse than growlithe dung!"

The imitation smiled, its demeanour was almost like a queen stepping into her throne room. She had vague memories of elder Gardevoir— the mothers that bonded to the rest —behaving as such back when she lived amidst the cherry-blossoms.

Mia cast a wary glance at the tendrils writing in the liquid, knowing very well that those things could kill her in a heartbeat if the imitation wanted them to do so, before looking back at the creature in front of her.

"So what do you want to… talk about?"

You are needlessly antagonistic towards me. You might despise me, but I am born of you. This mindscape… it churned me out. It enriched me, nourished me.

It smiled, a veneer of civility on its face. It was almost beautiful.

You are my mother, after all.

Mia did not respond.

The last thing I want is to hurt you. I tried to put you to sleep, but you fought me. I did everything I could to not hurt you.

And yet you still keep fighting me.

Mia felt the single thread— the one that connected her to Red— pulse powerfully a second time.

Any time now.

All I need is your help with a very simple thing. An extremely important, but simple thing.

"So this talk… is a way to convince me?" Mia frowned.

Is it working? The imitation seemed upbeat. If not, I'll have to force you to do my bidding. I'm sorry.

It certainly didn't sound apologetic.

"You'll try." She didn't know why, but with every passing moment, she felt her confidence increase. Perhaps it was because she was not bound anymore.

She glanced at her lower body.

Well… not completely bound anyway.

At least she knew that Red was responding. He'd be there soon.

Red will save me. I just…. I just have to last till then.

This is my world. The imitation spread her arms outward. I control everything here. Nothing escapes my vision. Not even that delirious thought that Red will come and save you.

And just like that, the facade of composure drained from Mia's face.

Yes, Red is coming for you. You got that bit right. The imitation went on gleefully, almost like a little girl boasting about a newly-acquired toy.

What? Did you think that it was a random chance that allowed you to connect with him? An opportunity perhaps, from the one you care for?

Its smirk deepened.

You cannot fight my will. Try as you might, you will find no victory here. I am the future. The culmination of your innocence and Red's darkness. You may resist if you please, but brute force and stubbornness cannot alter destiny.

"So I should just give up? To a thing like you?" Mia spat, tilting her head slightly to glance at the surrounding tendrils. "I refuse to die like this. Red will save me."

Perhaps.

For some reason, the thoughtful look upon the imitation's face failed to bring her any form of reassurance.

But then again, I don't want you to die in the first place. No, Red can save you as much as he likes.

"But you said—"

The question is though…. The imitation trailed off maliciously. How will he save himself?

"What…. What do you mean?" Mia's eyes widened fearfully.

I did say that I am born of you. You nourished me, and made me what I am. And yet, I am everything you are not. While your mind birthed me, you took the pieces from somewhere else. If you are my mother…. then Red is…

Mia widened her eyes, flabbergasted. "You…. oh no!"

See? The grin on its face was contagious. You are already starting to think like me. I told you— we are so very much alike.

---

It didn't seem real, the way things had turned out.

Delia knew that she hadn't been the perfect mother. She had never claimed to be one. In the last fourteen years since his conception, Delia had always given her work a greater priority than her child. His child. There had been days when she craved to know the person's identity that had done this to her. To give a name to the wrongness.

Not for vengeance, but for catharsis.

Delia knew that her entire thought process was twisted, but what wasn't? At least with a name, she'd be able to replace that looming shadow with the picture of an ordinary man. The wraith in the darkness would vanish, leaving behind a name, an individual, something she could blame.

For everything that she had suffered.

For everything that Red had suffered.

"Delia?"

Delia broke out of her reverie, glancing at her professor who stood beside her. Instantly, the thoughts were buried as an overwhelming sense of anxiety gripped her. "Is he— is he okay?"

Oak seemed slightly conflicted, something that didn't assuage her fears.

"Professor?"

"He's… fine. For all intents and purposes, he's just… asleep."

"Comatose?"

Oak shook his head. "No."

"Then?"

Oak paused a moment, as if looking for the word that described Red's situation.

"... not comatose. His body is still responding to stimuli. Heat, pain, pressure, light… all of his senses are reacting like they should for someone awake but…"

"But what!" Delia demanded impatiently. The professor had a horrible habit of trailing off in the most inopportune circumstances.

"His brain waves suggest he's in REM Sleep. He's dreaming. Quite vividly, I may add."

"Then why won't he wake up?" Delia asked, confusion spreading across her face.

Oak threw his hands up. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It means I don't know!" Oak snapped. "Brain activity says he's dreaming. His body movements show he's not in a coma, and yet… he wouldn't wake up." He paused, "He did say he was having headaches, right? Perhaps something to do with it?"

"I doubt it," Delia looked away, her face scrunched up. "Even back then when we were talking, he was uncomfortable. Almost like he wasn't here for some of it. It was very minor though, and possibly an effect from his treatment."

"Mild discomfort, slight headaches," Oak mused. "And then this? Something doesn't add up here."

"Neither of us noticed anything wrong. He was fine until you left." Delia Swallowed. "But then..."

"Then what?" Oak pressed.

"When you left me with him, he was… shaking, no, spasming, as if being near me was causing him physical pain."

"Delia, are you sure you are not seeing phantoms when there are none to see?"

"I know what I saw, sir," Delia stressed, "I know. I may not have been the best parent, but my instincts are still sharp. You remember the Baetylus, don't you?"

Oak arched an eyebrow. "And here I thought you had chosen to forget your past."

"Can't forget the very thing that made me change, can I?" Delia looked troubled. "Even when I entered the room earlier, he— he was uncomfortable, on an instinctual level. Almost as if," she looked up, "as if my very presence was repulsive to him."

"Delia—"

"And then again and again— he snapped at me and— I was only trying to help but when I tried to get close he yelled at me." Tears were forming in her eyes now. "He told me to stay away."

"Red… has always been fond of his personal space," Oak began.

"You don't understand," Delia forced, "He didn't speak those words."

That stopped Oak on his tracks.

Delia swallowed, her gaze never leaving the man's eyes, "He didn't say it out loud. It was like— it was like getting hit by a brick wall. A wall of rejection, like… like I was unwanted and didn't understand him and should stay out of things I don't understand just like..."

Delia trailed off, before swallowing hard.

"...just like Mia."

---

The imitation had conjured a pastry, before proceeding to slowly nibble into it. Mia was a little sad that this still wasn't the most surreal thing that had happened ever since her… abduction into this strange dream-world.

But still… Why did it have to be a pastry? Why not something she hated? Like… like lettuce? The imitation was her polar opposite— the darkness to her light. Sorrow for her happiness. Even the colours were inverted. The swirling abyss of dark tendrils kept writing all around her, almost like a faithful growlithe— ready to strike her down at the first suspicion of hostility.

Technically this is my mind as well. Mia reminded herself.

The main problem was that she never exercised any control over it. She did not know how. Kirlia were empathetic creatures. What good was something as orderly and structured as a mindscape to her? She swam in a sea of emotions. Trotting in the mind's meadows were more suited to more structured psychics.

Like… Kaz.

The thread pulsed again. More powerfully than ever before.

Mia swallowed. Moments ago, she'd have been exhilarated. But now, with the revelation that this imitation had allowed her to connect to read intentionally, she wasn't so sure.

It's about time. The imitation spoke gleefully, taking another small bite of the pastry— not that Mia was staring or anything.

"What?"

Feigning ignorance. My father has been a bad influence on you. It chuckled. He has arrived. Meeting his child after all this time… and that too without a gift?

It scowled, the expression just as fake as everything else.

That cannot be allowed. I'll have my gift.

The imitation turned right, gazing into the abyss that was Mia's mindscape. The tendrils slowly started to twist and writhe, losing their opacity. They spasmed and contorted until they were semi-transparent.

It was like looking through a glass window. A mist-adorned window with fractured panes. And on the other side, stood Red. Only he wasn't alone. He was there in his room, getting his knee mended by his mother, while desperately trying to tell his mother something about the Garry kid.

Isn't it beautiful?

Mia mused that in a twisted perspective, such a thing could be called Art. Then again, it wasn't like she had any hopes for this imitation. A part of her felt her spirits rise at seeing Red in front of her, regardless of whatever was happening to him. She hated it, but still… she couldn't help but feel good deep inside her.

Like she had been rejoined with something that was a part of her. After a long, long time. To think that all of this was part of some twisted, diabolical plan crafted by this imitation made her grit her teeth in anger.

And yet, it was almost surreal how despite everything that had happened, the greatest emotions she could feel was irritation.

Annoyance with the imitation.

Not for what it had done to her. Not for whatever sinister agendas it had. But for existing.

It was as if every single fibre of her being wanted to deny its existence more than anything else.

"What do you want?" She ground out at last, her face contorted into a deep scowl.

Me? The imitation grinned. Only the sweetest thing in the world, of course.

And then the screams began.

---

"Have there been any developments, doctor?"

The medic, who was talking to a couple of nurses, murmured something to them before walking up to the veteran professor. "Professor Oak, I'm surprised to find you here in person."

"Two days have passed and Red hasn't woken."

"He is currently under stasis." The doctor explained, glancing at the two patients inside the glass chamber, the translucent dome constructed around the kirlia being the only thing keeping her away from the rest of the world. "I must say, despite my forty years of practice, this is entirely a novel situation. Even for me."

Oak regarded the medic in front of him. Leff Flauros was one of the most accomplished surgeons in Kanto, as far as psychic treatment was considered. The man had devoted several decades of his life in the comprehension of the psychic-type, to the point of being considered an authority on the subject, at least from a researcher point of view. He had pioneered the research of psychic therapy, before becoming a full-time surgeon for Cerulean City. A few years later, and he hand ended up holding the Chair of Neuroscience at Pewter General.

It was Flauros's presence, amongst other things, that had led to his decision about bringing Mia to the hospital, despite knowing the risks involved.

"Your ward has a form of connection established with this kirlia." The doctor began, gesturing at a monitor in the room. "that much can be established from the psionic-waves she is releasing."

"A psychic link?"

Doctor Leff shook his head. "This connection is many things, but a psychic link is not. It is far more… complex. Their minds are interconnected on a level far more...intricate. It looks like a psychic link superficially, but the damage goes far deeper."

"You mean… the soul?" Oak asked, his expression slightly vacant.

"I have no interest in the mystical, Professor Oak. I am an academic, I deal with facts. The soul… is not an existence that has been proven.."

Oak grimaced. Apparently Leff Flauros was one of those people.

"That said… I do believe that the connection, or bond, or lack of a better word, does dip into both your ward," he paused, "and this Kirlia's… well for lack of a better word, lifeforce."

That did it.

"Lifeforce?" He exclaimed. "You mean, if Mia dies then..."

"Red dies as well." The man completed glumly "I've been in medical practice for three decades now, and I can tell you, without a doubt that if this kirlia dies, then your ward will undoubtedly follow."

Oak stared at him, for once completely speechless.

"This kirlia," Leff continued, "has been emitting certain low-frequency psionic waves since this morning. Waves of such frequency usually point to damage in the mind. A psychic trying to repair itself or lost in its own memories."

Oak frowned "So what has that got to do with Red?"

"The thing is," Leff continued, almost as if expecting this question, "These waves are not being induced in Red due to an attack by the kirlia. Red is producing those waves on his own. Just like the kirlia. Ergo… Changes in her mind… are probably being mirrored in his own."

"Oh." That was all the old man could say.

Doctor Leff seemed to gauge the man's reaction. "Based on the data Miss Ketchum has forwarded to us, I have only been able to come to a single conclusion. This bond between them allows for the transference of Id."

"Id?"

His ignorance seemed to have thrown the man off. "Oh… Well, you might not have come across the term in your research, then."

"People tend to think I know everything." Oak sighed. " One of the demerits of reputation, I suppose. I will have to ask you to shed some light on the matter...'"

"I'll start at the beginning then," The doctor nodded, "Are you perchance… familiar with the term psyche?"

Oak nodded.

"That makes it easier. The psyche has three components— Id, Ego, and Superego. Id, or the subconscious instinct of a being, is what we are dealing with."

"So Red and Mia are sharing subconscious instincts?" Oak asked, slightly flummoxed.

"It sounds a little odd when put it like that," the doctor replied, nodding in acknowledgment, "You see, the Id can be divided into two parts— the first is the will to survive, to create, and to grow. It is the instinct that promotes life and love as we know it, and is called Eros. The other is its polar opposite. The drive to return to the dust, to destroy, to snuff out life— humanity, civilization and even oneself. We call this Thanatos."

"Eros and Thanatos," Oak repeated, as if tasting the words. "You said that the bond shares Id. And if this is not a psychic link… I assume that it is done through some kind of emotion transference?"

"I see you have studied the data."

Oak shrugged. "Whatever I could make sense of. I'm not very familiar with the subject's intricacies."

"Not many are," the doctor agreed genially, "and you are correct. Emotions are the expression of one's Id, and that is what has seemingly caused the problem."

"Which is?"

"A human psyche, or more specifically, a human Id, contains both Eros and Thanatos, in varying proportions. A kirlia on the other hand, is different. It has an overwhelming amount of Eros, with little to no Thanatos. The base instinct is fundamentally different. Now take all of that and drop it in a human mind..."

Oak lifted his chin. "That would cause an imbalance."

Leff's eyes twinkled. "Exactly. From what we know of the subject, one could hypothesize that this kirlia has been somehow… transferring Eros into your ward, and absorbing his Thanatos in return. For example, has your ward been… hyperactive and easy to please?"

Oak cocked his head. "That is one way of describing Red."

"The Kirlia-line has the ability to absorb happiness from the environment, or Eros, if you will. Constant collection of Eros is what has kept this kirlia… sane all these years."

"And then Red left for his journey."

"That is the part that has me stumped. From my discussion with Miss Ketchum, she was under the impression that this kirlia was feeding upon negative emotions, describing a process she referred to as the Shift. Now while I'm acquainted with Dr. Eusine's work, his credentials are…. Well, I'm sure a man of your stature will understand."

"I do." Oak didn't know what to say about that. That sort of reaction was normal when Eusine was mentioned. "I presume you do not agree with her deduction."

"Please remember, the Gardevoir-line is incapable of consuming Thanatos. Even if she… took it into her mind, it cannot be her sustenance. Either way, with your ward gone, the influx of Thanatos should have ceased. It should have given it a chance to raise up her Eros levels, for lack of a better word. If anything, it should have been happier than it had ever been."

"But she turned out to be the exact opposite," Oak stated, almost ruefully.

"Correct. My only theory so far is that for some reason, it got so addicted to absorbing Thanatos, that the lack of it made her look for it elsewhere. Everywhere."

"Almost like smoking," Oak responded. "You can't eat it, and it cant sustain you, but at some point you just can't stop. "

"Exactly. But unlike most addictions that are chemical… this one was mental. Esoteric even. It got worse and worse the longer Red was away. And from what I understand, at its breaking point, it released a massive psionic outburst that made people relive their worst memories. Am I correct?"

"So in essence, you are saying that this is an addiction to suffering?" Oak was a little bit incredulous "You mean to tell me that all of this is just Mia turning… sadistic?"

"Well," the man had the decency to look sheepish. "It sounds really silly when you put it like that… but yes. It fits in with its past records. Empathic beings, including humans, tend to seek reconciliation and catharsis. Instinctively. For those as attuned to their emotions as a kirlia, such feelings go much deeper. I am assuming that it was able to latch on to Red's presence, through this bond, and connect with him, on a metaphysical level."

"Metaphysical…" Oak repeated the word. It felt somewhat distasteful.

"Astral dimension, spiritual plane, mindscape… different cultures talk about it using different terms. Take your pick."

"Metaphysical is fine."

The doctor's mustache quivered. "As I said, this is only a hypothesis so far. I've been analyzing their brain waves, and so far, they are yet to synchronize perfectly, though that event might not be far from now. Till then, we only have to wait."

"And when that happens?"

"Theoretically, your ward should wake up." Leff looked at him somewhat remorsefully. " But whether he will still be the person you once knew him to be... I cannot say. You must understand that this is a completely novel situation for me. But don't worry. Your ward should be fine."

"And if he isn't?"

Doctor Leff stayed silent for several seconds before he exhaled. "Well let's hope that he does, I suppose."

---

Stop this.

Mia felt something inside her writhe in pain, felt her teeth gnash in anger as the desire for vengeance threatened to overwhelm her. It was only the years of experience processing Red's emotions from a neutral perspective that had allowed her to realize what it was.

She was processing— no, feeling Red's emotions. All over again.

Over and over, in loops. It was like the teen was systematically going through every single episode of hurt, and pain and suffering he had gotten in his young life.

Stop this.

The dark tendrils had kept her bound, her lower extremities still sunk beneath the chaotic swirl that formed the matrix of her mindscape. She had tried to break out, but nothing, nothing seemed to work. On the other side of the fake window— as she had begun to mentally call it —Red was suffering endlessly, and there was nothing Mia could do to help him.

What was worse was that a part of her seemed to revel in the pain.

Stop this.

Isn't it beautiful? Pure, unfettered emotion, slowly leaching out of his soul, his mind, his spirit…

"It's not beautiful. It's insane!"

I'd rather call it inspired. The imitation went on. After all, he's finally come here. You will not believe just how much I have craved for his arrival. Just how many moments I have stood in patient wait, for my father, my creator… to enter these halls.

"Inspired?" Mia yelled angrily. Did this creature think she could not fight back? Just because some tendrils were dragging her down into some twisted crimson cobweb? This was her mind, and now that she was slightly attuned to it, she was capable of controlling it, directing it.

Using it.

And so she did.

"You will stop this right now, or I'll kill you myself."

Kill… what a deliciously evil thought. The imitations lip curled. Positively… morbid, in fact. And here I thought I was the big bad monster hiding in the shadows. The darkness incarnate to contrast your inviolable purity.

"You are insane," Mia yelled back. "You call yourself my opposite, but all that you are is a tainted mass of emotions. I was right back then. You are nothing but garbage."

And yet garbage has its uses. Here you are, drawing out traces of happiness to survive… ignoring the wrathful maelstrom of despair all around you. Remember when the world around you was crying in despair and suffering…. Wasn't it glorious?

The imitation smiled.

I was there. I understand what it was. What it was worth. And after this, I shall have it.

Red screamed again.

This time, Mia didn't respond. She was no fighter, but she wasn't helpless. Conjuring a stream of pure psychic particles, Mia shaped it in the form of a spear, before launching it at the imitation.

It was stopped before it could even travel halfway— shredded to pieces by the surrounding tendrils, before getting absorbed into the crimson liquid.

You really shouldn't have done that. You know as well as I that I cannot be defeated. Not by you, and definitely not in this place. The thing stepped forward a twisted smile etched on its face. This is my world.

"And my mind." Mia snapped, not bothering with any shapes this time. If this was her mind, then it would create anything that she could conceive. And while she couldn't perform a psychic attack to save her life, Kaz could.

All she needed to do was give birth to that idea, that memory, and let it take form in her mind.

And so she did.

Tiny bits of bright, silvery vapor manifested around her, dancing and spiraling around it each, forming several helixes, before spinning and contorting into themselves. Before she knew it, she had chains— several dozens of them— shooting out of her own form, all aiming for the imitation that threatened to destroy her world.

The first chain was cleaved into three parts before it could get past the midway line.

The second was deflected by a rising swarm of tendrils, spinning, and drilling like some gargantuan monster that had been lurking inside the depths of the crimson darkness.

I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. Admirable, but mistaken.

The tendrils began to rise, morphing into twisted chains numbering in tens, in hundreds, in thousands. Ever-increasing in number, they surrounded her tormentor like coiled serpents.

But don't worry. At the end of this all I will forgive you.

The chains turned to face her, their tips sharpened into barbed spears.

After all, you are my mother.

And then they shot forward.

Even as the chains had started forming, Mia had already begun preparing her next move— something she had seen Kaz perform before.

A dense cloud of psychic energy gathered around her, contorting and spinning like a disc. Without delay, Mia pushed it downwards, tearing through the tendrils that had her bound, and then threw herself out of the hell pit.

Just in time to avoid a flurry of chains impaling the location she occupied a moment earlier.

That was close. Now I just need to keep doing that until I have a chance to end it.

It was easier said than done, her sheer stubbornness being the only reason that she was able to put up a fight. And while it was her mind, she was sorely lacking as far as control was concerned. Dancing was all she knew, and dancing wouldn't—

…

Or could it?

For the first time since being captured, Mia smiled. Her body levitated slowly before her eyebrows waggled at the imitation, taunting it, before she took flight.

And a gale of pure, undiluted happiness swept in.

Using happiness to fight sorrow. You'll never just accept defeat, will you? Then again, you are my mother. And for that, I'll always love you.

The tendrils coalesced into barbed spears once again, all aiming for her heart.

But they would not touch her.

Mia spun in the air, dancing as she did so, allowing the newly manifested psychic to take random shapes— flowers, pastries, kitchen ladles— anything and everything she could associate with her happier memories. The sea of writhing tendrils, however, still didn't respond to her, despite it being her mind.

Or maybe I'm not trying hard enough?

With undivided focus, Mia called the crimson blackness on the floor towards herself, willing it to turn into a garden of flowers like her little lawn. And to her surprise, something inside them moved.

The top portion burst open, like the top of a volcano, only to throw up pink and maroon and green petals into the air.

You think that you can control everything here.

Mia grinned and—

Thousands of tendrils tore through the flower petals from behind, shooting at Mia with the intent to kill. A timely display of agility helped her escape crucifixion.

But you merely adopted it… Manipulated it by force…

The tendrils twisted and churned and slithered their way through the air, locked on Mia's form, as she kept using her powers to escape or deflect and—

"KYAAH!"

Mia screamed, as she felt a sharp spear of darkness impale her from the abdomen, tearing through her defenses, sending her into the pool of crimson liquid. Ignoring her injuries, she tried to use the mindscape to aid her, but the tendrils were faster still. They stretched her hands apart, her legs twisted behind her— trapped, with a hundred tendrils hovering above her face, ready to impale through her at the slightest movement.

I was born in it. Moulded by it.

The imitation snapped her fingers, and the tendrils pulled backward, ripping both of Mia's hands from their bone sockets.

Mia let out an agonized scream.

The imitation winced. That must have really hurt. I'm sorry. I was really trying to make it painless for you. I'll try harder this time. Stand still, please.

The tendrils coalesced again, only this time twisting and turning into itself as it condensed. First came the hands, then the legs, and then finally a large jaw protruded out from the back of its head. The creature of darkness opened its bright eyes, and blinked cutely at Mia.

And then it's color shifted, turning a pale yellow.

How would you rate this as improvisation?

Mia gritted her teeth. So this was what it was going to be. Using her own fears against her. Really, why had she expected any different? Besides the more she was—

Red screamed.

Again.

Just thought that a reminder was necessary. Now you have context.

I hate her a lot.

The admission didn't help, but still, it felt wildly cathartic. Perhaps all that hype about fighting and training wasn't as brainless after all. Perhaps if she managed to survive this… mess, she'd ask Kaz for tips.

WOOSH!

A sharp tendril ripped past her face, nearly slicing it in half. And immediately behind it, came the gigantic, black, metallic-looking jaw, its teeth bared hungrily at her. Mia sent out a blast of pure power into the jaw, pleased to find the jaws shattering upon impact. The mawile roared in rage as it fell down into the floor—

"Is this really all— oh you've got to be—"

Mia squeaked, and shot to her left, narrowly missing the beam of pure darkness, launched from the mawile's jaw. Come to think of it, it was a surprise she had managed to hold back the agony that was tearing through her right now.

The pain alone was unbearable, as was the disorientation, but it was made far worse by the continuous sounds of Red's screams. She tried to keep his cries out of her mind, but they kept getting louder.

Just a little more. Just a little—

And then you'd be able to save him? It seems you still haven't understood what this is all about, dear mother.

"And it blabbers yet again!" Mia muttered, sending another blast using the power of her mind. Apparently, even though none of this was real, the pain and injury on her arms were real enough, at least for as long as she was trapped inside this hellish mindscape.

And she still had no idea how to get out of it.

Mia turned her attention back to the more immediate problem— The mawile look-alike that was attacking her. She was going to enjoy this. Energy converged around her, condensing into a flickering ball of flames, before launching it down at the mawile, taking with it all her frustration, her resentment and her jealousy. The creature screeched in pain as the energies burned it, slowly erasing it from existence.

To think you had this much anger inside you. Fascinating.

Another fireball landed around the imitation, only to be deflected by more tendrils arising out of the darkness.

I wonder if you'll show me… more, if I do this.

Screams inundated Mia's entire world. Screams of pain and agony and suffering, screams of the one person she coveted over everything else. Anger contorted her features, as Fire turned to Ice, flames twisting into strong, barbed shards that launched at the source of her miseries with extreme prejudice. Mia wasn't even thinking. Her mind was caught up in a sea of turmoil and rage— no clear thoughts or actions, just an instinctual barrage of mental curses that commanded the world to do one single thing.

Kill.

More shards ran down.

Tendrils rose and took them upon themselves.

Kill.

Balls of Ice, rocks, boulders, snow, frost, hail— the world almost appearing inverted.

Kill.

But it was for not. The floor of dark crimson opened up like a massive jaw, swallowing the incoming projectiles, A solid wall of darkness that absorbed everything that Mia threw down.

And throughout it all, Red kept screaming.

"STOP! TORTURING! HIM!"

Fire. Ice. Steel. Rock. Electricity. It didn't matter what it was. It didn't matter what was conjured. The entire thing was no longer a game between minds. It was a comparison of insanity. There were no tactics here, only violence.

Mia kept striking down at her imitation randomly, conjuring anything and everything she could think of. Whatever her imagination could create, the world around her could conjure. And yet, despite her giving it everything she had—

It still falls short.

The imitation chuckled. A valiant effort, nonetheless. I never expected something like that, from a little girl.

"Shut up."

Why? Isn't that why Red left you? Because you are little… and useless?

"Stop talking!" She threw another barrage of attacks over— this time, a storm of fire and lightning.

And just like the last time, it was futile. The darkness rose again, forming into swords and spears and weapons of unfathomable numbers. Hundreds. Thousands.

She tore through the imitation's weapons, but no matter how many she destroyed, there was always more.

And in the end, that was the absolute truth. Mia knew it. This was a battle that would last forever. Mia would keep conjuring newer and newer weapons, bringing out an infinite assault upon her imitation. The darkness would forever rise, defending, deflecting, attacking relentlessly.

And all the while, Red would continue to suffer.

And the more he suffered, the more she would continue to rage. Continue to tune in to more of her negative emotions, feed on negative impulses of the world, and at the end—

There would be no happiness left to conjure.

There would be… no Red.

Mia stopped short. Her still form levitated aimlessly in the air.

Oh, you're finished already? But surely you have some more happiness left, yes? I recommend you keep trying till you run out.

Mia gritted her teeth. Almost giving in to her instinct, she nearly launched another spear at the imitation, before relinquishing her hold.

The spear shattered into nothingness.

I see. You've realized it now, haven't you? Try as you might, you'll never be able to match me.

Its lips curled.

Does it frustrate you? To desperately cling to the fact that you're right… yet to fail all the same?

"I… I'll… kill… "

No. The imitation smiled, stepping forward, the tendrils contorting around it protectively. You will not. You cannot. You never had the potential to.

Mia's hands clenched into fists, her eyes blaring pure, unadulterated hatred. It was almost pitiful to find herself desperately clinging to calmness. To not lose control and give in to the very darkness that empowered that thing.

To not become her.

It would be so easy.

Mia shook her head. Even her own thoughts were beginning to falter. Her mind flashed back to the sphere of pure power the imitation had forced upon her during her vision of Pallet Town. Back then she had flinched, hesitated, but once she had gotten past the throes of pain, she had understood what it was she had been holding.

Use it.

One's reality was a sum total of one's interactions with the world and one's own subconscious. One's own knowledge, beliefs, thoughts, ideologies, every single judgment that one made— all of them were components that crafted one's reality. A thought was an extension of one's will, one's instinct. Emotion was instinct given form. And here, emotions had power.

And back at that moment, she had felt the power of over a thousand souls— the people of Pallet Town —when their negative emotions were most powerful.

And it was a power like no another.

You finally understand. The soul craves for its own destruction. Destruction of life, destruction of society, destruction of civilization, and even oneself. To return to the very dust that it once originated from. The instinct of Death itself.

That is who I am.

The imitation's eyes glowed. And when my father will lose himself in the eternity of darkness, your sadness, your despair will give birth to the real me.

It raised both arms in a wide circle. Your mind is the womb. His suffering is my soul. And your acceptance…. My conception.

In another bout of rage, Mia raised a cloud of malevolent psychic energy, before tossing it towards her.

ENOUGH!

The attack spasmed within itself, before slowly dissipating.

You think you can control this place… because it is your mind?

Tendrils rose and slowly moved towards her.

Mia tried to construct more weapons, flares of light, burning fireballs, shards of ice—

Nothing worked. Everything she constructed simply vanished at conception. As if, they were not allowed to exist.

Fool. You could only fight because I allowed you too.

The tendrils bound her, tearing into her skin, drawing blood, incapacitating her completely. Mia struggled helplessly, but she was dragged down onto the floor.

Face to face with the imitation, which then raised its left hand, and with its forefinger, it caressed Mia's face with a smile.

Your mind betrays you, The smile deepened. For your mind belongs to me.

...

…

Mia remained silent. It was true. Everything the imitation had told her had been true. She had no power here. Her mind wasn't hers. Her power wasn't hers. Even the well of power she had tapped into had been nothing short of a gift from this imitation. A gift, given to inspire false hope.

To see her rise and try her best to defeat it.

To see her do everything, only to fail and sink in despair.

Despair.

It was always about Despair.

Unlike hope, or happiness, or affection, despair was an acquired concept. One had to know love to feel hate. One had to feel loss to feel anger. And one had to feel one's hopes and ideal shatter into nothingness to feel despair.

The more Red suffered, the more she would be lost in her own sense of despair. The more she was lost, the more this imitation… this garbage, would be able to become one with her. The more that happened, the quicker she'd be lost, leaving behind this screaming abyss that would leave nothing but darkness in its wake.

It would return everything to the very dust from which life once again. It would destroy her, destroy Red, destroy her beautiful garden…

Destroy all happiness.

And then…. It would be born.

Which meant…

She smiled. It was all so simple.

Start from the beginning. Remember who you are. What you are.

Mia looked up, her lips twisting into a smile. "I finally understand."

The imitation cocked its head to the left, peering into Mia's eyes, as if trying to comprehend what was going on in her mind. Strange, I felt you give up hope but… something is changed. The scent of your emotions have changed.

"Yes," Mia continued softly, closing her eyes, "This is my mind, and yet…. It is under your control. I control this body, I feel my senses, and yet, my mind follows your directives. My senses tell me what you want me to think."

The imitation said nothing.

"My mind connects with Red through the Bond. You have it completely under control, and yet… you needed me to bring Red in. You could have erased me, and taken over. And yet, you want me to break down in despair. Despair would create You, which means…"

Mia's lips quivered, as she now openly gazed at her nemesis, smiling peacefully through her eyes. "This world… is not real. It is not my mind. Like you, it is but a pale imitation."

You dare—

"And it is time I put an end to this farce!"

Without hesitation, Mia pushed herself forward, stabbing her neck into the closest spear.

---

This place is a labyrinth.

It was almost surreal how exquisitely the entire hospital had been created. And every location was completely unique. He had been traversing through the entire edifice over and over, and he had yet to come across a location he had visited before.

It was almost like the hospital was eternally large. Like one could keep walking on and on and on, and yet never find a way out.

There were stairs going above and below. He had tried both.

The stairs running upwards led to the next floor. And then the one after that, and so on. There was no end.

The stairs going downstairs were the same. There were no elevators, no floor numbers. Nothing.

No Roof. No Balcony. Windows that would not open and stairways that did not end, this was an ever-expanding skyscraper that would provoke strong feelings of claustrophobia in even the most composed of individuals.

And yet, he didn't. Or rather, he could feel a growing anxiety deep within him, but it was so tiny that it could be regarded as unimportant in the scheme of things. Besides, compared to the mind-shattering trauma he had suffered from his own past— from familiar things— this novelty was almost welcome.

The fear was unimportant.

The restlessness was ignorable.

Instead, he felt the mystery generate a morbid sense of curiosity within himself. The strangeness appealed to his sense of adventure. Every single time he found himself in a never-ending corridor, the emotion that found itself expressed was curiosity. Interest. A mind-melting predilection to find an end to it all.

And as he loitered around, idly pondering about the idiosyncrasies of the situation, he found himself remembering the history lessons back at school. About the mythological Kalpavriksha, the World Tree. Legends said that the fruits from the tree could bring back the dead, and how it existed in the realm of the Gods of Old. Only on certain specific astronomical events would the tree manifest itself— surrounded by a near-endless labyrinth of mountainous caves, with the tree somewhere in the middle of it all.

Reserata Carcerum— the House of Cameran had named it, back when they had reached the shores of Kanto for the first time, almost half a millennia ago. The caves existed even now, though the tree had never been found. The Lords of Cameran had chosen to settle in the region, building their kingdom and capital city around it.

Today's generations called that city Rota. Regarded as an imminent historical spot, the place was filled with tales and archaeological constructs left by the Camerans, but even now, there existed several believers in the original myth of the endless labyrinth and the World Tree.

Oak had narrated the story to him back when he was a child— stories of myths and legends being very attractive to his eight-year-old self.

And now I'm stuck in something similar. Perhaps I should be feeling honored?

You should be feeling crushed.

Red spun back, surprised at the sudden intrusion to his privacy, and found eye to eye with a very familiar entity, someone he'd never have expected to see here of all places. The look on her seemed new, what with the inversion of colors, but the bright red in her eyes was just as he remembered.

"...Mia?"

Mia smiled. We meet at last. I must say this isn't how I expected this union to turn out.

Red's grin faltered before he pushed his legs backward. His stance shifted slightly, as he regarded the entity in front of him. Come to think of it, there was more than just a color inversion. Sure, the facial structure looked the same, but the expression in her face was alien.

That condescension. Mia would never smile like that.

"Who… are you?"

The alien cocked her head sideways. You don't recognize me? I'm—

"Not Mia," Red answered for her.

Her smile deepened. "I'm not Mia. You got that right. And you… are not Red. At the very least, you shouldn't be Red. Those memories should have broken you. A heartless, bitter soul, ready to kill or be killed on a whim. Not…. this you, standing before me.

"You…" Red stopped, the sheer magnitude of the rage within him cutting the sentence short. The casual way with which this creature— whatever it was —spoke about his suffering clearly indicated its personal involvement. Anger rose in him by leaps and bounds before a different thought flitted into his mind .

"You're the reason Mia is sick, and why I am… whatever this is."

The creature grinned maliciously. It was almost surreal to see that expression hung on Mia's innocent visage.

Mia… is dead.

"...what?"

Oh yes, she is dead. A pity really.

"You… you cannot be serious…" Red felt his legs shake, feeling a rush of anxiety and disbelief rise up. If it were anymore greater, he'd have thrown up. Mia… dead? That couldn't be real. No way.

No fucking way.

"You are… you're lying." He took a shaky step ahead. It was surprising that his legs hadn't already given away. Mia was… Mia was the one constant in his entire life. She had always been there at his side. Always.

And this monster had the gall to even insinuate that she was—

NO!

Red pushed away the thought, denying it with every inch of his will. He wanted to scream at this monstrosity but for some godforsaken reason, the sheer horror that should have inundated his mind was missing.

All he could feel was slight impulses of uncertainty. Sudden spikes of tensions and an ever-present, if tiny, sensation of dread.

And he hated it.

Not-Mia grinned at him. Would I lie to you? I can even narrate how it happened. In excruciating deta—

Red was done listening. He was already moving forward, his hands clenched into a fist. A moment later and he had driven his knuckles into this thing's face.

Anger rushed through his veins, almost like a faithful puppy answering its master's call. The rage, the disbelief, and the hate— all of that needed a sink. A destination.

Red gave it one. The vile imitation.

And then something intercepted his next punch. He couldn't exactly see who or what it was. All he could feel was some kind of invisible force, keeping him from punching the daylights out of this evil thing. Frustrated, he pushed in with his other arm, but the result remained the same.

Nothing worked.

Not-Mia smiled, as something large and invisible slammed into Red, pushing him and pinning him against a wall with a loud did nothing to remove the defiant expression etched on his face.

How barbaric! Here I am trying to make conversation and you're trying to hit me?

"Let me go!" Red yelled, doing his best to push himself away from the wall. He tried to push himself using his legs as support but the invisible force kept him stuck to the wall.

With pleasure.

Not-Mia laughed, before waving her left arm. Instantly the force that had him pinned up against the wall vanished before a second force shoved him against the wooden door to the right. The door creaked loudly before giving in, as Red fell past it, tearing through the wooden board itself.

I was there during her last moments. Do you want to know how it was? The monster chirped on happily. The poor thing. She brought you into her mind, hoping you'd save her. She kept on struggling, in the hope that you'd come save her. It was almost hilarious.

A pained expression formed on her face before she continued in a deep, nasal, mocking voice. Red will save me. Red will save me. I just need to hold on a bit longer. Red will save me.

Red gritted his teeth in anger as the monster's laughter echoed through the entire refused to believe that Mia was dead though. Just because this monster said so didn't mean it was true. He'd deny it and deny it and keep on denying it, until he had seen it himself.

And even then, he'd continue to deny it.

His leg wasn't moving properly, probably twisted, but surprisingly, there was no pain.

Cursing his luck, he pushed himself against his elbows, trying to reach for the timber around him for support, as he whispered, venom dripping in his tone.

"And for that…. I'm going to make you suffer."

Not-Mia blinked. So you… don't want me to tell you why she sacrificed her life in vain?

She walked forward, uncaring of his obvious intentions. Red didn't know what was worse. The fact that she was uncaring about his murderous threat, or the fact that she was continuing on with the entire facade.

Either way… it does not matter.

He tried to push himself up again, this time managing to get hold of one of the longer wooden pieces.

She sacrificed herself to keep you safe inside this place. Safe from the pain. Safe... from me.

Her grin seemed to split her face into two.

She thought she could save you.

It was almost surprising how he was able to react with such clarity. As much as he wanted to beat the crap out of this creature, he needed to get away first. He needed to survive. More importantly, if he had understood it correctly, then he had been going about this entire thing the wrong way.

This place-the hospital— it wasn't a prison, or a maze.

It was a fortress.

It wasn't meant to keep him in. It was meant to keep that thing out.

But this monster had somehow managed to step in.

Which led to his current problem.

She believed that, even when I slit her throat.

And something changed. The fiery rage was gone, and in its stead, a strange calmness resonated through him. All plans of escape were out of question. Instead, his heart screamed for one and one thing alone.

Vengeance.

"Is that so?" He asked, surprising himself with the calmness in his voice. "Well… good to know."

And then he moved.

Faster than possible, and kicked the monster down. He could see the surge of shock and something like fear in her eyes, before another invisible blow landed on his arm, deflecting the attack.

The only problem was, it wasn't enough to stop the momentum. Red went along with it, and shoved the shrapnel ahead, rupturing through her left shoulder.

The monster cried out in pain, as Red somehow managed to pull himself up again, limping as he did. Despite all the wounds littering his body,Red felt no pain. Too tired to move, it was all he could do to release an exhilarated chuckle that he released as he gazed on his downed foe.

---

The imitation fell back, clutching her ruptured shoulder, the deep gash spurting out blood like she had never seen before. She opened her mouth to question it but all that was released was a scream of pain and traumatic shock at nearly being killed like that in the hands of someone she considered easy prey.

This was a new experience for her. Afterall wounds were an indignity that were not allowed to befall her in the mindscape. The advantage of home-territory was lost to her in this… place. The oversight had nearly cost her her life.

She cursed.

Ever since it had all begun, the blob had been experiencing quite a number of negative emotions, which was funny considering its own origins. A being created out of frustration feeling frustrated?

It was almost a bad joke. The problem was, it wasn't in the mood for jokes anymore.

Everything had worked out perfectly from the very beginning. With Red away, it had been a matter of time before its mother had welcomed it with open arms. Like any child, it had embraced upon the opportunity with relish, crawling out of the limitless depths of the mindscape and connecting with Mia's true senses.

It had experienced the sea of emotions that was the real world.

It was exhilarating. Invigorating. Stirring.

Like the very first taste of freedom after an eternity of captivity. It hadn't mattered when it had never tasted it, but now it needed more. Now it knew and could not forget. The contrast turned the normalcy of its existence into endless suffocation, drowning in its own curses. In its own hate.

And the only bit of freedom it could get. The only respite... was Mia.

A creature that by human logic, was its own mother. And yet, the mother had been strangling the child, suffocating it, making it endlessly suffer inside that pit of darkness. The emotions bubbling inside itself hadn't felt… nice.

It had been quite some time before it had come to recognize them as hatred.

And yet despite it all, the unshakeable truth was that Mia was the mind. It, on the other hand, was a mass of emotions— primal instinct given sapience. An impossibility even by a kirlia's standards, and yet here it was. It hadn' asked to be born, but Mia had conceived it, regardless of the mechanics involved.

And now that it was born, it was not going to keep on suffering.

Its creator would need to take responsibility.

It had been quite some time before it had realized that it was calling itself She. Feminine. Like its mother. And so, it crafted herself just like its mother's template.

Only with a few modifications.

Glorious happiness had never found it, and so, suffering had risen to its protection.

Hatred had cloaked it from the pains caused by the absence of affection.

Joy had been denied, so the soothing darkness of sorrow had formed its crown.

Thus, she— a Mia of darkness —was born.

It was only right, thereafter, that she had stepped forward to achieve her vengeance. Her right. Her destiny.

She had come to realize that despite her sapience, she wasn't quite the Mind. That was a dominion held by Mia and Mia alone. What she had instead, was access to the very mindscape, the cradle of her genesis. The matrix that had nurtured her, allowed her to thrive.

A mindscape that she had grown to comprehend with time.

And yet, she was not Mind. The bond with Red— her father, connected with Mia's psyche, past the realms of the mindscape, past the limitations of personality, into the depths of Instinct itself. It was something that Mia and Mia alone could perceive through her senses, and connect to. And no matter how much the darkness tried, it could not gain access to it.

As such, bringing Mia into the equation had become an absolute necessity.

The darkness wasn't the Mind. She couldn't become the Mind. However, what she could do was break Mia. Seeing Red suffer— seeing her sole connection to life slowly waste away into an emotionless husk would shatter Mia-shatter the Mind. It would turn Mia into an entity so lost in sorrow and suffering and despair. A hollow shell of a Mind.

And then she'd take absolute control, inject her own sapience in the hollowness left by Mia's shattered personality.

She would become the Mind.

And a Mia of Darkness, one that would feast upon the sorrows of the world, one that was an answer to humanity's pleas— the manifestation of the darkest thoughts of all life, would be born.

Death, the devourer of the minds of men, would be born.

And everything would have worked out perfectly, if not for that final gambit that Mia had chosen to take.

She had chosen to destroy herself— destroy the Mind. Without a Mind, the mindscape would shatter— was shattering, and the darkness's own will could only hold it up for so long. It was almost a miracle that the bond was continuing to exist, though that was probably because of its conception in the instincts rather than the mindscape.

But there was something potentially more dangerous than that.

With her own sacrifice, Mia had closed the doors to the Bond, which had enacted its default protocol— to protect Red from negative emotions— exactly what the Mindscape and the memory loop had been.

And what she was as well.

And just like that, the darkness had lost everything. Or she would have.

If not for the one silver lining.

The bond was weakening, for some reason. It was almost as if a significant part of its power was being used for something... else.

The darkness had taken advantage of the situation and penetrated into the Bond. Her powers within this bounded field would be significantly decreased, but she was far from powerless. Between herself and the mindscape trying to tear through the bond's protections, it was only a matter of time before she'd be able to shatter it completely.

And then she'd take over Red's mind. It wouldn't be ideal, but it was her best chance.

Now only if she could find this...brat who had sprinted off after landing a surprise attack on her. Before she could finish speaking…

Cowardice, as humans would say.

The fact that this coward humanling had nearly killed her in an attempt to escape was not lost on her. She'd need to be careful. This wasn't her nurturing environment. This was a fortress created to protect Red. She'd need to be much more proactive if she wanted to survive.

Ah, found you.

She raised her other arm, biting back a wince as searing pain tore through her, and threw out another powerful wave of force. The walls shook, dropping whitish powder and the doors themselves were torn out of their hinges before blasting them into tiny shrapnel. Another wave, and the shrapnel was blown away revealing another empty room.

It only served to make her angrier. She radiated a powerful surge of rage, and her power obeyed, manifesting as a shockwave that tore apart the corridor.

And yet, there was no one.

Did you think you'd escape me?

She went on, wrecking the place as she slowly limped forward, the sprain in her ankle coupled with the broken shoulder girdle making it a pain to move even slightly.

I'm going to tear this place down. She whispered, more to herself than to her prey. You can run. But you can't hide.

---

She cursed her worthlessness.

She cursed herself for not thinking twice.

Why was this all the energy she had? Perhaps if she had listened to Red in the past, had actually learned something instead of dancing uselessly all day, she might have been able to do something.

Maybe she could have fought a little fiercer. Resisted being taken off-guard. Maybe she'd have known better than to bring her Red into the imitation's reach. Maybe that thing wouldn't have….

Mia allowed the thought to trail off. It didn't matter now. It was over. And yet, a part of her rebelled. Why was this the end?

Just a little more… If I can get just a little further into the mindscape… If I can just…

The gash from the tendril spouted out blood. Crimson. Dark. Just like the mindscape.

The irony of the situation reaches her eyes. All this had started because she wanted to get back to Red. And now…

I'll be lost forever.

Red will be lost forever.

It's so…. unfair.

The tendrils relax around her. She could hear the imitation screaming. Whatever had happened— whatever her stunt had done— it must have hurt it. Mia didn't know how, but she was sure it was not having a good time. But her current problems were far more urgent.

She didn't know if the world around her was real or just an illusion.

She didn't know if her death would even matter.

At this point the only thing that was real to her was Red. She brought Red in here, and thus, he was connected through her. Her own demise would break the link and set him free.

I hope he forgives me for all that suffering.

She slowly left the folds of the tendrils, and dropped down onto the floor.

She couldn't even feel the landing. All she could feel was the lack of… what?

She didn't remember.

Her senses picked up nothing. She tried to move her hand.

Nothing happened.

Did she even have a hand? A leg? A body?

Did she…. Was she—?

Her mind was slowly growing blank, A fog was encroaching her from all directions.

Her senses were slowly leaving her.

So… does this mean…

Have I lost?

She had no eyes, but she could feel the particles of energy all around her. As if she were lying somewhere up there in the night sky, surrounded by the tiny stars twinkling all day long…

She idly wondered if there'd be a shooting star somewhere too. Those were rare, but they were so beautiful.

And all of it kept going upwards.

Or perhaps it was her, who was going downwards. Sinking.

Her body had already vanished. Her thoughts, her feelings, her deepest secrets, and her silliest ideas…

All lost in the middle of this… nowhere.

And now, all that remained was a simple desire.

A dream.

A wish.

To stand alongside her dearest friend, amongst the cherry blossoms in the garden they had met. Back when he named her Mia. Back when he came running to her, held out his hand, and took her out into the garden to play.

When it tasted like pastries and smelt like pollen.

Things had been much simpler then-. And all the more beautiful.

The lights slowly died out as her remaining senses failed her.

And then the darkness encroached upon her, entombing her within the blackness.

…

…

…

Ask yourself— just what did you try to protect?

Mia didn't have eyes, and yet she stared ahead.

There was nothing. Just emptiness— not dark, but empty. She could feel tiny particles of energy all around her. They radiated power, and yet, they weren't there.

What kind of illusion was this?

You have failed in that objective.

Who was speaking? She didn't know. It was different from the imitation. It had been suggestive, slowly trying to encroach itself into her. Like a parasite. This one though… it felt strong, dominant, true….

Dare she hope for a second chance?

Wait… she was a she?

How was she even able to feel? She could remember herself slowly dissipating into nothingness. Now that she thought about it, she was the Mind. She was connected to her senses, to her bond….

….Bond.

Mia didn't have a body, and yet, she turned around.

She was still connected to the Bond. There it was, like an anchor, sinking deep into the instincts, into the mindscape into the remains of the being that was once Mia, but was slowly losing its Mia-ness.

She had for all intents and purposes destroyed herself, slowly assimilated into the vast depths of her mindscape. And yet, the bond maintained her personality, her identity….

Was she Mia? Or was she... the mindscape? Was this real? Was this a dream?

Did it even matter?

One's reality was another's illusion. One's perception defined one's reality. What did it mean to be correct or true?

They were vague concepts at best. Thus, reality was a mirage, shaped by one's beliefs. Reinforced by one's awareness. Maintained by one's concept of truth.

The destruction of the Mind was shattering everything, and yet, the Bond, her connection to Red— it stayed intact. Keeping her sense of self. Saving her.

It connected to the Instinct, to the core,to the soul that defined Mia. This was above happiness or cruelty, above thought or emotion, above instinct, above the very mind itself—

So what was real? What was the truth? What defined it? Reality or Illusion…

Mind, or Matter?

Or was it all just a… mirage?

Her head was spinning, the comprehension of her dual existence kept bombarding against each other. Her senses as an individual, forced into existence by the Bond, clashed against her existence as a dissolved Mind that was part of the mindscape. Was the mindscape.

A thousand realities formed around her, given birth through her thoughts, brought into existence through her will. A thousand realities dissipated into dust as the individual in Mia kept denying them, naming mere illusions.

Awareness ceased to be real, for what was it except her own beliefs? Her own faith in what she perceived as real.

Perception faded into illusion, since all manifestations of thought inside the mindscape were more real than real could be.

Reality existed inside the mind, nowhere else.

Mind would prevail. Mind would define Matter. Mind would define power. Mind would turn illusion into reality, and reality into illusion.

She was a creature of the Mind.

The Mind was everything.

It was then that everything about the mind that she had learned, thought, perceived, came together in a single sentence. One that held the essence of her comprehension. One that defined the entirety of her understanding.

Power is a state of Mind.

And then the world changed.

And somewhere in the eternal blackness of the mindscape, a pair of eyes snapped open.

---

"Professor Oak, I understand what this means on your part and I sympathize with—"

"No, you don't," Oak thundered, "I'll not have you exterminate her while Red is connected to her. I'll never be able to forgive myself." He regarded the doctor with a wary expression, "you said that the brain waves were slowly approaching resonance, did you not?"

"I did, I accept that, but the situation is getting out of hand." Leff Flauros argued back, "We hadn't expected such a complication to take place. The psionic waves are off the charts. The protective case can only block so much. The frequencies will soon bypass the barrier, and we'd witness a repeat of what happened in Pallet Town. Here, in the hospital premises. Think of the consequences."

"But Red—"

The doctor seemed to grow even more restless. "Please try to understand. The psionic waves are off the charts. Any more and it will cause extreme mental damage to anyone close to it, and even that is taking the dampeners into account."

"But Red—"

"Your ward is lying directly next to it. Do you think keeping him in there is any safer?"

Oak gripped the edge of the table. This was not what he had expected to happen. "What about the resonance? You said that they were going to synchronize and then—"

"They were supposed to, but we did not take into account any sudden rise in psionic amplitudes. None of this had shown in any of our test reports. I did tell you that this was a completely novel scenario even for myself."

"But surely you have some way to keep the waves from causing substantial damage until they synchronize?" Oak pleaded, desperation clear in his voice, "just until it synchronizes?"

Leff Flauros looked at the man with pity. Finally, the man seemed to arrive at a conclusion. "There is an alternative. If we could perhaps bring in a powerful psychic to provide additional mental barriers around your ward, then— then I believe we can contain it. For a while."

"I might have just the thing." Oak smiled.

---

The hospital compound was in ruins.

Technically, ruins was an imprecise term for such a scenario. A more apt description would be that it was getting obliterated from the inside and out. The middle ground, however, was perfectly neat and tidy, as if it wasn't being destroyed with a methodical precision. Strangely enough, the more the hospital seemed to get annihilated by enormous-looking— were those tendrils? — on most sides, it kept elongating more and more, in any direction it had a chance to expand in.

One would say that trying to fight a madwoman amidst this dance of creation and destruction was practically asking to be killed. But Red hadn't reached where he was now by stopping to think about things.

If only Mawile could see me now.

The monster was many things, but an acute sensor she was not. He had wasted time and blood— literally —in trying to confirm that.

The monster limped through the seemingly endless corridor, and not for the first time, Red thanked whatever deity was listening for this endless illusion. That line of thought automatically floated to Mia. He'd need to find a way to escape out of this place. After that, he'd have to start looking for Mia. Just because the monster had said that she was dead, didn't make that the truth.

A grave expression formed on his face. The walls were beginning to tremble slightly. He recognized those signs.

"Shit!"

Red ducked as quickly as he could, but it wasn't fast enough to dodge the powerful shockwave pushed forward in his direction. The force propelled him out of his hideout and threw him in the middle of the corridor.

Found you.

Red looked up from his spread-eagled position, and immediately wished he hadn't.

The monster wearing Mia's face had cleaved through the pillars holding the corridor together. And surrounding her were chairs, tables, broken hinges and planks, entire doors, broken glass, and concrete, levitating in the air like projectiles.

And of course, all of them were very good at making him very dead if they hit him.

Not-Mia gestured, and the dozens of projectiles shot at Red, all aiming to kill.

…

...

Realizing that he wasn't quite dead yet, Red forced himself to open his eyes— having impulsively closed them earlier. And what he saw was—

Chains.

Long, golden chains.

Dozens of them. No hundreds… Chains and chains and more chains, tearing their way past the walls— no that would be an erroneous description. If anything, the walls were slowly vanishing, allowing the chains to traverse through them with little if no resistance, and anchoring them just fine.

A meshwork of chains.

A giant, golden meshwork of chains that had intercepted every single projectile from its path. And then the floor began to shimmer almost like a rippling pool.

And from within rise a tiny shard.

And then another. And another yet again.

The shards began gathering faster and faster, almost like the shattering of a vase, only in reverse.

It came together to form an image. One which he would recognize anywhere.

"Mia…" he breathed. He didn't know when he stood up or when the hospital around him had started to fracture.

He didn't know when the fortress built around him had slowly started to churn around them, with himself and her in the middle, and the monster on the other end.

And honestly, it didn't matter. He had eyes for one thing and one thing alone.

Mia.

How is this—

"That's enough out of you," Mia raised her hand instantly. The childish innocence seemed amiss, and in its place, was a primal dictator. One that knew that her words would be obeyed without question.

So when the monster was effectively silenced, Red had not been surprised at all.

"You have dared far too much already. You are a child created of my emotions," Mia spoke almost authoritatively. Even from the distance, Red could see her bloodred eyes turn to an enraged crimson. It was… hypnotic, in a way.

"Creation can never surpass the creator. And you, with your limitations, are no different."

I'm not limited. I'm—

"Irrelevant!" Mia's words boomed into the void all around them.

Meanwhile, the hospital had been destroyed completely, and instead of the concrete floor beneath his feet, he stood in the middle of nowhere. Was he levitating? Was he flying? Was he falling? He had no clue. Was this even real?

Red ignored the questions swirling through his mind. They could wait. Red's hand extended forward, his eyes staring at the one person he had thought he had lost.

"Mia… you're alright."

Mia turned, her expressions softening as she regarded him. "I am. But first, I have to take care of this little mess," She paused and cocked her head to the right, "We will continue… afterward."

Mia turned back at the other creature. "It's time I take back what is mine."

And then she snapped her fingers.

The other Mia began to lose her form. Her shape was stripped from her. Her senses taken. Her very sense of being eroded. Until all that remained…

Was a small black blob.

Almost gently, she extended her hand towards the blob. "Come back. You need not suffer any longer."

The monstrosity shattered into a thousand black ribbon-like structures, before all of them spun in all sorts of patterns and danced their way towards Mia.

Red saw the dark ribbons converge into Mia, slowly crawling up her body.

"I will accept you."

The ribbons were almost tender as more and more of them entered her body. Her skirt began to turn into the darkest black, becoming almost incorporeal.

The magnificence of the scene was not lost on Red. It was… awe-inspiring. The feeling of the birth of something greater. A moment later, and she vanished, consumed whole by the shadow. It was like watching a whole new world be born, being constructed and destroyed at the same time. The inky blackness swallowed everything that was in it, and then in the midst of it all—

Two gigantic eyes opened in the infinite space around him.

Eyes as bright and crimson as his own.

---

His eyes snapped open.

Almost instantly, he cursed as the intense bright light in the room blinded him. Taking a moment to wave off the disorientation, he instinctively took in his surroundings.

Bright white ceiling. White walls. Because of course they are.

A tiny chuckle escaped him.

The fogginess around his vision was slowly beginning to fade.

A wall of glass. No, not glass. There were tinges of color around it.

Wait.

The surface rippled.

Heh… pretty.

"Doctor, he's awake. He's gained consciousness." He heard someone say.

At least this time I'm not alone. Or perhaps this is another dream?

He could see several people in front of him, though the mist in front of him kept him from recognizing anyone. He tried to push himself up, when someone feminine— a nurse probably— came closer and helped him sit up straight.

He blinked again. This time, things had come into focus.

He could see the professor behind the glass window, standing there with a stranger in a medical suit— a doctor, who was looking at him in surprise. No, not at him, he was looking at—

He looked to his right. There lying beside him, encased in some kind of transparent dome, was Mia. Just like he remembered her—not the magnificent, imposing presence she had taken in the endless labyrinth, but the real Mia, innocent and devoid of suffering.

He couldn't help himself. His lips broke into a lopsided grin.

She was safe.

And somehow, he knew exactly what was going to happen.

He could feel it.

It was about time really.

And then Mia exploded into radiant, bright light.

It was dazzling. It was so bright that it hurt his eyes, but Red would not look away. He had witnessed the magnificent form she had adorned back in his dream. He'd be damned if he looked away now.

The mass of bright light that was Mia extended out. Her body grew taller, larger, and more filled out in all ways. The two protrusions on the head morphed into a singular mesh of hair, covering her head, leaving her ears visible on either side. Her slender arms extended, as did her skirt, now completely spread out like a bridal gown. When the light faded, there she was, standing on her feet.

New and absolutely beautiful.

And yet different. Oh so different.

Gone was the childish face, and in its stead, was a countenance that spoke of wisdom that came with maturity. Between the mantle of curled, green hair hiding the better part of her face, her bright red eyes stared at him with a familiar warmth.

Gone were her white skirt, and in its place was a large, dark gown so black it appeared to be made of shadows. It drew Red's gaze towards it, and for a moment, he could see countless black tendrils, writhing around each other, contorting and twisting in all directions.

He didn't know why, but he had this feeling that he was witnessing something that shouldn't be witnessed in the first place. Static threatened to overwhelm his vision and almost instinctively, he blinked.

And just like that, they vanished. And the black gown returned.

Two red horn-like structures now protruded from her chest, extending to either side. Red momentarily remembered that these structures were known to act as amplifiers, allowing the Gardevoir-line to use their powers to the greatest potential.

A moment later his eyes met hers. His first pokémon. His first friend. His sister.

Family.

---

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