𝕬𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓

ACT II - DUST OF DREAMS

Chapter 21 - Determination and Despair

"I will not allow it." Samuel's breath was labored and getting worse as the elevator ascended.

Blaine blocked him out, and he couldn't blame him. After defeating Ghetsis's army, Samuel and his cohorts led a quick against Champion Marcus and his brigade, snatching power for themselves with the support of the remaining clans of Kanto and Johto. He'd been crowned as the new Champion, while Blaine, Agatha, Bruno, and Koga took positions as cornerstones of the continent. They called themselves the Elite Four. Masters of their own types— Fire, Ghost, Aura, and Poison. And he was at the top, leading the group.

Samuel had expected to find resources and willing supporters who would work alongside him to bring about a better world.

He couldn't have been more disappointed.

This was no haven. It was a lair where demons dwelt.

In the two months since becoming Champion, Samuel had gone through old files and shut down several of Ghetsis's personal projects, unwittingly funded by the citizens of Kanto-Johto. Experiments involving deliberate conditioning of pokémon to produce mindless drones using torture. Sites where pokémon were killed in mass droves in hopes of creating twisted, demented hybrids.

But nothing he'd seen or experienced had ever prepared him for this.

Natural Harmonia Gropius.

It was a disturbing utopian image crafted by a delusional psychotic, one that wanted to bridge the gap between humans and pokémon by playing God. Scores and scores of human babies were used as lab rats for the experiments. The files painted an absolutely horrifying image, with groups from southwest Johto being funded by the Champion's office to kidnap children between the ages of two and fourteen. Over two hundred and seventy-two were less than ten years of age, and nearly three hundred and forty were young, adolescent trainers who had been reported as 'lost in the wild' over the years. Inside this hell-on-earth, those innocents were injected with specially crafted, radioactive serums and observed for possible genetic mutations.

Only five had survived.

Three girls, one boy, one unknown. One boy, a seven-year-old named John Brooks, was taken by a lead researcher months before the war, with the reason listed as 'private experiments'. There had been no reports about John Brooks ever returning to the facility. The three girls were all infants, each barely more than six months old by appearances though the files listed them as two, three, and five years old. Whether it was human error, a system glitch, or truly something more was anybody's guess.

There was a fifth name on the list. No indication of whether the child was male or female. No indication of age or affinities. Merely a name. An identity that was described as N.

Just N.

As it turned out, the baby was special enough for Ghetsis to have come back for it after he'd been chased out of the continent.

Blaine was a scientist, first and foremost. He was methodical and, oftentimes, callous. He referred to these experiments as a sunk cost. A success whose moral costs were not their obligation. But to Samuel, it was an utter failure. A stain on the face of humanity.

"They're children. Innocent children!" Samuel argued. "And they have parents who might still be looking for them. Parents who deserve having their kids come home safely."

"These parents already believe their child to be dead," Blaine calmly argued. "As a scientist, I have a responsibility to the future of research. If you shut everything down, we may never know if humans can indeed stand on equal footing with—"

"Humans?" Agatha cackled. "Those things might look like infants, but they are abominations. Marionettes with demons inside them, waiting to be called out to cause devastation. They are WRONG!"

Samuel shook his head. The Ghost-Master could be terrifying on even the best of days, but she was more than just a little unhinged now. Though, one had to be after growing up with the demented ones that called Lavender Town their home.

"Blaine," he grasped the man's shoulder. "I understand your qualms. But do you really think you escape accountability by never admitting where these babies came from?"

"The accountability does not fall on us. It was the previous administration that—"

"We'll still know, dammit!" Oak snapped. "This isn't a balance sheet. You can't just shift blame around and absolve yourself of it."

The Fire-Master growled and poked a finger into his chest. "No, you listen to me, Samuel. Your compassion renders you blind. The clans supported us because they believed we could do better. Do you want our first act to cause nationwide panic? The moment you release this news, the continent will be in turmoil. The clans will withdraw their support, and people's image of the Kanto-Johto League will be forever tarnished."

Samuel looked away. Agatha growled. Koga, bless his eternally patient heart, remained silent. He thanked his lucky stars he hadn't informed Bruno yet about these developments.

"As far as endangering lives is concerned," Blaine went on, "this facility has already done that. I am not saying we should continue along the same path. But at the very least, we should take the fruits of this labor and use it to develop scientific progress. Without the immoral methods used by Ghetsis."

"Your 'science' itself is the root of half the problems it is trying to solve," Agatha spat. "Progress is Mother Earth's ultimate malignancy."

"Scientific advancement carries risk. It always has. If not for it, we'd still be stuck relying on beating pokémon into obedience rather than pokéball technology. Today, we have protections. Barriers. Move chain developments. Science, despite its blunders, must survive. For everyone's sake."

Samuel wasn't sure whether to be incensed or impressed by Blaine's ability to weigh moral issues with such detachment. His intellect seemed to be the product of an icy divorce from his inner spirit. The fact that he was a Firemaster only made the irony more apparent.

"For generations, clans have tried reaching out by embracing the Powers that be," Agatha softly spoke. "With aura. With spirit. With souls." Her face twisted into a cruel sneer. "Not by twisting human offspring into demented puppets."

And that, Samuel acknowledged, was the other side of the problem.

Puppets.

Human puppets.

From the evidence, it was clear that all three girls had been implanted with psychic matrices— a secondary personality that lay underneath the original. It would allow them to live normally and beyond reproach, with no one the wiser. After all, they genuinely were the original personalities. But if a certain set of words was uttered in succession, it activated their secondary personality.

A killing machine, devoid of emotion or thought. One that existed only to serve.

Samuel took a deep breath. "I propose a third option. We hide information about this… puppetry from all League records. We can have researcher families take the girls in and subject them to casual observation. All three will be allowed to lead normal lives while learning to develop their powers."

"But they are not normal," Koga said at last. "They look like infants now despite being older. They may look like teenagers despite living for decades. What happens if they go astray?"

"If that happens…" Samuel's eyes darkened, "then we use those very commandments to keep them on the right track."

Samuel stared with mounting dread as the carefree Sabrina slowly lost herself. It stepped forward with mechanical precision, and an inflexible, cruel expression pasted on her face. Its eyes flickered with unbridled psychic power as it slowly walked up beside the man who claimed to be Ghetsis's son. Even though there was no visible difference between her and the real Sabrina, they were fundamentally different in the ways that truly mattered.

This thing in front of him was beyond reasoning. It had no inhibitions, no rationality, no need for caution. It held no tolerance for friend or foe, nor any opinions or judgment. No compunctions of morality, no desire for vengeance, no hopes, and dreams to fulfill.

It was a machine that existed only to obey the commands of the one who held power over her.

In this case, Proton.

Samuel's eyes flickered among the faces in the crowd. What horrid luck that all three of those girls were among the audience at that very moment. Sabrina, the (officially) sixteen-year-old girl who could harness empyrean energy and perform psychic manipulations of the mind powerful enough to aid her rise as the Saffron City Gym Leader. Anabel— twenty-two-year-old Frontier Brain as the Commander of the Battle Tower in Cremini Town. The girl was an empath on par with an average kirlia, and was often sought by scientists all over the world because of her way with pokémon.

And finally, there was Karen herself, the newest addition to the Kanto Elite Four and Mistress of the Dark-type. She was the only human whose body synthesized Dark energy, or Void, instead of plain Aura. Understandably, she was a frail thing and barely left her home in Tohjo Falls. With her greying hair, she looked older even though she behaved like a young adult most of the time.

Samuel frowned. Karen was probably the only one who could deactivate the psychic ward around the city. So why had Proton only activated Sabrina? Was it only her identity that had been compromised, and how? He doubted Koga would ever tattle such incriminating information to Lance or the government. Agatha… the very idea was hilarious. Bruno was left in the dark about that particular secret. That left—

Blaine.

Had his old friend given away their dark secret to someone else? The Firemaster had always danced with the idea of dangerous research. Samuel was impressed and wary of the choices his fellow researcher made to further his own study of the world of pokémon.

Project Larvesta in particular came to mind.

Blaine made boatloads of money with his Magmarizer technology, for which he had gleefully collaborated with the Indigo League in return for more funding. Had he broken their age-old pact for the same?

Samuel grimaced. If he managed to get out of this precarious situation, he would need to have words with his old friend.

He glanced at Lance, who was looking like an idiot as he continued to struggle against. the Disable.

At least he doesn't have his cape on.

"So," Proton grinned, "which will it be, Samuel Oak? The life of your protégé, or Mewtwo?"

The Team Rocket Admin snapped his fingers, and Samuel felt a slight uptick of empyrean energy fill the room. Given the chorus of inhales that followed, people were able to move their heads again. Proton, he was learning, had an intense flair for the dramatic. Much like Lance and the rest of the Wataru.

"Bring the boy!" he ordered. The red-haired girl in the black suit walked up to Red's fallen form and dragged him forward by his left leg. Samuel could hear the Shirona girl screaming in the background, begging the redhead to let Red go, but it was practically noise to his ears as he looked on with growing horror. The redhead pushed Red up to his feet, the Disable only heightening his pain—

A wave of hot and terrible anger flooded through his mind. "Leave him alone!"

Proton did not so much as flinch. "Pull his head back. I want to see the desperation in his eyes as he loses his mind."

The tempest in his chest raged. "I said leave him alone!"

Proton whirled back towards him. "Will you help us secure Mewtwo's transport?"

Frustration welled up in him. To choose between the Pod and Red, was no choice at all. But the fact that he was being forced into this position at all infuriated him. These people… were monsters. Monsters whose very existence was a plague upon millions. Monsters who had the temerity to hold an innocent's life hostage. Monsters who dragged others into the darkness and inflicted unspeakable torments upon them for pleasure. He would know.

His eyes met Red's, and in that one moment, he saw a torrent of emotions flowing through the boy— desperation, followed by acceptance and gratitude. Truly, he did not deserve half the adulation Red had for him. Not after everything, he'd put him through.

Was putting him through.

Oak pinned Proton with a deathly stare. "You may have the upper hand now, but I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth if I have to."

The Admin laughed. "Ah, yes. The Boogeyman finally shows up in full form. Good, now begin helping."

Coeus, he called from within his mind. Come to me. Coeus.

There was a little flutter in his mind as the connection between him and Coeus shook. The weight of the psychic Disable around him strained it, but it was still there.

Samuel went even deeper.

Coeus.

Something responded. He couldn't quite see the shape of it, but he knew that Coeus had heard his call. Some of it anyway.

Come to me. Come to me. Come—

"Samuel," he heard a stern voice from the audience. It was Giovanni, the man whose hatred for terrorists rivaled none but his own. Though, given the current situation, that was probably no longer the truth. "Think of what you are doing."

Oak blinked, before giving the man a look of disbelief. "You want me to let Red die?"

"I understand he means a great deal to you, but you must not negotiate." Giovanni's voice went rock-hard. "Forgive me, but I will pull rank if I must. You are a Professor under service to the Indigo League, while I am in charge of the Police Administration. I order you not to cave in to their demands."

"And you're fine with letting an innocent die?"

"Who's to say they will hold up their end of the bargain if you comply?" the Viridian City Gym Leader argued. "The moment they have Mewtwo, nothing stops these barbarians from killing us all. And more importantly, losing Mewtwo is a global loss. Some may die today, but billions will live if you stand strong. The power of a God, in the hands of terrorists—" his voice dropped to a whisper, "no one life, innocent or not, is worth that possibility."

Samuel said nothing. He could feel Giovanni's obdurate will, as well as the unyielding determination he held in his eyes that kept him going.

But that didn't mean he agreed with him.

"You've got it backward," he replied quietly. "No life is worth more? No, Giovanni. No life is worth less."

The Gym Leader offered no rebuttal, but his eyes were arctic and absolute. Behind him, Oak could see Steven Stone, the current Hoenn Champion and heir to Devon Corp, giving him a tiny conspiratorial nod.

His brows furrowed. He was pretty sure he hadn't imagined that, which meant—

"Sabrina," Proton's voice rang out, "I believe the Professor has made a decision. What will it be?"

Samuel gulped. He'd met the young man several times in the past, and knew of the steadfast, dependable personality underneath the happy-go-lucky attitude. The Hoenn Champion clearly had something planned, and it was up to him to ensure that Steven had the chance to put it into motion.

Slowly straightening up, Samuel let every emotion drain from his face. The tension in the air was thick. None among the audience seemed to move. Even Steven looked content as if waiting for something.

And Coeus… Coeus had received his message. That much was certain. But he hadn't arrived.

Why?

It didn't matter. It was only a matter of time, and he needed to make sure Coeus got all the time he needed. The battle-hardened alakazam, after all, was not one to act with haste. The psychic had shed his physical limits and transcended into something else a long time ago. So if Coeus was waiting to come to him, it meant something needed to happen before he intervened.

But what is it?

"Very well," Oak resolutely stated. "I will help you secure the Birth Pod."

Proton grinned. "Good. Now get started. You have a lot of work to do."

Red scowled. Just bloody perfect.

The hall had fallen silent, and he wondered if the Champion and Elite Four were trying to think of a way out of this. From the look on the old man's face, it seemed he was more in shock than in thought, which meant that even the great Samuel Oak held the smaller end of the stick. Not for the first time, Red regretted ever staying in this place. He should've listened to those eerie warnings his mind flared at him all evening, not to mention the very verbal one Agatha gave.

Not that it mattered. With the way things were going, everyone in Pewter City was a dead man walking.

Red slowly breathed. Remember the solution to this test.

It was a neat little nugget of wisdom he'd picked up from the old man. Rather than thinking of a solution to an impossible challenge, Red simply asked his mind to remember it. The supposition that he once knew the answer created the mindset that the answer must exist, eliminating the crippling hopelessness of any situation. He had often used it to solve the endless intellectual problems the old man loved to throw his way. Problems that others his age often thought had no solution.

And then he'd point out how well I'd do as a researcher, Red nostalgically reflected.

Shaking his head, he measured his options. The old man didn't have anything to rely on. And neither did he. He was literally a hostage to force the professor to act against his wishes. To get out of this bind, he would need tools.

There are always tools. Re-evaluate your environment. What do I need most?

The answer was simple. Help. He needed outside help.

But how?

Think. Remember.

The first step was establishing a line of communication, one that would allow the transfer of information and a request for aid. And quite conveniently, there was someone on the outside who could both act as an aid and provide capable enough to alter the odds. But the Disable prevented it. Even Mia's presence was limited to checking in on his emotions.

So he had to get rid of the Disable. The Disable was a psychic ward, which meant the caster was nearby. Psychics were nearly always in the immediate vicinity of the terrain they controlled. Something to do with psychic energy fluctuating with increasing distance. If he couldn't see it, it was hidden from sight. But the hall was too large. Too open. Not many places to hide. Thus, the caster was, in fact, far away, which meant the Disable was vulnerable to attacks.

His eyes snapped open. The analytical mind of Red Ketchum was a powerful force. And he'd just realized his incarceration could just be his key to escape.

Sabrina was a powerful psychic. The pokemon that had performed Disabled was one too. But Red just so happened to know someone who could kick their asses without lifting a finger.

Someone conveniently in the same room as him.

An ocean does not bring a raindrop to meet itself.

Raindrops fell to meet the ocean. Sometimes directly, sometimes through mediums. But meeting the ocean was its natural course of action.

A free fall.

He closed his eyes.

With the help of the inexorable power of gravity.

Shard rushed towards the Whole.

Pulling it down to meet its source.

Red fell inwards.

And the world changed.

Static covered his eyes. Crackling thunder pierced his ears. The biting chill of ice numbed his skin while searing, corrosive flames singed his skin.

Good. This was more familiar.

Contrary to what his mom believed, he never blindly sought trouble. And yet, it found him anyway. Based on his recent encounter with Mewtwo, it was clear the legendary wanted him for something, whether it was part of a great annihilation-of-humanity plan or something equally dastardly. He only hoped seeing out the pokémon actively would be enough to secure its interest.

But Red wasn't going into it blind and ignorant. He reeked of desperation, but he was far from stupid. Mewtwo did not want to kill him. At the very least, it valued his existence more than any other human. It could make him wish he were dead, but it would not take his life. Not yet.

All he needed was for it to allow him entry. And then—

A movement behind him caught his eye. From his periphery, Red spotted a shadow congealing from the mist, forming itself into a slender, humanoid shape with a large, bulbous tail.

His throat went dry. "Mew— two?"

"As I have told you, Spawn," came the basso rumble of the familiar voice, "you are to play the most important role of all."

He frowned. "And what's that?"

Mewtwo's image slowly came into focus. "You used our connection to return back to… me. It reveals a lot. Yes, I can see them. So many new futures unwinding."

Somehow, that made him feel a little better. New futures meant more chances of survival. Maybe coming here was a good decision after all. Then, Red glanced at the calculative expression marring the Legendary's face and decided he was being too optimistic.

"Too many bright ones," Mewtwo spat.

Bright ones. He assumed that meant psychic types. "And… that's a bad thing?"

"It is a matter of perspective," the Legendary replied. "Tell me Spawn, do you know the Ways of Order? Or, as you mortals refer to it, psychic energy?"

"Ways? Are you talking about the types of psychic energy manipulation?"

Mewtwo's expression turned inscrutable. "You speak simply, but not incorrectly. But if a primitive being such as yourself is to understand, that may be your only recourse."

By this point, Red was certain he was confused. It was like they were talking about two completely different things. He also felt insulted. But with everything going on, his ego didn't have time to dwell on it. "Listen, I need your—"

"There are Four Ways of Order— time, space, force, thought. That is in contrast to the Four Ways of Ardor— emotion, gravity, refutation, origin."

Red mentally repeated everything Mewtwo said for further consideration, but he couldn't help but wonder where the Legendary was going with this.

"You are my Shard. It is only natural you follow the same paths as I would. That is your destiny. But Time seems to be playing games with me. Here I am, coming to life in a form merged with the Four Ways of Order. But you, my Shard, dance in tune to the Four Ways of Ardor. The dichotomy is so grave, and yet so… interesting."

"I'm… glad?" Red offered, trying his best to follow along. "Listen," he tried again, "there are some time-sensitive events going on right now. It's really important that—"

"You will find, Spawn, that very little around us occurs without my knowledge."

Red got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It reminded him of all the times he got called into the principal's office back in the Academy.

"That you took it upon yourself to traverse back to my Reality to escape your bindings is intriguing. Perhaps in some childish belief that I might aid you in escaping the precarious situation you find yourself in?"

"You— uh, you know?"

Mewtwo gave him a mildly suffering look.

"Right. Awareness."

"Or perhaps you refer to your alternate arrangement. Were you hoping that the Blight will come to you as she has done before?"

Red frowned. "Why do you call Mia 'Blight'?"

A turbulent expression flickered across the Legendary's face. "The Blight thins the line between 'what is' and 'what can be'. I know not what caused a timid creature to ascend to such Taboo, but her very existence threatens to condemn this world to oblivion. As the one true King, is it not natural for me to despise her existence?"

A legendary pokémon despised his Mia. That alone was enough for Red to start worrying. The hairs on the back of his neck didn't so much rise as they did tremble violently.

"Worry not, Spawn. Though her existence is worth my disdain, her Ascension is worth my recognition. The future Me may not share this perception."

He really didn't have time for this. "I need help," he blurted out. "And if you don't help me, bad things will happen."

Mewtwo tilted its head. "Enlighten me."

"Team Rocket is trying to steal… uh, well, you. They think you're a danger and—"

"You do not think of me as one?"

"Well, I do. You frighten the crap out of me," Red admitted. "But they want to use you to do… I don't know, something terrible. They controlled Sabrina to do their bidding like she's some fucking—" he winced at his own profanity, but then wondered if the Legendary shared human notions of propriety. Probably not. "Like she's just some puppet. And now they want to do the same to you."

"And… you care enough about me to warn me?"

Red bit his lip. Every inch of him wanted to bow down and agree. To appeal to this Legendary's ego and deceive him. The ugly part of him, the black part of his heart, wanted to lie and use Mewtwo's interest in him to acquire aid, or at least to communicate with Mia and get her help. This was Mewtwo's realm, and it wouldn't really hurt anyone. Besides, the Legendary itself had stated how it wanted to destroy humanity. Using his aid to save it would be ironic. Deception was generally a bad thing, but—

He took a steadying breath. Oak once told him that using phrases like 'It would be wrong but…' was a good way to tell when someone was trying to rationalize a bad decision. His advice had been to leave the conjunction out of the sentence.

'It would be wrong.' Period.

And while Mewtwo was a cruel, potentially murderous creature, it had never lied to him. Not once.

Not to his knowledge anyway.

"You're powerful. Probably stronger than anything even Samuel Oak's team could accomplish back in their prime," Red admitted. "But I still think you're wrong about humanity needing to be destroyed. The old man made a mistake trying to resurrect you like this, without more research into your nature. He wanted to resurrect you to find secrets lost to time. To bridge the gap between humans and pokémon. You—" he swallowed, before carrying on, "you mentioned something about humanity being cut off from the Well of Ascension. Well, maybe the old man did it to bridge that gap."

Mewtwo's gaze was affixed to him.

Red felt desperation seeping into his voice. "I'm just a kid. I'm impulsive and rash and I make silly mistakes all the time. As a human, it's in my nature. But even then, I managed to pull together a strong team. And now we're family. Humans may be flawed, but we can always improve. Maybe not evolve or ascend, but we can always strive to overcome what problems lie ahead of us."

Still, the Legendary continued to stare silently.

"You said your current perception of Mia might change in the future. Well, maybe you'd think differently about humanity in the future too. But for us to have a chance of that happening, we need to survive. Team Rocket is a group of broken, damaged people acting out rashly because they think they've been wronged in the past. If you're really a King like you claim to be, then you need to take care of your subjects, not be tied to some silly machine and made out to be a puppet.

"And you believe this Team Rocket of yours can pull my strings?"

"Would you want to give them a chance?" he retorted. "Here in Pewter, the greatest minds of humanity are in one place, witnessing a miracle that strengthens their belief of working together. Letting all that potential die because of the delusions of some madman is—"

Mewtwo audibly exhaled.

And for a second, Red believed he might just be able to pull this off.

Then, it shook its head and let out a cold laugh. Its entire form was finally fully concrete, power gathering around it like a transparent nebula.

"Human," it said, its contempt clear in its tone. "You speak of commitment. Of destiny. Of the rise and fall of potential. It is but a child's daydream compared to mine."

"Don't do this," Red begged, his knees hitting the floor as anxiety gripped his heart. "Please don't let them win."

"Let them win?" Mewtwo spat. "I have been annihilating vermin like your 'humanity' for eons, keeping the Well of Ascension pure from all the riff-raff. I play the tune. I set the beat. For longer than you can comprehend, I have followed this path as the Shapeshifter That Survives All. You wish for me to save humanity? I was there to fan the flame of man's awakening. And when they grew too rampant and interfered with the natural order, I was the one who set it ablaze." Its eyes drilled into him. "Do you really think your 'old man' was the first of your kind to piece me together since I first slumbered? Don't make me laugh."

Its shadow darkened with every word it spoke, and Red shuddered at the sight. At its bearing. At its clarity. At its destructive sense of purpose. The old man once said that humans could only trace history back six hundred years before everything became muddled. And the reason was standing right in front of him.

To think one of the world's foremost minds had the grand idea of resurrecting it from its symbolic ashes. Here he was worrying about Team Rocket while the avatar of death was sitting silently, biding his time.

Almost as if it were reading his thoughts, Mewtwo gave him a hungry smile.

"Whether this Team Rocket clears some of the trash for me or I do it myself, it matters not."

The aura around him collapsed unto itself and darkened further.

"I am… inevitable."

Mewtwo's eyes flashed, and reality around him warped. Like a condensing cloud, it collapsed around him, forcing him to sink deep into it and—

Red found himself back in his disabled form, staring in horror as Proton placed his hand on the Birth Pod. Samuel Oak was down on his knees, forcefully disabled under the will of Sabrina, who was looking down at him with hunger in her eyes.

"Samuel Oak," Proton laughed. "What a worthless man! First, you throw away your life's work for a no-name child. Then you sacrifice your own life for him. I almost want to kill this boy to see you break. But you have chosen to face death and let him live. So be it."

Red couldn't believe his eyes and ears. The old man was going to die? For him? He'd failed. He'd tried getting Mewtwo to help him and failed. Oak had unlocked the Pod and handed it over to Proton. So why— why— why did he have to die?

"Finish him," Proton snarled.

Sabrina grabbed Oak by the chin. The professor opened his mouth to let out a scream—

And something within Red snapped.

His chest stopped heaving.

A single tear slid down his cheek.

If Mewtwo wanted to destroy humanity so badly, it would have to watch its own precious cells being destroyed first.

Sorry, he whispered inwardly, sending a mental prayer to everyone he cared for. His mother. The old man. Mawile. Shellder. Skarmory. Dratini. Growlithe. Scyther. Mia…

"No," Red spoke, his voice utterly dead. "Not him. Kill me instead."

Proton beamed.

Editor: Solo Starfish, the best goddamn starfish the world has ever seen.

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