"What's the status on Morai?" Giovanni asked. After their attack and attempted capture of Morai, Team Rocket had retreated to their home bases in Kanto and Johto, lying low and gathering information before making any more moves.
"The last anyone has heard was that she was placed in solitary confinement and threatening to rip everyone apart," Petrel answered. "That serum still has a death grip on her, as you were hoping for."
"One thing no one here tested was how long she could go without blood and what it would do to her. They're conducting that experiment for us," Archer added with a frown that was hidden in the dim room.
"As long as they don't break her," Giovanni sighed, swirling the glass in his hand. "We can't have anyone breaking our weapon."
Archer and Proton gave each other troubled glances. Although they had tried to forget the attachments they had developed to Morai, they still had hoped that they'd be successful in taking their old friend back from the International Police in Alola. They were the reason she was there, after all.
A few days had passed since Morai had been confined to a small cell and taken to the medical wing after biting her own arm to try and quench her thirst for blood. The dark room allowed for endless visions and daydreams of how she might come out on top of this battle, but it seemed Sheridan was winning. Each agonizing day passed torturously slow, and all Morai had to fill the time was thinking and trying to sleep. There was no way to tell the time, and the days might as well have been one long, painful and drawn out day. The prisoner eventually began to break. Even Past Morai, who had vowed not to speak to her, eventually held her as she lay listlessly on the ground of the garden's center, staring ahead at nothing in particular. She was pretty sure that Morai had even shed a tear or two amidst what had become her otherwise zombie-like demeanor. In the real world, her silent agony became loud as she helplessly roared at the one who was to blame for her state. Screams turned into pleas, but there was only silence in return either way. If the odd nurse or guard came too close, she snapped at them in hopes of even a drop of blood.
Finally, the figure of the warden appeared in the doorway. She brightened the lights a bit to reveal Morai staring silently at the wall ahead, her mouth hanging slightly agape.
"Morai," she said, drawing closer to the prisoner and eventually waving her hand in front of her face. Morai slowly blinked her eyes and looked at Sheridan as she undid the straps confining her limbs to the bed.
"I brought some water," she said, handing it to Morai, who looked curiously at the glass before setting it down on the table beside her. She was forlorn with a deathly look, her eyes barely open. "Your time in this room is done. It's nearly time for breakfast."
Morai waved her off with her now free hands and turned to her side, something she hadn't been able to do for days. She pulled the covers up over her scrunched shoulders.
"Did you hear me?" Sheridan said. "You're free to leave."
The prisoner didn't answer, leading the warden to circle around and pull the covers off of her.
"Get up and get cleaned up. That's an order."
It was the opportunity to shower and put on a fresh uniform that got Morai out of bed. After she was taken back to her room and was able to freshen up, she took a step toward the dining hall.
"Not yet," the guard said, taking her by the arm and leading her in the other direction.
"Where are we going?" Morai asked with a frown as they walked. She didn't fight back. She barely had the energy to walk, as nearly all of it was put towards not attacking anyone on sight to satisfy her unbearable thirst for blood.
The guard didn't answer, but the prisoner got her answer once they arrived at the doctor's lab. She was ushered inside and the guard was joined by another, both of them sitting her down and beginning to restrain her wrists.
"Hey...hey!" she yelled with the most volume and intonation she had mustered in days. "What's this about?"
Morai finally began to fight back, but her strength had seemingly abandoned her. After she was confined to the chair, she was left alone to try and escape until the doctor arrived.
"Hello, Morai," he said. His tone was like what Sheridan's had become: cold and business-like. He had a syringe in hand, and the prisoner's stomach dropped as he flicked it before approaching her. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"
"N-no!" Morai yelled. "Whatever that is, I don't want it!"
"It might make you feel better," the man replied, drawing closer. "Get rid of your curse."
"I don't care!" The Mask Maker growled, swinging her legs up and pushing him back with her feet. "I'll take this over that any day!"
"Don't be that way, Morai. I'm trying to help you."
Morai was doing everything she could to escape, even biting the doctor as his hand got close. He ripped it free and turned her head to the side. There was a prick in her neck, and she froze in place.
"I don't need it! P-please! Please, I don't want to go back! I'd rather die!"
Surprisingly, there were tears running down the prisoner's face. The doctor paused, his finger lingering on the plunger.
"Alright, alright," he sighed, pulling the syringe from his subject's neck. He walked over and collapsed into his own more comfortable chair a couple of yards away.
"I suppose this is why I couldn't conduct experiments on humans without permission from the International Police. Ethics are more than empty laws keeping me from reaching my potential, I suppose...I don't think I've ever seen you cry," he said, almost with a laugh as he rubbed his own neck. He looked at Morai, who was still sniffling with wild and terrified eyes. "Even after all of the pain it's caused you, you're terrified of breaking the hold it has on you. Why?"
"To be weak is a fate worse than death," she shakily whispered, her eyes still unnervingly wide. "To walk the earth as some pitiful thing, terrified of being preyed upon by someone stronger...I'd rather be the one who terrifies everyone else, even if it leaves me to stand completely alone."
"So...fear is what drives you," the doctor concluded, rising from his chair to pour himself a glass of wine. "In all of your masquerading and demonstrations of power and physical prowess, fear is what lies at the heart of you, fighting with bloodlust for control over your actions."
Morai didn't answer, but looked away.
"Well," the man continued, taking a drink. "I'm afraid my job and life's work is on the line, and it rests on your unwilling shoulders."
"Are you planning to drown your sympathy away in alcohol so that you can complete it?" Morai asked with the same bitterness as his drink. The doctor stopped mid-sip, putting his glass to the side.
"Let's make a compromise, then," he sighed. "I need to study your sleep. Everyone knows that you speak and move in your sleep, but not everyone believes that there is a whole other world lying on the other side of your consciousness, and especially not that it influences you in the waking world. All it would take is several electrodes stuck to your head as you sleep here. It's this or this," he stated, picking up the syringe again.
"...I wish I had managed to escape Alola," Morai sighed, hanging her head.
"This place is becoming what it was supposed to be when you first arrived," the doctor said. "Unfortunately for you, the days of toying around with everyone are over for a while. As you leave here and walk down the hall to have breakfast, every guard will have at least one black dart loaded and ready to shoot. I know that the warden instructed them not to hesitate to use whatever means necessary to get any situation under control as quickly as possible. You have very little breathing room now, Morai. As much as you like to fight, compliance is what will keep you from suffocating."
The man called for the guards, who undid the straps tying the prisoner to the chair and put her in handcuffs. Morai walked away with heavy feet, her head beginning to hang despite Shadow Morai's last words.
If I don't manage to escape this place...I'm doomed, she thought. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I might actually have to stay out of everyone's way and...comply. Everything has suddenly become slightly frightening.
As they went to enter the dining hall, a couple of guards posted at the doors stepped in front of them.
"Hey, hey, you can't enter unless invited, right?" one of them laughed.
"You'd better hope Ms. Lochlynn didn't put garlic in your scrambled eggs," the other chimed in with a chuckle. Morai didn't say anything, instead looking at them with a rather sickly-looking frown as she tried to determine what was in their guns. Disappointed that they didn't get a rise out of her, the guards sighed and moved out of the way.
Morai previously had the ability to walk freely around the dining hall before despite choosing the same spot every time, but now she was chained by the wrist to her seat. Pollie arrived not long after her, pausing after receiving her tray as her eyes moved around the room at the different groups that had formed. Finally, she went to sit with the rest of the guards.
"You ever miss being away from this place?" one of them asked another. "Sometimes I forget that we're prisoners in a way too, especially with the boss's new ban on travel."
"Yeah, but it's paying for my vacation in Alola," the other answered with a smirk. "If I last long enough at the Battle Tree, I might just meet Red and Blue!"
"Nah, that was just a rumor," the first guard scoffed. "They've got better things to do than hang around signing autographs and taking pictures."
"I don't know, this new generation seems to be taking things into their own hands. I mean, Dracula over there was fighting evil organizations and taking the Champion's throne left and right, region to region. Oh, speaking of young heroes, Look who's come to take her place at the guard's table!"
"I'm pretty sure I'm as old as you are," Pollie said, setting her tray down and taking a seat. "And I'm no hero."
"Oh, come on!" the first guard scoffed, shaking his head and clapping her on the shoulder. "Look at those battle scars! You singlehandedly took that beast down. I don't think she'd be sitting over there moping if it weren't for you."
"Oh, it feels so good to see that look on her face after all the trouble she's caused us," the other guard gloated, taking his gun out with a smile. "Hey, you!"
Morai, who had been unenthusiastically poking at her breakfast, looked around for the source of the voice.
"Why so sad?" the guard said, obnoxiously chewing his food with his mouth open. "You're back home!"
"I don't see the point in provoking her," Pollie said with a frown.
"Oh, it's just part of the job. It was more fun when she fought back. You'll see. Hey, prisoner! I'm talking to you!"
Morai looked his way with a snarl and pulled on the handcuff around her other wrist that was confining her to her seat at the end of the table.
"Fine then, I'll come to you!" the guard said. Morai rolled her eyes and turned back to her plate, not that she was planning on eating what was on it. The guard, whom she assumed had fought with her before, plopped down next to her while everyone watched and snickered amongst themselves.
"Not particularly hungry today, eh?" he asked. "Or are you looking for something off the menu?"
Then Morai smelled it. The smell of fresh blood saturated her airways and lingered on her tongue. She recoiled and covered her nose and mouth while the young man taunted her with a laugh. He looked back at one of his coworkers, who drew his gun and gave him a nod.
"That's not good sportsmanship," Morai growled. "Even I don't use such underhanded tactics to provoke my opponents."
"You've got it twisted, inmate," the guard answered, waving his arm in front of her face. "This time there won't even be a fight. I just want to see you fall."
The prisoner's claws began to dig into her own face as she struggled to keep her composure. She closed her eyes, but that only seemed make the illusory taste worse and the smell more bold.
You can't do it, she told herself. He'll back out of reach, and you'll get hurt for no reason...but still, it's like my body is trying to move on its—
She jumped forward, her free hand stretched as far as she could reach it, as the man slid himself backward and to the side, opening up a free line of fire from his teammate. Morai changed course and tried to shield herself, but there was nowhere she could go. She expected the familiar pain to appear somewhere on her body, but to her surprise seconds passed with no such result. She opened her eyes and looked above her arm to see Pollie standing with her own gun drawn. From the two darts lying on the ground, one of them leaking black liquid from its broken vial, it seemed that Pollie's dart had intercepted the first one in the split second it had traveled.
"There's no way..." Morai whispered. "That's impossible."
Pollie stood between her and the offending guards.
"Children," she said with crossed arms. "Kicking someone while they're already down is pathetic."
Morai looked up at the new guard in bewilderment. The guard that had provoked her stood up and faced his new teammate.
"That was pretty impressive, but there's no room for empathy here. If you're going to keep that up go back to being a nurse," he said. Pollie stood her ground and the group shifted back to their section of the table as they murmured amongst themselves.
"Take your breakfast to go," she ordered, unlocking the cuff around the table leg and putting it on Morai's other wrist.
Once they had gotten to the hall, Morai laughed.
"How did you do that?" she asked. "I can see three seconds into the future, but I still wouldn't have the foresight and precision needed to do that!"
"I guess I've found a natural talent," Pollie said. "With a ton of practice on top of it, of course."
"You being that good of a shot makes everything more complicated for me," the prisoner sighed. "I'm glad you missed those first two times in Alola, at least. Why did you do that, anyway?"
"Like I already said," Pollie explained, "I don't like you, but by the looks of you you're already paying the price for your actions and chosen life. You're finally on the verge of taking a big step towards the end goal everyone wants, and it would be idiotic to interfere for the sake of ego."
Morai scoffed. "That's big talk coming from someone who was hell-bent on getting revenge. I don't blame you either, but you don't have to pretend you're standing here out of genuine good will. You enjoy seeing me suffer, and I understand why. I hurt you, so it's only fair for me to suffer in return. I—"
"Pollie!" Arthur greeted, going for a stern handshake with the guard. He always seemed to dress somewhere in between captain of the guard and cowboy which, along with the stubble on his face and eyepatch, gave him a rugged look that set him apart from the other guards. The eyepatch was new and Morai was the reason for it after raking him across the face months ago. As soon as the man had arrived, Morai noticed something else new. After setting her tray down, she went to cover her face and back away.
"I heard you were made a guard in my absence. If my wife made the decision, I know you'll be a valuable edition to the team," the man continued. Then his wily eyes shifted to Morai. "And what's wrong with you, then, prisoner?"
"You scheming—you know what you're doing!" she growled, her words muffled by her hands. "You bought that scent off of the Aether employee."
Arthur laughed while Pollie stood beside Morai with knitted eyebrows. "Oh, is that all? I think you could use a little self discipline, inmate. For someone with rigorous training and fighting practices, I'm surprised at your...impulsivity."
"Get me out of here," Morai urgently whispered to Pollie, who seemed to have gotten lost in another thought.
"Well sir, it was nice to meet you as an official guard now, but if you'll excuse us, we've got someplace to be," she said, snapping back to the present and picking up Morai's tray. She exchanged nods with the head guard, who gave Morai a smirk before she was pushed along.
"That's it!" Pollie said excitedly as they walked down the hall. "All of your training and fighting has been taken away from you. You've got nothing to do. You're bored!"
"Well, being locked in a tiny dark room for days doesn't exactly help," Morai sighed. "I think Mrs. Sheridan is either trying to break me or wait until I snap and justify locking me away forever...or worse."
Pollie didn't entertain the thought. Instead, she directed Morai to the piano room.
"You can finish your meal here," she said. "And try to calm down."
She was trying not to show it, but days without blood had left Morai constantly walking a razor thin line that she could cross any moment. Everything in her body was willing her to obtain what she so desperately wanted, but she had just learned of the lengths Sheridan was willing to go to to keep her from it. It was torture either way, but she at least wanted a small amount of freedom before losing composure and being thrown back into the warden's version of solitary confinement.
Morai sighed as she plopped down onto the old couch and began to poke around at her meal. Pollie quickly left to find a chair so that she could sit across from her. When she returned, Morai had set her tray aside.
"Is it that bad?" Pollie asked. "Your cur—I mean...well, you know. Do you think it's a curse?"
"It certainly makes living like this a lot harder," Morai sighed, turning to the side and putting her feet up on the couch. "On the outside, it was a byproduct of my lifestyle. I liked it—and I still do, or course—but I never thought it would be a necessity instead of a simple quirk. It's like...I need it as much as I need water. But surely I can survive without it if I really want to."
"I don't think isolation is helping you, Morai, involuntary or not," Pollie sighed. "Maybe—"
"Hey, hey, don't go in there!"
"Morai?" Maria called, weaseling her way through the guards and bursting into the room. "Morai! There you are!"
Morai shot up from the couch, which momentarily made her dizzy, and saw Maria heading straight toward her. She pendulum stepped backward until she had enough distance to push-kick the approaching trainer gently yet firmly backwards, causing her to stumble. A look of utter betrayal and disappointment crossed Maria's face. Pollie went to help her up, holding onto her arm after she rose.
"Morai?" she asked. "Why...why did you do that?"
"You shouldn't be near me," Morai sighed, not able to look her in the eyes. "I'll end up hurting you. You should leave when Sheridan allows it."
Maria tried to wriggle free from Pollie's gasp, but the guard wouldn't let go.
"What? No!" she exclaimed. "That's...you can't say that! After you saved my life and I saved yours? That doesn't mean anything to you? You don't care?"
"I didn't say that. I...care about you...quite a lot," the prisoner stammered. "Which is why I need you to leave. It's been made clear that I'm barely human anymore, and you deserve someone who is. Someone who won't hurt you."
"I don't care what you are!" Maria cried, desperately trying to break free. Another guard came to Pollie's aid. "I like you! No matter what! Isn't that enough? I'm a nurse, and I can take care of myself. Even if...even if that did happen, we'd get through it. We have to try!"
Morai couldn't take it anymore. She turned around, only partially looking back at the young woman crying and reaching a hand out from beyond a net of arms holding her back. "I'm sorry...Maria."
Maria cried as the guards dragged her away. She made no effort to assist them by walking, planting her heels into the ground instead. Morai didn't look back at her. She knew it had to be done. She shouldn't have excited herself with the possibility that someone might actually like her...even love her...despite what she had become. There was no future with Morai, for she kills everything that dares to reach a hand out to her.
Pollie returned, finding that the prisoner had sunk to her knees. She laid a hand on her shoulder, not quite sure what else to do.
"It seems like you're really trying," she said. "You don't have to push her away forever. Once you get past this, you'll be a step closer to freedom. The freedom to live without fear of unwillingly hurting others."
But maybe it's the people she cares about that will help her move past this in the first place .
"I know the road I've chosen," Morai said. "It's a lonely one. I just didn't expect to meet someone like her on the way to hell. But I can't drag her there with me."
The stress was becoming too much for her to bear. As much as she was confident she had made the right decision, she couldn't calm the hot anger rising to the surface. After all, if she could simply get what she need from anywhere else, she wouldn't have to worry about lashing out at the people she didn't want to hurt—which was a short list. It was Sheridan who had isolated her, and Pollie who carried out Sheridan's orders.
Morai grabbed Pollie's wrist, stood up, and threw her over her shoulder onto the stone floor. The guard was quick, however, and the prisoner found herself with a gun pointed at her. She scoffed and shook her head. Deprivation had made her slower.
"Do it," she sighed, letting go and sitting down. "I need the rest. The wounds from that stupid Persian are still healing."
"Well, now that you've let go you've given me no reason to," Pollie said, standing up and brushing herself off. She was still prepared for Morai to try and push her to the point of shooting. "You can't sleep your problems away forever. Let's just...sit and talk. Can you manage that?"
"I...don't know," Morai answered. "Being around people now is hard. Sheridan ruined that for me. But once they mistakenly look me in the eye..."
A moment of shock and realization flashed across Pollie's face before she realized her mistake. Her hand shot towards her gun, but it was too late. The prisoner breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that what she had gone mad without for days was about to be hers. She drew close the guard, nearly cherishing the moment even though it was saturated with a rushed feeling. As she opened her mouth to sink her teeth into Pollie's neck, the door burst open.
"Don't you do it, Morai!" Sheridan said, aiming her gun at her. The prisoner froze, teeth inches a way from her victim's neck, seconds away from satisfying that unbearable thirst in her burning throat. But even instinct froze at the glimmer of black loaded in the gun as the warden approached. "Back away," she said.
Morai lingered for a moment, a look of pain in her eyes. She had been so close, and she still was, but she wouldn't even get a taste before getting shot and experiencing what was perhaps the worst pain she had ever felt. She closed her eyes in a regretful expression, backing away and getting on her knees with one ankle crossed over the other, like she had gotten used to doing. Sheridan, a bit taken a back, holstered her gun and handcuffed the prisoner.
"I...have to admit," she said with a small chuckle of disbelief, "I'm impressed. I was prepared to pull the trigger."
Morai didn't look at her, instead looking straight ahead with a sort of blank, forlorn stare. She was disturbed by the fact that she had been seconds too late and almost ashamed that she had actually followed someone else's orders without at least trying to defy them. She felt like, well, a prisoner. In her stay before going to Alola, this place had pretty much been a playground despite its occasional holdups. But now, it had become increasingly clear that Morai was in captivity, at the mercy of someone else's orders. She hated it. Sheridan put a hand on her shoulder.
"This is good, Morai," she said. "Keep it up and you won't have to be controlled by something that gets you in trouble. You'll be free."
Pollie rose from the couch, confused, only to turn around and jump slightly at what she saw. She immediately looked at Morai and put a hand to her neck. She looked at the prisoner again, noticing that despite looking sad she wasn't unconscious or writhing on the floor in pain.
"You...didn't do it," she said in disbelief.
"How did you know where I was?" Morai asked. "And why you should intervene?"
Sheridan glanced at Pollie, unsure of how to answer. They both knew that with Morai's defiant nature, she may try to dig the chip out of her own neck.
"I heard what had happened in the dining hall and had come to check on things. I could see you through that window in the door," Sheridan answered. It wasn't a complete lie, she reasoned. The warden had come to realize that her prisoner could probably detect lies. If Morai could sense fear, there was a good chance she could sense someone's level of fear rising when they lied. It took more effort to lie than it did to tell the truth, after all. Still, Sheridan assumed it was better to lie than find Morai bleeding out on the floor.
The prisoner seemed to accept it. In all the darkness and isolation she had recently endured, checking for a chip in her neck in all that time wasn't at the forefront of her mind.
"Well, I've got things to tend to." Sheridan gave Morai a pat on the shoulder, causing her to tense up, which then caused her to question why. "I'm...proud of you, Morai."
Though she didn't mean to, the chief's actions left a bitter taste in Morai's mouth.
Did she really break me? she silently questioned. All of that isolation and deprivation, and here I am sitting patiently on the floor like a Lillipup until I'm told to get up again...that's not me! I've spilled the blood of nearly everyone in the building, so why am I...afraid?