"You never call my name
On the telephone
I just sit and cry
On the telephone"
—"Telephone" from Phsophene Dream by The Black Angels

The dirt hit Max's back before he had a chance to land; with his mind racing so fast, he could hardly bother with balance. He let go of his badge and bag to clutch his head and scarf instead. His breath ran ragged despite his attempts to control it. Every muscle in his body prepared to flee, to fight, to escape to the safety of isolation in a dungeon, and it took every fiber of his being to resist.

Tantalizing detachment floated right in front of him—the badge only took him to the dungeon's entrance. He could so easily run back in and let himself drown in it. Along with the draw of peace from the growing inferno of fear, he could almost hear the dungeon's call. More than ever before, he felt it beg for him to return—to come back to the home he'd left. The home he so desperately needed. Where the world was right, shifting, always changing, safe from the perversion of persistence he faced outside.

His attempts to count the threads of his scarf ran into his inability to feel more than the fabric as a whole. As it fell more and more out of reach, he grabbed his bracelet instead. Beads and string. He opened his eyes to look at the distant apparel and the far off paw that wore it. His eyes refused to focus on it for a while. He could see the blur of colors and suggestions of shapes, but couldn't make out where one bead ended and another began.

As his eyes finally started adjusting, he heard the crunch of grass underpaw. In an instant, an espeon filled his vision despite being much further away than his own wrist. "Neb," he mumbled under his breath. He hoped she could see him holding on, but feared she only saw soulless, black eyes.

An apple floated towards him with a familiar purple aura, but stopped halfway between him and Neb. Max instantly recognized the strategy and sighed in relief as the promise disarmed his instincts. The apple and its true distance from him drew into clearer focus, and with it, so did Neb. She carefully walked up to it and waited for Max's reaction.

Max felt his breath slowly return. He couldn't quite control it, but it began to steady. With a bit of focus, he managed to lessen the tension priming him to pounce. Not completely, but enough for Neb to notice, as she took a cautious step closer.

Her image as a friend replaced that of a predator in his mind. He remembered the many other times she'd come to help him. Their first meeting, the weeks she spent nursing him back to health. It all washed through him and weathered away the terror demanding he flee from himself back into the dungeon, along with the tension that temptation brought.

The relief came so fast that he collapsed, though luckily Neb softened his fall a bit with psychic. The apple found its way in his paws, and he found himself cradled in Neb's embrace. Max let out a sigh of relief. He'd managed to avoid a blackout. Barely, but he still won.

"Glad I came to check up on you," Neb chuckled. Max nodded in agreement and started nibbling on the apple. A few bites did wonders to rejuvenate him enough that he noticed he couldn't see Cori. He tried to sit up and look around for them, but Neb pulled him back down with her tail. "I told them to go home. They looked exhausted."

"Are they okay?" Max asked.

Neb's mouth twisted into a frown, and she said, "Pika-speak."

Max had to hold back a growl. "Pii. Pii, p-p-p—PIKA!" he stuttered out, trying desperately to talk normally. He shook his head and tried a few more times, but couldn't manage a single word.

"It's all right," Neb whispered, running a paw down his back. "You just blacked out. G—"

"Chu!" he argued, then rolled his eyes. No chance of speaking, he shook his head.

"What?" Neb asked with a curious look. Max took a quick breath to prepare himself for an embarrassing bit of charades, but for once, luck took his side, and Neb guessed, "You didn't black out?"

"Pi!" Max agreed, hopping up. He turned the apple around and bit into it some more in celebration.

"Well, that's good," Neb chuckled. "You just don't stop being cute, do you?" The compliment made a chunk of apple catch in his throat and sent him into a coughing fit. "Still," Neb said, patting his back with one paw while the other pulled him back into her embrace. "You came awful close, and you're exhausted." The coughing fit passed just enough for him to lay back. "Relax. Let yourself rest."

Max sighed and mumbled, "Fine." Hopefully she'd get the gist. He let himself rest against her and felt all the exhaustion from the day hit him at once. All those hordes he fought mostly alone left him sore all over, even despite the several orans he'd chowed down. And this was supposed to be an easy mission. So many ferals for such a little dungeon. He shook his head and took in a deep breath, then let out a long sigh. As tired as his body was, he felt significantly more mentally exhausted.

The apple helped him relax, at least. The more he ate it, the more he felt tension leaving him. His body still ached, but it felt number with every bite. In fact, the aches felt somewhat soothing as his eyelids started drooping, as if they were crying out in relief for their rest.

He only realized he'd fallen asleep when he woke up in his house. At first, he wondered if he'd dreamt it all, but Cori's face yanked him out of that consideration when it appeared an inch from his face.

"PIKA!" he shouted, leaping back.

"I told you he'd wake up soon," Neb said. Max looked at her, then back at Cori, his gaze bouncing between them both for a minute while he tried to figure out what they were doing there.

Wait why did it matter why—this was his house! "Y'all can't just—I deserve some privacy, y'know!" he shouted. Their looks of concern felt vindicating for a moment.

"Still can't talk?" Cori probed, torching his catharsis.

"Give him a moment," Neb said. "You clearly gave him quite the scare."

"They didn't scare me," Max grumbled with a sneer (that deepened when he heard his own speech). He hoped Neb guessed right and tried to calm down. His brush sat right where he left it, so he plucked it off the ground and started running it through his fur. Even without many tangles to straighten out, it felt soothing. After a few quick runs down his sides, he turned to his headfur and tried styling it out like he had last time. Yesterday? Or was it the same day?

"Oh, you did that on purpose yesterday?" Cori asked. At least it answered his unasked question, and he could take care of the rest with a light glare when he nodded toward them. "Wh-what?" They crumpled under his glare and frustrated his revenge. He couldn't be petty for even a second.

"It's cute," Neb said, instantly tumbling Max into a flurry of embarrassed gratitude. "Certainly unconventional, but so are most fun things."

Max nodded along in desperate hope that they could move on. "S-so," he mumbled. Hearing proper words gave him a lungful of relief. "What was that… thing?" He looked over to Cori.

They still seemed a bit down from the glare but quickly shook the worry off their expression to answer, "Oh, that floor place?" Max nodded. "I don't know. Do all dungeons have a place like that?"

"What?" Max asked. "No, not at all." With his hair roughly styled enough for the time being, he dropped the brush by his side and tried to remember that area. He held up his paw, remembering the feeling of it crawling up his arm, pulling him in. The memory made him shiver.

"Was there something unusual about the dungeon?" Neb asked.

"Cori didn't tell you?" Max asked.

"Sorry," Cori mumbled.

Max glanced at them and asked, "What?" They crumpled under the weight of his question, so he dismissed it. "It's fine, not like you did anything wrong." He gave Cori a smile when they looked up and turned back to Neb. "How deep into a dungeon have you gone?"

Neb looked up in thought, then leaned over and past her forepaws in a stretch. "I don't usually need to go more than a few floors, but I've certainly been…," she shook her head and stood back upright. "Oh, I don't know the exact number. Why?"

"So, you know how dungeons change when you go deeper?" Max asked. When Neb gave a slow nod, he went on. "Well, on the fifth floor, there was this big distortion that, like. Usually, I only feel them after I pass them. I think I've only seen one a pawful of times before." The feeling of the dripping distortion started crawling up his paw and yanked it closer with his other. He had to look down to convince himself it wasn't there. He tried to continue telling the story but couldn't find the words to call on.

"Are you all right?" Neb asked.

Max found himself instinctively shaking his head. "It…," he mumbled, a shiver crawling down his spine. "It felt so wrong, but. I couldn't help it. It's like it was calling me." When his back hit the wall behind him, he realized he'd been backing away. "I even felt it outside the dungeon." The temptation still tormented his mind. Even so far from any dungeon, he felt the call to return.

Again, he tried to continue the explanation, but no words came. Worse, he could feel his speech slipping even before he made any coherent sounds. Had it already consumed him? Had he lost himself in the dungeon?

Cori's paw grabbed his shoulder and yanked him out of his self-inflicted torment. "Hey, Max?" they said. "Max! You're out, okay? It's all right." That cloud of horror over his mind shifted slightly, letting him look up to see the totodile's worried, but smiling, face.

Neb didn't move to approach, but she gave him a similarly comforting smile. "Let's take a break from that," she offered. Max breathed a sigh of relief. "You or Cori can fill me in on the rest later." The thought of talking about it later tightened his chest, but he tried to move on. He felt scales rubbing against his paw and looked down to see Cori grabbing it (as well as realize he'd been clutching his scarf).

It took a surprising amount of effort to let go of the scarf. He only barely managed. Holding Cori's paw felt a bit strange, but pokémon touched each other more than… he vaguely remembered humans doing. Maybe that'd just been him, though. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Cori nodded and cuddled up against him. They felt… awfully cold. In fact, he thought he felt them shaking. "Are you shivering?" he asked. It felt a bit chilly, but he didn't think it was that cold.

Instead of answering, Cori curled up against him tighter. "They don't have fur like we do," Neb explained with a chuckle.

"O-o-or-rrrr b-w-w-warm blood," they chattered.

"Oh," Max said, starting to get up and look for a blanket, but then remembered Cori was clinging onto him. He twisted his mouth down in thought and perked up when an idea struck him. "Here." He grabbed at them with a smirk. With a quick tug and hard pull, he yanked them up into his lap and cradled them tight.

This didn't embarrass them like he'd hoped. Instead, they just readjusted and curled their chilly belly around his warm chest. Their weight tugged him down a bit until he hit the wall behind him. He looked to Neb for help, but she just laughed at his plight.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Neb chuckled.

"Neb!" Max shouted. At least the blush made him warmer for Cori. "F-for—it's warm—it'-pi ka pi!" He tried to hide behind Cori, but couldn't get his face out of her sight. "A-anyway—God!" he tried to change the subject, but heard his own speech faltering again. At least the frustration lessened the embarrassment somewhat.

Only somewhat.

"So, yesterday," Neb said, graciously changing the subject for Max. "You seemed to be trying to tell me you hadn't blacked out. That right?" Still unsure of his speech, Max nodded, and Neb gave a slight frown in response. "Yet, it's still affected you to this degree." He felt his ears flatten against his head. He would've slouched over if he didn't have a Cori to hold up. "You seemed to have it under control when I first got here."

"Y-yeah," Max blurted out, feeling too defensive to check his speech first. Luckily, he had it for now. "The other mystery dungeons were normal." A bit of a squirm worked its way up his back.

"They didn't have that… distortion floor?" Neb asked, and Max nodded. She bobbed her head in thought, but kept a discerning eye on the chu. "How many floors deep did you go into the other dungeons?" The question gave him pause as he tried to think of a precise number, but she didn't wait for an answer. "I don't think this is solely because of that floor."

Max narrowed his eyes at that, her piercing gaze now feeling judgmental. "I haven't been in a dungeon for weeks," he spat. "It's not because I've been doing this."

Instead of arguing his point, Neb giggled—an even more infuriating response. "That's my point," she said, making a fire rise in his chest.

"What is?!" Max shouted.

"Huh?!" Cori mumbled, bolting out of a light slumber—and, consequently, Max's arms. He tried to catch them before they fell but didn't grab in time to help.

"S-sorry," Max grumbled. The shout had surprised him almost as much.

As Cori scrambled back up, Neb wrapped a blanket around them and used it to gently nudge them against the wall beside Max. "You're not okay," Neb said. Max almost argued in Cori's defense when he realized she was talking about him. "You're still grieving. It's going to make your dungeon sickness worse." He tried to temper his inexplicable anger and listen. "You mentioned feeling a strong draw to the dungeon?"

"Yes?" Max said. The cogs started turning, but he let her finish the thought for him.

"Dungeon sickness preys on emotional torment," Neb explained. "A pokémon happy and content with their life isn't usually eager to throw away their mind to avoid hurting." Realization hit Max like a ton of bricks. "Dungeons aren't themselves all that alluring. It's how they make you feel, or," she gave him a pointed look, "how they make it so you don't."

Without Cori in his arms, Max could comfortably slump back against the wall. "What's your solution?" he asked, words coated in venom. "I lay around and wait until I can cheer up?"

That amused look on Neb's face almost drove him insane, so he crossed his arms and looked away. "I think it's important that you stay active, actually," she said. "Get you back to your normal self. You're quite the rambunctious little rodent when you let yourself be."

Cori giggled long enough to stop when Max shot them a death glare. When they collapsed under it, he shifted it to Neb. His teeth grit against each other as if trying to hold back a torrent of fury, but he couldn't really think of what he'd say if he let himself. In all honesty, he wasn't quite sure why he was so mad. Not that he'd ever admit that.

Someone else, however, was incredibly sick of his indolent incalcitrance.

"He's unsure the source of his anger, but fears letting go of it," Dark Matter said from just far enough that Max couldn't reach even with a lunge—but that didn't stop him from trying. It swept itself out of his grasp when he jumped to grab it and floated over to Neb. Max considered going for the tackle anyway. "Hello, Neb, it is quite a pleasure to finally meet you."

Neb leaned back a bit and squinted at the speck. "Hello?" she said. At a loss, she looked to Cori for an explanation.

Max saw the disaster falling into motion. The memory of her fear chilling his fur as she explained the myth he'd lived through, and that vice grip on his heart of her agonizing worry from hearing the name alone. Context he had, but Cori lacked. He tried to stare over to them and gesture silence, but they had their eyes trained on Dark Matter and Neb. His heart dropped into his stomach when Cori opened their mouth to answer.

"Oh, that's Dark Matter," they said.

Neb blinked. She glanced at the speck, back at Cori, then finally to Max as if waiting for a reasonable explanation. "L-look, so—look, uh," he stammered, trying to find the right words. "After we stopped it, I kinda… started rehabilitating it?" Neb's expression remained the same, and Max assumed this meant she needed more reassurance. "But—but! I know it's-how it sounds, but it's actually not so bad when you get to know it!" He tried to force a smile to comfort her.

"You've said much kinder to me before, you know," Dark Matter complained. "Must you become wholly unconvincing when your nerves get the best—," it shot away from Max's grasp, "of you."

Max lunged for it again, committing enough this time that he couldn't keep his balance when he landed. His momentum slammed his chest into the ground while his hindpaws slipped back and over him while he slid until he smacked his forehead into the wall.

Neb burst out laughing at the display. While better than fear, Max found this much more annoying. She brought a paw to her mouth to muffle her laughs, but it didn't help any. "You were made to be his nemesis," she chuckled.

"I'm likely his closest remaining friend," it argued. This got Cori to join in the laughter.

Max laid on his stomach where he landed and held his tail over his head to try and hide from the humiliation. While they couldn't see him, he could still hear them, so it didn't help him in the slightest. Why did he have friends again? For the first time in a while, he considered the life he could've led had he never left the dungeons.

"I try and call your phone
But you're never home"

"You're supposed to turn them in the same day, you know," Pelipper negged.

Max ignored her as best he could and kept putting the items on the counter while Cori did the same with their mission fliers. "Sorry about that," Max said. "We need to report a change in the Dungeon, though."

Pelipper squinted her eyes at him. "It's a Dungeon," she said. "They're always changing."

"Yes," Max growled, doing his best to reign himself in. "But it had a strange floor after the fifth."

"After the fifth?" Pelipper asked, crossing her wings. "The dungeon only has five floors."

Deep breath in. Long breath out. "That's what I mean," Max said. "We were in the fifth floor when we saw it." He plopped the last item on the counter a bit too forcefully and shook his head. "Can you just tell me who I can report this to?" This was already too drawn out.

"You probably just lost count," Pelipper said, not answering Max's question.

"We—" Max would've bit down on his paw if she couldn't see him. He considered biting her but decided that wouldn't help things and held off. For now. "Well. If we did, the floor was still weird." He did his best to take her down with a commanding glare, but she was matching the items to their mission fliers.

"We're really busy, kid," she said. "I could waste my time finding the contact information for that branch of whatever agency you would even tell that to. Or," she finally looked down to meet Max's gaze. "I could get these filed away in time for your pay to come in the mail tomorrow.

"Come on!" Max shouted. As if she didn't have enough time for both! He knew for a fact she was full of shit, but the look on her face showed no chance of even slightly changing her mind. It took another few deep breaths, but he just barely managed to keep himself from cussing her out. "Fine. Forget it." He turned around and dragged Cori along by the shoulder. "C'mon, Cori, let's go."

"B-but!" Cori started to argue, but they stopped the first chance they got to see Max's eyes. Once they got out of the building, Max let go of them, but he didn't stop walking. Even when Cori did, he was too mad to notice the lack of paws plopping behind him, so they had to grab his tail to stop him.

Max spun around, slapped the paw that touched his tail with even more rage burning in his eyes, and shouted, "Don't touch that!" Cori jumped back, clutching their paw, so Max slapped his own over his face. "Sorry." He shook his head and dragged his paw down to squeeze his nubbins around his nose. "I'm not—"

"Sorry," Cori interrupted. Realizing they interrupted him, their eyes shot wide and they quickly blurted out another, "S-sorry!"

"Stop," Max grumbled, trying to temper his frustration.

"Sorry—I mean!" Cori clapped a paw over their mouth in shame.

"It's. Fine." Max growled through grit teeth.

"Sorry," Cori mumbled.

It was getting less fine (and it already wasn't actually fine). "I. Yelled at. You," Max said. "I'm the one who should be sorry, understand?" Cori looked at him like they wanted to argue, but Max's glare bit their tongue for them. "Good. You all right?"

"Mhm!" Cori said with a panicked nod.

Max rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Okay," he said. They didn't even slightly convince him, but it wasn't worth pursuing anyway. "I have someone else who I think might help. You know that gengar?"

"You know Jake?!" Cori asked. "He's a legend! Did you know he's a Grand Master rescuer?!" As if a switch had flipped, they started bouncing from paw to paw with wide, star-struck eyes. Max tried not to cringe.

"Yeah, we…," he had to resist rolling his eyes when he remembered their first meeting. "It's been a while, but, yeah." Of course, given how their last meeting turned shouting match ended…. Perhaps it was good he didn't know how to contact Jake directly. When he remembered their mutual 'friend', though, he slapped his paw over his face again.

It just wasn't ever easy, was it?

"I try and call your phone
But you're never home
You watch me sit outside
You watch me wait and try"

"Max?" Cori asked. "We've been walking in a circle for a while now."

"No," Max said. They were right, but that didn't give them the right to say it. "It's—look, the neighborhood just, well—fine." He could already see the horrible blue building they'd passed tens of times breaching the horizon again. "It's just that, the last time I talked to her, uh." His mind wandered back to that dark, freezing night alone. Her warm embrace. Her just being their was enough to make him feel less alone then. He had so much gratitude to give her.

But the last time he saw her, which was also their very first meeting, was him sobbing uncontrollably, which made him feel beyond awkward. He had done everything he could to never see her again for fear of the embarrassment he'd no doubt feel just from being seen again.

"Max?" a familiar voice asked. His fur stood on end. "Is everything all right? I haven't seen you in a while! How have you been?"

"H-hey! Hi—good!" he said, spinning around with the most forced smile he'd ever managed to greet the ampharos. "How are is it did, Amphy, you going?" Oh, how he longed to rip out his treacherous tongue.

Amphy mercifully muffled her chuckle with a paw. "Well, that's more words than I got out of you last time!" she said. She reached down and ruffled his headfur, and he was too flustered to try and fix the damage to how he'd styled it. "Are you friends? I don't think I've met you." Stepping a bit to the side, she extended a paw to Cori. "Like you heard, I'm Amphy."

"Hey!" Cori said with the effortlessness of someone who hadn't cried their eyes out into her wool. "I'm Cori, and yeah! We're partners!"

"Oh," Amphy said. "So that's why he's so nervous." When Max's heart stopped, she noticed the badge on his bag and chuckled. "Oh, like a team." Finishing the paw-shake, she slapped the same one over her forehead. "Well, did you need something?" Max nodded, still not quite together enough to speak. She watched him expectantly, though, so he had no choice.

"S-so, have you heard from Jake recently?" he asked. If she was acting so normally about it, maybe he was worried over nothing. The thought alone made him want to roll his eyes. As if.

"Oh, Jake? Not recently, why?" she asked.

"Nothing big, just wanted to ask him about Dungeon stuff," he said.

"Well, he's certainly the one to ask about that sort of thing!" Amphy said. "I'll tell him to get in touch, that all right?"

Max let out a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe it wasn't so bad. "That sounds perfect, thanks," he said.

Amphy nodded, and Max prepared to pat himself for a mission accomplished. "Here, follow me to the office," she said. "I'll make some tea while we wait." Of course. Why did he expect any different. She beckoned the two and started off toward the office they'd first met in.

Max skittered up next to her to try and talk himself out of this, saying, "Well, it's all right! We don't want to impose, and who knows how long it'll take for him to get your. Message?" Now that he thought about it, how was she getting in contact with him?

"He usually answers his badge pretty quickly if it's me," Amphy said. Max tilted his head up at her, then reached for his own badge. They had messaging? Noticing his well telegraphed confusion, she chuckled and shook her head. "It's some new badge design they're trying out with the higher ranks. I don't know how they work," she gave him a shrug, "but they only tell you who sent the message."

"Oh, like a pager," Max answered.

"A what?" Cori asked.

It was a miracle more people hadn't figured out he used to be a human. "They're, uh, I read about them in a book," Max said, looking at Cori but trying to steal glances up to Amphy to see if she was buying it. "M-maybe that's where they got the idea for them?" Since Jake used to be a human, too, maybe they were his idea.

A sudden, comforting warmth surprised Max. When he looked around for an explanation, he realized he was so in his own head he hadn't notice they'd made it all the way to the hideous zangoose head of a building.

"It's still pretty early," Amphy said. "Did you want black tea?"

"Yeah!" Cori said.

"Yes, please," Max answered, cursing himself for failing to talk himself out of this. That Goddamned curiosity of his, he just had to ask her about the stupid pager-badges.

"Well, have a seat," Amphy yelled from the other room. "I've just sent for him, so he'll probably be here a bit after I finish the tea."

"Sounds good!" Cori called for the both of them. After taking a seat at the yellow beanbag in the corner, Max craned his neck to make sure she was out of eye shot and buried his face in his paws. "Max?" Cori whispered, tapping him on the shoulder. "You all right?"

Max shook his head while embarrassed sparks bounced from his cheeks into his paws and said, "It's a long story." He let out a tired groan and flopped back into the bean bag. God, how he missed beds. He'd gotten used to hay, but still wished they had stuff this comfy to sleep on… wait, they did stuff this comfy—he was laying on it! He scrunched himself back into the bag and let himself sink in. "Where did you get this seat?"

"One moment!" Amphy called back. She didn't take too long to poke her head out of the doorway and look at what he meant. "Oh, that was a donation to us. It's so pokémon don't have to wait on that ratty old loveseat."

Max nodded passively along to the answer. Focusing got a lot harder when laying on the most comfortable seat he'd had in years. After a while, he'd even forgotten sitting on the ground or hay brought their own discomforts, and living in the wild probably exacerbated that process. His eyes grew heavier without his notice as he sank to the deepest point of the bag, sinking simultaneously to a speedy slumber.

Some force started dragging him by the hindpaw. He tried to look down at what it was, but instead found couldn't see his own paws—his own body. The force acted alone, not even accompanied by the sensation of the ground it had to be dragging him along. Limbs he couldn't feel flailed around in impotent resistance as violent reds took the horizon in front of him.

The sight immediately reminded him of that dream from a few nights ago, and he tried with renewed desperation to claw himself out of whatever had him by the ankle. Suddenly, he felt another force pulling him back. It latched onto his shoulder and yanked him back with sudden jerks. A voice called his name, one he recognized, but couldn't place. The hold on his hindpaw grew tighter, but he felt the one on his shoulder gaining ground.

Two forces fought to drag him to somewheres he couldn't know. They tugged and yanked at him to bring him in opposite directions, but in lieu of a destination to hope for, he only felt them ripping him apart from the base of his soul. He tried shaking again, but this time felt the grip on his ankle loosening. The voice became clearer, too, and just as he felt his hindpaws drop, he could finally make it out as Cori's.

Max leapt out of the beanbag and discharged an aimless shock all around him, screaming, "Let me go!" Ragged breaths came out in bursts as he shoved his back against the wall, eyes darting all around to find what had a hold on him.

When Amphy rushed in to help, he snapped out of his fight or flight, but the panic still remained. A dream, it was just a dream.

"What happened? Are you two okay?!" Amphy asked.

"I-I'm okay," Cori said with their eyes trained on Max. "I was just trying to wake him up, 'cause he looked upset."

His heart raced no matter how hard he tried to force it still. "Max?" Amphy asked. "What's wrong?"

A simple answer, but he couldn't trust himself to speak when he was this upset. He brought a paw to his scarf while the other wrapped his tail around his front. "A-it," he mumbled to check his speech. "Dream. It was just a dream." He stared down at his scarf while he counted its threads so he wouldn't have to see them staring at him. "Sorry."

Amphy carefully plodded over to the corner he'd retreated to and bent down to run a paw down his back. "Hey, it's all right," she cooed. "It was just a bad dream. A little nightmare, nothing to worry about."

"I know," he spat back on instinct. He was terrified out of his mind, not ten—well, maybe he was physically around that age, but that's only because pokémon ages were weird and he wasn't even really a pokémon, so—He shook his head and shrunk down into himself. "Sorry."

Amphy kept petting him, humming a slow tune. She knew just where to scratch, too. Max found himself relaxing and leaning into her paw a little bit. "You sure you want black tea and not something more relaxing?" she asked.

Max rushed to nod—he did not want to fall asleep again, not for a while. "D-do you have any of the… those nuts? Berries? Chest nuts?" he asked.

"Chesto berries?" she asked. He nodded again. "I'll check if I have any mixes like that, but I certainly have the leaves somewhere at the very least. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, thanks," he mumbled.

"No problem," she said, petting him one last time, patting his head twice, and pushing herself up. "The water's hot enough, so it'll be out in just a minute." As soon as she walked away, Cori came over to take her place.

"Didn't you say something about a bad dream a couple days ago? Was this that one?" they asked.

"Sort of," he mumbled. The reminder of the dream alone shriveled him into himself.

Cori gave him a pat on the shoulder and a smile. "I'm here, okay?" they said.

Max nodded his head and forced himself up, trying to shake the terror out of himself. "I'm okay," he said. Cori tilted their head and eyed his tail, which he still clutched around his chest. "Wh-what? It's cold." Wait, they were way more sensitive to the cold. Despite knowing better, Cori nodded along and moved to the mat that had shown up in the room while Max slept.

Max followed and took a seat adjacent to them right when Amphy came out with a tray preceding a trail of steam. "Here we are," she sang, placing the tray down in front of them. Max recognized the arrangement as fairly similar to Neb's, a pot in the middle with cups on plates, though Amphy had added a nice plate of cookies spiraling in on themselves. She put their cups in front of them and sat across from them with her own.

"Thanks!" Cori cheered, jumping to shove a pawful onto their plate (after tossing a couple down their maw first).

Max smiled and nodded in agreement, but went for his tea first instead. The aromatic cup warmed his shaking paws as he brought it up to his nose and took a deep breath. The earthy black held precedent over lighter, sweeter scents. The warmth went through his nose and down his throat as he breathed it in deep, coating all that the steam touched in a sweet miasma of fruit and just a hint of tangy berries that lingered even after he blew out the earthy black overtone to cool his first sip.

Even so warm it could almost burn, it flowed over his tongue and down his throat so smoothly it could've just been the steam. Already, he felt the lingering drowse of his nap dripping away as his mind grew clear, alert. It tasted so sweet, felt so refreshing that it swirled in his stomach and pulsed out with every beat of his heart and pulled his lips into a cheek-defying smile. His tail stuck out and up while he closed his eyes and sighed out a happy, "Chaaaa!"

"Oh, I'm so glad you like it!" Amphy said. A more material awareness shot Max's eyes open. He wasn't the only one in this room. There were at least two others. He put the cup down and wiped his mouth (as an excuse to cover his cheeks). "Don't worry, Max. We're all friends here." The claim made him stiffen on instinct, but he tried to shake off his nerves.

Cori muffled some incomprehensible question beside him and held out a cookie. Max turned to see their cheeks stuffed with the confections and didn't bother suppressing a chuckle as he went to grab the offered treat. "Thanks," he said, and Cori muffled more incomprehensible gibberish in response. He chomped down on the cookie and got a mouthful of dry lemon tart that needed more tea to swallow.

That smile his cup of tea brought him hadn't left. Watching Cori stuff their face and Amphy's words of comfort brought another warm feeling in his chest to match the one his tea had given him. He cozied into his scarf with the tea in his paws and breathed the steam in again. It felt so warm and comfy, inside and out.

As their little tea party built up its steam, the door opened to let in a rush of cold. "You rang?" Jake called. Max turned around and their eyes met. The nervous butterflies torturing Max's stomach had no effect on the gengar; Jake had his usual grin rivaling the width of his entire body. "Not a coincidence you're here, I'm guessing."

"Close the door you feral," Amphy giggled.

Max flinched. She said more, but he couldn't hear it. He knew he shouldn't have cared but couldn't let go of the throwaway insult. The chill had grown colder even when Jake closed the door.

"Anyone in there?" Jake jeered. Max noticed he'd phased into the ground a few inches in front of his face at the same time that he felt Jake knock on his head.

Max recoiled away and put a paw up to block him, shouting, "Hey!" His paw hit air while Jake's grating laughter assaulted his hearing. He glared at Jake only to get that same frustrating grin in return. Maybe he should've asked someone else. Anyone else. Nobody, even, if this was his only option.

"Hi, sir, hello, Jake sir?" Cori babbled as they ran up to the gengar. "You're—are you really a grand master like they say?!" Their excitement had them shifting from side to side, because they could only barely manage to keep themselves from jumping.

A flash of understanding lit Jake's eyes, and he said, "Oh, wanted me to meet a fan?" Max held himself back from saying no. He might hate the stupid ghost, but Cori was excited. Besides, he needed to calm down. To answer Cori's question, Jake reached behind Cori's head and pulled a pure gold badge out from behind it.

Shock and realization flashed on Cori's eyes when they saw the badge (they must have never seen the trick before). "You are!" they cheered.

"Indeed I am," Jake said. He had his eyes closed, mouth pulled into the widest shit eating grin Max had ever seen, with both arms behind his back. "Let me guess, did you want something like…," he reached behind Cori from the other side, this time pulling out Cori's badge with some writing on the top right wing. "An autograph?"

Okay, that one was a bit more impressive.

Cori howled in amazement, hopping up to grab their own badge and look at it. On one paw, seeing him humor Cori like this made Max glad the gengar wasn't a complete ass; on the other, he felt a bit bitter that Jake treated him significantly worse. For Cori's sake, he decided to focus on the former and keep on a (somewhat forced) smile.

Jake pat Cori's head and looked down at them, asking, "What's your name, kid?"

Originally patting them, Jake's hand now kept Cori from flying into the stratosphere. "Cori!" they shouted. Max had to bite down on his cheek to keep from laughing: Neb had no idea what she was talking about if she thought he was cute when Cori existed.

"Nice to meet ya, Cori," Jake said, then looked over to Max. "Was that all?" he asked with a knowing look.

"No," Max said. Good thing Cori had him holding back laughter, since now he could talk to Jake with an emotion other than unbridled rage. "We went on a mission yesterday."

"Oh, you two are in a team together?" Jake asked.

"Yep! We're Team Hazard—and I came up with that name!" Cori said. Jake chuckled and pat Cori on the head again, but kept his eyes on Max.

Max nodded to confirm, and went on, "We noticed something weird in the Dungeon, though." Jake's eyes twitched for an instant—barely long enough to notice, but somehow, Max did. He shook his head, though, trying to assume he'd imagined it. "We were on the fifth floor, right?" He paused to let Jake nod along, and didn't see the twitch this time. "Then, there was another distortion. This was Thunderwave Cave—that Dungeon only has five floors."

"About five," Jake said.

Max narrowed his eyes. "About?"

"Well, yeah," Jake chuckled. "Those are suggestions—averages. I figured you would know that by now." Max felt his ears burn at the sneering condescension that had completely replaced the ghost's amused tone.

"What?" Max mumbled. He scanned Jake for another twitch, a flinch, some giveaway like he'd seen earlier. "No, they're not. They never have been."

Jake rolled his eyes; Max clenched his teeth. "Don't worry, rookie," Jake sneered. "You'll figure it out once you've been in more Dungeons." When Max opened his mouth to argue, Jake shot him a glance to pin him in place. "How many have you been in." Breath fled Max; incredulity hit him in the chest. Jake knew exactly what he was doing. Cori knew the truth, but Amphy didn't. And Max didn't want her to. And Jake knew that. "Look, kid," Jake chided. Max felt a snarl flash his teeth. "Wearing a scarf and pretending you saved the world is fine, but only if you remember that it's a fantasy."

Rage overwhelmed Max. Sparks bounced off his cheeks before he could even tell he'd started charging them. "J-Jake," Amphy said. "I know you like to tease, but please." She rushed between the ghost and mouse. "He's a sensitive boy. Give him a break. He doesn't know any better."

"I wasn't born yesterday!" Max shouted. Amphy flinched away, then looked back at him in shock, but he didn't care. He couldn't make himself. It took all his restraint to keep his glare towards Jake from turning to a threat—or skipping straight to an attack. Instead, he let the sparks bounce down his cheeks while a growl rumbled in the back of his throat, grabbed his bag and went for the door.

"M-Max?" Cori called out. Max ignored them and rushed out, slamming the door behind him.

"And much to my surprise,
I caught you on the number 9
You never called my name
On the telephone"

Max gasped air into empty lungs and shot up. A paw clutched his throbbing chest while his oxygen starved mind tried to regain function. Spots of darkness and light flew around his vision like matter and dark matter in a new universe's Afterglow. The harsh throbbing of his heartbeat drummed against his skull as the only sound he could make out. Every breath felt insufficient. He could only gasp in more.

"Get up," commanded a familiar voice. The same one that had turned on him the night before. He looked up in panic, but could only make out blinding swaths of color. "What? Did you 'forget' how to get up, too?" His failing breath couldn't support the demand, but he desperately tried anyway. He rolled forward to stand, but then fell forward gasping for air.

Panic grew from his chest at the failure. Had the blinding colors turned red again? He couldn't see anymore, but knew for certain they would be. And now, he knew he had no escape. His gasping breath grew distant as terror overwhelmed his mind. He didn't have the strength to clutch his chest anymore, so his paw did it for him.

"Max?"

"Pi… pichu," he whimpered out in apology as the sense of failure severed his soul from his heart. He felt a relaxing absence of torment replace the panic as the throbbing sensation in his chest faded.

"No—Max! Don't—"

A flash of regret, then a flood of dissociation. He'd call it relief, but he wasn't around to feel or think such things for now. To call it anything, he'd have to be.