"And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had"
—"Mad World" from The Hurting by Tears for Fears
The warmth of blood pooled in Max's paw while he clutched it over his nose. Probably broken, but he could still breath through it. Even if doing so coated his tongue in iron's metallic sting. It also hurt. A lot. Obviously. That would've sucked enough on its own, but it also meant he wasn't in a nightmare. The replicants of his friends really were surrounding him, one with a horrifying mouth ripping out of their stomach in a familiarly infuriating smile.
Max tried to swing his tail up on instinct, but the meticulously wrapped bandages held it down. Puffing his belly out when 'Neb' wrapped it made the wrappings a bit looser, but he still didn't have enough room to wiggle it out. He reached his claws down to scratch at it. Not to cut it, he didn't have the time for it, but to kindle and isolate plenty of surface fibers away from each other.
"What's wrong?" 'Eleos' asked. The stomach mouth on 'Cori' opened to continue, "I expected more fight from you." The restriction made it way harder to pull electricity in, too. Luckily, he still had plenty in his cheeks, and he knew the best way to solve his problems. "C'mon," 'Cori's' stomach mouth chided. "I'm not coming anywhere near you. I can tell you're trying to charge."
"That's fine," Max said. He didn't need anyone else around him for this to work, though that did give him an idea. If this was going to hurt like hell, he might as well try to make it hurt someone else, too. Fire wouldn't do much to either a water or a fire type, though, giving him only one real option. He ripped a shock out from his cheeks, into his own chest, and once the bandages burst into flame, he threw himself at the fake Neb to his right.
Flames engulfed him in seconds, but he didn't hit hide nor hair of the fake espeon before slamming into the ground. "What the fuck?!" the three called in a chorus before bursting into one laugh in three different registers. "You're—wow! I knew you were hard headed, but this?" All three talked in unison, now. "This fight's gonna be fun." They all still sounded like his friends, but had given up on trying to imitate their speaking styles. It only kept up their pitches, but still, Max could almost recognize the voice.
In hopes that the bandages had charred enough, he reached down to tear them off and hopped away from the blaze. With it between him and the doppelgangers, he took the chance to run away again. They seemed more like just one person at this point, so maybe the fake Neb wouldn't actually be able to outrun him. He looked over his shoulder as he turned a corner, and a blast of water hit him from around the corner while he wasn't looking.
His tail had the chance to save his balance this time, at least, but he had to wait for it to stabilize before using an iron tail to defend against the water blasting him. Once he did, he looked back behind him, but the cavern was empty. He knew he was slow, but no one could go all the way around that fast.
No way out but to fight. Max pulled in a charge and jumped to the side, launching a shock the instant he had a sight-line on the 'totodile'. The attack landed, and he used the opportunity to dash out of the tunnel. The way it spasmed made it seem that, whatever it really was, it shared the weakness of its assumed form. The other two fakes were halfway out of a wall. Were they ghosts? Or just illusions? His nose throbbed, as if hearing his thoughts and reminding him they had at least been real enough to make him bleed.
As Cori's fake stopped spasming, the cursed chorus sang, "You don't hesitate to hurt your friends, do you?" Max felt his mouth pull itself back into a snarl. "Well, I suppose it makes sense. How did you get here, after all?" All three stared at him with impossibly wide grins while he fought against the need to scream at them by scarfing down an oran. He needed to stay calm. Once they were knocked out or dead, he could mutilate them as he pleased. For now, he needed to keep his control.
"Pii pika pi," Max growled, pulling his tail up to defend. The three ghouls had a laugh at his slip, but he needed to not care, and it paid off when a blast of fire threatened to engulf him from the left. He swiped it away with an iron tail and retaliated by launching another shock at the totodile. Focus damage on one threat at a time until it's gone, then have less to deal with.
The totodile started dodging to the left, but it still had enough residual charge in it to correct the attack's path for him. Max kept an eye on the other two while tracking it in his periphery and saw both the espeon and charmander flinch at the same time. Was he dealing with more than one threat, then?
A pulsing ray of pink and purple from the espeon answered with an answer of 'functionally, yes.' He hid behind his iron tail on instinct, but the beam hardly dispersed, passing right through it and nailing him in the head. It was a pretty weak blow, but it still made his head spin enough to stumble. Another plume of flame shot out at him and engulfed him before he had a chance to swipe it away. His iron tail had stayed up, but the heat still singed his fur.
His nose had just stopped bleeding, too. He dug into his bag for another oran and hoped he didn't have any burns to worry about. "Haven't you had enough to eat?" Neb's voice whispered into his right ear.
Max shouted, "Kapi?!" and jumped to the left, launching an impotent shock at empty air. Looking around, everyone stayed roughly where they'd been before. Was it confusion? No, then it would've still been affecting him. It must've been the same ability that made him hear that conversation between Eleos and Cori earlier. How long had they messed with him?
Instincts clawed at his mind, telling him to hide against the wall, that standing out in the open like this was suicide, but he tried to shake them out of his head. Whatever these doppelgangers were, they could go through walls. He needed to be able to see them before they attacked.
Another psybeam shot from the espeon, but he ducked under it in time for a jet of water to rinse his unguarded side. He had no chance against three. His tail turned to stem the tide cutting into his side, but he didn't dodge out of the way. He needed this to hit. The thunderbolt had stunned them before, but he needed to end it.
He pulled every charge out of the air around him, even pulling crackles and pops from the water assaulting him and stepped deeper into the stream so the others couldn't see him either. It hurt like hell, but at least his tail stayed iron. That took too much focus to do while calling lightning, though, so he needed to hit this. He brought up his arm to brace it against his tail and shot a charge into the jet of water.
Thunder clapped and the water stopped; the chorus screamed in agony with one voice fading to silence. Max took the chance to rip into his bag and take out another oran and found he only had two left. "Shit," he grumbled, but still scarfed one down.
The remaining two were stunned, at least. "Shared health bar?" Max mused to himself. They started pulling themselves back together before he could make a run for it, but that was probably for the best. Instead, he dashed for the espeon and leapt with his hips twisted back, ready for an iron tail. His target dodged to the side and right in range of another bolt. The bolt effortlessly hit, and that gave him just enough time to land and swing an iron tail across its face.
Orans had long healed his nose, but it still felt so good to give back. The espeon hit the wall and fell, but Max couldn't tell if she was out yet. He looked around to see what happened to the totodile, but it left no trace. That meant he might not've defeated it at all.
A flat, scaled paw smacked him in the back so hard he heard a crack. "Feeling the guilt, yet?" the psuedo-psuedomander mocked, chasing after Max while he crashed across the ground. Fight, he had a fight to focus on. Wherever the totodile went, he knew where two of them were, still. When rolling over himself slowed down enough to control, he kicked against the ground to hop back up.
The charmander leapt at him with a claw raised and ready to strike. Max jumped towards the attack and smacked his attacker away with an iron tail. His paw started for the last oran in his bag, but he held himself back. The attack jostled him, but he hadn't taken much damage. More importantly, he needed to make sure he was safe enough to eat it.
He looked to where he left the espeon and saw the shine of a psybeam right before it fired, so he rolled out of its path and towards the charmander. If they'd just attack him at the same time, he'd be screwed, but they seemed to be taking turns. The charmander didn't start getting up until the psybeam dissipated, and Max already had a thunderbolt ready for it by then.
While it spasmed from his attack, he watched the espeon react, but it didn't move from its spot. They had to be one person, then—somehow. If only he'd bothered to learn thunderwave—or any status move—he'd be able to give himself a chance to escape.
Escape. The mere thought of it made his instincts rip into his mind, and all at once, he could feel the entire floor at once. Before he could pull himself back, the charmander started to prepare a flamethrower blast, and he dodged it before he knew it. His instincts were out, and he couldn't shove them back down with this fight raging.
One room away. The next floor, he felt the distortion right behind him. Had it been there the entire time? The flame hadn't disappeared yet; he was right in front of a tunnel to squeeze into, so he did. He needed to keep from the walls, but luckily he managed to get out of the tunnel in a mere few seconds.
His hindpaws ran without him; before he could take a breath to steady himself, he had already run through the distortion. His stomach twisted into itself, and he heard his instincts perfectly clearly. "Pika chu," he swore, forcing himself to stop and take a breath. The luck of having such a short floor should give him just enough time to regain control.
Max held his left paw up and ran his other along the bracelet of beads on his wrist with his eyes closed. Beads. He pulled his focus from the limits of the Dungeon's floor to the feeling of beads between his pawpads. When he opened his eyes, he could see his bracelet, his paw, right in front of him.
"Control," he mumbled. "I'm in control." Four floors in, he knew how to handle his instincts when he wasn't busy fighting for his life. Still, he had no time to waste. An inkling in the back of his neck told him they were already approaching this floor—but the next distortion was significantly further away this time. Ignoring his senses at this point couldn't help. Maybe he could suppress his awareness, but right now, he had bigger fish to fry.
He ran for the tunnel across from him, which wasn't the most direct route, but it was shorter, and he needed to avoid the walls. As he scurried into it, he tried to use his awareness to gauge how far his pursuers were from him, but while he could tell for certain they were on the same floor at this point, he couldn't tell where, making that tunnel all the scarier.
The moment it opened up to a wider area, he leapt into the clearing and started scanning for the next turn. Every tunnel was smaller than the one he'd come out of, and it hadn't been remotely spacious. What could he even do if they came at him from the walls? They could surround him, and he wouldn't know until it was too late. Could he make it through before they tried?
No, that wasn't worth the risk. He wasn't even sure he could squeeze through those on his left and right, and the one across wasn't much wider. He took a deep breath and went to the middle of the clearing. Escape had to wait. Now that he had a better reign on his instincts, he stood a better chance, at least.
Deep breath in. He closed his eyes and raised his ears, listening to the room around him. Hold it. Keeping full focus on his hearing, he steadily opened his eyes. Start breathing out slowly. He kept an eye on the entrances as anchors, but watched the walls to see them start phasing through. The slightest upset of a pebble on top of another begged for his attention, but he reigned his focus in as best he could.
A searing heat flung from his left. Max threw himself out of its way and turned to see the charmander. "Impressive," it said. The other one couldn't be far. Max kept an eye out for the slightest hint of purple around him. "You've learned a lot since I found you in that field." Only the charmander was talking. It was a distraction.
Blunt force trauma in the form of a psychic lead pipe smacked Max into his ribs and launched him towards the charmander who dug its claws into his neck. The air Max was trying to exhale lost its exit while the chamander crushed his windpipe. Flaming claws raked across his front, leaving him choking out a scream. His paws clawed at the arm at his neck on their own.
Dark stars started taking over his vision, so Max launched all the charge he had into the charmander. Its muscles spasmed just enough for him to wriggle out of its grasp. He could barely see, but he knew he wasn't safe yet. If the charmander wasn't moving, that meant the espeon was. He spun around and saw it standing halfway out of the wall while another psychic-pipe swung for his head. In lieu of a dexterous dodge, he flopped down to the ground and out of its swing.
Max lightly brushed the fresh wound with a paw and brought it to his face to see surprisingly little blood while coughing his larynx back into shape. Thank God pokémon were so durable, or he would've died so many times already. He pushed up despite the dizziness, readied his tail and looked at the espeon. It wasn't moving, so he swung an iron tail to the incoming charmander and hit it square in the chest.
A sick satisfaction came from seeing it cough like he had, albeit significantly less severely. He at least tried to take in a steady breath, even if he had to cough it out. This fight was becoming desperate, and it didn't look great for them either. He didn't have any better option than his last remaining oran at this point, so he brought it out and scarfed it down while keeping a close watch on the doppelgangers.
The espeon remained silent and still while the charmander strained to push itself back up. It almost fully extended its arms all the way, but it crumpled to the side when it tried to pull its hindpaws up. In this state, he could probably outrun them, especially since they had to take turns moving.
Without having to worry about them getting him from the walls, he took the most direct tunnel and turned sideways to squeeze his way inside. It squeezed his belly, but besides that, he could manage. He took one last look back and saw the charmander barely managing to pull itself up to one knee when its eyes shot up to glare at him. The flame in its eye burned with enough hate to make Max freeze.
The espeon started fading, letting the charmander slowly get all the way up, all while keeping its glare trained on Max. Max shook himself out of it and rushed through the crevice. The oran had started to heal him, but it wouldn't heal him all the way, and even then the healing was going to take a while to finish.
The crevice was mercifully short. Max forced himself out of it and into the next clearing, which only had one other exit, but at least it was wider than all four in the last room combined. He tried to run, but the searing claw-marks in his chest slowed him down to a speed-walk. The next distortion called him—he heard it from just a few rooms away—so he kept pushing himself to keep going. Steady healing let him maintain his speed while the exertion tried to exhaust him.
Max hoped he was home free. He kept looking back to see the charmander but couldn't catch a single glance. He didn't have time to worry about it. If it outpaced him and cut him off at some point, he'd have to deal with that when it happened. By then, he'd have healed, so as long as it didn't get a strong hit on him, he'd have a huge advantage.
Once he'd finished that plan, he ran into the next floor before he could see the approaching distortion. Again, he had to force himself to stop and get a grip on himself while his stomach tried to scrunch itself dry, but he still needed to run. A steady walk needed to be enough. He traced his claws over the beads with one paw, clutching his scarf with the other. "Pi… pi…, ii…," he mumbled to himself. No luck yet. That didn't matter.
At least, he needed to believe it didn't, so he did. Or maybe he just decided to believe he believed it while trying not to bang his head into the nearest wall. He shook his head. Deep breaths. Deeper breaths. He felt for the beads with letters on them while scanning the rooms around him. The dirt had grown even sparser on this floor, only enough to fill the corners and crevices, leaving the rest of the floor covered in naked, eerily warm stone. The peak was only four floors away? Five? He forgot how many floors this Dungeon had.
The more he looked around without seeing hide or scale of his last pursuer, the more his pace relaxed. Maybe he'd finally outrun it, or it gave up. It could be setting up a trap, but the slow building relief was too good to question. Even if some part of him knew he wasn't safe yet, he at least managed enough peace of mind to get control of his breath back. "I'm in control," he mumbled, then sighed in relief.
Pawsteps echoed behind him. "Fine," a familiar voice called. Painfully familiar. He knew he'd heard it before and felt it tugging his stomach into knots. "I'm done playing games." But wherever he recognized it from, it sent a shiver down his back while digging claws into his heart. "I honestly didn't expect you to care enough about someone else to sweat the details of your friends."
A cacophony of memories rang in his head. He knew that voice. He tried to hang onto the present moment, but felt past memories taking over.
"I just can't," Max mumbled. "You don't know what they really think."
"No," he groaned with his paws clutching his head. It had to be a coincidence, another disguise—but no matter what, he needed to stay alert and ready.
"And you do?" Ithos shot back. Max looked up at him in quiet desperation, making the charmander's countenance soften. "What? Did they say something to you?"
Max tried to answer, but any attempts died in his throat. He knew exactly what they thought of him, but he couldn't explain how under any circumstances. "Sort of," he mumbled. Worthless. He buried his face in his arm. Why'd he even try to talk about this? He bit back the sobs in the back of his throat, digging his teeth into his cheeks until he tasted the tang of iron.
After giving him a moment to himself, Ithos gingerly sat down next to him. "Look, I know it's hard," he said. Max flinched when he felt an arm on his back. "Sometimes, first impressions go south." Max narrowed his eyes and turned barely enough to glare at his partner with one eye. Ithos rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Or second, or third, or fourth, or f—AGH!" Even while Max's shock shot through him, Ithos had the same stupid grin.
"Yeah, I deserved that," he chuckled. A sob choked out of Max's throat, and all the humor left the charmander. Ithos shrank into his shoulders with an awkward expression. "Hey, I'm sorry." When he tried to reach out a paw to touch him, Max smacked it away hard enough to make him mouth a swear while shaking it off.
Sobs choked down Max's throat while he tried to swallow them all. He sucked a long, hard sniffle in to clear his nose and finally pulled his face off his arm. Only a few trails of lightly matted fur remained as evidence of his tears, though his jaw still trembled. "You should do this yourself," he mumbled. "I'm not cut out for this."
"No," Ithos said, grabbing Max's muzzle with a paw and forcing their eyes to meet. "Give yourself time to get used to the team." Max rolled his eyes which got him a light flick on the nose. "The team needs you, okay?" Ithos looked at him with desperate eyes. "I need you." It started getting harder to pull away, even when Ithos lightened his grip. "We're a team. There's not a team without us."
Max couldn't stop staring into his eyes. The room dripped and faded away, but the charmander remained. Still clutching Max's muzzle. The cave reasserted itself. Ithos remained. "Did you miss me?" he scolded. Still frozen at the sight, Max didn't even flinch as a flaming comet of a fist rocketed to the space between his eyes.
The hit launched him back, rolling several times, and the world spun long after he skidded to a stop, but it at least knocked enough sense back that he could scramble up from the ground. His partner stood right in front of him.
"H-how," he sputtered. "Y-you—I—what?" He started stumbling back. It couldn't be possible, but every painful memory took precedent over any attempt at thought.
"What?" Ithos snarled. "Did you really think you'd get off so easy?"
Hold on, Max had to hold onto control. "F-fake," he said. "Illusion, you're just another illusion." His heart threatened to slam out of his ribcage. Even the searing pain from the hit couldn't take his attention off the charmander. It looked exactly, sounded exactly like he remembered Ithos.
"Wouldn't that be easier for you?" Ithos said. In the same breath, he blew out a billowing blast of fire Max had to leap from to avoid—and even then, he felt it singe his tail. "The second you're sick of me, I'm out of your life, right?" The billowing flames died, and Ithos dashed out of their remains to curl a paw around Max's scarf. "Glad you kept the souvenir, though." Max tried to push him away only for Ithos to throw him towards the other wall. "Wow, did you manage to get even heavier?"
Max hit the ground and skid for a few feet before pushing himself back up. "Wasn't sick," he gasped. "I wasn't sick of you." Ithos glared at him from the other side of the room. The look shattered his heart to pieces, but the charmander had stopped attacking him. "I was scared." He needed some little trick, some discrepancy to trip up a doppelganger, but his memories weren't solid enough.
If he was honest, he wanted it to be real. "Please, when aren't you scared?" Ithos sneered. If Max could just let himself believe it. Despite himself, he couldn't try to think it through. He couldn't doubt. He couldn't. It felt so much easier to let himself believe, and yet it felt like the same facade he'd faced earlier.
"I—its-" that letter. Everything he'd wanted to say. If this was really his partner, he had another chance. There probably wasn't a worse time to try speaking his mind, but he needed this. "I wanted to be—us to be close. I wanted to, but I just." He took a breath to let himself believe, but his tongue tied itself in knots the more he tried to speak his heart. "I couldn't convince myself you didn't hate me, so I tried to make you admit that you did." Every word he spoke felt like rot sent to a lie; It was Ithos.
Yet, the more he tried to convince himself it was Ithos, he felt a gnawing in the back of his mind. That gnawing only grew stronger when he saw utter indifference on the charmander. "Oh yeah?" the charmander asked. "I hate you. There. Was it worth it?"
