"Huh, you do heal fast."

Riven blinked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then focused on the man sitting in a chair in front of him, idly reading a volume of Trainer Monthly. An Elygem sat on the chair beside him, hissing lowly. When they traded glances, its eyes narrowed while it gave a shrill shriek that sounded like a sneeze and a hiss.

It also made Riven's head pound. He made an obscene gesture at it and it screeched back, making it worse.

"Can you not? My fucking head," Riven said, wincing. "Why is that thing out of its pokeball? And in a hospital room? The walls echo!" He peered up at the man, still dressed in operative uniform. Suddenly his location registered and his incredulity went and killed itself. "I'm in a hospital again," he realized with deflating irritation, sinking slowly back into the bed. I should reserve a bed specifically for me in every hospital of every town I visit from here on in. This is getting ridiculous.

The operative mumbled something about a section in the volume about new combination moves and folded the page to mark his spot. "Do you have something against hospitals? They kind of save people when they're almost dead. Like you were. And I can't really return him," he said, gesturing to the alien psychic. "He's assigned to me and he stays out for as long as I'm on the job. So what's your deal with hospitals? Besides the needles, nobody likes needles."

"Nobody likes dying either." Riven huffed and hissed back at the Elgyem. "As for why… I can practically consider hospitals home."

The operative's face twisted slightly, thinking about that and wincing. "How many times?"

"What would be an acceptable amount of times so that you stop counting?"

"Uh… ten?"

"Ten? Heh, I wish."

The blonde nodded once and stopped, blinking several times. "Damn. I remember I got shot once. Don't quite feel like repeating that just yet."

Riven shrugged as the two shared idle stories of getting beat to shit numerous times. "Pershing, was it? Oh, that's right, only UFO that wasn't a cuntbag at the time. That other guy was a dick. I also can't remember anyone else with an Elgyem that irritating."

It screeched again.

The operative set the magazine down with a flick of the page and nodded. "Sorry about him, he doesn't take to strangers very well. Name's Allen. I'm not really sure if it's a good idea to tell you that but since I'm going to be glued to you for a bit I suppose it's easier than saying my last name all the time. I know your merc name is Prime, but if you don't want to tell me yours that's fine. 'Anonymity' and all—I get it." He shrugged, and focused his sight on Riven's eyes. "Heterochromia though, did you hide it so you could blend in? It's pretty noticeable. Sorry if that sounds weird, but I've never seen a heterochromic before—don't take it the wrong way."

Riven looked at Allen oddly and rubbed his eye, wondering why it wasn't itching.

"The nurse removed your contact so it didn't slide into the back of your eye, in case you're wondering."

"Ah," Riven said. "It's a bit irritating, but yes, it's easier when people don't turn heads because your eyes don't match. So you're Allen then… Alright. Why the hell are you here?" Riven asked, scowling. He did a quick scan of the room. Allen pretended not to notice. "I don't need your protection."

"It's less about protection and more about me watching you in case you go insane and try to kill someone. Watching you isn't fun either, I'd rather be out doing something else, but for now you're the immediate priority… or so the higher ups say. All my days of leave are out too, unfortunately, so I can't blow this off. Still not sure why they didn't get someone else to do it, I'm a gentle guy, wouldn't harm a Yanma." He did a pathetic little wave of the hands, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Riven almost rolled his. While it was obvious that the UFOs didn't quite trust him, especially after a display like the one he'd shown, it was still ridiculous that they'd only put one guy on him. And with just a psychic too. Maybe it was because Allen was more likable than the other operatives he'd come across? The rest just treated him like they would any run of the mill lowlife mercenary. Understandable but still fairly rude.

At least the guy was agreeable, he'd probably stab someone if they put an operative with a stick up his ass to watch him. Allen was good, for now. Still, being curious and in a hospital bed, he figured he could do with some prodding.

"Do you think you can take me?" He challenged. "Especially with what you saw?"

"Considering you were and still kind of are suffering from blood-loss based anemia and looked like a sneeze could knock you over, yeah." Allen held up Riven's pokebelt and smiled warmly as the latter frowned very deeply. "I also have your pokemon while I have all of mine. Oh, and I have a gun. If it bleeds, I can probably shoot it and if by some odd chance you did disembowel me with a stray scalpel, getting shot would kill an already anemic person pretty quickly. I'd say I'm in the clear."

"Damn." Riven clicked his tongue. "You thought this out fairly well didn't you?"

"Yeah," Allen said, pretty proudly too.

"And you practiced."

"Not particularly." At Riven's look, Allen's shifted. "A bit. Maybe."

A knowing smile came from Riven and he looked up at the ceiling, surprised to see that there weren't any pokemon themed pictures on the tiles. There usually was. He was further surprised to see a juicebox get placed on the bed, an act which the blonde operative just pointed to, urging him to drink it.

"Juice?"

"Juice has sugar." Allen held up a finger. "You haven't eaten anything since and sugar should help with the anemia and general blood deficiency. Low blood sugar is awful. The doctors didn't even know where to damn start with your blood type, no one even knows what the hell would be compatible with you. Good thing your body is something else entirely, otherwise you'd be in a tight spot. Just be glad they're not feeding you that tasteless jello and pasta. Horrible stuff."

"Looks like I don't have to slash my wrists after all then," Riven agreed and took the juicebox, draining it in a few moments, apparently unashamed to ask for another. Allen chuckled to himself and whispered to the Elgyem something about a vending machine. It disappeared and reappeared a minute later, holding several juiceboxes in its arms along with other assorted candy bars. Riven dug into them quickly, slightly appeasing the hunger he'd been feeling.

While he was destroying a chocolate bar, Allen couldn't help but snort."They always assign me to the problematic ones, don't they?" He remarked wryly, partly to himself. "You wouldn't happen have a metal bat and a catering for acting on whims, do you? Because if you do-"

"No," Riven replied flatly, opening another candy bar. "I prefer sharp objects to blunt ones. Why, did they assign you to a someone stubborn, irrational, and prone to reckless behavior? A girl perhaps?"

Allen eyed him dubiously. "Sure you're not psychic? How did you know it was a girl?"

"Because it wouldn't make sense otherwise, and my wrists are still intact, so no, no psychic here. And you're babysitting me, so I would know those qualities quite well," Riven deadpanned. "Also, you look like the type of guy that'd get assigned babysitting troublemakers. It's your personality."

Allen's frown deepened and he looked towards the Elgyem in horror, as if wondering if it was true. The damn alien nodded furiously.

"Heh. What's her name then?" Riven sighed when the operative hesitated. "I'm sitting here in this bed, feeling like ass, and so weak that you can confidently take me, so entertain me at least. I really don't want to read Trainer Monthly."

"Ree… Her name's Ree and she's uh… spirited. I guess," Allen said, scratching the side of his cheek. "Telling you what she's doing would be a bit of a breach of trust though."

"But I don't give enough of a damn to give enough of a damn," Riven reasoned, finding the logic sound. He chucked the juicebox into the trash bin in the corner of the room and smirked when it went in. "This is all for the entertainment factor. Completely fine. I'll probably forget about it in a day. No worries."

Allen seemed to consider it a bit, but a raised eyebrow from Riven and the absent death of another juicebox talked him into it. He started wondering if maybe he was a little too easy to get talked into things.

"Uh, she had… 'unsafe' relations with a member of the opposite sex and well, decided that training was apparently a really nice fad to get into when women get… you know. Turns out it's not as easy as she thought and things happened. Then I had someone teach her how to shoot a gun. She's also impulsive and nearly beat a man to death with a bat and literally stabbed a guy in a hospital—who she actually put there for… killing one of her pokemon. And then tried to assault a guy in the middle of the Plasma protests in Castelia for doing something to her sister—who is currently undergoing operative training now." Allen took a very deep breath. "She's, uhm- a handful. I'm still not sure I should be telling you this but I need someone to listen to me bitch about things. Today stressed me out."

Riven was silent for a moment.

"You poor bastard."

"Tell me about it." Allen sighed. "She's not a bad girl, just not prone to thinking things over too well. I hope you don't give me hell either. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't."

"Depends on what your superiors tell me once they find out I'm awake and not dead to the world. I bet they haven't overlooked the fact that I killed some people either. Can't wait for the moral arguments about that. I assume they have questions?"

"Hell yes they have questions. I have questions! Like how you can do that… thing with the darkness and the claws and the- how do you do that?"

"I'm a wizard."

"I don-" Allen scowled. "You're an asshole."

"I think that much is known already, Gale gives me enough shit for it alr-"

Riven's train of thought evaporated as the color left his face and he almost leapt out of the hospital bed. Allen shoved him back down, gripping his arm before the IV tore his vein apart.

"Calm down! You're going to destroy your arm!" Allen reasoned, holding down what could best be described as a weakened superhuman. While weak, he was still much stronger than he looked.

"She got stabbed, I need to see her. Now."

He tried to get back up but Allen held out a palm, urging him to settle back down. The operative blinked in confusion, contrasting the image of the confident, smirking mercenary with the one he was seeing now—worried and afraid. They were like two different people. "Uh… she's..."

Riven settled back into the bed, voice going very soft. "She's not…?"

"No, not dead if that's what you're wondering. God damn, your Gallade managed to heal her enough to let her hold on until the paramedics got to her but… she underwent massive hemorrhaging. The bastard forked and curved the blade. She was bleeding everywhere and they had to give her transfusions just to keep her alive. She might still be in surgery. I don't know yet. Just calm down and get up slowly, an IV needle can completely destroy your arm if you don't remove it first, and I don't want to get blamed if you do something reckless."

Allen backed away when he saw Prime go very quiet, staring straight ahead at the door. In his eyes, a deep, seething hatred welled up, and his nostrils flared. The deep blue color of his right eye held a coldness within, and his jaw was set hard enough that his teeth grinded against each other.

"I need to see her," Riven insisted, removing the IV from his arm. He aimed to stand up, and Allen debated whether to stop him a third time. "Don't, Allen. I'm not like that girl you were assigned to or anyone you've dealt with. If she dies, I will go after that bastard. And when I do, I'll tear down the skies, the seas, and the earth to make sure he dies. Even if I have to make you move to do it."

"I don't disagree with you on that," Allen managed, holding out his hands to calm a furious mercenary. "You're not a regular trainer and I can see that, but you can't run through a hospital and demand to see her while she's still in surgery, wait a few hours until she's out. And also… Yates is expecting you. They won't let you through until you come out with everything about what the hell happened back there. A man turned into a damned crystal and you became some sort of black demon. They're sure as hell not letting you walk out of here without more information."

Riven stared at Allen for a brief moment, who was pleading with his face. He shook his head and exhaled, trying to calm the nerves and anger and hatred, all the while fighting the worry of whether Gale was going to live or not. His anger faded momentarily and all he could do was stare down at the floor, crestfallen. Powerless, again.

"Prime?"

"Can you get me some clothes to change into, at least?" Riven ground out, throat dry. Allen nodded at the Elgyem, and it disappeared in a flash. Riven sat back down on the bed, running hands through his hair, all the while cursing silently under his breath. Not her too. Please not her too.

The Elgyem returned with arms full of clothes—a white shirt and sweatpants, each with a pokeball logo on them. Allen handed him the clothes as Riven stood up, using the bed to right himself.

"Do you need help?"

"I can change myself," Riven insisted stubbornly, dismissing Allen. He slid out of the hospital gown, and when Allen saw him, his eyes widened in shock at the sheer amount of scars just on the back alone. Multiple lacerations of varying sizes were carved into skin, healed but still scarred over, marking the locations were he'd taken a knife or worse. A large cross shaped cut ran from shoulder to just above the hip, and judging by the appearance of the wound, it was far fresher than the others. Possibly a pair of large curved blades, and the smaller scars revealed what looked to be bites and stray slashes from claws. When Prime turned back around, revealing the front, Allen had to wince and look away.

He'd never seen someone with a cut from pectoral to hip like that. And the shape of it… Scyther. For sure. He'd seen pictures of the wounds from friends in the forces in Johto and Kanto. Messy and horrific were just the start.

Good lord…

Riven peered down at his exposed upper body and his mouth fell into a thin line, as if remembering each individual scar. "I'm used to physical pain. It just hurts for a while and leaves you scar at worst. I have quite a lot, as you can see, but-" A shirt went over his head. "It's the other kind of pain I don't know how to deal with yet. The one in here."

"I don't think anyone can ever deal with that kind of pain, no matter how many times they've been through that. If it means anything, I'm sorry. About your friend, Gale. Why did you bring her into this?"

"She wouldn't let me not," Riven replied, changing into the sweatpants. When he was done, he sat on the bed, slumping down like a wilting flower. "I think we both know what stubborn girls are like. I can't ever seem to say no, she's just-" He seemed to smile sadly at a memory, but it fell quickly, revealing painful memories best left alone. "If I lost her… I- I don't know. I've had enough." He sighed quietly. "I used to think she was just a nuisance, like a weed. And then, slowly… she became a very good friend. She's done a lot for me, a lot more than I realized. I must not look very mercenary right now, huh? Surprise, surprise."

"No, not at all. I figured there was more to it than that, mercs don't usually go out of their way to help official forces—it was really odd. But forgive me for sounding surprised but you were worse? I saw your remove a sword out of someone's spine."

"At least he kept his balls," Riven more or less nodded. Allen's face scrunched together in horror. "In all seriousness though, I probably would be in worse circumstances otherwise. I was a mess. Climbed out of a shithole and didn't know what to do when everything suddenly wasn't shit. Thought everyone was my enemy and would honestly murder anyone that tried to remotely hurt me. I was a teenager, though. She was a large part of why I got better. Taught me that trusting people wasn't so bad after all."

"Well... Sometimes, even weeds grow flowers," Allen added, smiling to himself. "Were you a trainer before?"

"Briefly," Riven admitted. "Before things happened and then I found something to do. That led to what you see now, and while I liked training, it didn't speak to me too much. I'm just too used to… conflict I guess." He swallowed and inhaled shakily, steadying himself. "Enough about that though, I don't want to tell you too much. What about the wounded in Black City, and the other two trainers with them? Castelia? I at least want to make sure they're alright."

"The operatives and the two other trainers are fine. There was a lot of injuries from the fighting, and I don't know the full extent of the injuries your friends sustained, but they were large enough to warrant hospital attention, so just hope it's just fractured ribs or something. As for Castelia…" Allen trailed off, giving Riven an uneasy look.

"What?"

"Well, we were hoping that you'd tell us. Because we have no clue how any of what happened is possible."

"Why, what happened? They came back?"

"I'd say tried, but what happened was just downright confusing and made me scratch my head more than once. See Yates, he'll tell you."

"But I'm asking you, Allen."

"I… Look, this isn't some favor, or sharing stories. I bet mercenaries have a lot of them, but this is serious, and Yates wants to know. He's my superior, Prime. If I ask questions, you won't answer them. Maybe you don't want to answer them. So I prefer if you told Yates and save yourself one more explanation. It's a drag, right? And it's a little dull hearing the same revelation twice, I want to prep myself for the big shebang."

He opened the door, holding it for an astonished Riven—who gawked in silence, tilting his head with a puzzled expression. A hand rose in disbelief, and a mouth hung agape. "Allen?"

"Yeah?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are way too much of a likable bastard? I bet they knew, didn't they? Sent you here to warm me up and spill, and now you know that I know that you know. And I'm going to do it anyway." He stuck an accusatory finger at Allen, and put it down when he couldn't muster up the douchemanship to call him out for it. "Normally, I'd dislike you for abusing your friendliness like this, but it's surprisingly difficult. Maybe you're the wizard."

The operative was completely stone-faced. That is until a giant smile spread on his lips and a tiny chuckle escaped him—the closest to shit eating Riven had ever seen from an official. Then Allen cuffed him.

Damn his charisma.

Normally waiting rooms in hospitals only had a few people in there outside of epidemics or incidents, waiting for relatives or spouting nonsense about feeling ill but really only just there to get access to morphine. He'd been in a hospital so much that he started to recognize run of the mill junkies.

This time, however, a room full of men and women in black clothing and badges awaited him. All of them had coffee. Probably relocated the injured from the day's events to the larger hospital in Nimbasa, which treated people exclusively. Riven presumed this one was the smaller one that also sported a pokemon center on the lower floors. Upon seeing Allen enter with Riven trailing behind him, they stood up at once. A table had been rearranged as a makeshift interrogation table, and the civilians had been asked to go elsewhere.

Abusing military power? Maybe. At least they were being heavily reluctant about thinking of using their weapons, and since they had no pokemon out, they must have been wary of a fight indoors. It could have been because he was also dressed in regular clothing and was as limp as a wheat stalk, being viewed as non-threatening. Will was off in the corner, sitting beside his sister, trying not to make eye contact.

Riven took his seat slowly, massaging his forehead with a palm. He exhaled and gave Yates a very tired, "Wanted to see me?"

No-nonsense as always, Yates' expression was stern and controlled. "You look younger than I thought."

"Really? Because I usually get called an old man." Riven stroked his hair. Half of it was white. Allen allowed him to put his contact back on, respecting Riven's decision to remain unknown. Well, the UFOs had probably already matched his face with the trainer records of a certain Nathan of Kalos, since he had synced his pokedex with the region's databases in the center in Castelia. He'd be damn surprised if they didn't know who he was. "What did you want?"

"That information you gave us was falsified. There was no planned Plasma protest," Yates declared, hiding steel between his words. "Because of that, seventeen operatives and twenty nine of their pokemon are injured, with eight others dead and ten of their pokemon also dead. Not counting the gym leader's lead pokemon. We were ambushed repeatedly—this has never happened before, and all of it was because of a lack of information, or in this case, wrong information."

What? Falsified? How…? Riven's eyes narrowed. "Falsified? Elaborate."

Yates was handed a file from one of the operatives, and when he opened it, he flipped a picture over to Riven. The image was of a middle-aged man wearing the signature Plasma uniform, shouting into a microphone. "Bensen Lavern, leader of the current Plasma organization, fighting for the banning of training and pokemon abuse through nonviolent means."

Hah, nonviolent. Right. Hold on, what did he just say?

"You know the leader of the Plasmas?"

"We keep tabs on potential threats, yes."

"Then how the hell did you not stop him, get information out and find out why the Plasmas are working with Sayre followers? And then make him cough up the plans? We had two weeks to prepare!"

"That's the problem, Prime. When you came to us with the information of a Plasma protest scheduled during Elesa's tour, it certainly made logical sense. They have protested at large events before, and Lavern went missing when we tried verifying the information—thus, we assumed that he was in on it. Until a few hours ago. The agency was spammed with calls from Plasma supporters, denouncing any and all affiliation with the incident. Fervently. There was no scheduled protest and many of those under him also said that he was in a financial situation… of sorts. Desperate people will do desperate things if pushed that far."

Yates intertwined his fingers and set his hands down on the table. "So, either you purposely led us into a trap, or your violent methods of interrogation did. Both of which cost me good men and women. Was that the plan? A mercenary helping us for no charge apart from protecting these so called 'interests', it's so… strange."

A snapping snarl came from the mercenary.

"Oh, so now I'm a double agent that fed you false information which killed your men and somehow I got something out of this? The same people who put my friend, and yes, I won't lie, she's my friend—in the fucking hospital, who is still in surgery by the way!—almost killed me, and almost killed Elesa? Sure, that's fucking plausible, Yates, I'd believe it if I was drunk, high, and a lunatic."

"Excuse me, sir, but I think the information could have been spread deliberately," Allen interjected, all but restraining Riven with a hand on his shoulder. The guy looked like he wanted to stick something sharp into Yates' eye and twist somewhat roughly. Starting something in a hospital waiting room would be ill-advised, and everyone had bags they could practically carry under their eyes. Hell, he wanted to go straight home and sleep for half a day, thank you very much.

"I mean, it certainly makes sense why they would do something like that. The Plasmas don't exactly announce their protest dates randomly, and from the way Prime-" He glanced at the man in question, who was snarling at Yates while also paying attention with half an ear. "-uh, operates, he would have picked up the falsified rumors. Word gets around quick in the underworld, I assume. Maybe they were counting on that and were hoping an undercover operative picked it up and reported it in. Prime did instead. So, if anything, it's not about whether he gave false information, but more that the enemy is more intelligent than we think they are, right?"

Allen, I could kiss you, Riven thought in his mind.

Yates seemed to consider it, nodding his head. "We'll have to see if Lavern turns up, but your analysis could be correct, Pershing. But that delves into another matter, one that is of more pressing importance at the moment; what your original aim is and what it has to do with the power you displayed out there."

Riven remained static, and refused to budge when Allen gave him a subtle tap on the shoulder.

The lead operative waited for a long minute, noting that the mercenary had no interest in sharing, or was heavily reluctant. "You, that man with the fairy abilities, the leftover crystal the size of a man, and an human esper powerful enough to rival an Alakazam. What's the correlation? You knew and refused to tell us. That was information that could have saved lives, and yet you selfishly held onto it. All those good operatives and civilians, dead because of your greed. And that girl, your own friend, desperately clinging onto life because you didn't have the decency to share vital information."

Snarling resumed, and Riven's fists clenched together. "And even if I did, what good would that do? I had no idea they had those people with them! And while we were there, I was bleeding all over a rooftop, hanging onto Lucia, hoping you'd send dark types after that psychic piece of shit, and you didn't. So I had to do something. The reason she's dying isn't me, it's you."

"Why would we send our pokemon against an enemy of unknown capabilities, at the end of a four way street? There was debris littered around the street, and a psychic with the power to crush a car can easily use them as weapons. We also care about our pokemon. We also didn't know if there'd be another ambush or if he had help, which he did. An electric type atop a building and at least another Galvantula hiding amidst one of the floors. Tell me mercenary, how does that work out for the ones that don't have the height advantage?"

Badly. An electric type with the height advantage was near untouchable, a lesson Riven had learned from the brief skirmishes with Lirans in the past. Lightning bolts were fast, deadly, and precise, and shooting from below hardly ever worked. Having to fight against electric types on sloped terrains with the height disadvantage was akin to suicide, or at the very least, an extremely difficult fight.

"Why didn't you keep shooting then? He couldn't possibly block all the bullets alone."

"Have you ever seen what a powerful psychic can do?" Another operative, Lacroix, said. "They can deflect bullets back at you. I lost three friends like that in the Sinnoh crisis following the Champion's tragedy. They were sent over to Sinnoh to help stop the madness when the rangers couldn't manage alone. A trainer ordered his psychic to kill a boy for not being 'strong', and when they shot, the psychic simply had to flick a finger. Then they were all dead, precise shots to the center of the head, more precise than any human could manage. Alakazams and powerful psychics have their own way of being dealt with—they're as dangerous as dragons on the list. He could have killed us all, and your friend and her pokemon were in the way, too risky."

"His psychic affected even you," Yates noted. "From what I observed, you… hybrids have abilities as well. Perhaps the esper's wasn't an ability, but he had Miracle Eye, no doubt about that. Sending our pokemon to fight him could have meant death. And yours… it's Dark Aura, isn't it?"

He didn't even need Riven to look at him to know he was on the right track.

"I've read reports of sightings of the Kalosian legendary bird, Yvetal. Eyewitness accounts claim that his presence was like being in the midst of a pit of 'dread, anxiety, hatred, despair, hopelessness, and evil.' Not unlike what we all felt from you. The day Yvetal was spotted, psychics went haywire wherever it flew, and their powers caused untold property damage and injuries to trainers and nontrainers. A jammer for psychics. The only reason you stood a chance against this… Loberia, was for that reason. What are you? What is really at play here?"

After more silence, Yates exhaled in exasperation. Straightening his shoulders, he looked straight into Riven's eyes, and neither flinched. "I hoped we could come to an accord, but it seems you've no interest in it. I heard once from a mercenary that his favorite saying was, 'I did what I had to do', because it let him sleep at night after doing something horrific. He lied to himself. Have you used that excuse before, Prime?"

"What are you getting-"

"Gale Serna. A foreigner from the Hoenn region in league with a foreign mercenary that has already racked up a kill count of eleven people and numerous pokemon in a single day. She's currently in surgery, but if need be, I can make it so that they refuse her medical attention outright. Without it, she may not survive the night. Unless, of course, you come forward with the information."

The other operatives in the room gasped, and some were stunned. There were whispers from the others in the back, clearly not fine with that decision. It could have been just a ruse to get Prime to comply, but the situation was tense, and was about to escalate.

Will fully expected Riven to snap and destroy the handcuffs but instead he gave a tired groan, complaining about how handcuffs hurt the wrists and chafed terribly. Whether it was confusion through audacity, he didn't know. Riven slumped into the chair further, like he could give less of a shit.

"Yates…I'm bloody tired, my head hurts, and I've only eaten chocolates and juice. I need solid food, maybe a good burger. Now, you're threatening not to save my friend's life, the friend of a mercenary who doesn't exactly share her morals, that's a bad idea. See, if you let her die, I'll stop holding the crazy fuck in my head, and trust me he's much better at using these abilities than I am. Then he'll paint the walls of this waiting room red and as I've said before, think about the janitors, they really don't want to clean this up. Oh, and he'll casually remove your spine as well—the dude's fucking crazy, and the worst part of it is that he's a part of me. Don't get me wrong, right now I feel like puncturing your neck full of holes but I'm frankly that damn tired. So I'll ask for you not to make threats that can backfire tremendously. Take what's mine and I'll destroy what's yours. And you have a lot of stuff to lose. By the way, do they have something crunchy? Like chips? I want something crunchy."

Allen's palm met his forehead hard enough to leave a mark.

Riven awkwardly rubbed his eyeballs the best he could and simply watched wryly in mild amusement as Yates and the other operatives looked positively bamboozled by the casual mention of annihilation followed by… something insignificant. The situation was serious, obviously, but he'd learned from his time in Kalos that sometimes audacity combined with a threat of mutually assured but casually reluctant destruction worked just as well as a threat of mutually and very seriously with extra emphasis assured destruction. All in the delivery really. They'd seen what he could do, he was pretty sure they wouldn't want to test whether he'd carry out what he said he'd do.

Which, while sounding cool, wasn't very plausible, given Allen's explanation. He seemed to catch on too, but didn't say anything, thankfully.

And plus, this way was hilarious, situation be damned. It would be hours before Gale's surgery would be done, and even with the worries twisting his stomach in knots and his seething hatred for that white-haired esper fuck, screwing with the straight-laced Yates helped ease his frayed nerves a bit. Riven noticed Will in the back fighting to contain a shit-eating smirk and Lucia shook her head in disapproval, no doubt trying not to burst out into one herself.

Yates righted himself, blinking several times. "Are you intentionally screwing with me?"

"I wouldn't intentionally do anything with you. Although, it seems you like wasting peoples' time with empty threats that really don't make any logical sense. If you let her die, not only would you not get any information out of me, but you'd make an enemy of someone who, for your current knowledge, can turn into a fucking demon. All the while I lose arguably one of my best friends in the process, and when I do, you'll lose everything too and the guys out there win. In what way, shape, form, and situation does that work out for anyone besides both our enemies? You claim yourself to be a protector, but you act like a villain. Too bad you're terrible at it, I've dealt with people far worse than you. Your threats don't scare me either, no matter how many guns you have pointed at me. After all, I've nothing to lose. My death wouldn't matter here. But theirs would. You won't take my shit, I won't take yours. I still want something crunchy."

Don't threaten my friends, I'll bullshit you up, down, and sideways if I have to.

"Mercenaries," Yates muttered under his breath. "Fine. I don't want to let her die, but I will if needed. You're right. Neither of us want either outcome to happen, because for now, we're allies." The head operative sounded like he was reading a speech made by someone he detested. Lack of sleep was making itself known. "Let's make a deal then. What do you want in return for the information? Besides bloody chips. Someone get him some."

Riven smiled and peered up at Allen, who was still recovering from the sheer incredulousness of the situation. He sighed, and asked Riven what flavor he liked, then left the room like a beaten Lillipup. A strangled argh came from outside as he went down the hallway.

"Firstly, I want you to assure that Gale will receive all the medical attention she needs. She will not be a bargaining chip, used by anyone, got it? Secondly, what I'm going to tell you cannot leave this room, which means you nurse, need to leave."

The nurse eavesdropping in the back gave a tiny little squeak and with a stern look of disapproval from Yates, rushed out of the door.

"If there are ops in here that you don't trust with a secret, bring a psychic in that knows amnesia and wipe their recollection of memories for the past few hours. Allen's annoying Elgyem can probably do it."

Yates agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Now that that's out of the way—basic question, what are you? No snarky remarks. We made a deal. Are you a product of some kind of experimentation? The Rockets delved into genetic experimentation before, I wouldn't be surprised if someone picked up their research."

"Rocket research? No. If someone stuck needles into me I'd notice. Although the Rockets may have tried human experimentation, I can tell you with complete certainty that I wasn't made in a lab." Riven paused as he rubbed his chin. "I'm not a hybrid of a pokemon or a person. To put it into perspective, I look like a human, I talk like a human, I act like a human, but in biology, I'm a pokemon. I have all the strengths of a pokemon, and their weaknesses. That's why that dazzling gleam had me coughing up blood like I'd been shot, and why your psychic locks are absolute garbage against me. I didn't become like this, I was born like this."

It took a moment for it to register for the operatives, but instead of the usual utter shock other people had, most almost puked their dinners out. Alright, that was not the kind of surprise he imagined. What did they think he me-

Good god.

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's not what you're thinking," Riven denied, pretty disgusted with the prospect himself. "Shit… no." Lacroix was as green and as sour as Wepear berry, no doubt having seen or encountered some kind of pokephilia in the past while on a job. Allen wasn't the only tormented soul in the force. Alas, another poor bastard.

Even Yates gave Riven a dubious look, and Will let out a muffled snort, clearly amused. Lucia knocked him on the head. This was serious… or so she thought. The misunderstandings were really diminishing the sense of urgency.

"I- let me word this so you- Fuck." Riven tried organizing the thoughts in his head so that whatever came out of his mouth didn't sound like the beginning of an innuendo or worse. "My parents weren't pokemon. They were human, but they were also like me. But I'm not like you, because I'm not from around here."

"You mean there's a region where humans have developed pokemon like traits?" A younger operative asked, blinking owlishly at the prospect. He joked, "where do I sign up?"

"Unless you have impossible technology, no, there isn't," Riven replied pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "This is going to be a bit hard to believe. But I'm not from around here anywhere. From any place on this current earth."

"Oh, so you're an ali-"

"Monroe… there are no aliens disguised as humans, for the last time," Yates clarified dully. "Slugma are also not extraterrestrial either, for that matter, please stop."

"Take off that tin foil hat, Monroe."

"Fuckin' Monroe…"

Yates held up a hand and told them to quiet it down. "So you're not from around here, where are you from? Unless you are an alien." He looked at Riven oddly. "That would be confusing, but given the circumstances and the amount of things that have happened in recent years... Grumpigs flying might be next."

Riven smiled.

"I'm from the past, half a million years ago."

There was a long drawn out silence… And the operatives took a synchronized swig of their coffee, probably hoping it was alcohol. A few of them were even disappointed.

"How rare are espers in the world? Statistically?" Riven asked.

"Less than a half a percent. Truly powerful ones like Sabrina, Lucian, or Olympia of Kalos are even rarer than that."

Obviously, he knew that already but points needed to be made.

"And human espers powerful enough to crush cars and have the necessary mental power to use psycho cut, at the very least?"

"None that we know of."

"Now think on that and just humor me, for a little bit, even if it sounds outrageous, and it does—I know. But we can do things others can't," Riven stated simply. "You saw what I can do. Back where I'm from, there were clans—ruling bodies similar to Kanto's back in the Feudal Era, that generally more or less only consisted of people that were their own typing. I didn't know it at the time, but mine was made up of people who were considered dark types. There was one in particular, the Curians, from their capital city named Curianos, that could be thought of as seers. Psychics, obviously. You wanted to know your odds of success in a battle? You went to them. They produced few warriors but the ones they did have had exceptionally powerful psychic abilities. Not unlike our white-haired shit eater esper. I never saw one, but I assume they were like Alakazam or a Metagross. Not to be messed with lightly. Loberia… that guy wasn't born here. I don't know how powerful offspring between someone like me and regular people turn out, but he knew what I was, and for all intents and purposes, all traces of my time are gone. He's a Curian, no doubt about that."

"Assuming… this is true, how did you get sent here? If you didn't have the technology required?"

"While I don't know the intricacies of it all, I had a more scientifically acquainted friend investigate it. Apparently, it involves the Sinnohan legendaries. The biggest fish of them all. Those legendaries."

Skeptical operatives suddenly weren't so skeptical. He knew they'd read up on Team Galactic. What they wanted to do was borderline world breaking. Not many knew of Arceus and the two lesser known Palkia and Dialga, but those who did knew they were very much real, and their powers were in a league so removed from regular pokemon that they could practically be considered gods.

"They did something half a million years ago that broke time and space, opened up cracks in the world and the only place they led was to the future, because they basically altered the past and made it so that humans never existed."

At more skeptical and confounded looks, he held up a finger to let himself finish.

"For a hundred thousand years humans were extinct on Earth, but all of a sudden primitive people sprang up all over. Your ancestors, not mine. Backward, but very much human. But also not pokemon. You lost your abilities and your strength, but kept the intelligence. Arceus changed humans to be a completely different species altogether. Ripping through time and space though? Not just every moment in time but every fraction of every second? They might be the most powerful beings we know of, but they're not precise enough to cover all holes. And there were holes. Lots of them. Some of us fell in. I did." Riven nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I got here five years ago with no knowledge of technology, the world around me, or what happened. I was a stranger in a strange land, one where pokemon and people worked together. And there've been others in the past, some faded into obscurity, others legends with powers that couldn't be explained and thought to be just exaggerations. They're not, just like those Sinnohan folk tales aren't. People and pokemon were one and the same."

A pause.

"That place I come from? That fucked up shithole? You know why it was like that? Neither do I." Darkness trailed and curled around his fingertips. "A nearly thousand year war for reasons I'm pretty sure I don't even have the slightest about. I can assume though. I was part of a clan that everyone hated. Not because we were assholes, but because we were something else. Dark. Evil—I guess. They feared us for the same reason every one of you is secretly fingering that trigger. Fear. It was all fear. And so they killed us, and we fought back. For one thousand… fucking years. Maybe just because of typings. Horrible things can happen when an entire people are afraid of something. Given my abilities, it was no surprise they made us out to be monsters."

There was silence. Allen had returned some time ago, and he simply placed the chips on the table. "What clan were you from?"

"Cerul," Riven answered sadly. "Our leader tried to make peace with our enemies. And they violated that peace and committed a genocide against us. Just a few men with powerful fire abilities burned our entire city to ashes, along with everyone else. Blast burn. Nothing survived. It was stupid and foolish and hopeful. That man was my father. Want to know my real name, Allen? Riven Cerul; his only son. Some lucky son of a bitch I am, right?"

He smiled in pity and no one said a word.

"I was seven. Just a kid. Lost everything, even my parents. Then I joined up with the remnant of the Cerul army and then I lost that too, including someone I looked up to and my best friend. Not counting everyone else. "

Will's pocket felt heavy, reminded of whose knife that originally belonged to. He didn't want to think about it.

"Just as I was about to die to a bunch of Arcanine, I fell into a rip in time and ended up here, a worthless soldier that didn't know how to do anything but fight. But this world, your world, is much better than mine would ever be. Say what you like about my intentions now, those don't matter. What does matter is that I don't want this world to go down the metaphorical shithole either. I like it here, I got better here. The gym leaders, Gale, my pokemon, Will… I've met people I don't want to lose. Not again."

Yates collected himself and glanced at Lucia, who was staring at the floor, blinking repeatedly. Will had heard the story before, but every time Riven told it, there was so much pain in the words that he couldn't really imagine it, couldn't see what that was like. He'd lost Nez, but that was a personal pain, not like that. No one could imagine something like that, there hadn't been conflict on that scale since the Kalosian war, and most of the wars fought never lasted that long. No one really knew.

"Why would this world become like that?"

"Because history repeats itself if you let it. Not exactly the same, but close enough. Just like it almost did today, and we're not even sure if it's the end yet. That light in Driftveil, how old were the ruins there?"

An operative pulled up a tablet, searching up the information. She held it up and scrolled down the page, looking up archaeological reports. "Twenty two thousand years, approximately. They've hailed it as an amazing discovery, and after that lightshow it put on, said it was unlike anything they've ever seen before."

Riven chuckled and shook his head, opening the bag of chips with a ruffle of fingers. "Twenty two thousand, the magic number. What they found was a sphere. That isn't the first one to exist. I found one of those in Granite Cave on Dewford—a blue one, as blue as the ocean with glowing white glyphs on the surface. Every sphere is identical and only vary in color. The spheres also seem to have some kind of memory storing ability, like a camera taking a video." He saw Will turn his attention to him. "I thought it didn't do anything apart from that, until Will and I got stuck in the desert and thirsty, hungry, and dying we found some ruins guarded by Claydol. The sphere reacted and opened up a spear with a red sphere like fire in the middle. And then Will touched it. What happened afterward? Let him show you."

Will tensed as every operative practically flung their attention on him. Standing up precariously, Lucia led him over to the table with a comforting hand on the shoulder. He gave Riven a look, seeking approval. Riven dipped his head and closed his eyes as Will held up a single finger. Fire shot out from the tip, flaring embers up towards the ceiling and scorching tile. He stepped away and slowly, bright orange flames engulfed his wrists and legs, burning away clothing and bathing the room in heat and light.

"He was born in Slateport," Riven said to awestruck operatives, gobsmacked when they glanced at Lucia as if asking whether she knew. "This civilization that left those ruins was global, they spanned the entire planet and now they're gone without hardly a trace save for the ruins. Because they found a way to revert humans to what they once were. Want to guess what happened?"

"A second purge," Lucia mentioned grimly. "He didn't have to eradicate humans entirely… just the civilization that knew how to bring about the old world. He was trying to prevent it from ever occurring."

"And now Singularity is trying to figure out how they did it. with no idea what they're getting into and for who knows what twisted reason either. From the looks of today, they're getting damn close." Riven threw a chip in his mouth. "History tends to repeat itself. And you know what they say…"

There was a loud crunch and a pitying, hollow laugh. Riven smiled viciously, picturing Arceus sitting on a golden throne made of unanswered prayers and promises, just waiting.

"Third time's a charm, right?"

Riven had walked out of the waiting room more tired than he ever could be. Not one of the operatives dared stop him, even Allen back off. Lucia and Will knew where he was headed, and decided to be elsewhere. Yates had returned his pokemon without hesitation and promised to keep him updated on any situations that arose. He'd also given him a secure line from which to call for help, if needed.

It was thoughtful, but the entire conversation had been draining, and left him a wreck. A failed prince turned mercenary. Ironies were the universe's favorite.

He waited in front of the operating room, releasing his team. The Castform subtly asked for Gale, to which Riven replied with a sad smile. Haona rested her head on his knee and whined softly. Aine was silent, sitting in a chair in silence. Baron saw the outside of the room and stared at his hands, as if cursing his own ability to heal, wishing it were better. Riven waited until morning with them, stroking Haona's fur to calm his nerves. No one slept, no one moved. When the surgeons left, they were bloody and exhausted from a long and arduous procedure. A stretcher came and took Gale away, barely giving Riven a chance to get a glimpse.

He stopped one of the lead surgeons before he left.

"Is she alright?" He asked, eyes heavy with fatigue.

The surgeon lowered his facemask and frowned. "Are you her traveling partner?" There was an audible exhaustion in his voice, and he seemed saddened when he saw Riven's pokemon look up at him with the same look of concern on their faces.

"Yes."

"I see. I'm not going to lie to you. She needed blood transfusions. A lot of them. The wound she had was curved and forked, designed to cause as much damage as possible and bleed her to death. Most likely purposely missed most of her vitals for a slower death. Whatever sick degenerate did this, I hope he pays."

"He will when I find him. He won't get sent to the hospital, he's going to the morgue," Riven growled through gritted teeth. The surgeon didn't even try to argue that. "Is she dead?"

"No, thankfully. We were told a Gallade used heal pulse on her, and targeted her intestines first from the looks of it. Smart pokemon." He noticed Baron sitting in a chair, clenching green fists so hard he thought they'd break. "She would have had enormous damage to her organs if it hadn't, but she still suffered some nonetheless. With time she can recover from it with some complications but the immediate issue is that she bled so much that she went into hypovolemic shock, we had to pump more blood into her if we wanted to save her. Multiple transfusions and drugs to raise her heartbeat as well. Suturing the wounds took hours from the way the blade entered and as a result she's… I'm sorry. She's in a coma, we're not sure if she'll wake up."

Dejected, Riven's jaw clenched, nodding. "When she's there, can you let her Mightyena and Fletchinder out? They might want to be with their trainer. The others are too big."

"Of course."

Riven slowly let go of the surgeon's hand and turned to his team as he walked off. They'd all been with Gale for years, and she was like their second trainer—a mother figure of sorts, and as such, developed a strong sense of trust and affection towards her. As strong as their connection to their own trainer, even.

Baron cursed loudly, and his horn dulled, reflecting his inner mood. He stood up and demanded to be returned, with Aine following suit and Boagrius requesting it as well. The only one who stayed was Haona, crestfallen and sullen. She nudged Riven's hand.

Let's go see her.

Riven came to the main desk as a nurse entered information into a binder, keeping track of new entries and patients. "Excuse me, miss. Do you know where Gale Serna's room is? She just got out of surgery."

"Yes, she did," she confirmed. "Who are you, may I ask? If you're not family, I can't let you in, she's still very weak and in no condition to be disturbed."

He remembered what she'd told him about her father and her lonely upbringing, shaking his head. "She doesn't have any family. Her father died years ago. No siblings or uncles she knows of."

"Then who are you-"

"Please," he pleaded. "I want to see her. I need to see her. She's important to my team, she's like their second trainer. And damn it... she's important to me too. Please let me see her."

The nurse looked stunned, and recognized that pain in his eyes, that worry. Working in a hospital made it so common and yet it was always heartwrenching to see. What she saw in him…

"Room 456, fourth floor, right side of the building past the elevators. Take care of her."

Riven gave her a melancholic but thankful smile. "She's always taken care of me. Thank you."

The nurse smiled back, and wrote two letters onto a piece of paper.

S.O.

When Riven saw her, laying in that hospital bed with a breathing apparatus on her face and IVs running through her arm, he felt a wave of guilt grip his heart like a Kingler's claw. Evie sat at the side of the bed, whining painfully as she licked Gale's fingers. Vizi sat perched on a chair, too saddened and furious to offer so much as an indignant breath of flame at Riven. He came to Evie's side, stroking her fur like he did to Haona.

She gave another sad whine and licked her fingers again.

He slipped on the translator headset over his ears, nodding at Evie.

"Will she be fine?" She asked lowly, synthetic voice trembling. "Why isn't she waking up? Why?"

Riven seemed to hold on his answer, unsure whether how to answer. How could he answer? Evie didn't understand, she had to have hope, even when he didn't. Even when he was so jaded he knew that she'd probably die right in front of him, because that's what always happened to his friends. Dying while he lived. And so he lied. "She'll wake up soon. She was hurt badly, Evie. She'll wake up soon."

She whined again.

"Make him pay," Vizi said angrily, flaring fire between her feathers. "Make the one who did this pay. I'll burn him until nothing's left when I evolve. I swear."

"He will pay," Riven declared. "If she doesn't wake up, I'll tear apart land, heaven, and seas to find him."

Gale had been one of the reasons he'd gotten through Kalos. She'd taken care of his pokemon and not just that but… her entire presence had changed him. Just having a traveling partner, someone who liked his crazy ideas and listened… it felt nice. It felt just like those times with Yanine, Kasaic, and the others around the fire—before the loss and the hunger and the cold. She was the string that tied those broken pieces of him together, the glue that made him forget about that painful past.

And now she was dying.

He waited several days until an entire week went by, leaving the room only to retreat to the pokemon center, eat, and shower. The doctors came in and asked him whether he'd like to take her off life support, but each time he refused, foolishly clinging onto that hope that she'd open her eyes and everything would be fine again.

In that week, the followers had made an announcement that they'd return, setting up a list of rules for the next tournament and goading the UFOs to "try something smart again". Yates had informed him to watch for a woman with black hair, gray eyes, and a strange marking on her face. She'd faced the operatives at Castelia by herself and blew past them, with bullets bouncing off of her like she was made of titanium plate. Another one of those mercenaries, probably. One from the city of steel. She hadn't killed any of them, but likely did it as a show of force.

On the other hand, Nimbasa largely returned to the way it used to be. The field ops had somehow managed to swipe whatever happened under the rug, and just how made Riven wonder. It's like the populace had completely forgotten. Tourism was back despite the construction of repairs, and Elesa's gym remained open, even with the loss of her lead pokemon.

Things more or less hadn't changed, and communication to the outside was still cut off.

Will and Lucia had left for Black City to check on the other operatives as well as Amy and Seab, who were still recovering in the hospital from minor injuries and some broken bones.

So far things had been quiet, but it'd be a long six months, maybe more or less depending on how quickly the other regions noticed. He gave it another week or two before things would start getting out of hand; a missing person's report here, a murder there. Soon trainers would start traveling in packs and murder rates would rise. Then the centers would start emptying.

Even when they won they lost.

He stared at Gale from his seat, wondering if he'd get to see her wisecrack again, and feeling like shit when the thought of never being able to registered in his mind. He'd warned her, and she hadn't listened. Isole had warned him, and he still couldn't stop her. Could the same happen to Will, or Seab, or Amy?

He didn't want to find out.

Then the door opened.

Beneath a doctor's garb and a facemask, a man held a bouquet of beautiful flowers, eyes as blue as the sky and hair that shone like gold. Knives flew into the wall beside him, with one impaling a rose in the bouquet, pinning it to the door behind him.

Tesla smiled, and set the flowers down on the table, unfazed.

"Hello, Prime. It's been a while, nice to see you again."

I said this was going to come out in a couple of days. I lied. I had finals and internet at my place of residence had been cut off abruptly. And there's a huge freaking fire blocking off the exit from the freeway, so I had to get the hell out of there before it got worse. Breathing in ash is bad news. So no net for me until I moved back home. This also was meant to be shorter but I ended up extending it, so here you go.

Poor Gale, much sad. Riven really does care.