This chapter introduces a new OC, one from my friend Voltage the Pikachu (known on this site as Pikachumaster18). You'll know which character it is, I assume, once you have read this chapter.

I'd like to thank everyone once more for reading. I'm having so much fun writing Time Will Crawl and The Promised Underland.

Current music: Evil - Interpol

ZADE'S POV

From the moment that Absol broke through the protective barrier, I knew that I was in for a very difficult conversation with my grandfather.

It wasn't possible. At least, it shouldn't be possible, but the unthinkable happened all the time. Just ask the people who worked at Chernobyl in 1986. Or, for that matter, my grandfather who had discovered a Litleo in our midst.

Speaking of my grandfather, we found him in his small cabin near the entrance to the Ring of Fire. From it, the 30-foot fence that separated this seemingly-empty plot of land from the outside world was very much visible.

"So please tell me what happened, slowly" Agarth instructed me. "My hearing isn't what it used to be."

"Well, I was giving Lucas a magic lesson, and then an Absol got through the barrier. It attacked us, and we were forced to fight it."

My grandfather nodded. "And then what happened?"

"Well, it fled eventually, but it's still pretty scary," I told Agarth. "That stuff's not supposed to happen."

"Indeed it isn't. But I don't know what caused it without more information. The important thing is that both of you appear to be unharmed."

At the word unharmed, Lucas glanced down at one of his legs, from which a good amount of blood was leaking. And then I remembered that the Absol had scratched him with a Night Slash. When used in wartime, those pesky attacks were meant to maim, not to kill, since resources were required to evacuate and treat the victim. But it was still a serious injury that risked infection if it wasn't treated.

"I should correct myself," Agarth noted, seeing that Lucas had winced. "Let me heal you up right now."

Agarth sang a song in an ancient language that even I didn't recognize. He insisted that he'd teach it to me when it was time - but given that I was now eighteen, when would it be time?

Anyway, this healing spell had a near-immediate effect on its recipient. Lucas sighed with what must have been relief within seconds, and I saw that the wound on his leg had begun to close over in real-time.

"Thanks," Lucas said.

"It's nothing," Agarth insisted. "The same cannot be said of the event that caused that injury. An Absol has breached the barrier and attacked a resident of the Ring of Fire. That's just not…it's not okay."

"No shit" I muttered. "Any idea what caused it?"

"Well," my grandfather replied, "there are a few ideas that come to mind, though proving any of them is very difficult. Strictly speaking, science doesn't prove anything."

Lucas frowned. "I thought you guys tried to avoid science when possible."

Agarth gasped, then glared at his ungrateful former patient.

"There's a false dichotomy in the human world about how magic and science cannot possibly be compatible. Well, let me tell you something…it's all, pardon my language, bullshit."

I couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Despite the seriousness of the situation at hand, there was still some levity to be had when my grandfather swore.

"So what are your theories?" I asked my grandfather once the mild laughter had subsided. "Why did the barrier fail when it did?"

"Well," Agarth responded, "keep in mind that it could be a combination of these. The first one is that I'm getting old - that's no secret."

"Why would that matter?" Lucas wondered aloud.

"Because I don't have the stamina that I used to. Which means my magical abilities are no longer as powerful as they used to be. It is possible that the protective charms around this area are gradually weakening as I age."

"Well, that can't be good," I muttered.

"It isn't. But I don't think that's the truth; at least, not the complete truth. I'd think that if it were solely my age, there would be more signs of a gradual weakening. We wouldn't go from zero to an Absol attack in one fell swoop."

Lucas gulped. "Maybe it's like that story of the frog in the pot of water. If you drop the frog in boiling water right away, it'll jump out. But if the water temperature rises gradually, the frog won't notice until it's too late."

Agarth frowned. "What's your point, Lucas?"

"My point is," the Litleo responded, "that each step in the weakening may not have been too noticeable, but the final result certainly is."

"That is possible," Agarth granted Lucas, "but I don't think it's likely."

"So what's your other theory?" I asked. "Why else would the barrier break now of all times?"

My grandfather sighed. "I have another idea," he admitted, "but you're not going to like it."

"I'd rather know the truth and be frightened than remain oblivious to it" I insisted.

"Well then, okay" Agarth replied softly. "My second theory is that something - or someone - entered the exclusion zone, and they're not supposed to be here. Maybe that something has such a strong scent that enemies can't help but smell it from miles away."

Agarth didn't have to clarify what he was implying here, because let's face it: All three of us knew it already.

"No," Lucas gasped. "It can't be."

I grimaced. "Are you suggesting that Lucas is the reason the barrier failed?"

"Nothing can be ruled out here" Agarth stated.

Lucas' face clammed up - by now he was almost as pale as the snow outside the cabin's walls.

"Agarth, it wasn't me! I'm not a saboteur or anything!" he pleaded. "Don't kick me out!"

"Well, I could do a magical polygraph test," my grandfather acknowledged. "But I won't. I see no reason not to give you the benefit of the doubt, at least for now."

"Thank you" Lucas replied breathlessly, but he still looked a little uneasy.

That still left us with an uncomfortable question. We did not want to kick Lucas out of the village - he most likely had nowhere else to go. But if we kept him in the Ring of Fire, and my grandfather's second hunch was correct, our exclusion zone might not be so exclusive anymore.

"I'll do what I can to increase the strength of the barrier," Agarth insisted. "Even if it means sleepless nights. The protection of the Ring of Fire is worth it."

"Gramps, you don't have to - " I began.

"Of course I have to, Zade!" my grandfather snarled. "Keeping everyone in the exclusion zone safe is my highest priority!"

I sighed. When my grandfather made up his mind that something was going to happen, that it couldn't be resisted, there was no persuading him otherwise. For better or for worse, I had to shut up.

"Okay then," Lucas spoke up. "So how do I know it's not my fault?"

"I just said it wasn't!" Agarth boomed.

Why would you dig your own grave like that? Why would you even bring that question up when you've already been set free?

"I didn't do anything on purpose," the Litleo insisted. "It's just…if I tainted this place somehow, I'm not going to forgive myself. Even if I have no choice out there."

"It's okay, Lucas," I told him. "We're not going to eject you from the village. Right, Gramps?"

Agarth nodded. "I don't know why you even wanted to put that in the air," he said.

We all stood there for a few minutes, looking at each other. In that respect, we were engaging in the world's longest staring contest of all time. There was no way you could keep your eyes open for so long without blinking, and yet that's what we were doing.

Finally, my grandfather relented. "There's someone else you all should talk to," he remarked.

"Who's that?" Lucas enquired, taking a step back from Agarth.

"Well, I don't know how much information she has," my grandfather admitted. "But maybe she is the answer we're seeking."

"I don't get it," I muttered. "Who is she?"

"Let me go and fetch her," Agarth replied. My grandfather turned around to do just that.

Lucas glanced at me. "This is news to you too?"

I nodded. "I didn't know there was anyone else living in this house."

And I was telling the truth. I visited my grandfather frequently - after all, he was all I had left besides Bray in terms of biological family. But I'd never seen anybody else.

Did Gramps lose his marbles? It can't be - he's been sharp as a tack for as long as I can remember!

Moments later, Agarth emerged from the back room of the cabin, and in his wake walked a Fennekin I didn't recognize. However, I knew enough to be aware of one thing: Her fur was almost as bright as the sun.

"There's been a Shiny Fennekin in this house the whole time?" I all but gasped.

The Shiny Fennekin (what had Agarth said her name was, again?) covered her eyes with her paws. She also squealed uncomfortably, and that's when I knew somehow that she wasn't happy to be here.

"Don't scare her," Agarth chastised me.

"I'm not trying to scare her," I insisted. "I'm just a bit surprised. How long has she been living here?"

"One week" the Shiny Fennekin replied, tears in her eyes.

"So she got here a week before me," Lucas remarked. "But if she wasn't supposed to be here, why would the barrier have - ?"

"Stop talking about me that way!" the Shiny Fennekin shrieked. "I'm a Fennekin, not some object you can play with! I've got emotions too, you know!"

"Selene has a point, you know" Agarth muttered. "You shouldn't talk about people - or Pokémon - as though they're not there."

"Right," Lucas and I responded in unison.

Agarth turned to Selene. "I apologize for putting you through this conversation. You shouldn't have to deal with Pokémon who don't know how to talk to you politely."

Selene grumbled, then stared back up at us. "Who are you two?" she exclaimed.

"I'm Zade, Agarth's grandson," I told her. Then, gesturing toward the Litleo, I continued: "And he's Lucas."

Lucas frowned. "I can introduce myself, thank you very much."

"Whatever."

"Look, Selene," Agarth told the Shiny Fennekin. "Lucas is new here as well. He just arrived a few hours ago. In that sense, he's newer than you are to the Ring of Fire."

"How did he get here?" Selene wondered aloud. This question caused Lucas to visibly squirm.

"Probably the same way you did," my grandfather pointed out. "You got lost in the woods, didn't you, and then came across this place?"

I noticed that Lucas' face was now the color of ash.

Selene nodded. "Well, that's not the whole story" she began. "But it'll suffice for now."

Only later would I wonder why she'd omitted part of the story, and, more importantly, what it was she'd neglected to tell us (which would help field the former question too.) But at the time, those questions somehow didn't occur to me, perhaps because I didn't want to scare her away more than we already had.

Agarth nodded. "That is okay, Selene. You do not need to tell us any more than you are comfortable sharing. We're just glad that you found this village safely, and that the Absol attack didn't harm you."

Selene grimaced. "There was an Absol?" she exclaimed. "Right outside the village?"

"It actually got into the exclusion zone" I informed her. "That's what we were just talking about with my grandfather."

"Oh my Arceus," Selene muttered, rolling her eyes back in her head and putting her paws over them again.

"We're all frightened," Agarth said, clearly in an attempt to comfort the Shiny Fennekin. Turning to me, he continued with, "Even I am scared. Ever since this village was founded, we haven't been in this much danger. And I don't know what will happen next - I used to think I did, but now I'm not sure."

I cast a glance at Lucas, who looked ready to hurl, pass out, or both. To me, that raised another question:

What does Lucas know, and for how long has he known it?

SITUATION ROOM

The hours had ticked by at a snail's pace. Those inclined to make references to obscure 1980s music might have said that time crawled.

And yet, the Cabinet was still there. President Fiddlesticks was among them, gazing at the face of his chief of staff, hoping and praying that the articles of impeachment would be withdrawn at any moment.

Now it was midday, and the White House's culinary team had come to serve the executive officials lunch. But it was to be a working lunch, meaning that the President was not able to enjoy it with his beloved Angelina.

"Thank you" Hammer told the attendant who brought him his meal. Turning to his boss, the chief of staff said the following: "So, Mr. President, have you heard the latest update?"

The President shook his head. "What update?" The "brain fog" had returned, hanging over his mind like an invisible miasma. He just couldn't recall what his chief of staff was talking about.

Hammer sighed. "I think you should explain it to him, Secretary Apollo."

The head of the Department of Health and Human Services swiveled in the direction of his boss. Secretary Apollo's expression was very grave indeed, as though he were a doctor giving a patient a terminal diagnosis.

"We've been here for three hours" the HHS secretary all but snapped. "Three hours. A hundred and eighty minutes. And you don't remember what this meeting is about?"

"No?" President Fiddlesticks replied. "Why should I?"

Secretary Apollo seemed to be fighting the urge to bang his fist against the table. (If he gave in to this temptation, an attendant would likely swoop in to shout something like, That is MAHOGANY!)

Laura Howell, the Secretary of Transporation, sighed. "Look, Mr. President. If you do not remember even the details of this meeting, we may indeed have to invoke the 25th Amendment. And we don't want to do that. It'll give the House even more reason to impeach you than they already had."

"Great," the President sighed.

Secretary Howell frowned. "No, Mr. President, it's not great."

"That was sarcasm" President Fiddlesticks clarified, surprised that he even needed to do this.

"Well, it wasn't very funny," Hammer muttered. "In any case, I'll turn on the TV right now. We'll tune it to the channel for C-SPAN, and then we'll be able to watch the proceedings in the House."

"The House is going to impeach me?" the President asked. "Why, what did I do?"

"It's less about what you did," Secretary Apollo replied, "and more about what you aren't doing. In any case, let's see what's on television."

C-SPAN was showing a live feed of the House of Representatives chamber of Congress. In the middle of the massive, ornate building, there sat a small, bespectacled man in what looked like a throne - he held a gavel.

"Why is he holding a gavel?" the President wondered aloud.

"Because he's the Speaker of the House" Hammer clarified, his face falling. "And the Speaker has a gavel - that's just the way it works."

"Huh."

And yet, as President Fiddlesticks glanced up at the TV, where the Speaker stood with his gavel, he was yet again struck by a powerful sense of deja vu.

He'd been here before. He'd experienced this exact situation before, in fact. So why couldn't he remember how it all ended up?

Hammer sighed, picking up the remote and turning off the TV. "They're still debating the articles of impeachment. I don't think we're going to miss anything until they actually vote on them."

"Maybe not," Secretary Apollo muttered, "but we'd still benefit from knowing what the GOP's arguments will be once the trial begins."

President Fiddlesticks put his head in his hands yet again, shaking it from side to side and moaning.

"My head hurts," he said, which was true. It was a slight throb behind his forehead - nothing too excruciating, but still more than enough to qualify as an annoyance.

Secretary Howell sighed. "You can rest after this working lunch is over. I notice that you've barely touched your food so far."

President Fiddlesticks glared at his Transportation Secretary. "That's because I'm not hungry. Why would I eat if I'm not hungry?"

Indeed, he didn't feel like eating anything, even the finest food in the world that sat on a plate before him. The President knew that he should remember something, but precisely what that was eluded him. It was like the gingerbread man yelling Catch me if you can! And no matter how fast President Fiddlesticks ran, the gingerbread man would continue to be just a little too quick.

Given all that, it was perhaps no surprise he lacked an appetite.

"So what's the latest crisis we have to deal with?" President Fiddlesticks asked eventually. By this time, everyone else had finished their meal, and the President had motioned for an attendant to take his food away. The thought of sticking even a small piece of food in his mouth made him want to hurl.

Hammer frowned. "Well, there seem to be wars going on all over the world. How about you put together an intelligent statement about one of them?"

"No comment."

Secretary Apollo grimaced. "Maybe we can prepare a statement about addressing the disparities in health factors and outcomes between Pokémon in upper-class neighborhoods and those in less affluent locales. Or we can talk about discrimination against Fighting-types."

"I don't feel like doing any of that today" the President mumbled. And it was true - his eyelids felt heavy and his muscles felt weak, as though he were sick or simply very sluggish. To sit by a fireplace or furnace with a blanket and a good book was the first thing he wanted to do.

Of course, it was also the last thing he needed to do. He had to project leadership and strength - otherwise, he'd be impeached, and not because he'd eaten too much fruit.

Hammer sighed. "Look, if we need to send you to Walter Reed for a physical…".

"I'm fine!" President Fiddlesticks insisted. In reality, he was anything but. He wanted - needed - his Cabinet to go on thinking that nothing was wrong with him. But that ship might have sailed already.

The minutes ticked by as dread filled the President's chest. For the next hour, he spoke only when spoken to, but that didn't guarantee a lack of humiliation. Quite the opposite.

I know I was here a few days ago. I just know it. So why can't I show it?

"Shall we turn on C-SPAN again?" Secretary Apollo enquired. "I think they'll be voting on the articles now - wasn't the vote scheduled for 2 PM?"

Hammer nodded. The President's chief of staff grabbed the remote and clicked the button that would bring the screen to life.

Speaker Frank Fly held the gavel, banging it against the wood. He wore an expression that was clearly intended as a cross between gravity and mockery.

"All right, it's time for the vote. Recall that this motion is to adopt an article of impeachment: The charge is that the accused, 'President' Andreas Fiddlesticks, is unfit for office due to a declining mental state. Representative Acorn?"

"Aye."

"Representative Adelaide?"

"Aye."

President Fiddlesticks gulped. He may not have felt as coherent as he normally did (even that was a low bar at age 81), but he knew without a doubt that the first two votes being ayes couldn't be a good sign.

"Representative Ayer?"

"Nay."

The first vote in the negative, and it's near the end of the A's. I'm in trouble.

"Representative Bannock?"

"Aye."

The voting continued, and President Fiddlesticks could tell based on the other faces in the room that it wasn't looking good. Hammer's face was the color of ash, and he was fidgeting, something the chief of staff almost never did.

"Representative Cornwall?"

"Aye."

"Representative Courtland?"

"Nay."

"Representative Danforth?"

"Aye."

Secretary Apollo ran a hand over his bald head. He was a big man, and when he raised a fist as though about to bang it against the table, it struck fear into the hearts of the rest of the room.

"Don't do that!" Secretary Howell exclaimed. "Don't you dare! That is mahogany!"

"You're right," the HHS Secretary sighed. "I can't lose my cool here. It's just…they're doing it. They're impeaching him."

And by "him", they mean me, the President thought bitterly. The others were speaking about him as though he weren't there. As though he were the vegetable that the Republicans in Congress wanted the American people to think he was.

The voting continued.

"Representative Rainsford?"

"Aye."

"It's over," Secretary Apollo muttered. "There aren't enough Democrats left to stop the impeachment. I've done the math."

"But you don't know that," Secretary Howell challenged him. "Maybe there'll be a surprise like when that late Senator voted down the bill to take health care from the public."

"Maybe," Hammer said coolly. "But don't count on it."

The voting continued. This process was taking forever, the President reflected, and in the meantime he couldn't do anything but watch as the House of Representatives voted to assign to him the dubious distinction of being one of the few Presidents ever to be impeached.

Eventually, it was over. Once Representative Zaroff had voted Nay, the parliamentarian handed the Speaker of the House a sheet of paper, which presumably was used to tally the votes.

"Okay!" Speaker Fly announced, banging his gavel. "Listen up, all of you!"

The room was suddenly silent. Even those few firebrand Representatives who would normally have been cheering at what they'd just accomplished were able to quiet down. Make no mistake, though: Several of them could be seen practically bouncing in their seats. They knew what was coming.

"In this vote, the Ayes are 228 and the Nays are 207. The resolution is adopted, and President Andreas Fiddlesticks has been impeached."

Raucous applause followed within the House chamber. This applause was not, however, reflected in the Situation Room.

Because all of a sudden, the President's political world had changed, just as surely as if a tornado had ripped through it.