NSO Chapter 46
4 days remaining.
I don't own Pokemon.
Four more days. The thought swam around in his head, not unlike what he was doing in the Gym. To gauge how long his held breath lasted, the white tiles of the room had folded back to provide a deep hole that filled itself quickly with water. Donning a provided floatation belt, the Umbreon bobbed face-down on the surface of the pool, his head completely submerged.
Four more Champions to meet.
This exercise was quite similar to his time-slowed mode. With his eyes closed, the water dampened all other external sensory inputs. It was just him, his heartbeat, and his thoughts.
I wonder how Cleo's doing down there. Does me being here mean we've broken up?
A small stream of bubbles escaped from his nose.
Of course we've broken up. She thinks I'm dead. I wish I could tell her I'm not… but how would she react to what I am now?
She'd be surprised. She'd be shocked.
She'd be hurt. Everyone would.
I hope the Erasure can put things right.
Zenith held on for a few more seconds before releasing the unbearable pressure that had built up in his chest. Time to surface and see how he did.
His eyes opened to a huge luminous yellow oval, with a beady dot in the centre whose attention was trained on him.
"Wha-?" Stunned, Zenith's concentration was broken by this sudden appearance. The desire to breathe took over, disregarding his current predicament. A mouthful of water was sucked in, rejected immediately by his body as he felt the liquid shoot down his windpipe and up his nose. The struggle between the need to exhale and to inhale began, with Zenith's limbs flailing wildly against the water for a paw hold that did not exist.
The oval drifted down into the depths of the pool, but that wasn't one of Zenith's concerns right now.
The surface.
He lifted his spluttering head out of the pool, holding it as high as possible while the rest of his body thrashed. The floatation belt was more hindrance than help in his time of panic, the stubborn buoyancy of his waist preventing the Umbreon from properly righting himself, and too small for him to hold on to.
And then whatever he had gulped down was knocked out of him by a force tackling him from below. The belt pressed into his belly as it was used to yank him out of the pool, leaving him to dangle in midair like a piece of wet laundry. At least there was air now, which he gulped down greedily.
"Sorry, Zenith! I didn't expect my presence to evoke such a reaction. Although I may have misplaced the fact that you organics do need to breathe."
The distinctive semi-robotic voice gave it away instantly.
He coughed, expelling water in a spray of droplets.
"Just—just surprised. Is all. I don't think I'm hurt."
"Hurt? [Initiating preliminary medical scan.]" Zenith was dropped rudely onto solid tiles. A beam shot out of the same yellow eyes that had scared him before, sweeping him from ears to tail.
"[No major physical injuries detected.] I'm so sorry for the rough landing. You really can't rid yourself of old programming."
"Programming…?" Zenith had only managed to unclip the 'belt', still too groggy to accept the towel that had risen out of the ground.
Right. He had read about this in History class. Porygons were artificial Pokemon created by the Devon Corporation two centuries ago, an unexpected advancement of their time. The initial purpose of Porygon was to carry out simple household tasks, and it received so much popularity that just five years later came the Porygon-2. It boasted better features, surpassing its predecessor in both functionality and sales. It was more versatile, their programming allowing Porygon-2s to fit into a multitude of roles, from companions to labourers to so much more. Then came the 'Dubious Disk' incident, where a Porygon-2 wide update gone wrong had sent the world grinding to a halt for a day while their company scrambled to release a patch. The patch was successful, and although all of the severe bugs were resolved, Devon Corp released on other products from that event onwards. With specialised parts no longer produced, Porygons eventually broke down and nothing like them had ever been replicated again. Zenith had only seen records of their physical existence in his textbooks and museum exhibits.
Now there was a Porygon-Z drying him off with a towel.
"I know this is kind of my fault, but we're on a tight schedule here. Are you able to stand up?"
Even with Poll-E's help, Zenith rose to his feet easier than he expected. She guided him over to the teleportation circle in the Gym, activating the holographic display.
"I'll need you to close your eyes for a second. No other Champion knows how to get there but me, and I plan to keep it that way." Seeing that the Umbreon had complied, Poll-E tapped seemingly random areas of the selection screen, a combination of rapid and long presses that looked like they had no effect.
There was no usual announcement from the teleportation ring before a white glow enveloped the two Pokemon.
…
"You can open your eyes now."
Zenith didn't need to see to sense the two godly auras in the room. Arceus and Dialga. He was in a cylindrical room with no windows or doors. Six teleportation rings were placed along half of the room's circumference. A large rectangular block of marble lay in the centre of the circular floor with a sheet of black glass lining the top.
"Welcome to the Teleportation Room, Zenith." Arceus' voice echoed around the tiny space. "Poll-E will give you a general description of this place before I share your reason here today."
"My turn!" Poll-E gestured towards the marble block, touching its surface. "Come here, Zenith."
A blue translucent hologram of the Earth popped up above the glass layer, rotating slowly. As Zenith approached, he could see a flat keyboard on the marble top too, which the Porygon-Z was entering strings of numbers and letters into. Coordinates. The Earth grew bigger, landscapes being magnified and zoomed past until an interconnecting network of lines and familiarly placed squares came into view.
His neighbourhood. Or more specifically, it was an aerial view of the street his house was on.
"The Teleportation Room is how we get sent to Earth for missions. To show you how it works, we're going to send you on a short quest today. Arceus normally briefs us."
"Zenith Schroff. Your objective is to retrieve any material possessions you may wish to bring back to the Hall of Legends. You are given two minutes on Earth to complete your mission."
"Two minutes?"
"This is why I'm pushing you so hard." Dialga finally spoke. "On Earth, being noticed is a risk no one here is allowed to take, especially when we send Champions to populated areas. In public, your identities and activities have to be undetectable. I trust you know what that means."
Zenith gulped, suddenly conscious of his breathing.
"Yes, Dialga."
"Good. Now to align times." The Legendary shut his eyes, and a sensation Zenith hadn't felt in a while washed over him. He was standing on the riverbed in the stream of time, undercurrents tugging and colliding against him as they sped up. The stream was stronger now, almost bowling him over with increasing force. Zenith shut his eyes tight as the sound of rushing water filled his ears. He dug his claws into the riverbed, barely hanging on to avoid being swept along by the water that was pulling on his head, his body, his—
"Local time: 20:28."
The world righted itself. Zenith blinked. It looked like he was the one that experienced that.
"Zenith, you're up. Stand on one of the teleportation rings. You may feel some slight discomfort, but nothing you'll get used to."
Poll-E pushed a button on the control panel. Golden light blasted down onto the circle, the silhouette of the Umbreon on it slowly disintegrating away as it was swallowed up by the radiance.
…
Science or magic? That was the last thing on Zenith's mind before Poll-E activated the teleporter, and the first thing he remembered when he was spat out of the ground. The sun was starting to set, but the alleyway he teleported into was full of shadows.
Remember this location, Zenith. You need to come back here for us to teleport you back.
Dialga? You still have the PLC?
Huh? Yeah, I just got it from my quarters. Activate your Gift now.
STOP! Zenith shouted the command mentally, making sure to take in as deep of a breath as he could.
Wow. That was loud.
The already dim environment darkened even further, turning various shades of red as it caused his night vision to kick in. That included the spotlight from his mechanical organ. He knew it was supposed to provide extra visibility, but it was more of a hindrance to his fluctuating night vision.
Speaking of which, Zenith suppressed a groan when he looked down his flank. Though faint, his rings still glowed a noticeable blue, and it was probably the same case for his bands.
He stepped out onto the sidewalk, hoping that no one was out at this hour.
Zenith scampered along the pavement, slowing to a trot when he drew close to the place most familiar to him.
Nothing had changed, but he hadn't expected it to in just a few days. No lights were turned on in the house. Circling the property, he noticed a slightly ajar window overlooking the backyard.
That's my window.
You'll have plenty of time to reminisce later. Climb!
Zenith's lungs were about to burst by the time he pulled the window open. Slipping into the room, an empty bed confirmed his theory: no one was at home. The thought gave him enough courage to resume time's flow in an attempt to refill his lungs.
Tick tock, Zenith. A minute and fifteen seconds remaining.
Yeah, yeah. I… know.
This was his room, emphasis on 'was'. There were new bedsheets, with new clothes strewn messily across the floor. New books sat on his desk, including an open notebook full of scribbles and neat, complex symbols. Maybe it was the lack of air, but Zeniths only put two and two together when he noticed the new bag slung on his chair.
Gayle's bag. This is her room now.
Fascinating observation. One minute.
Assuming his things hadn't been thrown out, they must be packed in the garage. Slowing time again, Zenith opened the door and leapt over a bannister, sliding down the staircase railing to reach the first floor.
I always wanted to do that.
The door to the garage in the kitchen wasn't locked too, and sure enough, there were three boxes with the Umbreon's name scrawled in thick marker. They weren't taped up yet, so the Umbreon began digging through their contents, searching for one item in particular.
Make sure that you take all things you value.
Why do I even need to come down here? Can't Legendaries teleport items?
Find someone who cares enough to expend energy being your personal deliverymon, and I'll go easy on you during practice.
Ha. Wait. No. Nonononono.
Zenith had brushed aside clothing, his past 'inventions' and assessment books, but as he scraped the bottom of the last box, icy dread was settling in the pits of his stomach.
My belt's not here. I must've been wearing it when I drowned, or… or it's in her house.
It was ironic how Zenith was forced to only think of her, yet he remembered nothing about her, least of all where she lived.
I'm not getting that belt back.
He put everything back inside the boxes, retracing his steps when leaving the house to make sure nothing gave away his being here. Closing the window behind him, Zenith decided to sit on his roof to savour what little time he had left here.
He hadn't yet spared a glance at the house across the street, and his position high above gave him a good view of the building. Curtains were drawn over their windows, but they weren't enough to block the light shining from within, outlining motionless silhouettes against the fabric that were too vague to make out.
Part of him wanted to go up to that house and ring the doorbell. Or even leave a note to his mom to tell her about everything. He shifted on the roof restlessly, contemplating all sorts of things to do before finally deciding to push off the slanted tiles.
There was nothing else he could do here.
Hold on.
A large trash bag gleamed in the corner of his eye. It was placed outside the Torrent's trash can, bloated with its contents.
Really? You're looking through trash?
Dialga's condescending tone was lost on Zenith. He fumbled with the untidy knot, sharp corners poking at his paws through the plastic. He managed to untie the bag, and the first thing he saw was a Machoke in a half-buttoned white dress shirt carrying a Meinshao in a ballroom gown, eyes locked deeply with one another.
These are Cleo's books. But why?
His eyes widened as light spilt onto the dark lawn, creeping closer to him with every slowed second.
The front door was opening. He could see a light blue paw on the door handle.
He had to move, but his limbs were frozen in place.
15 seconds. GO!
The shout stirred Zenith back into action. He bolted immediately, leaping back into the alleyway just as the trash can was fully illuminated.
…
"Why'd you bring these back?"
"Impulse." Zenith gave his answer to Poll-E in between shallow pants. The other two Legendaries were no longer present upon his return, so she had been the only one to see the Umbreon drag his load into the Teleportation room before flopping against the marble block. The flimsy bag was starting to tear, allowing the Porygon-Z to look through an entire bookcase's worth of novels while Zenith caught his breath.
"You do realise that you can find exact copies of these books in the Library, right?" Poll-E was starting to sort the books, gingerly picking up some tattered, dog-eared paperbacks. "Perhaps even more… pristine copies. But I can understand grabbing something to remember her by."
Zenith's paws had been empty when he travelled back to Earth, and they felt even emptier now. Out of all his personal belongings, the item most important to him was gone. As for Cleo's books, he couldn't help but feel guiltier the longer his gaze lingered on them. They were taken, without permission from the Vaporeon. He should have grabbed something that had been gifted to him, like…
Like…
"I mean, you could have taken something nicer from her house, disregarding the fact that's burglary. Maybe something small that she wouldn't notice, like a pen. Although there's not much use for those in the Halls."
"Do you think I was a good boyfriend? To Cleo?"
"Hmm. Is the lack of a physical item from her during your relationship making you doubt the way the both of you see each other?"
"Huh? No. No, gifts weren't that important to both of us. I just… we're so far apart that our relationship is basically over, right? Maybe I should try to start moving on? I don't know. I'm clueless about what's happening on Cleo's end, but I feel like there should be some closure to…us."
"That makes sense. This is one long-distance relationship that's never working out. Especially since she thinks you're dead. Are you sure you want me to do it though? The complete, unfiltered words of a half-sentient computer could be hard to stomach."
"It's not like I'm going to be seeing anyone else anytime soon."
"Sure you won't."
"Wha-what does that mean—"
"I think you did better with Cleo than before. Your Past-Life showed many events happening between the two of you, and I have to admit it was mostly cute, excuse a bedroom scene. But I guess the early Lilipuppy love makes every decision seem great at the time, right?"
"Don't remind me."
"Anyways, you dated for less than five months. It's too early to make an analysis if you two would have made it work in the long run. However, your behaviour was on the right track this time. Sure, the bar was set pretty low, but it was nice seeing you improve after the last one."
"I'm just worried I took too much again."
"Well, Cleo did sacrifice a bit for you. Okay, a lot for you. But you two were filled with romantic love. You know, nature's little gift for you to breed while you guys are infatuated and dumb. True love would be the choice to continue loving one another through almost anything. And I could tell that you two were making that choice."
"Thanks…? I never really thought of Porygons being that wise about love."
"No problem. It's surprising how many articles on the internet talk about this. Also, why are you asking me about being a better partner? You won't be able to meet Cleo again unless… are you planning to date one of us? Is it Dan-O?"
"What? No!" Zenith scooted away from the Porygon-Z immediately, his face flushing red at the accusation.
"I haven't even met her. Closure, remember? Dialga also said emotional issues may… mess with my gifts."
"Right~. You're lucky my emotions are programmed so I can't debunk your lie. Here." Poll-E placed the assortment of books back into the bag, along with a blue disc. "Happy reading, or happy watching if you want. My Past-Life's nothing that interesting. A lot of soul-searching stuff and mooching off charging stations. Maybe a bit of hacking."
"Thanks again, Poll-E. Um… can I ask you for a favour?"
"Sure. What is it?"
"Could you help me with my eye? There are some functions I want to add, but I'm still unsure about coding, and since you're a computer…"
"What, you think just being a machine means that I'm well-versed in every kind of programming language out there?" Poll-E interjected, her pupils contracting into tiny dots.
"…"
"Cause that's absolutely right. What do you want to be added?"
"I have a list, actually. I haven't written it out yet, but I could—"
A loud beeping interrupted Zenith again. It was coming from the Poll-E, who had shot up into the air the moment it went off. It was probably an alarm, seeing how the Porygon-Z had noticeably hastened.
"Shoot. It's a minute before our session ends, and I REALLY don't want to get on Dialga's bad side. Pass your list to me when you have the time. Right now you have to get to whatever's next on your schedule. Put your bag of stuff on the teleportation pad. I'll send it to your room for you."
Zenith had no time to thank her for a third time as he was pushed onto another teleportation circle. Poll-E's two fingers danced across the dashboard to input Zenith's destination, hesitating over the 'Enter' option.
"I hope you figure things out, Zenith. Good luck."
White light obscured the Umbreon for a second, and he was gone.
…
Zenith almost walked into a giant blue leg when he stepped out of the circle.
"You're fifteen seconds early. Good."
He was back in a Combat Chamber, but Dialga wasn't standing imposingly from across the arena like before. If anything, it was more intimidating that the Legendary had placed himself so close to the teleporter, but had not spared a glance at the Umbreon since his entrance.
"Walk with me." Dialga started to stroll around the perimeter of the arena, with footsteps so large that Zenith broke into a brisk jog in order to keep up.
"I sensed a lot of conflict in your mind when you were back on Earth."
"Just a bit bummed out about how things turned out down there, that's all."
"Do you think this stroke of misfortune could affect your performance as a Champion?"
"I promise I'll be fine. That belt meant a lot, but I… I can get over it, right? I should. Yes. Just give me time to make another."
"I see. While I like to see you're picking up on the expected attitude in the Halls, that time you want is simply not the time you have. Stand back, please."
There was no dazzling display this time. A black belt simply appeared out of thin air, inches from the Legendary's forehead.
"Here."
The utility belt dropped into Zenith's paw, the Umbreon giving it a thorough once-over. It was his, all right. His mom's birthday note was stitched on the inside. The pouches lining its length still contained scraps of paper and small items he'd tucked away. The belt did feel lighter than before, but that didn't matter compared to the familiarity of clipping it around his waist.
"Thank you, Dialga. Thankyouthankyouthankyou."
"This only means practice is getting harder." The Legendary had vanished and reappeared at the opposite end of the arena.
"Ready!"
Zenith knew what to expect as the thundering voice reverberated around the space. He leapt backwards, slowing time down enough to see a thin blue streak strike the mat where he had stood. Despite himself, he couldn't resist a faint smile at the additional weight.
Maybe things will turn out right after all.