"—do this forever," a muffled voice finished saying. "I just can't see her reintegrating into society."

"There will be obstacles to overcome, yes, but it's not entirely her fault," Sheridan argued. "I just need more time to prepare her."

"It was hardly three months ago that she tried to escape in Alola, causing a massive avalanche that is still being recovered from," someone else said. "When was the last attack here?"

There was silence.

"How would you define attack?" the warden asked.

"Aggressive behavior that results in an attempt to harm someone, successfully or not," the voice answered, as if the answer was obvious. It sounded like the woman who had shown disdain at Morai's appearance earlier in the evening. "Please answer honestly."

"Morai hasn't attacked anyone for nearly two months."

"Is that so? Would the data found in the chip corroborate this?"

Morai felt her heart skip a beat. What had been dismissed as her paranoia had just been confirmed.

"Well...There was a bit of a slip-up earlier today, but it—"

"Today?" a few voices said in unison.

"Progress has been made," Sheridan argued. "I swear it. Her old self is beginning to shine through, it just takes time."

"How much time? After the holidays, it'll be a year since her arrest."

"Well, there's no clear way of knowing," the warden answered. "We're hoping to create something that counteracts the effects of the serum Team Rocket created, but that also takes time and research."

"Speaking of Team Rocket," another voice said. "Who's to say they won't just grab her up again and continue with their plans? They've been trying to get to her for a while now. She's an unfinished project. There's no telling what they'll do with that kind of power."

"Mrs. Sheridan, we'd like to put a plan forth that we believe is the best solution to this problem. Instead of spending so much time, effort, and money trying to make Morai...normal...again, we feel it may be best to use her strengths and abilities to our advantage."

"...What are you saying?" Sheridan asked. "Are you suggesting that we use her just like Team Rocket was going to? Weaponize a human being? Do you remember who she was before they ruined her?"

"Emphasis on the was. Morai is no longer the Champion we all used to love. Sheridan, you've done a wonderful job, but we're dealing with a whole new problem here where every plausible solution is frankly less than desirable. Just think of all the things we could accomplish with her abilities, specific abilities that, before now, haven't been seen in a human. Our biggest problem right now is Team Rocket. They've already created the weapon. All we have to do is turn around and use it on them."

"Morai would never agree to that," Sheridan flatly replied.

"We already have her in our custody. With the various methods of control that have already been developed, I'm sure she'll find the wisdom to comply sooner or later. She is a criminal guilty of many crimes, crimes that evidently continue to be committed during her stay here. This is simply the price that must be paid for them, and Team Rocket will pay for ruining her soul when their creation is the reason for their downfall. Morai will continue to serve for the betterment of the world, just like she did before. Unless you have any further arguments, we will move forward with this plan."

Morai backed away from the door, nearly tripping and falling down the stairs. She took the hypnotized guard's gun, collected darts from the others, and swung herself over the railing. She lost control of the guard in her rush to escape, but she didn't care. She ran as fast as she could. She could hear her heartbeat and feel it pound in her ears. She used foresight to dodge shots, taking out guards with both their own weapons and her own abilities.

"I'd like to bring the doctor into this discussion before a premature decision is made," Sheridan said, rising from her chair. "I'll go fetch him."

The warden opened the door to find three guards on the floor.

Oh Arceus, she thought. Morai. She heard it all.

Before she had time to take another step, an alarm sounded as the building was intermittently bathed in flashes of red.

"What's going on?" a voice behind her asked.

Sheridan didn't answer. She took off toward the front of the building, following the trail of guards. Morai, meanwhile, had reached the front doors, only to find them locked. No matter how much she threw herself at them, they didn't budge.

"Come on!" she yelled amidst the chaotic sounds. The prisoner finally gave it up and continued to run, desperately searching for an exit when one finally presented itself to her. She looked up at the beautiful stained-glass window, depicting a Ho-Oh rising from its flames of resurrection.

"Rise again like a Ho-Oh," Olympia had said. "Or fade into dreams."

Morai grabbed the nearby pot of roses and threw it through the window. She dove through, cutting herself on the glass. She knew the journey that lied ahead of her. The courtyard spanning who knows how many yards or even miles. Still, she ran as fast as she could, cold air stinging her nose and throat as her prison-issuesd boots pounded against the dead grass and cracking dirt. Her heartbeat sounded like drums, drowning out all other noise. Morai didn't look around. She couldn't afford it. If she were to look and see her pursuers gaining on her, the ones who were going to disregard her little humanity to use her as a weapon instead, it would shatter her fantasy of escape. It felt like a dream. She couldn't feel her feet anymore, and the sound of her own heartbeats faded away into one continuous ring. Morai tasted metal in her mouth. She was pushing herself past her threshold, causing her red blood vessels to pop and release small amounts of iron. She could stop once she reached the end, waking up from whatever nightmare this seemed to be.

Freedom, she thought. Do I deserve it? Probably not. I didn't deserve much of what I took, but that never stopped me. It only pushed me to become worthy of taking. What would make me worthy of freedom? What does freedom even look like, anymore?

Morai's tunnel vision caused her to trip on a rock and nearly twist her ankle, but she didn't feel the pain. She simply got up again and kept going. She didn't notice the remnants of the beautifully designed courtyard and gardens. Going around the nearly empty pond would take more time, so she simply went through it. She finally reached the end to find trees on the other side of barbwire fence. She was wondering when she'd encounter one, since all prisons seemed to have them. Having claws came in handy as she scaled it, but once she reached the top, it took one look to realize that it was barbwire's much eviler and sharper cousin, razor wire. Gritting her teeth, she braved it anyway, throwing herself over to miss as much as she could. Her hand wraps helped, but tore, hanging off her arms like a mummy's wrappings in cartoons she watched as a kid. The woods on the other side of the fence seemed to go on forever. The challenge didn't deter her, but it slowed her down considerably, though she still ran as fast as she could, pushing her body far past its limit through the darkness in hopes of beating her grim odds.

I didn't say goodbye to Maria. I didn't even think about it. Will she be mad at me?

The prison had recently been lucky enough to receive a fancy new car, just in case of events like this. It had to be flown in, but it was about to make itself worth it. Sheridan and Pollie got in the front while another guard jumped in the back, leaving space for one more person.

"She made it into the woods," Pollie said as the warden floored it. She was tapping her foot nervously from the passenger side, looking at her phone as the dot moved further and further along. "Even I hardly know what's over there."

It didn't take long for them to reach the spot Morai had nearly killed herself getting to on foot, evidenced by the long trail of blood from her cuts and scrapes.

"Don't shoot unless you have to," Sheridan ordered. "She's probably not in good shape already. There's a small ravine up ahead, and I think she's going to try and jump it. It's possible, but not likely in her state. Miles, you go around it and get to the other side before she does in case she falls. Pollie, you go to the side, but stay behind me a small ways. I'm going to talk to her alone."

Pollie nearly questioned her before deciding against it. The warden pulled out her phone, heading straight for the dot blinking on the map until she could see the figure standing eerily still a ways ahead. Morai had reached the ravine. Sheridan was right. With the best of luck, it was clearable, but Morai didn't think luck was on her side. She wasn't going to let it stop her either, but she needed a moment to prepare herself.

"I'm getting out of here or dying trying," she hoarsely whispered to herself. "I'd rather be found here, lying at the bottom, than living on in captivity. Shadow Morai, give me—"

Sheridan had tried to sneak up and grab her, but she had her Foresight ready. Instead, she moved out of the way and grabbed the warden instead, pushing her until she was nearly hanging off of the edge.

"Morai, you need to stop this," she gasped, stretching her legs out to maintain as much footing as she could manage. Morai chuckled, barely any substance left to her voice.

"Even now, when I'm threatening you with death, you still feel the need to boss me around," she said. The most unsettling part to Sheridan was that Morai was barely conscious and self-aware. Morai's grip could slip without her meaning it to, sending the warden falling to her death. Even worse, she could lose consciousness at any moment, sending them both over the edge. She gripped Morai's outstretched arm as tightly as she could, adrenaline making her grip even tighter.

"We can talk," she said. "You need medical attention. You'll lose too much blood before making it much farther. Escaping entirely is possible. Trust me on this."

"Trust you?" Morai snapped, moving forward a little more. "Why would I trust you? You lied to me."

"I can explain what you heard," the warden replied. "I want to help you, Morai. That's all I wanted. I failed you just like I failed Yvette, but I want to fix it. I can put their decision on hold. I can get more time."

"More time for what? I've worn masks all my life, but I was finally free until I came here. Do you want me to put another one on to appease you and everyone else?"

"The life you had wasn't good for anyone," Sheridan answered. "That serum wasn't good for you. Here, you were so close to rediscovering the value of connection instead of constant violence, giving instead of taking. It's not weak to show restraint. No one thinks less of you for being peaceful. You need peace to live. You have to stop running away from humanity because it scares you. Not everyone is out to get you, Morai. There are people who care. There's someone who loves you."

The warden slowly reached into her pocket to retrieve the music box Maria had given her, flipping the top open to play the song Morai had written. Morai considered the warden for what felt like an eternity to her as she was nearly dangling over the edge. With a grunt, she was pulled violently back onto solid ground, the music box taken from her hand. The fugitive push kicked her away before taking a quick running start and launching herself from the edge with as much strength as she could muster. She came just shy of the edge, managing to grab onto it instead of falling to her death. Her claws dug into the cold hard earth as she groaned in pain. With a roar of exhausted exertion, she lifted herself up enough to climb up onto the safe ground. Miles the guard had just arrived, taking advantage of her small break to try and apprehend her.

"No!" Morai roared, clawing at the man. She fought to do as much damage and cause as much pain as possible, getting close enough to grab hold of his head with her bloody hands and knee him in the groin and ribs before letting him drop to the ground. She continued to run, only her steps became heavy and slow, like running in a dream. Still, she pushed on, even when she was hunched over and moving at a snail's pace.

"No," she whispered. "No, not now. Please." Reduced to a crawl, she kept telling herself to keep moving. She barely felt Pollie come up on her and kneel on her back. "No," she continued to whisper, begging some unknown entity for just a little more adrenaline.

When the fugitive awoke, she was propped up against a tree. Her ankle had been cuffed to a thick root sticking out of the ground, her arms being urgently tended to by Pollie.

"No," she continued to whisper in her barely conscious stupor. What she had eaten of her dinner earlier came back up. Sheridan, who had been sitting beside her, pushed a bottle of water to her mouth, but she moved her head away. "Morai, you idiot," she said to herself, not acknowledging anyone else's existence. She didn't seem to, at least, until her hand shot up and closed itself on Pollie's throat. Morai didn't recognize who she was attacking, but she had the intent to kill if it meant saving her own life—her own freedom, rather. Her hand was eventually plied away by Sheridan and Pollie finger by finger.

"Let me die in dignity," she hoarsely pleaded, "rather than making me live on like this. Give me this, at least. Please."

When their behavior didn't change, the fugitive grew even more enraged.

"...I hate you all," she spat.

When she looked at her two captors again, she didn't see the faces of the warden and guard. She saw Light and Shadow Morai instead.

"Y-you came back," she muttered. Sheridan and Pollie looked at each other in confusion. "It's n-nice to see you again. Have you come to take me home with you?"

The next time Morai opened her eyes, she found herself in the Realm of Dreams, lying on the ground and looking up blankly at the sky.

"You're slipping in and out of awareness," Past Morai explained. "You're not doing very well, Morai."

"I saw them," Morai whispered. "They came to take me away. Where are they? Am I there?"

"...No," Past Morai answered solemnly, guessing who her counterpart was speaking about. "They're not here."

"But...they were just here!" Morai groaned in frustration, trying to get up. "They were rescuing me from that terrible place. I want to go wherever they went. I can't go back."

Past Morai knelt down beside her, putting her hand on Morai's. Morai looked the same as she did in the real world, all battered and bloody.

"Yes you can," she whispered. "You're strong."

Reality shifted around them as Past Morai took them back to a memory, propping her counterpart up to see what was going on.

"Have you considered extending the hot chocolate serving window at the Battle Subway?" Morai asked, dipping her complimentary candy cane in the drink before taking a sip. "I think November and December is too little time, don't you?"

The Morai in this memory wasn't Morai. It was the long-lost person who had existed before she had gotten her psychic abilities. Morai scrunched her nose up at the almost stranger, who was wildly different than she was now. Still, she felt the warmth of collective holiday cheer in the station. Everyone was bundled up as they waited for a cup of hot cocoa, some of the best in Unova, only served two months out of the year at the Battle Subway. Wreaths and garlands had been strung along the high walls and metal beams, and each Depot Agent wore a pin of some kind on their lapel. Uniformity was valued at the Battle Subway, but this was each trainer's chance to express whether they were a tiny wreath person or whether they preferred candy canes.

"We'll certainly consider it," the Subway Bosses answered in unison. They all were boarding the train to Anville.

"How many kids do you have to disappoint every year explaining that you don't run The Polar Express?" the trainer asked.

"Well, it's simply a different department!" Emmet said with a smile, leaning back in his seat. "We know the fellow who's in charge of it, and he does an awfully fine job. He takes care of Christmas Eve night while we cover the rest of the year."

"Ah, I see," she said.

"If they're extra good, we'll put in a good word," Ingo added. The group shared a laugh as they indulged in their cups of hot cocoa. The young Morai had already eaten the marshmallows out of hers. The atmosphere was warm and comforting, which is why Past Morai had chosen it.

When Morai awoke again, she was in the back of a car as it raced back to the cathedral prison. Her wrists, despite being injured, had been handcuffed in front of her. She groggily reached inside of her pocket to retrieve the pocket watch Ingo had given her. It was a bit scuffed on the outside, but it appeared to be in tact. Her vision was too blurry to read the time. The reality of her situation seemed to hit her randomly, as she looked back and saw the area she was just in getting smaller and smaller.

"No!" she screamed.

"Morai, it's alright," Pollie assured her, putting a hand on her knee. Morai didn't care. She continued to thrash around, trying desperately to tear herself from an inescapable situation that she was barely aware of. She twisted around in her seat, kicking furiously at the windows.

"Morai!" Pollie shouted, before realizing that it wasn't the right approach. She turned her back around and tried to hold her there while avoiding the desperate attempts to bite her hands.

"You're hurt bad," she calmly explained. "And you're making it worse. You don't feel it now, but you will." As Morai struggled, tears formed in her eyes. Sheridan and Miles were in the front, separated from the back by a screen. Sheridan was the only one who ended up mostly unharmed, and she was speeding along the humble road they had formed at the prison's conception.

"Take me home," Morai whispered, lying limply across the seats. She had ended up with her head up against Pollie's leg while one of her own legs hung off the side of the seats. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but she didn't seem to notice. "Take me back to them," she said. "Let them take me." Flashes of red colored her eyes, but she couldn't muster the energy necessary to do anything.

Pollie looked at Morai as consciousness slipped from her grasp again. A tinge of doubt formed in her mind. Maybe she should have let her run until she died. It did seem more dignifying than watching her beg and cry, only to be taken back to captivity and treated like a monster, but the guard knew that she wouldn't have made it anywhere near freedom. Morai didn't know what lied on the edge of the property, an insurmountable obstacle she couldn't get past alone. Still, perhaps she could've briefly held freedom in her hands. Her death would've been a result of a path she chose directly, one that would've ended as she fought to break free of the chains that had been put around her. A fighter's death in solitude, surrounded by nothing but nature and the makings of her own mind. It would've been an end befitting of Morai, much more than what awaited her back at prison. If she was going to die anyway, perhaps she should've done so on her terms instead of being forced to pass in chains.

"I'm sorry, Morai," Pollie whispered, moving her head so that it rested on top of her leg instead of squished up against it.

When Morai awoke again, she could feel the cool leather fastened around her wrists and ankles that had come to stick to her skin as it warmed. Something had been put on her head in front of her mouth. She coughed before glancing around at the blurry room, seeing nothing but the blobby shape of what seemed to be a guard. She could feel the figure's eyes on her, but she simply sighed and rested her head back onto the thin pillow as she closed her eyes. She didn't care anymore.

"Perhaps it would be best to...postpone the plan," Sheridan said to one of the men from the discussion earlier, the leader of the group, as they watched Morai through the small window in the door. "Until she's in better condition. Not only did this take her body far beyond its limit, I believe it took from her mind as well."

The man looked at her with raised eyebrows, knowing that the warden had wanted more time in the first place. Still, he couldn't deny Morai's state.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he said with a sigh. "I'm keeping a few of my men here to keep watch and notify me when she is recovered. The plan will begin then. I trust you can at least keep control of her for that long."

"Of course," Sheridan said with a frown.