Author's Note: It's not Black history month anymore but this chapter title pays homage to Marilynn Jefferson's book of the same title about the lives of the enslaved Edwin Jefferson and his descendants. Not because of any parallels (though I suppose Mewtwo and N may disagree with me on that point), but because it's just a really good book. A quick but poignant read for anyone interested in the history of disenfranchised and oppressed populations. I wouldn't be much of an archaeologist and historian if I didn't give it a shout out when making the reference.

Also the developments here I hope have been foreshadowed quite enough from literally musings in the first chapter that this isn't a surprise. It'll be a long road though.

Chapter 21: From Whence We Came

Ozma had a problem. More correctly, a few problems stemming from one set of related facts. She was young, inexperienced in battle, and not particularly powerful.

She's just like me, I reflected as I struggled to regain my strength, balance, and footing. She has vague dream-like memories of who she was before I awoke her, repaired her. She's nowhere near strong enough to face Mewtwo!

I slammed one fist into the stone floor, trying desperately to stand, to help, to do anything.

Cleo and Estella had joined in, on the defensive.

Bonemerangs intercepted Shadow Balls, being useless as a direct attack against Mewtwo's telekinetic prowess; and Ice Beams consistently forced psychic barriers up to keep his focus split.

Ozma herself was alternating between reflective Mirror Shots and the more powerful elemental Tri-Attacks, and yet it was to no avail. She was constantly having to move back to the defensive and renew her Light Screens to protect from Psychic attacks and Shadow Balls that pushed past Estella's bone.

There were worse ways this could be going, I groggily reminded myself as I struggled, but at this rate Mewtwo was going to-I heard the whirring of something opening up above us.

Yep, here come the weird evil pokeballs, I needed to move!

Just as I had that thought, Ozma released her version of Heal Bell, the chiming sound filled everyone around her with vigor and shook us out of our stupors, imposed or otherwise.

That didn't heal my bruised body, but it did clear my mind of the fog that had left me seemingly paralyzed.

Something in me resonated with the fae energies of that Heal Bell and I felt my connection with my pokemon stronger than ever. Cleo was channeling up for a massive Earth Power to try and fling part of the floor at Mewtwo and Estella was still playing defense with her Bone Club.

There was something there, at the edge of my senses, teasing me, something I'd felt before.

But where? Where had I felt this-The Underworld. I'd felt the sharp edges of this there underneath the pressure of that monster in the depths. And in the Desert Resort during my dream.

I reached out for that feeling. It was inside of me and external to me simultaneously. It was…my affinities. Suddenly I was connected to the rock of the island. The marble of the floor. The sand of the beachheads Mewtwo had not terraformed. The metal in the chairs.

And with a wrenching mental fist I pulled as much of it into myself for strength as possible.

Pulsing with the strength of earth and metal I stood, finally taking in the full breadth of the ballroom battle, it was not in fact isolated to just myself and my team.

The other trainers were fighting off the evil pokeballs and the clone venusaur and blastoise who had joined the fray.

Ash had Dragonair and Pidgeot whipping up Tailwinds and Twisters to deflect the swarms of evil pokeballs, with the pidgeot of one of the other trainers joining in as well.

Thinking much more slowly than normally, punch drunk as I was, I eventually landed my left hand onto the correct pokeball and released Shahrazad, "Alright girl, we're in a bit of a mess, I need you to…" I struggled for my typical strategic over-explaining I used during training and then just gave up, "Sandstorm and Buzz him."

She nodded grimly, understanding the situation and took off, green wings flickering and blurring as she surged forth, quickly whipping up a cloud of sand that began to whirl around the field where my pokemon were fighting.

"Bah!" I heard Mewtwo call out in all our heads, "These base tricks will not save you. I can still sense where all of you are!"

Which is fair, but not actually the point of my strategy here. Sure Mewtwo could still attack, and use his barriers to defend, but hopefully he wouldn't be able to see exactly what types of attack were coming his way.

Then a horrible racket and a burst of green light broke through the blurriness of the Sandstorm and Mewtwo shot out the other side, clearly having taken a solid hit from Shahrazad's Bug Buzz. A super-effective hit that hopefully would rattle his focus. Even just a little could turn the tide here.

"Enough!" Mewtwo's psychic scream assaulted their minds as he let loose a rippling purple wave of psionic energies. Blasting away the Sandstorm and all of my pokemon.

I returned Cleo, that hit had been too super-effective for my liking. Shahrazad and Ozma linked up in front of me, and Estella was off to the side, leaning on her bone club heavily. I'd have to return her next.

I called out Artagnan, my final strong super-effective counter to Mewtwo. Not that that had worked out well so far. Luckily Ozma's compact form hadn't been a real registered pokeball, so I'd been able to bring everyone I might need, along with Hannibal to fly in.

"Kleavor!" Artagnan gestured menacingly with his axes, one glowing a sickly green with X-Scissor and the other glowing with the blackish energy of Night Slash.

"How are you still standing? You vile pathetic human!" Mewtwo's psychic yell assaulted our minds once more.

"I…I didn't hear no bell," I slurred out. In retrospect I think I had a concussion here.

Mewtwo's roar of rage and frustration was almost worth the instant migraine.

I can be pretty petty when I wanted to. He formed an absolutely giant Shadow Ball and sent it spinning towards all of us.

But my pokemon had it. Ozma threw up the Light Screen to slow it down, allowing Shahrazad to hit it with a Dragonbreath to slow it further.

Then Artagnan lined up his shot with a Sword's Dance that powered him up enough to leap forward and slice through the weakened orb.

"I am done playing this game."

Uh oh, that didn't sound-

The whirring screech and orange glow of a Hyper Beam began generating between Mewtwo's two hands held near each other.

"Everyone, move!" I called out as we attempted to scatter.

But it was to no avail, the destructive beam lanced out and-shattered on the strongest Protect barrier I had ever seen. It glowed so brightly white that it was opaque.

As both the attack and the barrier faded, a surprise of timing if not existence was revealed for me.

Mew. The New Species Pokemon. The original mythical pokemon.

"Mew mew mew!" It called out in its own language, with a tone I would consider…indignant? Confused and slightly angry?

After…chastising? Sure, after chastising Mewtwo, Mew bounced over in the air to Ozma and…booped her on the head with its tail almost affectionately. This was…well Mew even in my visions and dreams had been odd but it was more odd in person.

"Father, she says she will talk to Mewtwo and sort things out for us? I…I trust this one for some reason. I think she knew me before? In the before times where it's all hazy for me. She said she was glad to see me awake again?" Ozma seemed very confused by the entire exchange, which made perfect sense. Because I was confused as well.

I just hoped my attempt to open things up with negotiations and my bet had perhaps softened Mewtwo to the idea of working together and backing off of his plan for…world domination? His end goal was kind of unclear. Like he definitely had planned some kind of N style revolution originally but his structured plan didn't seem to really support that end goal.

Then again he was what, a year old? If you considered his tank as an incubator at least. I'd cut him some slack.

While Mew and Mewtwo argued back and forth, Mewtwo no longer projecting for all of us to hear, I sneakily returned Estella and had my other pokemon gather around. I pulled out a Revive for Mr. Darcy and-even while distracted by Mew a purple-blue glow surrounded and crushed it, I turned and saw Mewtwo glare at me.

I shrugged as if to project, "Can't blame me for trying,".

It was nice to know, however, that Mewtwo didn't want to do a round two of that fight. Boosted my confidence a little.

The good news, in spite of my recovery attempt being stymied, was that during his conversation with Mew, Mewtwo had temporarily called off the attack of the black pokeballs. They hovered menacingly above the area and the assembled trainers kept wary eyes upon them. But, they did not continue their assault. Only a few pokemon had been taken already, with most of the remaining pokemon having organized better than in my visions under their trainers.

I palmed Hannibal's Dusk Ball, wondering if I should bring him out if negotiations broke down. His empowered Crunch attack would be pretty brutal against Mewtwo and his barriers, but even with the high ceiling it was just a little too cramped in here for me to feel safe with his maneuvering room.

After a heated five or so minutes of psychic arguments the two legendary pokemon broke apart. Mewtwo floating down towards his…speaking dias? I wasn't sure what to call that, what with him not really speaking out loud and thus not needing the acoustics that location provided.

Mew however, floated over to Ash and began chattering happily at Pikachu.

"Huh," I blinked in confusion right along with Pikachu, "You think Mew knows Pikachu from somewhere?" I asked Estella, who had come over to my side during the breather we'd gotten.

The marowak shrugged her shoulders, not looking too invested in the idea to begin with.

That's when Mewtwo, having taken a contemplative pose, projected into our minds again.

"My…relative, let's say, has pointed out to me that as a whole this group of…trainers and pokemon has risen to my every challenge." The word trainers had a psychic…tone? Flavor? A psychic impression of distaste.

"Thus, I will tentatively accept your offer. Should this…Pokemon League impress me in their handling of my former tormentor, I will consider a…reevaluation of my opinions. Should they find themselves lacking, I can always resume my…what did you call it? Crusade? Amusing term, perhaps even accurate."

I froze, I'd only ever thought of that term, never spoken it outright to Mewtwo. That was chilling.

I could tell that this next portion was sent only to me, "Indeed, Isaac, of both Drake and Beech, your mind is puzzling. And the visions you hold are a substantial reason why I am even considering this…arrangement."

Well pardon my Kalosian but I wasn't sure if I wasn't in a pile of shit if Mewtwo had seen even a fraction of that.

"And as a show of good faith," He gestured and about a baker's dozen black pokeballs soared back from the tubes they had escaped down and released the pokemon they had captured back to their trainers.

It was then that Brock voiced the thought that I am assuming preoccupied most of our minds, "So…now what? Are we good to go?"

Mewtwo waved that off, "Nonsense, the storm is still running its course. Instead of the cells I suppose you can all stay in the guest wing tonight."

This felt…awkward.

Mew giggled, it seemed as if she agreed with me, and in fact delighted in that.