August 7th, First Year

Metal chains dragged in the dirt. Clouds, dark with an oncoming storm, roiled overhead. Emmet kept his eyes focused on the ground, ignoring the waves of nausea that came and went as the minutes ticked by. He was flush against the pokémon he rode, careful not to grip the thing's neck too roughly as the noble pokémon made its way down a rocky cliff. The beast followed after a dark figure only a few paces ahead and in their scarred hand was the slack of the metal chain reminding Emmet of his place in that grim situation. He was a prisoner. Any attempt to escape would result in his neck getting bruised or worse.

She wouldn't do that. Thunder rumbled. Emmet shivered, his nervous smile persisting as a gust of wind revealed a hidden saber at his captor's left side- a bloody saber. She would do that. She could do that: strangle me to death. As if she could hear him, Burr turned to glance at him, her beady eyes reminding him of a brooding Hydreigon. Of all the ways he could've predicted venturing to Hisui to rescue his brother, this wasn't one of the options he had anticipated. He glanced away to the raging river falls to the north, hoping that his captor would relinquish her venomous gaze and look somewhere else. He had no doubt in his mind that if he acted too rashly, that Burr would keep well on her word and do Arceus-knows-what to him.

For nearly three weeks, the ranger- his former Battle Assistant of all people- had kept him chained up like a decommissioned train in a damp cave somewhere in the Obsidian Fieldlands. He remembered being kidnapped: the sting of Burr's betrayal, cold and intentional, the anger that had been boiling in his gut after Ingo had abandoned him for that other man, the hum of wings far too close for Emmet's comfort, the hard exoskeleton limb across his mouth and the nauseatingly fast drop of the earth from beneath his feet as he was lifted- he was afraid of heights- spirited away to a sinkhole where Burr had been waiting for him.

The first rule of being kidnapped was to never let your captor take you to a second location. It guaranteed something… unpleasant. Emmet had spent much of his young adult life in Nimbasa City where crime used to be rampant. It wasn't nearly as bad as Castelia City to the south anymore, but kidnappings weren't uncommon there either. He had planned on battling his way out, even if he was still growing accustomed to his new pokémon team. He was a Subway Master. He wasn't about to let himself be pushed around by a pokémon ranger that was a whole foot shorter than him and probably didn't know anything about competitive battling.

And he had instantly failed at that the moment his feet touched the ground in that damned sinkhole. One swift Poison Jab from that Croagunk of hers and it was lights out. For three weeks, Burr had left him tied up while she went to collect… things. Strange things. She would forcibly feed him, leave at the first light of dawn, and then come back later after the sun had set, smeared with blood and dust, a look of disgruntled resignation and wrath in her eyes. She would turn that gaze upon him, eyes burning with hatred and then she would feed him again.

She never hit him. Never threatened him with violence or exacted the same upon his pokémon. The ranger had even brought him new things to wear on account of his being "nasty like you've been swimming in the Scarlet Bog." A kimono, socks, strange pants, and even a new bag. They greatly resembled Ingo's but even then, Emmet's clothes were white and red. Not black; white.

Emmet had been expecting Burr to eventually snap. He hoped to relish it when it did happen; to give him a reason to be violent. He always relished the moments where he got to beat up a customer. But the moment never came. The ranger never slept. He had never caught her nodding off on all the times he had tried to wriggle away, no matter how long Emmet tried to hold out for. That creeped him out. She had to sleep at some time. Then, he could escape back to Ingo. Even if he's not the same brother I remember, Emmet recalled harshly.

Emmet could never manage to properly escape, what with Burr's pokémon acting as a lethal wall to stand against. There was the Arcanine that was constantly at his back, ensuring that he couldn't go anywhere without it. Then there was the bastard Croagunk that Burr kept. Emmet hated that thing: he could never just go to sleep peacefully, the little creature always jabbing him in the stomach with a sleep-inducing toxin. Emmet inwardly swore that the first thing he would do when he got back home to Unova would be to ban the Toxicroak lineage from the Battle Subway-

"Pay attention!"

Emmet was brought back to by a sharp jerk on the chain. He nearly fell over Lord Wyrdeer's side, a sharp pair of eyes locking onto his own as a pair of hands steadied him.

"Hold onto Lord Wyrdeer." Burr ordered gruffly. "We're descending a cliff. Try not to slip off and break your neck." She then retreated, haphazardly tossing the slack of the chain to the noble who then grasped it in their mouth. "Woah. Slippery, much." Burr carefully tipped over the edge and began sliding down the cliffside, stirring up loose gravel and silt in her wake. She leapt the final distance and landed cleanly in the river, turning to watch the two of them carefully.

Emmet held on as tight as he could as Lord Wyrdeer took a step back and jumped down the cliff instead. In three quick hops, the noble had pulled up alongside the ranger, the two passing the chain back and forth. No words were exchanged as the two kept moving in an even rhythm. Why even bring me along if I'm not going to do anything?

"How long do you think it'll last?" Burr asked curiously.

…Is she… asking me? "What?" Emmet rasped instead.

"Not you. Wyrdeer."

The great beast remained silent.

After a few moments, Burr scoffed and gave the creature a sarcastic smirk. "Yeah, that's pretty much what I expected. I just don't know why they stay like that once I remove the gears."

"Are you two talking via Psychic?"

"Yes."

Oh. OH. Really? Seriously? Was it just going to be silence for him the entire way there? This was the most boring road trip he'd ever had. "I'm bored. What are you two talking about?"

"Nunya," came Burr's lightning-quick response.

Emmet smirked. "Nunya-business?"

"Shut the fuck up," Burr groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "This doesn't concern you, Emmet. Now can you please just be quiet?"

"You're asking. Is that rhetorical, or-"

"I will gag you again-"

"That's what he said."

The ranger came to a full stop and just… looked at him. She stared at him with a mixture of confusion, anger, and… recognition?

There's no way she just unlocked a core memory from a dirty joke, Emmet mused. And though he greatly disliked the ranger, he found himself looking forward to her reaction.

Her eyes softened, changing from anger to blatant confusion, to awareness. Her lips twitched, and then her face scrunched into the tiniest smile Emmet had ever seen the ranger wear.

Huh. This is the first time I've genuinely been able to see her face clearly… Why can't I remember what she's supposed to look like? Emmet had worked with her in the past. Surely, he must've been able to see her full face. But no. No matter how hard he thought about it, looking at the ranger now, still wrapped in confusion, was just about the first time he had ever seen her clearly.

And then, almost as soon as Emmet had seen it, the smile was gone, replaced with a look of utter disgust. Burr made a long, low sigh and turned back around, mouthing something angrily under her breath. To Emmet's chagrin, the woman fixed her headscarf and then readjusted the black gaiter mask over her face. Wait. Where did the mask come from?

"Alright, Lord Wyrdeer. Time to dismount."

"Dismount?"

"That's right. We've reached our semi-final stop. We walk from here."

Emmet blinked. "You didn't inform me as to where you were taking me." As he was helped off of the pokémon, he noticed that they were no longer near the tumbling river. Instead, they were surrounded by tall pine trees, their branches devoid of needles and their trunks wrapped in creeping ivy and dense fog. The ground underfoot was damp and made a terrible sopping noise with each step that he took. "Where are we?" He ignored how quiet and frail his voice sounded.

"We're right next to Lake Verity. I've got a job to do here so I'm gonna go do that and then we have to move base yet again."

"We?"

Burr barely looked at him as she shared a word with Lord Wyrdeer before the large pokémon galloped off. "Yes, we. I still don't trust you not to snitch to Ingo, so you and me? We're gonna be stuck together until I can find some way to wipe your memories. Once I do, I'll let you run back to Ingo so you two can be happy little train enthusiasts once more."

"I don't want my memories wiped," Emmet gritted through his teeth, "-and Ingo deserves to know what you're doing to him."

"What am I doing?" Burr argued calmly. She turned to face him. "Name one bad thing that resulted from me wiping his memories, bossman. I'll wait."

…Bossman? Despite his disgust with the situation, Emmet found himself smiling nervously again. He wanted to ignore the fact that only Gear Station employees used that moniker around him and his brother. She had never called him that in the past; not even when the other depot agents had nagged her about being too formal around him. When had she picked it up? "It's not morally right," Emmet argued instead, his mouth dry. "And we would all return to the future faster if we worked together."

"No, we wouldn't." Burr's voice practically oozed with irritation as she jerked him along on his chain. "You don't even know the half of what's going on behind the scenes. We all have our parts to play; I'm just doing mine."

"Your part includes being deceitful and antagonizing?"

Burr didn't so much as flinch. Instead, they cocked their head to the side, keeping their eyes focused on some path Emmet couldn't see. "Sounds about right. Like it or not, you don't get to go home if I don't do my job properly. And don't you want to go home?" she drawled. "Don't you want to go back to the future? Isn't that why you came here in the first place? To bring Ingo back with you?"

"…I- Of course I want to return back to my home station. That's my main prerogative. Your presence here is only making that task unnecessarily difficult."

"Boo-hoo. Cry me a river. You wanna go home? Then shut up and walk. I've got places to be and mythical deities to assault. No time for long-winded explanations."

… She's WHAT? "Full stop," Emmet choked, his gums beginning to show in his smile. "You're going to… assault a legendary pokémon… and do what exactly?"

"I'm going to defeat Mesprit, gain Ingo as to how to wipe your memory clean, and then leave. That's why I'm here. You really weren't listening at all during the trip, were you?"

Emmet's smile curled dangerously upwards. Only children and young trainers spoke without the fear of legendary pokémon ingrained into them. Adults often knew better than to tamper with forces they didn't understand. To deliberately go after one of the beings of emotions… Emmet hurried to match Burr's ridiculously long stride, surprised at the tense, anxious look on the ranger's face. Is she scared? "Don't try to gaslight me. You and Lord Wyrdeer were having a private conversation without me the whole ride here."

Burr opened her mouth to speak but then paused. She scratched the back of her head, not quite meeting his eyes. "Shit. You're right. My bad. I forget that you can't hear the other two."

Did she actually just apologize? "Other two? Who?"

Burr waved Emmet away before he could even ask another question. "Don't worry about it. It doesn't concern you." She led him on until they came to the top of a hill where the trees died off. The view would be spectacular if not for the situation Emmet was currently in.

There were fields of rolling golden grasslands before them dropping into a steep cliff which led straight down to the waters of Lake Verity. Emmet was aware that Hisui was actually modern-day Sinnoh, but he had never visited the region despite his lucrative income and unused vacation time. The view before him was near postcard worthy. Just seeing the shimmering lake in front of him made him temporarily forget that Burr was still holding onto the slack of his chain as she pulled him back from the edge.

Despite the atmosphere, the weather broiled and simmered around him. The mountains rose like fangs, encompassing the circular lake like a gaping maw. The waters below churned and slammed against the mountain bowl, almost swallowing the small isle in their midst. At a distance, a pack of Luxrays prowled through the tall grass, some poking their heads up as if anticipating the coming storm.

"We're here."

"Where?" Emmet was given ample time to stop, rubbing fruitlessly at his sore wrists as he took in the clearing before him. Burr walked him slowly through a grassy valley where the wind whistled through stalks of blooming wildflowers, her gait quick and purposeful, shooting Emmet a reproachful glare any time he dared slow down. No sooner had Burr tugged on Emmet's chain again did she slowly lead him over the pebbly shore of Lake Verity, the cold, icy water sloshing against Emmet's brand new boots. "Why have you directed me to this particular station?"

"Because I can't trust you to be a good boy on your own." Burr drew him closer to a tall oran tree, making an intricate knot of chain around the tree's trunk. "You're going to remain here and wait for me to finish Mesprit's task."

Emmet was uncomfortably reminded of just why he didn't trust Burr in the first place. The rift at Lake Valor. He had just barely managed to watch the major distortion form- much like the other ones did in their terrifying glory- but to see her of all people creating them without so much as a care in the world. "You are going to create another space-time distortion? Why? Aren't you causing harm to the environment?"

"It's for a just cause," Burr retorted gruffly. "Don't you worry- you won't be harmed. All you have to do is wait here and do nothing. Do that for me," she drawled, "and I might just consider getting rid of the gag. I know how much you hate it."

"That is an uuunderstatement," Emmet replied lowly. He gave a few test pulls to see what Burr might do if he tried to overpower her. "This is a safety hazard. If the waters of the lake were to rise, there would be a risk of drowning. Maybe consider loosening my restraints."

"Quit pulling."

"Make me."

Burr exhaled through her clenched teeth, her mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "Maybe I would if I had the time." She finished her string of metal chains before tossing the slack into the tree branches. "Don't you worry," she once again simpered. "I'll make sure to pay you back at the cave. Forget taking away the gag; I'll just hang you from the rafters. Now wait here." And when Emmet remained beside the tree, Burr all but sneered at him. "Good boy."

"Don't call me that," Emmet replied, venom lacing every word.

Burr laughed. "Make me." She then turned and made her way to the lake's edge, pulling out the strange pendant from before out of her shirt.

Emmet watched as the ranger's body language changed in the fraction of a second. Burr hunched forward, their eyebrows knitted together as they glanced first at the faraway lake cavern and then at the murky waters of the lake, carefully setting one foot into the water. Shakily, they waded in further, their breath coming out as steam as they held the pendant out in front of them.

He froze. A blinding white crack began to tear open in the space before him, its branches multiplying and spreading quickly like a growing infection. It crept into the rocks- across the clouds and through the trees- forming a dizzyingly large perimeter around Lake Valor, engulfing the entire lake and, concerningly, Emmet as well. He had never been inside of a distortion; he had only ever seen them from afar, too terrified of the supernatural phenomena that had stolen his brother away from him to truly investigate what they were.

Burr turned and gave Emmet one last fleeting look. Her dark face. Her anxious eyes. She turned herself away, disappearing under a veil of fog that began to lift from the dark, dark lake.

All around him, the lake began to change. The needle-covered trees grew in closer, their canopies reaching into the skies. The fog cover expanded and obscured everything within Emmet's reach, making him feel as though a heavy frost had reached into his bones. He dropped to his knees, shimmying close to the oran tree to keep himself grounded.

His peripheral vision began to go blurry. Nausea built in his gut, and he felt as though he needed to vomit. His hands burned. His face burned. He felt too cold and too hot, curling inward against the smooth bark of the tree as he began to hyperventilate. I am inside a distortion. This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I should not be here. His chest felt tight. His hands and fingers began to shake involuntarily. And when he thought his heart might give out and he collapsed against the tree, there was a sturdy, warm hand at his back to pull him gently to the ground.

"Easy, there," came a soft voice. Burr's voice, Emmet knew. "Okay, you're about to faint, aren't you? Great. Just fucking great. Today can't get any worse, can it?" There was a loud sigh, an almost blinding light sparking to life before his closed eyelids. "Alright, you're coming with me."

Unknown Month, Unknown Year

It felt as though days had passed before Emmet had woken up. He still felt cold but he was now enshrouded in something dark and soft. He tried to move, hissing as he realized that he was ensnared by something. The harder he struggled the more and more he began to sink into the dirt.

"Remain Still, Outlander. You Are Safe."

"Get. Me. Out of here," Emmet seethed. He was chained up again! He felt an open pocket in the chains, reaching through until he was sure he could squeeze his head out. With one last push, he was free. It was the best feeling Emmet had felt in a long, long time. "What's going on? Where's-" he went rigid, frantically scanning the foggy forest for a sign of his captor. "Where's Burr?"

The great noble pointed one hoof at the cavern isle where the distortion cracks were at their widest. It was completely dark inside the event horizon. The water did not move and the sparks of ethereal energy flickered in midair as though suspended on a string.

"She's in there?"

"Indeed. She Has Gone To Conquer Mesprit And Steal The Next Ancient Artifact." Lord Wyrdeer turned its massive head to Emmet and snorted. "You Are Safe Here On The Perimeter Where Those Affected By The Distortion Will Not Venture. They Are Too Preoccupied Hunting Your Friend For Sport."

Many, many questions came to mind. She left him behind? Was that a good thing or a bad thing? And what did Wyrdeer mean? The pokémon were hunting Burr for sport? Not that he wouldn't join in if he could. Emmet paused. He no longer had shackles on his wrists. "…I'm free."

"You Are Not," Lord Wyrdeer rumbled with laughter. "Your Freedom Won't Be Granted For Quite Some Time, Outlander. See? Press Along The Distortion."

Emmet did as the noble commanded him, noticing with creeping despair that attempting to fight his way out of the distortion only led him to an impassable solid wall of air and energy. "Why can't I leave?" he growled, enraged.

"The Time Pendant Creates. The Time Pendant Destroys. You Will Remain Until Either The Champion Succeeds Or Dies Trying." In a much quieter note, so soft that Emmet could barely hear the great pokémon, it added, "Foolish Key. I Waste Time Waiting On Them To Return…"

So Emmet couldn't leave without her. Something about a necklace. Burr wasn't wearing a necklace or… Wyrdeer must've been talking about whatever the ranger had hidden beneath her shirt. The same object that Burr had used to wipe Ingo's memory and keep that young boy from ever discovering that he had been kidnapped. Rage burned at his throat as he got to his feet. "I'm going in after her."

At his declaration, the noble threw back its head and laughed a long, dry, mocking laugh that made Emmet want to fight his larger opponent. "You Are Foolish As Well. Are You Even Aware Of The Body You Find Yourself In? You Are In No State To Act."

Emmet turned and regarded the pokémon icily. "I am Emmet and I will get my revenge for being captured now that I am free." He snaked across the pebbly shore, his head beginning to throb as he copied the movement he remembered Burr performing before they were presumably whisked away toward the lake cavern. Somewhere in the seething bubble was his captor and if he needed her to get out of this Arceus-forbidden rift, he'd just go in and grab her himself. Maybe drag her around a little as payback.

Emmet took a calming breath, attempting to soothe his frayed nerves. He was going to walk into a rift. An actual rift, there, right in front of him. Nights he'd spent, entangled in nightmares watching Ingo be pulled through one of those vile things. Sleepless nights, stuck browsing the web, falling down rabbit holes of Ultra Beasts and wormholes in Alola. Fruitless, all of them. And now, he stood directly at the precipice of one.

There was a pressure in his chest like sharp fingers pulling on his ribcage, tugging him forward. He fiddled with his hands, freezing when instead, small leafy hands came into view. Emmet hurriedly glanced away, noting that his breathing was already starting to pick up. Don't panic. Don't panic. Just… get inside and find Burr. She'll know how to get out.

The pressure in his chest grew to a swell, so heavy that Emmet was forced onto his knees again. He blinked, his eyes forced closed, and the moment he opened them again, he shrank back. He stood in front of the gaping cave entrance. In front of the seething miasma. In front of the greater distortion. Without pausing to think, he threw himself forward into the fog.

It was cold. Frighteningly cold. At first, Emmet had been confused. It hadn't been a cave at all. Instead, he was surrounded by a visage of the very same forest he had just come from but with a catch. On the sides of the forest clearings were heavily injured pokémon, some phantom-like as their ripped-apart bodies wavered like mist on a river. Most had unspeakable burn marks along their faces and throats. A fire-type or perhaps a poison-type with some kind of projectile move, Emmet figured. He analyzed. He wanted to keep his mind busy. Wanted to keep his mind from thinking about his surroundings or the predicament that he had found himself in.

Emmet didn't dare look at himself, no matter how much the appendages on his back rustled and how much he wanted to fidget with his crackly hands. He didn't dare look at his passing reflections in muddy puddles, too afraid to see why his reflections always looked so small and green to him. The forest seemed to warp and twist in on itself, sometimes opening up into impossibly large clearings or even entire mountains. He yelled, shouted, and called for his captor. Nobody ever responded. It was unspeakably eerie in this strange place, surrounded by fake, dead pokémon whose twisted eyes stared into oblivion.

Emmet wandered further until he eventually found a trail mark: a scorched pokémon footprint. A new way forward. He followed it with gleeful abandon, eager to see something other than the swirling fog and impossibly tall pine trees. Instead, he was met with darker woods and even foggier clearings.

So Emmet wandered. He rested, the sky always remaining the same stormy shade of gray. There was no passage of night or day; only the comings and goings of rain and sometimes hail. He snapped off branches from the trees. They always disappeared whenever he turned his back on them. He continued shouting for help. Nothing ever answered him. He tried to sleep but sleep never came and he began to question whether those horrible woods would ever end.

And as if to answer him, the woods trembled. The pine trees shook, just barely obscuring a flash of eerie red light. Emmet picked himself up and fought his way through the walls of pine needles. There's action! There's life! There's a way out! He leaped over the limp bodies of the pokémon that came before him, not caring for the old blood seeping onto his legs as he descended another staircase of rotten logs and branches.

The woods cleared out. Emmet grimaced in disgust as he tripped into a pool of standing water and mud. It was cold like the rest of the woods, but it was loud and filled with the scent of blood, heavy and nauseating. Emmet opened his mouth to yell again but paused. The trees were covered in mud.

Something roared as it came thundering out of the pool, rivulets of water cascading down its back and face as it moved, snapping at thin air before it tumbled back. A second creature snarled fury as it held on to the first pokémon. A horrendous, blood-curdling screech filled the woods as the goliath writhed, clawed and tore at its face. It hardly noticed Emmet.

Emmet knew the monster in front of him should be a Goodra, but it was much, much worse than anything he could've expected. He took a step back, dodging the monster's sticky, slimy, bloody tail as it came crashing down into the pool. He scrabbled at the walls of the ravine, pulling himself back onto a grassy ledge as he watched the grisly battle unfold before him. Watched as the strange Goodra with its blood-red eyes and exorbitant size clawed at its face to dislodge whatever smaller pokémon was brutalizing it.

A lizard pokémon. A small lizard pokémon resembling a Charmander, jets of scarlet flames sparking from its tail, clawed at the strange Goodra's eyes, its teeth bared as it wrapped its arms around its opponent's head and squeezed. Almost immediately, the Goodra's skin began to blacken and burn. It shrieked and fought harder, the lizard pokémon managing to evade before resuming its brutal task.

The Goodra threw itself down into the pool and with it, the Charmander as well. Emmet watched horrified. Its tail flame would go out. It would die. Was the Goodra the creature that had been killing everything?

The two pokémon clashed and writhed and struck out at one another beneath the waves. The lizard's tail flame flickered, the water around it boiling before its tail flame withered. All went still and quiet. The Goodra then surged out of the water, rasping and croaking and thrashing in desperation as it attempted to dislodge the Charmander, the tiny lizard's claws still hooked into the great beast's throat.

With one last snarl, the Goodra reached up, grabbed the lizard's tail and threw it down into the dirt with a painful-sounding snap. Blood oozed out of its gouged-out eye, various other weeping wounds leaking blood into the scarlet pool as the Goodra pinned the Charmander by its face into the mud. Its skin sizzled but the goliath paid it no mind. Emmet could only watch as the Goodra raised one outstretched paw, its slimy claws glinting in the pale light, before they came slicing down.

Emmet covered his ears. The lizard's screech was mortifying. Blood-curdling. Something that would haunt his nightmares to come. But what terrified Emmet the most was the fact that he had heard a human scream. A horrible, long, drawn-out, last screech of sheer agony. He could hear the Goodra collapse into the mud, its labored breathing picking up as it thrashed about blindly in the pool. Water splashed. The clearing turned a few degrees cooler. The battle was over.

Only then did Emmet open his eyes. He had never seen a battle so cruel and objectively punishing. He was a Battle Facility Head; not an illegal pokémon fighting ring operator. Emmet had only ever seen trainer-to-trainer battles. Even the sparse documentary that sometimes wound up on his TV never showed wild pokémon fights that were so revolting. So vile. Emmet staggered away from the cliff. He had made a mistake. He should've never entered the rift.

A weak cry echoed in the clearing. The strange Charmander was alone in the arena, its dark blood oozing into the pool as it weakly struggled away from the water. It clawed feebly at an exposed tree root, blood dripping from its nose and mouth. Mud covered its remaining eye; drowned its tail which still burned albeit weakly. Emmet carefully made his way down to the injured creature.

The creature's entire body was littered with tears and nicks from the back of its head to its mangled tail. Old, ugly scars mingled with new, curling ones. Emmet approached, cooing gently as he circled to the pokémon's face. All he could think about was Ingo's Haxorus, likening the injured creature to his beloved co-conductor as the wild pokémon turned its mauled face toward him. It rose, hissing weakly, one clawed hand pushing at its underside as if to fight him off to tend to its wounds. It yelped and collapsed back into the mud, coughing up another mouthful of blood.

Emmet gagged as he finally realized what had happened. The Goodra had managed to disembowel the Charmander and here he stood, watching as the poor creature bled to death in the dirt. A slow and horrible death that he wouldn't wish even upon his worst enemy. He had to throw himself aside as he retched, vomiting into the pool, his face and hands burning from fear and terror. In all his years back in the future, he had never known wild pokémon to act so viciously.

When he had managed to settle his stomach, he turned back to the Charmander. Its flanks heaved and fluttered. The beast was still fighting to live. He dropped down to it, gently cradling its head. If only he had a potion or a full restore. Granted, it wouldn't save the little creature but it would staunch the bleeding until he could get it to a proper pokémon center. And as he waited, the little pokémon twitched. It blinked its mud-filled eye open, baring its teeth at something unseen in the lake.

"Off… get… off!" That was Burr's voice.

The creature coughed, trying to fight its way out of Emmet's grip. "I beat you- hrrgn- fair and- huuh- fair and square."

Emmet's hands shook. He didn't dare look at the Charmander who was taking its last breaths in his grimy hands. It's Burr. "Stay awake," he urged her, knowing that not even he could figure out a way to keep her from bleeding to death in the dirt. "Come on, stay awake Burr. You don't get to die here." Emmet laughed. Chuckled. Anything to keep his mind off the fact that his hands were coated with his captor's blood.

"A Reviver Seed Ought To Do The Trick, But Ah, It's Too High Up For You To Reach, Little One." A quiet voice, calming like a Soothe Bell and as sharp as a needle lingered behind his ears, causing him to stare wildly around the clearing.

"Where are you?" he asked angrily. "What are you? Come out, please! Help me!"

It continued to taunt him. "Oh, I Have No Business With You, Mortal. But Oh, How Entertaining! The Champion Of Time Has Finally Fallen," the voice laughed. "Overzealous Fools Always Meet Their Ends Quickly." It laughed. Giggled, even. "Go On Then. Let Her Die. This Is What You Hoped For, Isn't It?"

Was it? Emmet was angry at the ranger. Rightfully so. But he had never wished death upon anybody. Not even the Team Plasma idiots that had broken into Gear Station and had tried to destroy the tracks leading out of Unova. Did he trap a few in the lines and watch them wander around like idiots for a few days? Absolutely, albeit without Ingo knowing.

But this…? This was crossing a horrible, unspeakable line. He had been safe under Burr's enforced lockdown. Dirty and locked up, but safe. Safe and fed and hidden from the elements. And yes, Emmet hated her. Yes, Emmet wanted nothing to do with the ranger other than to get his revenge, but leaving her here to die in such a terrible way would leave a horrible taste in his mouth.

"How delicious! You're Conflicted! Oh, Come Now, Human. I Can Read Your Emotions Like An Open Book. There Is No Desire You Can Hide From Me. No Secret So Heavily Veiled That Even I Cannot Pierce Through. Go On Then. Do It. Let Them Rot Here In A Grave Of Their Own Making. Wash Your Hands Clean."

And yet Emmet remembered the tired, almost fearful tone that Burr had spoken in when he had figured out what she was up to. He glanced at her and at the steadily growing pool of blood around her. His eyes widened.

"Kill Her," the entity whispered alluringly into Emmet's ears. "You Have A New Body- New Powers. It Would Be So Easy To… Perhaps Pick Them Up And Drop Them Into The Pond. Let Them Drown, Perhaps?"

"No! Stop! Stop talking!" Emmet grimaced.

"Don't You Want Revenge?" The voice egged him on. "Don't You Want Payback?"

No matter how hard Emmet tried to force the disembodied creature out of his head, it wouldn't budge.

"Don't You Want To Let Her Suffer?" The creature, too deft for Emmet to see, nestled on the back of his head, its voice like nails on a chalkboard as it continued to mock him. "Time Does Not Pass Here. You Can Let Her Suffer Forever. Let Her Bleed For Her Betrayal. For What She Has Done To Your Brother. You Could Enact Your Revenge For Being Captured." It leaned in closer, its breath cold on his ear. "Nobody Would Ever Know."

Emmet lashed out in a blind rage, a grassy whip snapping at his back. When it struck nothing, Emmet lashed out again, at anything he could think of until he was sure the creature wasn't still attached to him. He focused on the large canvas bag hanging from a tree- Burr's bag- and with one good hit- shook the tree until the bag yielded. It slammed into the mud next to him, spilling its contents into the dirt.

There were all kinds of items within. Strange things that looked like translucent beans, pearlescent orbs, sashes of colorful silks and clothes, assortments of berries, and what was the most important to him- a pouch of seeds. The voice had mentioned a Reviver Seed. He grabbed at the pouch, nearly tearing it open in his blistering panic. He didn't debate what kind he would need. He forced upon Burr's mouth and scooped in a generous handful, using his other leafy hand to simulate chewing until he could force Burr into swallowing the mashed-up seeds. For a long moment, there was barely any movement.

"Emmet?" Burr gagged, growling softly as she sank deeper into the mud. She blinked one eye open at him and stared, placing one blood-covered hand on his arm. "Wait… for me…to come back. Understand?"

Even now, Emmet couldn't help but grimace. She was still giving him orders even when about to die. Despite it, Emmet nodded. The ranger was calm even as she lay bleeding in the mud. "I… I will wait."

Burr chuckled, flinching. "...Good boy." Her sides heaved and heaved and heaved until… silence. The heavy pokémon in his arms grew still. Frighteningly still. Emmet heard no agonal breathing. No squelching of claws tearing through the mud. No labored sniffling or croaks of pain. There was only silence. Their tail flame sputtered out entirely, a horrible smoke wafting into the fog. The warmth of Burr's corpse against his own was snuffed out like a doused flame.

"Too Bad I Was Lying." The creature came back, this time right under his jaw, unseeable and yet unspeakably frightening. "Sleep Seeds. An Interesting Choice. Not The End I Was Predicting, But It Is Fitting Nonetheless-"

Emmet had grabbed the creature with one whip and dragged it into the mud. Brought into the light, he recognized it as one of the fabled Lake Guardians; a pokémon that was banned from the Battle Subway. One's whose fae-like appearance he had memorized. "You lied to me." His voice was cold. Monotonous. Hollow. "You knew she was going to die here."

"Of Course I Did!" The creature only barely blipped into his vision before it was out again, its thin shape doing a bizarre dance over the still waters of the pool. "I Am Mesprit, The Guardian Of Lake Verity. The Being Of Emotion." It moved to hover over Burr's lifeless body; Emmet blocked its way. "What A Shame. Such A Powerful Vessel Of Purpose And Wrath! I Can See Now Why Dialga Was So Keen On Pulling Out Its Favorite Old Toy Again. What A Good Show! There Is Nothing Quite So Entertaining Than A Mortal Marching Toward Their Own Demise! Utterly Charming." Mesprit turned its lazy gaze to Emmet next, its golden eyes glowing like lighting as it trapped him in its gaze. "You Could Be The Next Champion-"

"Never."

"I See A Great Potential For Power Within You-"

"Stop talking."

"Filled With Jealousy And A Similar Wrath Like Your Predecessor. Ah, And Such An Indomitable Spirit."

Emmet's patience withered. He lashed out at the deity, his teeth bared as he aimed for anything he could reach. "I won't kill her and I won't be your toy engine either. Depart this station immediately."

Mesprit only laughed. "How Cute! You Believe You Can Strike This Corporeal Form Of Mine." It once again paralyzed him with its gaze, one of its tails stroking his chin as though he were a small Purrloin. "So Charming, You Humans." It reached out with its psychic power and pulled Burr's corpse toward it, holding it aloft like a puppet on string.

"You're sick," Emmet seethed.

"Oh, Calm Down," Mesprit laughed. It laid Burr's body back on the ground, hovering playfully over the lizard's body. "I Was Only Joking. I Only Jest. I Lied. Watch. Dialga's Favorite Toy Can Always Be Reconstructed."

At its words, Burr's corpse seized. Its tail flame rippled to life, a weak scarlet light washing over the still pool. She hacked up a mouthful of blood and breathed, desperately trying to take in air. Emmet was at her side in an instant, trying to wipe the mud from her eyes and mouth.

"You Never Fail To Impress, Champion Of Time," Mesprit cooed. It drifted over Burr's bloody form, laying its tail gingerly over her head. "Very Well. Take Your Prize. You've Passed My Trial." It fixed Emmet with an impressed gaze. "Both Of You." The creature dove into the pool without so much as a splash. Out of the muddy water rose a glowing teal object- a gear- engraved with glowing red runes and symbols. It floated, ticking like a clock as it sat on the water.

Burr began to crawl toward it, still sightless, still bleeding, her outstretched claws grasping at nothing. Emmet breached the distance and snatched up the gear, glaring at the spot where Mesprit pokémon had disappeared. Black talons reached again for the time gear, most chipped down to the quick.

"That's… mine. I earned that," Burr slurred drunkenly.

"You… Sit down," Emmet grunted. He lifted her arm over his shoulder, supporting her dead weight as he dragged her back to the ravine wall. In his new form, Emmet could only manage to drag her a few inches at a time. "Please just… just sit."

"Emmet. The gear-"

"I have it." Emmet dug through the bag, scouring the smaller pockets until he found a handful of oran berries. "Here. Eat them. Eat them all." He grasped at her hands and dumped the berries in. "Just stop talking. Please stop talking."

Burr made another halfhearted reach for the gear. Emmet tossed it up onto the ledge far above. "Mesprit!" he called. "How do we depart from this station?" When no response came, he shut his eyes and sat down alongside his former captor.

All he could do was think while Burr chewed the berries slowly. Mesprit had called Burr the champion of time. Burr was making distortions. She was stopping time. She was- Emmet focused on the distortion around them. The guardians were willingly letting her take them for the sake of her own health. She was-

"Fixing Time, As Lord Dialga Intends," Mesprit whispered helpfully into his ear. When Emmet turned to look, the deity was nowhere in sight.

"I get it," he laughed. "I finally get it! Why you won't tell us anything!" he chuckled. If this was what Burr's secret was, he wished he had never found out. Burr wasn't destroying time; she was fixing it. Pausing the worst regions. The strange gears- like Ingo's papers- she was collecting them for something; something that Emmet intended on figuring out, one way or another.

"Emmet. Across the pond." Burr coughed, pointing with a destroyed claw to where the woods dimmed to a black point. "Finished," she rasped. "Done. We can- the gear- we can go now." She coughed, loud and wet, into the mud. "You… Go… go without me."

"No. We are coupled together. We are both departing from this station at the same time.." Emmet was conflicted. He didn't like helping her, especially not after the long period of being imprisoned based on a whim that Ememt would tell Ingo and inevitably cause some dire change to happen. But he held his tongue. What he wanted most was answers and the best way to get those answers was to cooperate and needle the truth out of her. "Up. Onto my back. I'll carry you out."

Burr weakly pushed him away, laughing. "Not… strong enough. I'm too heavy. Rift will close- hhnnn- when I- when I touch the gear."

"Is it possible?"

"To escape?…Yes."

"Then I'm doing it." He carefully lifted his scaly captor onto his back, wrapping a few tough vines around her to secure her against him before taking a step forward. Burr had been right; she was much heavier than he was. But Emmet had a plan; a desperate plan but a plan nevertheless. He hurried over to Burr's bag, scanning the pokéballs at her belt. His were bound to be among the group. "Which one has the Yanmega?"

"… Heavy Ball."

Emmet snagged the ball and quickly released the pokémon inside. He wasted no time with pleasantries. "I am Emmet. Please get ready to fly. Your trainer is depending on us."

The huge Yanmega regarded him as though he were a particularly nasty bug before its many eyes landed on its wounded trainer. Without a word, it hauled the two onto its back, lifting them into the air. Emmet reached back and grasped Burr's hand, touching one of her claws to the gear. The land turned gray and dreadful. Time seemed to freeze. The Yanmega thundered forward across the pond the way Emmet had come, the land falling apart behind them as the rift began to collapse. The race had begun.

August 7th, First Year

Emmet gasped. He pushed through the barrier to the space time distortion and into the real world, dragging Burr along as the glossy bubble swelled and trembled under its own growing weight. No sooner did Burr's Yanmega glide through did the bubble solidify and become semi-opaque. Within, time had come to a permanent standstill.

As they crossed, Emmet could feel the binds of his pokémon form disappear. With his former strength, he easily lifted Burr up into his arms and walked her toward where Lord Wyrdeer had been waiting. The lord was still there upon Emmet's return, despite the pouring rain now soaking the clearing.

"The Champion Was Successful," the great pokémon rumbled, rising to meet them. "You Have Another Time Gear-"

"She nearly died!" Emmet spat back. "How fast can you escort us to The Diamond Heath? She needs urgent medical attention!"

Wyrdeer dragged a hoof in the dirt. "Three hours."

"That's too slow!" Emmet snarled. He carefully set her down in the grass, again having to force his gaze away not to gag.

The ranger's clothes were torn to shreds, clear bubbling wounds festering under the sticky fabric. There were bright angry bruises peppering her arms and legs and- eerily- around her throat. Her arm hung limp at an odd angle from the joint and the flesh around her right leg had been mangled. He gagged.

"Oi! Look! It's Lord Wyrdeer!"

Emmet paused. The noble quickly stepped in front of him as a cluster of cerulean-clad people emerged from the treeline. He gasped. Emmet rose to his feet and yelled as loud as he could to the Diamond Clan members who were, at his call, quickly approaching. He glanced down at the unconscious ranger tangled in the tree roots, a pang of regret settling in his bones. He was free… but at what cost?