Nobody knows the truth. Nobody believes in her.

Charles kept repeating the words in his mind as he made his way through the metropolis that was Rusboro City. In the sky, he could see the Devon Corporation Tower. Charles stopped on the edge of the sidewalk. Cars honked and raced down the street in the afternoon as he waited for the walking signal to turn white. As soon as it did, he trudged across the street.

I'm the only one she has. No one will stop me. Not Walter. Not Janice. No one.

A police Rotom raced ahead of him, flying off towards a wide, sandstone building.

RUSTBORO POLICE STATION read above the revolving door that led into it. Charles pulled out his PokeNav, and 1:40 was the time displayed on it.

I still have time until father gets here.

Charles hurried through the door, and his ears were greeted with the sounds of ringing phones, shuffling papers, and walkie-talkies. Charles waved his hand at the female police officer behind the lobby desk.

"Hey Charles!" the woman waved back. "Are you looking for Walter? I don't think the captain will be in until 2 o'clock or so."

"I know. I was just going to wait for him in his office."

"Sounds good, buddy." she smiled before returning to her work.

Charles walked past the uniforms until he reached an office enclosed by frosted-glass windows. The name Walter Lockwood was printed on the front of the door.

However, Charles skipped the door and hurried towards a set of stairs just towards the end of the room.

Almost there. A sweat had trickled down Charles' forehead.

"Charles," a voice called from behind him, and Charles froze. He turned to see a man wearing a black pair of shield-styled sunglasses jogging up to him. The officer pushed a hand through his sandy blond hair.

"H-hey, Ryker," Charles greeted him with a voice pitched as high as his elevated heart rate.

"Aren't you back a lil' early," Ryker dropped his shades a bit, revealing his emerald-green eyes. "So, can I… see it?"

"Oh." Charles smiled awkwardly before pulling out his badge case and showing Ryker his newly-gained Stone Badge.

"Well, hang me upside down and call me a Wormadam, that there's one shiny badge!" Ryker lowered his shades further. "Took me a pretty while before I got that same one years back. What strategy did you fly with?"

"Um… I wore down Roxanne's Nosepass with Trapinch and set the field with Sand Tombs for Espeon. She was able to beat both of her pokemon after that," Charles explained, a hand under his chin.

"You didn't use that there Machop we gave you?"

"It's Machoke now." Charles corrected, electing a raised eyebrow from Ryker that made Charles grin. "No, Machoke is too slow and would have been worn down by Nosepass's Stealth Rocks and Magnet Bombs. Armaldo is also part-resistant to fighting thanks to its bug-typing. Since Machoke could lose the close quarters one versus one, I instead aimed to use Espeon's long-range attacks to take Armaldo down."

"Heh, remind me to not get in a pokemon battle with you." Ryker nodded in amazement.

"Lay off him, Ryker." Another voice came from their side, and they turned to see a tall, lean officer. His skin was in dire need of sunlight, and some of his black hair was sticking out from the front of his flat-topped police cap.

"Hey, Mikey." Ryker drawled to officer Mike.

Mike narrowed his eyes at Ryker, then shifted them to Charles before saying, "Is my partner bothering you, pal?"

"I-I'm fine! We were just talking about battling, that's all…" Charles pulled at his collar awkwardly, unsure whether it was his anxiety or the heat of the room that was getting him to sweat. Charles glanced at his watch again. It was 1:50.

"I saw ya heading down those there steps. Need any help?" Ryker asked. Charles' heart jumped, and he racked through the different excuses he drummed up in case someone caught him heading downstairs.

"My father asked me to get him something from downstairs before he got here!"

Ryker and Mike stared at him, and Charles' heart paced faster. He cursed himself; the room was getting way too hot now. However, a wide grin spread on Ryker's face.

"Runnin' a few errands for your old man, eh? That's mighty fine of you."

Charles gave off an awkward grin of his own. "Yeah, he's getting really old. Don't want him to wear his old bones walking up and down the stairs… y-you know?"

Ryker nodded, and Charles wondered how daft someone had to be to fall for an excuse like that.

Mike, on the other hand, was much sharper than his partner. "Maybe I'll go with you. Do you know you're way around records?"

"Oh no! Don't worry about it. I'm sure you g-guys are super busy. I don't want to hassle you! He said it was just a paper he left on a desk down there. I'll be super quick, promise!" Charles didn't even wait for them to respond before heading down the stairs quickly. He caught Ryker giving him a little wave, but Mike's eyebrows were still lowered. However, neither of them followed him.

Thank Reshiram. Get a hang of yourself, Charles thought, reaching the bottom. He fast-walked through the dark hallway until he reached the door at the very end. The label RECORDS was plastered in bold letters on the frosted glass.

With cautious hands and wary eyes, Charles opened the door. Inside, he saw about six rows of nothing put cabinets, the kinds someone would put lots of folders in. The dark room was quiet, and the only light source was from the monitor at the back of the room. Charles closed the door behind him and made his way to the computer.

Okay, Charles. You're here, now what? He sat down and moved the computer's mouse. Charles clicked on the web search application, and it immediately brought up the search engine for the available files.

Charles pressed his fingers on the keyboard, typing the words PENNINGTON into the engine. There were three results, and Charles looked at the first one.

DRIVE-BY SHOOTING KILLS INNOCENT WOMAN IN FRONT OF PERSIAN BANK

Dahlia… Charles remembered Moxy's previous headmistress before Nicole took over. He shook his head, not wanting to be distracted from his current goal. Charles skipped the second entry and clicked on the third.

B/D-104, Charles read the location of Moxy's file, and he was quick to get up and walk to the second row of cabinets, named B. Charles constantly looked at the front door, praying to Reshiram that no one would barge inside.

Charles pulled out his DexNav and pressed the flashlight option on the front. A bright light lit up the cabinet in front of him, and he could make out the letter D on the front of it. He pulled it open before thumbing his fingers through the hundreds of folders.

104…104…here! Charles pulled out a file. The front of it read CONFIDENTIAL. Charles walked back to the computer chair and looked at the time on his DexNav. It displayed 1:55.

Shit. Five minutes until he gets here.

Charles opened the file, completely ignoring the time. This was his only chance to find out the details of the last day he saw Moxy. Flipping through the papers, he saw pictures and information. He could feel the white-hot sensation of guilt burning inside him. Everything about Moxy was naked for anyone to see. Her address, her identity, her priors. Charles stopped on the last file.

"Rustboro Museum Robbery, May 2nd," Charles repeated what he typed. The computer displayed the number A/F-241.

First row, last cabinet. Charles went to the specified cabinet and found the report from the museum robbery. He sat against the cabinet and held the light up to the folder.

He saw the pictures of Rustboro Museum. The broken, empty display case that housed the Ruby of Hoenn.

Pink dust? Charles questioned the last picture. Moxy doesn't own a psychic-type. And the size of these boot prints is thirteen. T-this makes no sense!

Charles continued through the file, his resolve much greater than it started based on the unusual evidence. He found a little bag with a strand of red hair, along with a DNA test. The words at the bottom of the file read INCONCLUSIVE.

Charles was seething with anger. Why?! All this evidence leads away from Moxy. Besides the picture of her running away from the scene of the crime and the ruby being found at her school, there's nothing else here that points to her being the thief. She had to have been framed!

Charles raised his head in relief. That burden of not knowing if Moxy was truly guilty or not was lifted off his shoulders. If she had just stayed, she would have had a fighting chance in court. With all this evidence, at least Charles could help her if she ever came back.

However, it wasn't over. There was one more piece he needed if he wanted to exonerate his friend.

Who is her framer? Charles wondered. He went flipped back to the front of the folder to find the reason Moxy was convicted.

ACCESSORY TO THIEVERY.

It all makes sense now, Charles deduced, Moxy isn't behind it. The media blew this out of proportion. They just think she must have been helping someone. The question now is, who actually committed the crime. They had to be professionals, which means they must have been involved in previous crimes.

Charles put away all the files back in their respective places. He went back to the computer desk and checked the time. It was 2:01 now.

Charles wasted no time entering the parameters into the filters of the search engine.

Focus on the pink dust. So, crimes involving a psychic-type.

Charles sighed upon seeing the thousands of reported crimes involving a psychic type. I guess I know what kind of pokemon I'll be using if I want to commit a crime.

He ignored his sarcastic thoughts and focused on narrowing his search. Okay, this guy… or girl hasn't been caught yet. What about cases that were closed due to insufficient evidence?

The engine came up with just over 200 reports. It would take Charles too long to sift through all of them.

The robbery destabilized a peace treaty between Hoenn and Unova. So… crimes where the League had to get involved?

15 hits. Charles went to the cabinet for the first one. It was about a robbery of Mega Stones in Fallarbor. No security footage, and committed by someone with a psychic-type that knows Teleport. The League got involved afterward because of Kalos, and the case was closed with little to no evidence. Charles checked the time again. 2:05. He wondered why Ryker or Mike hadn't come down to check on him yet.

No point on thinking about that now. Charles thought. He needed to hurry. The second case was pretty much the same as the first. Psychic-type. League involved. Case closed due to insufficient evidence.

"That's weird." Charles thought. In the third case, two people died. A security guard and a suspected robber. Charles was startled by some loud voices coming from upstairs. He ignored them and read the folder from cabinet C/D-80.

"Nick Pomero. Oh no…" Charles lost his appetite upon seeing the picture of the man's charred corpse. Apparently, they could only identify him based on his dental records.

"What's this?" Charles whispered. There was a piece of evidence documented with the file.

It was a clear bag, and inside it was a torn fragment of black, burnt clothing. A red symbol was embedded on its front, but half of the symbol had been burned away, so Charles couldn't make out what it meant.

The voices upstairs got louder, and it sounded like someone was shouting. Without wasting a moment, Charles pocketed the piece of clothing and put everything away, leaving the records office the way he found it.

Charles put a pep in his step as he made his way back upstairs. He realized why neither Ryker nor Mike had come down to check on him.

At the front of the reception desk stood a man dressed in a black business suit. He looked a little lanky, but he held himself with a noble posture. His most notable features were his short, snow-white hair and long, crooked nose. A group of officers had formed a half-circle around him, and all of them hovered their hands over their holsters.

"Where's Walter Lockwood?!" the man shouted. He carried a thick accent like Charles, except it was nasally and scratched like a Pidove.

"Sir, if you could just calm down…" Charles heard Mike say.

"Insolence! I am a royal head of Unova! I demand an audience with Lord Lockwood!" the man yelled again. The officers were just about ready to turn this guy into a slice of swiss-cheese when a voice startled everyone from the entrance of the precinct.

"Audience granted, Narthese."

Charles saw his father standing behind the man, holding a briefcase and wearing his work coat. Despite Walter finally showing his face, it only seemed to aggravate Narthese further.

"The gall! Send away my messenger, had you! All of the calls from my lawyers; ignored. If I had a shred of dignity, then the embarrassment of being forced to this backwater of a region has rid me of that!"

"What the hell do you want?" Walter snarled.

"You-" Narthese started, but he stopped himself. A quick composure later, he said, "On the dawn of the last month, I challenge your authority as the lord of Village Bridge!"

Narthese pulled out a rolled-up scroll from the inside of his suit. "This is an official challenge writ, signed by the queen! The rules are trial by combat, and-"

"I know how it works." Walter snatched the scroll out of Narthese's sickly fingers. "I also know the lord gets to choose the battle location. It will be held in Rustboro Stadium. You know, in this backwater region you seem to hate so much."

Narthese gave Walter a glare so spiteful, it was comedic at this point.

"Well, I suppose I'll see you on the first of December," Walter deadpanned. "Now get out."

"Hmph. Good day…" Narthese growled before storming out of the precinct.

All of the officers stared at Walter in gawked silence. Walter's blue eyes scanned the room before they squinted angrily.

"Well, what are you all standing around for?! Back to work!" Walter ordered. Everyone turned away as if nothing had happened.

Walter walked past the reception desk before meeting Charles' gaze.

"My boy," Walter said, prompting Charles to walk up to him.

"Hello, father."

Walter held the door open for Charles. When he entered his father's office, Charles took a seat in front of Walter's steel-white desk. Sunlight from the only window in the room lit a black and white flag hoisted by a small pole in the corner, and multiple trophies were stationed on shelves behind the desk. Charles saw a picture of Walter in his buttoned, military coat, as was customary for generals who fought in the Unovan war.

"Who was that person?" Charles asked him.

Walter closed the door and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. "A nobody. He and a bunch of others have been nuisances for three months now. They think I'm too weak and old to be a lord, that bunch of bottom-feeders."

"Is there nothing we can do about them?"

Walter smirked and winded his shoulder. "This body isn't done yet, and my pokemon are still at their peak. The only way they'll be sitting on my throne is in their dreams, hah!"

Charles chuckled along with his father's booming laughter.

"Now, to the matter at hand. Did you succeed, my boy?" Walter's attitude turned severe within the second.

"See for yourself," Charles said, placing his badge case on the desk. Walter took it with burly fingers, and he clicked it open to find Charles' Stone Badge.

"Just what I'd expect from Lockwood blood." Walter nodded before giving Charles back his case.

"T-thanks dad." Charles rubbed the side of his head. "Maybe we should call Mom and let her know? Together?"

Walter grumbled and leaned back in his chair. "She's probably too busy right now, with all this shit with the Red Hoods and Team Plasma. Alder isn't giving her a break."

Charles looked at the floor despondently. "Oh…"

Walter walked towards the window. "Enough about that. It looks like you're finally ready."

"However!" Walter turned his bearded face on Charles. "If you want to go on this journey, you will heed by my rules. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, father." Charles nodded.

"Good." Walter began to pace behind his desk, his hands resting behind his back. "Rule number one. If you see danger of any kind, you turn around. You will stick to the routes and nowhere else. I hear any rumor that you've gone out to play hero, and you're done."

Charles didn't get a chance to speak when Walter went on. "Rule number two. Unless you're in a city where it's safe, Janice or a pokemon ranger will accompany you everywhere you go. Rule num-"

"As in, I have to travel with a group of trainers?" Charles asked quickly.

"Do not speak over me." Walter narrowed his eyes, and Charles gulped. "Rule number three, you will come back to Rustboro every weekend as an intern of this police station. I don't care where you are in the world, I will have Caldwell take a helicopter to get you to this police station at nine in the morning.

"On. The. Dot," Walter stressed. "If you break any one of these rules, I'm hauling you straight back to Unova."

Father, I'm eighteen. I can take care of myself now, is what Charles wanted to say. However, something kept his mouth shut as he nodded silently.

It was fear of the unknown. He had no idea what his father might do if Charles rejected his rules.

Walter finally stopped pacing and sat down in his office chair. "Look. I know all these rules are a pain. When you're older, you'll thank me. I want you to learn to be cautious. This world… it's easy living on the surface."

"But the hard truth is that this is a different kind of hell. And… your mother couldn't bear to lose you if something happened. So, follow these rules, for me and Evelynne. Okay?"

Walter had this tired look in his eye, and Charles couldn't help feeling bad for him.

"Yes. For mother. And you." Charles placed a hand on his chest in promise. His father gave him a weary smile in return.

"Good. Caldwell will drop you off at the center Janice is staying at. I hope you accomplish your goals and see everything Hoenn has to offer, my boy. I expect to see you here again in five days."

Charles and Walter stood from their seats.

"Um… well, I better get goin-"

Charles was surprised when Walter walked around his desk to hug him. He smelled like pine trees, with a hint of smokiness as if his heart pumped molten coal rather than blood.

"Take care, my son." Walter unwrapped Charles before walking back to his desk.

"Thanks… dad." Charles bowed before leaving.

A breeze filled Charles' lungs with crisp and cold air as he stepped out into an orange-colored sky. Charles hurried down the stairs away from the police station, and he could see a black car waiting for him on the side of the street ahead. A sting of unnatural pain was stuck in his throat, and Charles wiped the forming water in his blue eyes.

I'm sorry, father. I love you too much to say no. I know you and mother couldn't take it if I die out there. But it's also because of this love that I must lie to you. Because there is someone else I love very much that needs my help, and unfortunately, there is no place I won't go to find her…