Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or the below quote from the New International Version ofThe Holy Bible.

Author's Note:Good evening, everyone – well what do you know, I made my deadline again. Of course, I must admit, to me this is not so impressive, as this chapter acts as only one half of chapter sixteen, with the second half following in November. In some ways I am pleased with this split, as it keeps chapter sixteen in its entirety manageable and gives you, my readers, time to breathe and digest the information I am giving you. If I had kept both parts together, I am afraid it would have been too much to handle all in one sitting, not to mention rather boring. Honestly, I would have gone nuts trying to write it all in a single section, and I am sure you would have gone nuts reading my ramblings. In addition, the decision to split this will allow me to keep to the schedule I set for myself, and keeping my word to you all is quite important to me. Of course, the negative aspect to this split is that it breaks the self-contained chapter arc style found in all of the previous chapters. Maybe, after the next part is ready, I will combine the two, though I somewhat doubt I will end up deciding on that route. Yet at any rate, here is the first section of "016: Reflections" – this will cover the science fiction theories I have been harboring in my brain for a few years now, as well as introduce a character I rather adore (though she is, for the record, definitely not an original character).

I hope you all enjoy the chapter, in particular the first dream section. I admit to feeling rather sentimental about it (laughs).

Previously:While on the run from Team Rocket in mid-winter, Cassandra discovers that she is pregnant with Mewtwo's offspring, a son and a daughter who she eventually decides she will attempt to nurture and raise on her own. When the organization discovers her condition, orders are given to bring her in alive and, after around three months of the hunt, they nearly capture her on the edge of Saffron City. Yet the angel takes shelter in the metropolis' Pokémon Center, where a detective named Michael, haunted by a past encounter with a member of the Team Rocket Elite, guards her from the attack. While the battle wages, trainers join the fray and manage to repel the assault of the organization, and after the shadow group retreats, Doctor Aurora Joy, the head of the facility, takes Cassandra aside to attend to her needs and give the woman advice: to stay in Saffron where she, and the children in her womb, will be protected and well cared for. In the end, the angel decides to take her up on the offer, although she dreads the possibilities of what might occur if the truth about her past and the nature of the twins are publically revealed….

CHAPTER 17: REFLECTIONS - PART 1

"Come away, my lover,

and be like a gazelle

or like a young stag

on the spice-laden mountains."

- Song of Songs 8:14.

"...Are you afraid, Cassie?"

She and the lost one sat upon a hillside, leaning back on their arms, with blades of grass pressing razor thin imprints into their palms. Above them the firmament was stained with orange and honey, and the cirrus clouds gleamed like sun-illuminated gold; beyond them, a plain of wildflowers and grasses extended, and paths of white dust interwove in the unending, undulating meadow. Only a few trees, ablaze with the bright hues of springtime, burst forth from the earth, and their youthful leaves rustled softly in the breeze, which smelled of sweet herbs. To Cassandra, who gazed towards the western horizon where the sun was setting, this place seemed to her a paradise, and a fitting land for the one beside her to dwell in – the one who, as she knew well, had been dead for nearly ten years now.

Yet Amber Smith seemed to have adjusted well to her status as a spirit, and if she possessed markers of her death, she did not allow them to show. Her skin retained its vital, apricot hue; her long, teal hair remained silken; and her pristine, white sundress and sandals were not smudged with grave dirt. In addition, perhaps in her desire to invoke Cassandra's full honesty and comfort, she had even aged herself to the same age as the mother-to-be: her body was long in limb, her waist and back were slender, her hips and breasts curved gently, and her face maturely angled. Yet most notable were her eyes, for although they were still the pure indigo hue that Cassandra remembered, they no longer sparkled with innocence. Instead they gleamed with comprehension into the matters of grief, pain, and most noticeably of all, acute dread. Perhaps she had watched her friends' lives from this world after her passing, and had bourn witness to the suffering they had endured…or perhaps the truth of the nature of her multiple deaths had wizened her soul. Either way, Cassandra knew that the question the woman had voiced was carefully spoken, for the one who had uttered it knew it sliced through the shell of her friend's defenses and nipped at the flesh of her heart.

Was the angel afraid…? Could there be any doubt of that? "Yes, I'm…I'm terrified now," Cassandra confessed.

For how could she not be frightened? Although her consciousness lingered in this lovely place, she could feel the echo of her true self in the waking world, which ached with stiffness from laying upon a thin mat, and beneath it, unyielding cement. Despite that Doctor Aurora Joy had attempted to provide her patient with enough layers to keep her comfortable and warm, in the end, no amount of quilts and blankets could make a confinement cell cozy...yet Cassandra willed her thoughts away from that unwelcome reality, instead preferring to focus on the trio of pokémon in the meadows: a Venasaur lay on his belly, his breath bending the wildflowers before him; a Blastoise savored the clear, cool waters of the nearby stream; a Charizard, his tail held aloft, gazed out across the rolling sea of grasses, as if searching for another arrival. Each of the three was strangely marked, and from these marks Cassandra thought they might be the clones who had befriended her late lover in his childhood. Reminiscing so about her mate, she pressed a hand to her abdomen, which was now undeniably rounded from her pregnancy. Amber, seeing this, smiled…but that smile held more than a little sadness.

"You are terrified for the twins, aren't you?"

Cassandra closed her eyes, trying not to allow the torment of her fear to overtake her mind…yet it would not be denied, and unbidden the recollection of her misfortune materialized in the field: the cafeteria of the Saffron Pokémon Center, its tables and chairs strewn about the dining hall, which bore the markers of battle, established itself first. Then the secondary characters, which lined the edges of the room, appeared like wraiths, the defenders and defiers of justice alike captivated by the duo they loosely ringed around: Cassandra, with one hand against her belly and the other aiming a glock, and the individual that weapon was aimed at, a Team Rocket agent who clutched at his bleeding shoulder and wickedly grinned at the distress his words were causing her:

"Filthy Jezebel," he taunted, "If they knew what you were and what you've done, they would riddle your polluted body with more iron than the putrefying seed your rabid beast pumped into you-!"

The degradation of her bond with her lover, and the hint at the exposure of her identity, caused a scream to rise in her throat: "Shut up!Shut up!"

"Or you'll do what? Will you shoot me in front of all of these people?" He laughed cruelly at the idea. "And here I thought you were depending on the illusion that you haven't committed any sin greater than fucking a monster! I thought you didn't want to clue them in to the evils you have committed, the evils which are far more staggering than any I can boast to have committed!"

On the sidelines, eyes narrowed at these words, and Cassandra could feel their gazes, hot and probing, racing over her frame. Her finger tightened on the trigger of the gun, and panic began to overflow from her stomach in the form of sour acid in the back of her throat. She had to silence him; he could not tell them what her life had been…! Yet he was already speaking the words which tore away the little security she had only recently gained, "After all, I bet they wouldn't take kindly to learn that you've murdered dozens, possibly hundreds in the name of our Signore; that you were Azrael, our feared Angel of Death, our leader's chosen assassin! No, I bet they won't take kindly to that at all, little Azra!"

'No…!'her thoughts cried out in horror. Yet the words spoken could not be unspoken; the people around her stilled, and the atmosphere of the room became frozen and airless. With a few sentences he had ruined what safety she had gained for herself, and spying her distraught expression and knowing well how he had undermined her, his smile only widened. He was not finished with her just yet, either…: "And I'll bet," he hissed, "they'll be even more interested to know why you fell from your high perch. Should I tell them that too, Jezebel? I have already mentioned it, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind some clarification."

And before she could silence him with a threat, with violence, he had cast his gaze at the audience around them and had called out, "What do you all think? Do you all want to know what she chose over the organization which nurtured her from childhood? Do you want to know why she betrayed us? I assure you, the reason wasn't noble in the least." Then, without waiting for their response, he glanced at the woman again and announced, "No, this woman right here wanted to fuck…and she didn't even have to decency to want to fuck a man. She decided she craved the flesh of a lowlypokémoninstead: an overgrown cat that our scientists made, who postured as a human to take the jolly ride with her. The creature inside her is the result of their lusts, an abomination so vile it's of lesser value than its father's s-."

The blast of a bullet firing drowned out the end of his sentence. As the man fell backwards with a screech, cursing her now that she had fired a round into his other shoulder, he only quieted when she stomped her foot down onto his chest and lifted the barrel of the gun to point between his brows. Her motions were smooth, yet suddenly wearied...in fact, as he peered up at her he noted that her expression conveyed fatigue, and that her eyes were glazed over with the emotions his words had triggered within her: horror, fury, and grief. She did not care that the people around them had just witnessed her shoot a man, could not even be bothered with the thought that now everyone would gaze upon her in revulsion. What mattered was what the worm beneath her heel had uttered, and in a low voice, inlaid with steel, she growled, "I don't give a damn what you think of me and the choices I've made…I don't even care that you've insulted the memory of the person who mattered most to me. He wouldn't have let your pettiness bother him, so why should I…?"

Then her eyes blazed and she leaned forward, digging the barrel of the gun into his forehead. A click, from the pressure of her finger over the trigger, sounded in the room before she shouted, "But don't you or anyone elsedarespeak about my children that way! They're pure, innocent, they're not vile or abominations or…or…!" She pressed her other hand firmly to her navel, attempting to swallow down the wrath that had been spawned for their sake. They were not what he had said…they were the wonders who gave her life a purpose she would happily devote herself to...!

Yet the Team Rocket agent was not interested in the least with the firearm pointed in his face. Instead, it was her speech which intrigued him, and with mingled disbelief and twisted delight, he echoed the key word from her snarls: "'Children'…?"

With a shriek of mingled horror and rage at her slip, Cassandra whipped the gun against the side of his face and leapt back from him, and, with eyes downcast, charged from the room into the hallways of the facility. Eventually, with tears blinding her as emotion overwhelmed her, she staggered into a table, which she grasped with one white-knuckled hand and leaned down upon. More than being exposed as the murderess she was, she was sickened at the knowledge of how her relationship with her late lover, and by extension their children, had been so perverted. Was there no chance at acceptance for any of them…? She could understand if she was branded as a monster, but her son and daughter, they….

"They're not abominations…my children arenotabominations, they're…."

They were hermiracles -they kept her clinging to life and made the world a place worth living in, even when everything around her sought to ruin her. As her tears became those of mourning for their sake, she jerked as someone began to tug at the firearm she carried and, as she relinquished it, grasped her shoulder and spun her around. There stood Detective Michael Lagorio, a man who had increasingly become a comforting presence in her life, not only for the protection that he offered but also for possessing a good and noble nature which, in this chaotic, bloody world, was a blessing she could well appreciate. Yet gazing now into his face, she wondered if even this guardian would turn against her. The hard glint in his eyes, the scorching rage shining in it, gave her the answer. However, she found she could not move as he reached out towards her neck, and distantly she wondered if he would attempt to strangle her. For a moment the instinct to leap back, not only for her sake but also for the sake of her son and daughter, rose in her limbs, but she had frozen upon seeing a man of his caliber so degraded by his hate for what he regarded as evil. Yet fortunately for the woman and her unborn children, the hand which reached for her did not close around her throat; instead it slid beneath her choker and yanked forcefully. The clasps of the piece, after years of mistreatment, snapped from the sudden duress, and as she felt the prickling and weight of her wings emerging into existence, she glanced away from him, unable to meet his eyes from the shame at what they identified her as. Yet now that she was exposed, she would not hide what she was, and so she lifted her feathered limbs and stretched the muscles and the tendons, extended the primary flight feathers and invited his abuse towards them. Surely he had every reason to strike her down…? However, he did not succumb to a display of brutality; instead he merely gritted his teeth and then said listlessly, "So…you were Azrael."

She nodded and then lifted her face. The hand that did not clutch her, she noted, gripped hard at the gun, and it seemed a wonder to her that it did not fire. Yet after a few more seconds, that grip relaxed, and the man holstered the weapon. Afterwards he took her wrists with bruising strength, so unlike his ginger touch over the past month, and as he regarded her with open agitation, he mused aloud, "Your children are the only things keeping you alive; if you hadn't been pregnant, I would have emptied iron into you just as that bastard suggested."

The corners of her lips tucked upwards in a resigned, melancholic smile. "I know…and I can't say I blame you for that."

…He could not bear to look at this creature. Turning his eyes away, he spat, "Don't talk. Really, don't: what you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-."

She almost laughed in surprise at the irony and the very banality of that opening phrase. "Are you arresting me?" she asked, with her voice light in her wry humor at the notion. Wasthisevent honestly unfolding inherlife…?

Detective Lagorio glared and, ducking from her wings as he did so, tugged her hands behind her back forcefully. "As a matter of fact, I am. You, Miss Cassandra Bracken, are under arrest for the murder of the Yew family and, I am sure, countless others…."

He recited the Miranda Rights and placed her into one of the Center's confinement cells, for he dared not move her to the more proper police station. Yet there, able to do little more, she whittled away the time by contemplating her situation, and when that became unbearable, by reminiscing and dreaming. Having now resided in that cell for over two weeks, she was relieved to have found that her needs were cared for, and that she was not completely left in isolation. In fact, she received visitors a few times a day, including a concerned (yet wary) Doctor Joy; a pacing, visibly agitated Detective Lagorio; and a number of others whose names and faces she swiftly forgot. Her fate and the fate of her children, she understood, would be decided by these strangers…and that idea, she found, wearied her. Eventually she simply wrapped her wings around herself and took what comfort she could from their softness and warm - this was the first time in years they'd been exposed for an extended period of time, and she found they were growing stronger for it. However, as they gained strength they also gained the itch to beat free of this cage and take her into the skies of early spring. Perhaps that was why, when she dreamed, the firmament always extended, wide and open, in all directions above her….

Within one such dream, Amber took one of the angel's hands in her own, and as Cassandra lay down in the grass, she felt slender fingers running through her hair. Both of her friend's actions provided solace to her, and with lowered eyelids, she murmured, "After everything that has happened, how can I not be scared for my children...? What if these people separate us…? What if they execute me the minute after I give birth? If I am killed like their father was, then who will care for them? When these people look at me, they sneer in disgust…and I can understand why they do so, but…when their eyes fall to my stomach, that sickened look intensifies twofold. They seem incapable of seeing past what Mewtwo and I have done, incapable of having some mercy for two tiny creatures who have never done anything wrong. What should I do, Amber…? How can I protect them against an entire world which refuses to accept them…?"

Above her, there was a sigh, and then a whisper, "Cassie…I don't think you can," Amber admitted, and then said, "Mewtwo and you will just have to fight for them and reassure them of the truth: that their lives are precious and good, that they are loved, and that there are other beings out there without prejudice who will embrace them just as warmly as you do. Personally, I think that if anyone can succeed in that task, it will be you two. After all, you both comprehend that new life, no matter how it is formed, is blessed and deserves to live a whole and happy life. As such, I cannot imagine the possibility that youwon'tmake fine parents."

The stance her friend was taking, disregarding the fact that Mewtwo was no longer among the living, momentarily angered Cassandra. However, sorrow made the forming flame gutter out, and as she gazing out upon the land with mournful eyes, she whispered, "But Mewtwo is gone, Amber…I am facing this responsibility alone."

"…Are you?"

She looked up in confusion to find her friend regarding her solemnly, and, noting that she had captured the angel's attention, Amber nodded to the east. Sitting up, Cassandra peered in that direction and saw, in the distance, a tall, slender figure striding up one of the paths to the crest of another hill. Recognizing the silhouette, the mother-to-be bolted to her feet, her heart hammering and her breath quickening. As she stepped forward, the others vanished and the miles between the figure and her melted away. Barefoot she dashed up the path towardshim, feeling the sand, of the texture of cremation ashes, beneath her toes. As the slope flattened, the breeze picked up, bending the grasses and causing her hair, as well as the thin, white nightgown she was wearing, to fly about. Yet when the gust died down, she lifted her gaze to find the clone standing before her, his back turned towards her, and after a moment's hesitance when nervousness took root in her stomach, she approached him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. He was warm, solid, and smelled of mint - emotion flooded her, the most potent being her grief that this was only a dream. Yet as he turned in her embrace and lowered his face towards hers, she attempted to forget this fact as they kissed briefly. When they parted, she noted that his brow was furrowed somewhat, and his expression was ambiguous; he was silent as she took his paws gently and pressed them to her rounded navel. It was this, the act which would never take place, which she thought she probably yearned for the most: to share with him the life they had made together in their passion. As his fingers began to caress her belly curiously, the longing only became keener, and leaning against him, with her forearms flat to his chest, she whispered into his fur, "I'm sorry…god, Mewtwo, I'm sorry! I should have stayed with you...if I had, then maybe you would be here with me, withus, with the children you deserve to know. This isn't right or fair, not for any of you...and I'msorry. I'll do everything I can to make up for the mistakes I've made…I'll do everything I can to make sure the ones we made live a better life than we both did. I'll do everything I can for them, but Mewtwo, I…I don't know if I can do this alone…."

She trembled against him, and then confessed quietly, "…I'm…I'm not even sure that I want to. I need you so much, Ziv."

His arms and tail slid around her in an embrace as she committed the rare act of breathing outherpet name forhim…there was a brief pressure against her stomach as he did so…and then everything began to fade, but not before he whispered one phrase:

(You are not alone, Cassandra…never.)

And as she slowly lifted her eyelids, her gaze focusing on the interwoven threads of the blanket bunched beneath her head, she felt the proof of his words: within her core arose the gentlest of sensations, like a feathered wing brushing the inner flesh of her womb. Surprise, then wonder suffused her, and for a moment as her hands slid to her rounded abdomen, her worries evaporated entirely. One of her children was stirring…she could feel one of them moving…!

Mewtwo…that's one of our children, she thought as she curled up around the sensation, closing her eyes with a sigh and burying her face into the fabric beneath her.

She was not alone.

The next day she was lying back on a medical table, with an icy slime smeared across her exposed abdomen and a probe digging into her firm flesh. This was more than a little uncomfortable, and only added to the discontentment spawned from having her wings smothered beneath her weight. That, and she thought that Aurora Joy might be treating her somewhat more roughly than she would with her other patients. She supposed that was understandable, given that the doctor had not been pleased to discover the true nature of the woman's children so late into the pregnancy. Yes, she had detected abnormalities before now, but it would have been nice to know that she was handling hybrids, given the careful approach that had to be taken in caring for them. By that same logic, Cassandra was willing to bet that Aurora was greatly displeased with the treatment her charge was undergoing…which, in fact, the older woman was. While in theory the doctor grasped the idea that the girl before her had committed enormous atrocities, and so did not merit the comfort of freedom or a cozy room, Doctor Joy found she could not agree with the approach the justice system had taken in this case. Cassandra Bracken seemed too young, too soft, and far too loving when it came to her children to be a cold-blooded killer; and even if she was a monster, surely if only for the sake of promoting the health of those twins, she should be treated more hospitably. Even Michael, who was among the most fiercely anti-Rocket members of the investigative force, was similarly disturbed by the situation, and he too was struggling to come to terms with the idea that Azrael, the Elite Rocket he had once pursued so fiercely, was really just a kid. Neither of them knew what to think about this turn of events now that their shock and initial fury had waned, for both of them were still seeing Cassandra Bracken as a victim rather than a hunter…and the fact that she seemed remorseful about the crimes she had committed, and was, furthermore, growing more and more fragile as her pregnancy continued, made it difficult to affiliate her with the homicidal Azra.

Over the past few hours, Aurora had done a variety of tests and taken several samples from the angel and the twins, all to access the overall health of the trio. Now, while her computer programs mulled over the biological data she had submitted to them, she had determined she could no longer postpone one of the more important tests for the eighteenth week: the ultrasound. She had, from her own uncertainty, avoided it as long as she could, both curious and fearful of what she might find curled up in the woman's core. Her mind told her that this wariness was irrational, and that she should be thrilled to be the medic who had encountered this phenomenon: within her patient's womb were the first interordinal hybrids ever to be scientifically documented. Sure, she would never have the opportunity to share her findings with anyone in the medical community, as she knew the potentially disastrous consequences to the mother and her offspring if they were exposed to the world...but still, the chance to pioneer an unexplored field like this occurred only once in a lifetime…and to be so close to the subject of the case, professionally speaking, would offer her so more insight into the anomaly! So, with a silent sigh, Aurora braced herself and searched the monitor of the ultrasound machine for the twins…and then hummed at what she found. Interesting….

"Is something wrong?"

The voice was nervous, and blinking Aurora turned to the angel and said, "Hmm? Oh, no, everything appears to be fine, it's just…well, how much do you know about pokémon litters, preferably concerning the live birth variety?"

Cassandra tilted her head, recalling what knowledge she had about the occurrence. "I know that the kits of the litters will often take after one parent or the other, with minimal external evidence of the genetic mixing. Why?"

"It seems that your children are following in the same pattern," Aurora announced, and turned the monitor to face the girl. With her index finger, she traced the outline of the child on the left-hand side of the screen. "This one, as far as external appearances goes, seems to have taken after its human genetic inheritance, while the other one," she continued, outlining the creature on the right side, "is showing evidence of taking after its pokémon heritage: I can make out a tail, as well as the differences in the shapes of its hands and feet. Tell me, did its father have this tubular grown between the back of the skull and the spine?"

"He did," Cassandra said quietly. "It was meant to increase the flow of blood to the brain to help support his enhanced psychic abilities and mental processes."

"I see…well, if that's the case, then I think I can reasonably conclude that there doesn't seem to be any outward signs of defects or malformations. Just let me jot down a few notes and measurements, and then we'll clean you up and…erm-."

"Return me to the cell, I know. It's alright...I'm content just knowing they're okay," Cassandra said tiredly, and leaning back she gazed at the monitor intently, savoring the sight of the twins within her. They were now formed enough that they actually looked like children: as she watched, the kitten's tail swung lazily, and the child who took after her shape sucked at its thumb...and neither of them, she was pleased to discover, had any trace of her wings.

Yet the doctor noticed the girl's fatigue, and having already assessed the results from some of the tests she had done on the angel, she frowned and asked, "And how about you, Cassandra? How are you doing?"

At the sound of her name, the mother-to-be glanced briefly at the older woman and gave her a small smile, grateful for the personal address and her concern. "I'm alright," she said. "A little tired, I suppose, and my stomach has yet to settle. There has been some swelling and general soreness, namely in my breasts, but otherwise, I cannot complain, as the rest of the symptoms seem relatively harmless. I am sure you don't need to hear about those...although…."

Tension wound in Aurora's shoulders, and keeping her calm composure in place, she encouraged Cassandra to go on. "Is there something else?"

Cassandra looked at the monitor, her expression softening as she did so, and after a moment's hesitance, she murmured, "Yes…last night I felt one of them moving. It was a strange sensation, but…not an unpleasant one."

Aurora smiled, inwardly relieved, and as she took some screenshots from the feed and began to print them off for the expecting mother, she said, "Ah, so they've quickened, have they? Well, you are at eighteen weeks, so I suppose that is to be expected. I take it this was the first time you've felt them?" A nod answered her, yet as her charge cleaned herself up and adjusted her clothes, the doctor received the distinct impression that her response had disappointed the girl. Peering at her, Aurora noted that the smile adorning Cassandra's face had faded and her posture had slumped; she seemed disheartened, as if she had hoped for something more from the other female….

Yet after her patient had been returned to her cell, and after the doctor had gone over the results of all of the tests, she found she could not be concerned with the emotional status of the mother-to-be. Instead, the younger female's body became her foremost concern. Over the next three days, in which her studies were only interrupted by her physical needs and meetings held to determine the fate of the trio under her care, she poured over the data and began to arrive at conclusions which unsettled her. Eventually, Michael invaded her laboratory in a rescue attempt, and when he reached her in the depths of her marble cavern, he found her hunched over in her chair and rubbing at her temples. Handing her a cup of coffee, mixed with a couple tablespoons of chocolate syrup as she liked it, he asked her why she looked ready to howl. Wordlessly she passed him a folder on her desk labeled with what he recognized as Cassandra's patient number: inside were numerous scans showing the girl's skeletal and musculature structures, including close-up shots of her wings and chest. Other documents included genome sequences, with numerous links being filled in with an array of colors and circled in bold marker. Scrawled in the margins of many of these pages were handwritten notes, and as he fingered through the folder, he found torn out notebook pages covered with Aurora's illegible cursive scrawl. Finally there were numerous articles concerning pokémon and human anatomical and genetics studies and, more surprising, narratives from ancient tribes around the globe about otherworldly creatures. Since he could barely make out Aurora's miniscule notes and so put all off the puzzle pieces together, he asked her to translate what he was looking at. She first pulled out the records regarding the genome codes, and nodded to the data streaming on the screen before her.

Then, in a quiet voice, she said, "What I'm seeing here are impossibilities, concerning both this woman and her children alike. Those twins are especially disconcerting to me, and not in the same way they are for you and the others, Michael, although I do understand the source of your wariness. No, for me the data I am receiving has entirely different implications…."

The man pulled up a nearby chair and straddled it. Looking over the files she had given him, he vaguely recognized some of the genetic terms thanks to the course he had taken on forensic analysis, but much of it remained gibberish to him. Pinching his brow, he said, "Alright, what are you thinking, Aurora? Do you know howthis," he asked, referring to the existence of the human-pokémon children, "happened? Have you come up with an explanation?"

Swiveling her chair to face him, she leaned forward and asked him in turn, "How much do you know about naturally occurring hybrids?"

"Just the basics…primarily, that there are four general factors that act as hybridization barriers: morphological differences, differing times of fertility, differing mating behaviors and cues, and physiological rejection of sperm cells or the developing embryo," he listed, dredging up memories from biology courses from years past. He then mused aloud, "Morphological differences and differing mating behaviors and cues obviously did not impede the woman and her partner; they must have been similar enough to bypass those issues. As for differing times of fertility, human women are unlike most other animals in that they become fertile every month, so that probably was not a hindrance. That would leave the largest problem, genetic incompatibility, and that, I'm afraid, is where I am stuck – for while bestiality is not a new phenomenon in this world, I have never heard of a valid tale of offspring from the act before now."

The medic nodded and gestured to the files in his hands. "By all means, these children should not exist: humans and pokémon are from two entirely different orders of animals, and while, as you said, there have been tales of cross-breeds before now in myth, those can largely be attributed to children born with external mutations or those gifted with psychical or elemental abilities. As far as we know, nothing like this has ever occurred before…but I think I may have come up with a theory, if you are interested in hearing it."

Seeing his nod, she fingered through the folder's contents and pulled out some articles concerning the ancient, and now presumably extinct, pokémon named "Mew," as well as studies done by pokémon breeders on the compatibility between the monster races. "First, as you may have learned in your Pocket Monster Research courses, many pokémon are capable of breeding outside of their own species; this can occur between the different evolutions of one race, or between different races in the same egg groups. Their capacity for breeding is extensive enough that even some of the most unlikely, not to mention disturbing, possibilities can come up, such as the fertility between a Skitty and a Wailord. While their habitats are nowhere near the same, and three of the hybridization barriers would seem to prevent this from occurring in nature, it is genetically possible to mix the two. This has led most researchers to believe that pokémon - although they vary greatly in shape and abilities – have a common chromosome count and numerous identical genetic markers. With both of these present, the chances of physiological rejection of sperm cells or the developing embryo (which occurs because the genetics between the parents are too different) is greatly reduced, and more importantly, the fertility of the offspring is almost ensured. Now we could simply chalk this up to an anomaly of nature in the pokémon order itself, and claim it has nothing to do with the current phenomenon we are seeing with Miss Bracken's children. However, what the details of the pokémon breeding compatibility suggest may have weight in our situation."

Michael, by this point, was struggling to grasp what she was implying, and so, blinking at her, he said, "And that would be…?"

She pointed to the article on "Mew" and said, "That they all have a common ancestor, which, according to many archeologists, would be these creatures here: the Mew. Now my theory is that the Mew truly were, as some researchers suggest, the first pokémon to walk the earth – anomalies, if you will, in the animal kingdom. Supposedly they had powerful psychic abilities, abilities so great that their extinction seems to defy Darwin's theory, as these creatures most assuredly were the fittest in regards to pure strength and their capacity for survival. However, I believe their extinction can be explained by two factors: first, being a budding species, their numbers would have been rather small, and second, they had a very,veryspecial ability previously unheard of - one that, even now, only one other pokémon type is capable of – and that is Transform. The Mew could shape-shift, and I believe that was ultimately their undoing."

Michael leaned back and began to see where she might be heading with this. "And the only other creatures with that ability are the Ditto, who can, incidentally, be used to breed with almost any other pokémon race in existence. Are you saying that you think the Mew had a similar breeding capacity?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am – and that is not where the similarities end, either, as both the Mew and Ditto have nearly the same mass, height, and coloring. I think what we call Ditto may actually be a degraded form of Mew, possibly the result of inbreeding late into the Mew's existence; that we see the markers of massive genetic defects in the later Mew carbon fossils, defects usually only seen in the offspring of incest, supports this notion. Furthermore, there is additional archaeological evidence that supports my theory: around the time of the extinction of Mew, the first Ditto began to appear. Mind you, so did many other species of pokémon, so this correlation could be dismissed on that charge. However, I have an explanation on the appearances of those species as well. Would you like to hear it?"

"Naturally," he said, knowing that she would tell him anyway, but desiring to humor her nonetheless.

"I think that the Mew, about mid-way through the era of their existence, began to experiment with Transform and change into other sorts of animals. From there I believe they mated with those other species and had offspring, and that those genetically mixed offspring were the forerunners of the pokémon races we know today. However, genetic mixing would have been dangerous for their species: not only was their bloodline being diluted to the point where the original, pure-bred population was disappearing, but many of their race was surely lost in these transformations: some might have died fighting for foreign mates, while others might have forgotten what they were, and hence never returned to replenish their own species. Eventually, their kind began to decline in numbers and turn inwards, and this ultimately was the killing blow for them: through inbreeding, they likely lost much of their fertility amongst themselves, and those who could breed together likely spawned offspring with increasingly evident genetic defects and frailties. Eventually, they lost their shapes and their abilities, and ultimately became a shadow of what they were. In short, to survive they devolved and became something else entirely."

The detective, contemplating this, eventually nodded and then said, "Intriguing, and, I think, entirely plausible. I doubt you will ever be able toproveit, but it makes sense to me. However, what does this have to do with Cassandra Bracken's children?"

"Do you know the name of the father of her twins?" Aurora asked. When her friend shook his head, she told him, "His name was Mewtwo: Mew-two. Apparently he was a modified version of the original Mew, created from some remarkably preserved, genetic remains which dated back to the early era of the Mew's existence. Hence, he was derived from a pure-bred Mew free of the poison of incest. In addition, he was physically shaped by his creators into the image of a man, and through the empathic imprinting observed in all psychic pokémon children, was likely mentally influenced by the humans around him as well. This is probably why he chose a human as his mate, and why Cassandra was comfortable accepting him," she explained. Glancing at her handwritten notes, she then said, "Now from what she has told me, they were mates for a significant amount of time before conceiving, which I thought was somewhat odd - but then I remembered that Cassandra had, up until recently, been taking a drug containing opiates and anti-depressants, which have adverse, even lethal affects to developing fetuses. She could have been impregnated multiple times and then miscarried due to the drug, but once she stopped taking it, thanks to the genetic legacy of the species he was created from, her mate was capable of siring offspring in her. While different, she was simply another animal he was compatible with; albeit, a highly evolved one. Andthatleads me to why these children scare the shit out of me."

She turned to the screen behind her and pointed to the data stream rolling down the monitor. "From the biological samples I took from the amniotic fluid and some of their fetal blood, I have been searching their genomes for the common genetic diseases or defects found in other hybrid children. After all, although their parents were reproductively compatible, they are from different orders of animals, so thereshouldhave been some genetic weaknesses, mutations, orsomethingsignifying their status as cross-breeds. At the very least, there should have been an abundance of what geneticists term 'junk DNA,' or sequences in chromosomes or genomes which have no identifiable purposes. Instead, I found theopposite."

"Michael, these kids…I've checked the data over twice now, and the normal 'junk DNA' percentage is far below normal…and far more disconcerting is that, thus far, Ihaven'tfound a single significant flaw in either of them!"

The detective's expression, once he realized what she was saying, contorted with mingled astonishment and disbelief. "You mean to say they'reperfect-?"

"Genetically, they're the closest I've ever seen to such a thing," she inserted. "In reality, I am sure they will have their shortcomings and faults just like everyone else, but physically they are the ideal life-forms - which, I suppose, does correlate to the facts: they are a mix of the two most influential and versatile species this planet has ever known, so it makes sense that they would have some advantages over the rest of us. What that woman is carrying is plausibly the next jump in evolution…and what scares me is that, unlike in prehistoric ages where they could have lived their own lives, there now exists the possibility that they may be manipulated to further someone else's agenda. If they fall into the wrong hands, they can be used to wreck unimaginable chaos in this world…and I think Team Rocket figured that out long before I did. I think these children, more than anything else, are why Team Rocket is trying to drag Cassandra back to their organization…and Michael, I cannot stress this enough:wecannot let that happen.In fact, I am inclined to say we can't let allow our own people to have them either, as so many are trying to suggest. That, too, seems to be asking for trouble."

Michael sat up straighter, having already realized that surrendering the children to Team Rocket was unthinkable, but what Aurora had said about their side…in theory, he could understand the problems that might arise, but what she was implying…! "So what are you suggesting? That we let their mother keep them after everything she's done? Would that be any safer for them? Aurora, I know you have doubts that she really is the person that Team Rocket claims her to be, but I've been checking her official files and comparing her to what myself and others encountered when meeting that assassin, and it allfits-!"

"I know it does, Michael! It fits with my own findings on her person as well! However, would you –beforeit had been suggested to you - have pegged her as a cold-blooded killer? I wouldn't have…but in the end, your line of argument here doesn't matter. Yes,Iwould say let her keep them, since she is probably the only one on Earth who can look past what they are and love them, and is probably the only one who can hope to understand them as they grow. She is probably the only one who can teach them about who they are, and reassure them that they arenotfreaks made from perversion. Yes, Michael,Iwould say let their mother raise them, but in the end that may be impossible…and not because they might be taken from her."

He blinked at her in confusion. "What do you mean-?"

His friend's gaze became hollow she contemplated a notion which she, as a person devoted to preserving life, viewed as an atrocity: "…There is a significant chance that Cassandra Bracken will not survive childbirth. If fact, because she says she will refuse to have a Cesarean Section due to some sentimental, 'they must beborn' ideal, I am inclined to say that she has tipped the scale in death's favor. She may be sentencing herself to die."

For a long moment, Michael Lagorio stared at the doctor, before asking, "And how did you come to that nasty conclusion?"

Wearily, Aurora took the folder from him and spread out the scans showing the angel's physical structure in comparison to another woman of her body type. "There are significant differences between these two: first, Cassandra's chest depth is greater than the norm (which provides the illusion that she has a larger bust than she actually has), which supports both the denser, thicker pectorals and the other chest muscles required to support her in flight. These are anchored to a heavier, oversized breastbone and a collarbone whose shape resembles those found in avian creatures; it's almost a 'Y' in shape. Her shoulders are also a tad broader to secure this structure, and inside her ribcage she carries a larger heart and lungs for increased oxygen and blood circulation. Her other organs, in contrast, are somewhat smaller than usual. Her arms and legs are disproportional, with her forearms being shorter and her fingers longer than the norm, while her legs are a tad lengthier. Her bones themselves are thinner, and considerably lighter, so I suspect they may have hollow cavities within them. Yet they must also be quite strong: when I scanned her, there were no signs of previous breaks or significant fractures."

"These adjustments all combine to give her more control over he direction in flight, and to make her frame strong and lightweight so that her massive wings (twelve feet, wingtip to wingtip) can support her body in midair. As for those wings themselves, they are the uppermost pair in a double-limbed mutation, with the lower pair being her arms. However, their internal structure, although they are feathered, are far more alike to a chiroptera's (a bat's, Michael) than an actual bird's: the forearms are shortened, and their breadth is largely made up of the long, thin digits in the hands. What also intrigued me was that, when I analyzed her feathers themselves, I found that the keratin they are composed of is actually α-keratin, the type found in mammalian hair rather than the β-keratin found in bird feathers. This makes the protein strands of her feathers nearly identical to those of her actual hair (albeit with structural modifications), which is why their pigment is of the same dark hue-."

Michael, seeing that she was beginning to ramble, interrupted her as politely as he could manage. "While this is all very intriguing, what does it have to do with Cassandra's inability to survive childbirth?"

She gave him a sour look, and hissed, "It'ssignificantbecause with this body structure, giving birth to live young will be difficult at best for her. She is simply not built for the stress of childbirth, not with that narrow, thin pelvis and the strongest muscle mass in her chest rather than in her core. Worse is that those essential core muscles are completely marred: the ultrasound showed that she has extensive internal scarring in her uterus, probably from being kicked in fights, and the danger will be in placing duress on that damaged tissue - which childbirth will inevitably do - because if that scar tissue is placed under too much stress, it might tear open and she'll hemorrhage to death. She is a high-risk pregnancy case because her genetics were tinkered with andthensomeone else decided to beat on her! It's positivelyinfuriating…!"

Michael's brow furrowed, and placing his hands on her shoulders, he asked what he considered the most important question: "Wait, what do you mean, 'her genetics were tinkered with'? I was cleared to read Cassandra's pediatric files by the court, and while that theory did cross my mind, the records said she had been born with this mutation. She is fully human, is she not, or did you find something that suggested…?"

Aurora shook her head and said, "No, she is fully human, unlike her children - that was one of the first things I checked in the genetic analysis. I'm afraid I misspoke: whilehergenetics were not directly tampered with, someone in her family did have a mutation manually triggered, which, unfortunately for Cassandra, manifested in her. I circled the gene sequence on that file there: that code is, for the most part, almost always inactive in humans, save for in some extremely rare cases. When itisactive in a human, it usually acts as the source of psychical or elemental capabilities, or causes some very basic physical mutations. However, in these cases the code is only partially activated; in Cassandra's case, it is almost fully functional. Thanks to its influence, her entire framework has been elaborately altered, as if nature wanted to try to make a bird from a human base. In part, it succeeded: she can get airborne, although I daresay she glides for the most part, since physics are not on her side, but…," she sighed, "Michael, this isn't natural. The processes by which she and her children came aboutare, of course, but there are influences behind them that are well beyond the norm."

Laying the folder down onto the table by her now cold coffee, he asked, "Is that why you have folklore about angels in this file?"

She nodded. "Yes. After mulling this all over, I thought there might be some kernel of truth in those legends, and maybe there is. Perhaps this particular mutation has arisen in humans before, which might explain why in almost every ancient culture the myth of the winged man or woman arises. Had there been a pokémon with any similarities in shape, I might have dismissed it as that, as we do now with the tales of ancient monsters and demons. I know, of course, that these myths could simply be spawned from the human fascination with flight, but considering the versatility and unpredictability of nature, why couldn't evolution occasionally try out something new with primates? Why not give humans wings…?"

Placing a hand on her shoulder, her friend sighed and murmured, "Aurora, dear, you know that you're rambling now, right? Please tell me that you've slept recently, or I swear I'm dragging you to bed."

In response she stuck out the tip of her tongue at him, grabbed the folder from the counter, and began putting the files away. She pressed 'save' on the data analysis program on her computer, and then triggered the process of shutting the machine down. While she did so, Michael mused on the ideas she had proposed and upon what his superiors had begun to suggest must be done about the girl. On one hand, many thought she should be tried and executed for her crimes after the children were born (since, while "unnatural," they were also blameless), while others thought her a valuable source of information into the inner workings and personnel of Team Rocket, and so was not expendable. Still others thought a combination of the two was in order, to force the girl to tell them everything she knew and then do away with the ex-assassin. To those individuals, Michael had to remind them bluntly that they were not the bad guys, and so would not treat this woman, who regretted her crimes and had turned against Team Rocket, as the organization would one of them. He had, when appropriate, taken the position of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend," even though he too was wary of the woman he had believed, and might still believe, he hated. Her fate ultimately depended on the nature of her soul, and whether what she offered to the cause of light was greater than the work she had done for evil.

For that, they needed an impartial judge insured to be able to delve into the most intimate depths of Cassandra Bracken's being to see what she was: a victim made into an unwilling soldier, and hence not evil or wayward at core; or an evicted dog of Team Rocket's pseudo-military, as likely to snap at their hands as she was at those of the party that had once handled her. For this they required a powerful, skilled, and most importantly of all, atrustworthypsychic who could gain what they needed to know about the angel without raping her mind in the process. Fortunately, Saffron City was the home of a woman who fit that description perfectly, a woman who had provided her assistance in the past on difficult cases such as this one. Of course, there would be protests against the selection of this candidate, namely from those among the force who were more than a little prejudiced towards people of her kind….

Reaching over his friend's head, he turned the lamp illuminating the station off, took her arm, and told her, "They've requested that Sabrina Sheehy question her tomorrow. If she passes Sabrina's test, she will be released from that cell and placed under my protection once again. If not, for our safety and for the safety of the civilians, she will be kept imprisoned."

Aurora rolled her eyes in the dim. "Do your superiors really believe that this girl is a threat to anyone besides Team Rocket?"

"Well, they've never met her, have they? For all they know, she could be some elaborate mole, though I admit it hardly seems likely, not with her attitude. What I'm worried about is that they'll refuse to trust Sabrina's judgment."

The medic gave him a puzzled looked, and asked, "But why wouldn't they-?" And then the realization dawned on her, and she groaned, "Are youserious? The justice department would doubt an intelligent, reputable woman in our society because of her sexual preferences? Oh, honestly-!"

"Well, consider Cassandra's features: dark skin, darker hair, slender frame, perceptive, and certainly accepting of alternative forms of romance. They could theoretically claim that the Gym Leader was soft on her because she's Sabrina's type," jested Michael, rather more lightly than the situation warranted. However, he too knew this line of argument was absurd, and so in a more serious tone said, "But if they want to keep their jobs and their dignity, they won't doubt her. She will do her duty and divine what should be done, I am certain of that. Now, how about we get you to bed, Aurora? You need rest if you're going to fret over your favorite patients so intently."

She nodded reluctantly, and with that they walked out of her laboratory and ascended the stairway leading up into her home. Tomorrow, it seemed, would be a long day for all of them….

Stepping through the doors of the Pokémon Center around noon, the Witch of the Marshes greeted Doctor Joy and Detective Lagorio pleasantly before allowing them to direct her towards the confinement cell in the facility's basement, where the young woman she was to question currently dwelled. Vaguely, the psychic Gym Leader mused on why they were keeping the female in a chamber meant to hold rabid pokémon during their fits of disease, but surmised it was simply too much of a risk to move the woman beyond of the largely secured Center at this point in time. Perhaps, in the upcoming months, the location of this girl and her guards would vary to throw off Team Rocket's hounds, but for now law enforcement would much rather get a handle on the situation before daring to make plans on how to manage the addition of what was being termed a "volatile resource." Snorting at the notion quietly, Sabrina reached out her senses to get a fix on the female in question, while simultaneously splitting her consciousness so she could listen to the detective's briefing. She could only do this for a short period of time, but she wanted to have some idea of what she was dealing with on a metaphysical level rather than simply gleaning skeletal facts from talking with the police officer. What she found matched what the man told her, although she discovered, to her interest, that the woman herself had some limited psychic abilities, while her children, a small male and female, were absolutely brimming with potential power. Perhaps this was a part of the reason why she had been involved in this: if nothing else, these children eventually had to be taught how to control their abilities, and as she headed the finest psychic academy on the continent, she was the one to call on for assistance. However, the births of these children would not occur for another few months, so for now, she must concern herself with their young mother.

Detective Lagorio opened the door to the room and, at her request, locked her in with the girl. Sabrina could sense that, for the most part, the woman was benign, and did not seem to have the will presently to cause her any trouble. If she did begin to fight, the Gym Leader was confident that she could defend herself and subdue the other female, but she hoped that this interview, as she wished to think of it as, would not come to that. She knew, of course, that this session was being monitored, but she doubted, now that she knew the girl was a psychic herself, that there would be a great deal of vocal discussion for anyone to record. This would be done in the depths of their minds, and thus far, those plains could not truly be measured by technology, only explored and known through metaphysical means.

Yet Sabrina's heart softened somewhat as she watched the woman stir from her mat, noting that a hand immediately went to cover her belly, as if fearful that this new visitor might pose some form of danger to the unborn twins. Perhaps the other interrogators had attempted to play the "bad cop" role and use petty threats and insults to intimidate the expecting mother, and while Sabrina knew such methods would not work on this creature, she nonetheless found herself disapproving of them. Yet neither could she admit to being fond of the honeyed path, for sweet words and promises could prove just as destructive as brutality in the end, if not more so because of their deceptive nature. Instead the Witch of the Marshes preferred simple, calm, collected honesty; in more cases than not, it had led her to a fruitful session with the one she questioned.

It helped, of course, that her psychical abilities allowed her to sense truth and lies, and if she needed them to, allowed her to burrow into a soul by force to discover the golden roots of information she sought. However, she far preferred to have the consent of the subject; the process was less chaotic and abrasive that way. So, for a few minutes, she allowed Cassandra Bracken to assess her: long, black ivy hair; pale, unblemished skin; piercing, royal blue eyes; an official uniform of crimson and gold; all exuding her confidence in herself and a quiet, cool sort of power. Once, Cassandra had possessed similar attributes, but she found she did not mourn their loss, not when their absence meant she could display some warmth and humanity, both of which would be integral in providing her son and daughter with comfort. Eventually, Cassandra broke the silence and said, "I take it you are here to question me, Miss Sheehy?"

Sabrina nodded. "So you know who I am - I take it you weren't as concealed from the world as these people think you were?"

"Oh, I was," Cassandra said, and then clarified, "However, I was never kept oblivious to what was going on in the world, and your social and political shifts in the past few years did catch the attention of the man who was once my superior. He quite admired you, actually, and I daresay if he had not known of your preferences, he may have tried to court you. Sadly for him, you were off the market."

Sabrina was not certain if she should be flattered or relieved, but regardless, she replied, "I see. Yet to answer your first question, I am here to interrogate you, although I am not fond of the connotations of that word. I will not employ a great deal of verbal inquiry, as I find my methods of soul-searching are far more effective than toying with words. It will require me delving into your thoughts and memories, and my hope is that you will make this process easier on both of us by cooperating and acting as my guide. However, your consent is not necessary, merely preferable; I can overwhelm you if you attempt to fight me, and I will be able to sense your deception if you attempt to lie. Now I understand that you may wish to hide things from me; depending on their nature, I may not dredge them up. However, I am here to act as your judge, so if I deem the matter relevant, I will force it to the forefront of your thoughts whether you like it or not. In advance, I apologize for this, but it is the only sure way to prove whether you are benign or malignant to us. If you are the former, you will be freed; if not, you will stagnate here while your children are taken from you. As such, if you really are on our side as you would like us to believe, I would recommend you not conceal anything from me. That way, we can get through this quickly and with minimal discomfort."

What Sabrina Sheehy proposed was repellant to Cassandra, but as she folded her wings around herself in an open display of her uncertainty towards being so exposed, she understood that she had no choice. If she could prove to this woman that she was of no threat to the side of the light and the law, maybe her children and she had a hope of making it through this era of struggle intact. Maybe, if she could convince this woman of her remorse and her willingness to repent, she would have a chance to make a life with her son and daughter...

And so, with those hopes in mind, she accepted the Gym Leader's proposal with a nod. The other woman grinned, quite like Mewtwo once had when in a wicked mood, and she then leaned forward, announcing the beginning of the trial with three little words:

"Then let's begin."

Outside, above the earth, the sun had risen to the summit of the sky; beneath its glare, there were no shadows.

Author's Note:Please review if you would be so kind. That being said, let me add some notes about this chapter, beginning with this ending scene: there was supposed to be a western sort of feel to it, which is meant to be evidenced by the timing of "high noon" – that, and the lack of shadows is supposed to reflect back on the notion in this story that shadows meant secrecy, and secrecy meant safety. Essentially, Sabrina Sheehy (last name meaning "mysterious, eerie") will be striping away Cassandra's exterior to find out what's underneath. This, I thought, was the best place to break the chapter, both to keep the information onslaughts separate and to increase tension. Whether that worked well or not will be something you will need to decide.

Concerning the character of Sabrina herself, she will not play a huge role inAngelic Shadows, but the role she will play will be significant enough. As most of you probably know, I absolutely adore her character, and love to pair her up with Mewtwo in my stories. Obviously, that is not an option here, and to stress that impossibility she is, in this story, homosexual. I also have other reasons for doing this, namely to connect her to one of the other new characters (another minor one, but she gives me warm and fuzzy feelings), but also because I think it offers an interesting, and entirely plausible, angle to her character. At least in the anime, she shows no signs of preferring one sex or the other…yet at any rate, while I may focus a bit on this subject in the story itself, let me stress that the story is still about Cassandra, Mewtwo, and now their children too. I sometimes will focus on the others to add depth and alternative perspectives, but in the end, the focus will be on the couple and their family.

In regards to Cassandra's body structure – I am fairly sure what I described does not contradict anything I have already written before this. If it does, show me where that conflict is so I can fix it. Also, I confess that I blatantly ripped off that description from James Patterson'sWhen The Wind Blows(although there were modifications). As for the wingspan, there was once a giant bird which had a twenty-three foot wingspan, and current day albatrosses can reach eleven feet, so don't even start with me on the improbability of that size. The rest you could probably pick at if you so pleased, but I did try to make it as believable and clear as possible. As for the children themselves, let me stress that they are not Mary Sue babies. They are genetically ideal, but as characters they will have their flaws, just as their parents do. As for the notion of pokémon litters, I will point you toMewtwo Returnswhere this idea is verified by the clone children: they can take after both parents, not just the mother as is typically the case in the games.

Concerning that genetic mixing, understand that I am talking about different species, not different races (despite that I was using the terms interchangeably). I realized while I was revising that section that it may, if taken through a certain lens, resemble the human anti-racial mixing ideology, which was not my intention in the least. The difference here is that I am discussing different species of animals having offspring together; humans are all of one species, so racial mixing amongst ourselves will never have the same kind of consequences that we see in nature concerning hybrid populations. I just want to make my meaning quite clear on that point.

Finally, regarding the dream scene: this plays a lot on the "Song of Songs" setting and sentimentality (if you all have not read this by now, I would recommend it, if only for insight into the references here). Mewtwo's pet name, which Cassandra only uses in extremely rare cases – the name "Ziv" – means "gazelle," "radiant," and "the second month" in Hebrew. The first is a sort of dovetail with Mewtwo's pet name for her; the second is self-explanatory; while the last may, if we use our calendar, refer to the month of Mewtwo's birth. That, and it gave me a sort of omega feel to it, which corresponds with Mewtwo's character in general. We may see the name only once or twice in the future, since I find myself loath to abuse it through overuse…plus, I feel like I'm being intrusive into the scene when I have Cassandra say it. I'm not sure why this is, but it may be because, unlike with Mewtwo, who uses his pet name for her far more openly and frequently, Cassandra only does this when she's feeling especially tender and vulnerable. As such, I feel rather awkward when I write a scene where she says it, as if I am invading something extremely private between them, something farmoreintimate than simply when they are in bed together.

What can I say…? After having them in my brain for years, and after telling their tale for years, their characters have become like living, breathing people to me. Sure, they are fictional, but they have meaning and depth to me – I guess I'm crazy in that way (laughs).

At any rate, enough of my rambling! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that you have a good evening.

Sincerely,

WiseAbsol