I don't think we'll recover.

When going through a portal, you don't see the person in front of you. It's the same opaque light every time, only a different colour's surrounding you. You can barely see yourself, even if you can still call your body yours. Anyway, you can't see the person in front of you. You can't see how they act when they're truly alone for the first time in days. You can't tell how they feel, or if they're still thinking about something they said in the last level.

So, everything was normal on the portal ride. I couldn't see Lola and she couldn't see me, for a brief minute.

Everything was going on as normal considering... things that had happened. It was an odd balance of emotion, to be honest. We'd finally settled on as stable a present as we could get, then... death. That was a hurdle. And finally, Lola's confession. To say that life had been a roller coaster lately would've been a grave understatement.

Sure, Lola was definitely pretty as a human, but did that mean I wanted a relationship in a terrifying, warped version of Mystery Dungeon? All the more, would I— or she— have any interest if we weren't? Maybe it was just the adrenaline, or maybe it really was because we'd gotten closer, or maybe—

I guess holding her hand would be nice.

I blushed at the thought. Shoot. I really was into it. I was becoming a complete disaster and no one was stopping me. Hopefully I'd stop being a blushy mess before exiting the portal. Being embarrassed over something so… so… dorky? Ew. That broke my personal record.

I suddenly felt the portal thin out. It was always like everything was a little lighter just before going outside, even the air in my lungs. I braced myself because I'd grown to really dislike the feeling of emerging back out. It was a prickle that stuck to the skin like octopus suckers.

My feet touched dry land, followed shortly by my front paws. Instantly, a different mood clicked in. I was in a thin hallway with yellow walls littered with panels and buttons. The ceiling was high and the floor cold. The lights flickered and the wind howled somewhere outside.

"Wind?" I asked aloud.

I couldn't see any windows. At this volume, I'd guess we were pretty high up. I touched the wall, feeling the thrum of machinery lying behind the surface. I heard it too, the sound oddly foreign. I hadn't heard the buzz of light bulbs and computers in a while. At least, any staticky sound not coming from me. Why did I feel more machine than person, all of a sudden?

"Gab?" I'd heard from the hallway. Micheal!

I raised my hand. "Present!" Ew, why'd I do that?

Looking down the corridor, I saw the rest of the team had spawned. I straightened my backpack straps, rolled my shoulders, and joined the pack. The berries inside jostled something fierce, and my back already ached from walking on the hard floor. A mountain last level, and then this? No spines allowed for us.

When I emerged from the narrow hallway, I was greeted with a weirdly familiar, wide room. The walls and floor in there were that same faded yellow as the hallway, and while the surface spanning the ground was tiled, the walls had wires, buttons, panels— the works. In the back, I even saw a set of cafeteria tables! Yeah, they were huge compared to myself now, but I could pretend things were normal for a second. Every now and then, some motor turned on or off, giving texture to the thrumming sound surrounding us. I hadn't even finished the roll call in my head when someone started talking at me.

Litleo— Micheal, Meditite— Valérie, Swablu— Chloe, Lola—

"Electric," Kieran— the Beedrill— grunted. He was squinting at one the more dangerous-looking panels, with a big bright lightning bolt symbol slapped on it.

The Absol close by let out a cackle. "Ha! You sure? It looks real subtle to me."

"Lola," Micheal warned. There was a weird atmosphere in the air. I realized it was the combined powers of the adrenaline from the Aerodactyl fight, and the absurdity of seeing technology here. No one had any filter or hurt right now. Our autopilot while everyone was dissociating had blossomed into cracking jokes at every corner. Weirdly, the more stressed I was, the less my social anxiety affected me. And I took sertraline for that. Who knew the cure-all was being freaking terrified all the time? It felt like we were all high. Like in the movies. Micheal wrinkled his nose and shook out his whiskers. "Smells awful in here."

"What?" Chloe stopped preening her feathers. "I don't smell it."

Kieran elbowed her gently. "You're a bird," he whispered.

I crossed my arms and scowled. "You're a bug."

"Got nostrils somewhere," he muttered. What kind of a comeback was that?

"What in the hell do you even mean—"

Micheal coughed. He cocked his head at me. Oh, yeah, I was an Emolga. I was pretty sure flying squirrels were supposed to have a good sense of smell. More than the average person—or bee— anyway. I gave it a whiff. I didn't pick up on much, just some hints of copper and smokiness somewhere. The latter didn't worry me because it was more like, uh— tangy? More food than smoke. The air was just a little humid, just enough to make it warmer, but it wasn't heavy. The floor wasn't warm either. Steam, or storm weather. I shrugged and shook my head at Micheal. What did he smell? The hints of ozone? The vague, gleeful reminders of the start of summer vacation at the computer lab? Maybe the storm outside was just set dressing for the electricity level, I thought.

Lola sniffed the air and sat down against a wall. "Uh… I don't smell much either."

"Valérie?" Micheal groaned like aloser. Hah. Got him. Did Meditite even have noses? But looking side to side, he couldn't locate her. At his genuine confusion, I also noticed she wasn't with us anymore. Where—

"Aeough!" Smack!

The tables.

On the very opposite side of the room, caught in-between the metal bars of at least three chairs and two tables, was a blue and gray Pokémon who had instinctively leaned forward on the table but was too darn short to support her weight on it, thus taking a spectacular stumble of flips and chair collisions. I hadn't seen how she'd gotten tangled up like that, and that was almost funnier. How the hell did that even happen, girl?

God. She was so short. How puny we all were. Freaking hilarious.

Kieran barked out the first laugh. Then Chloe cackled like a hyena.Chloe. At that point, bee boy was trying to muffle his laughter with a stinger in front of his mouth. Valérie, still stuck, started to straight up guffaw. Then, like a choir— as if we'd rehearsed this— everyone was losing it laughing. I myself almost keeled over. Man, when I loosened up, I didn't think slower. I thought the same amount of thoughts a minute, but just stupid. So stupid. I was wheezing with tears in my eyes from how hard I'd laughed at that by the time we'd calmed down. Being Pokémon was rough, and sometimes, we needed the ritualistic commiserating laugh. We were there in intimacy as a group.

Anyway, a few minutes later, we were sat at the tables. Only Kieran and Lola were tall enough to sit on the chairs, while us lowly shorties were on the table itself. I played the gravy train, passing berries to everyone who wanted dinner (it was everyone).

Micheal cleared his throat. "So. The boss," he brought up. "That guess was spot on last time. Like, we nailed it down to the exact Pokémon. What're we thinking for this one? Obviously an Electric type."

"Obviously," Kieran said. "Uh… this whole place screams robots. Could be Magnemite, or Voltorb?"

"We haven't seen any dupes," Chloe commented.

Valérie chewed on a Cheri berry. "Kieran," she pointed.

The Beedrill scowled. "She means duplicates, jerk. We haven't seen two of the same Pokémon."

"Uh— wait," Micheal said. "Fire level. The two slugs?"

I finally sat down with an Oran berry to eat. "Slugma and Magcargo. They're in the same family, but they count as different species here, maybe."

"Different Pokédex numbers," Kieran muttered.

I shrugged and exchanged a nonplussed look with Chloe. It kind of helped us to know that we wouldn't run into some bosses again, but there were so many other Pokémon left over that it wasn't really of any use.

"I guess that's just a start, then," Chloe sighed, shaking out her feathers. She looked like a pompom. "Electric. Let's see, um… they're only weak against Ground types."

Lola turned to me, having inhaled her berry already. "I thought Ground moves didn't affect you."

Kieran was quick to correct her. "Emolga's also a Flying type. She has immunity."

"What's good against you, then? Rocks?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. The rock fight we just came from. Thanks."

Her head swung up to look at the details on the wall. Wow, wires sure were interesting to her right this second. Crap. I realized I made her think ofthat. My brain scrambled for a way to save face whilst not letting the secret out to the others.

"We're gonna have some words on next watch shift," I declared, jokingly solemn. I shook my head and fluttered my eyelids closed for emphasis.

Valérie crunched on another berry. "Y'all better not be having a Dark Trap meeting."


We scouted the rest of the day until we finally spotted a window. Heck, in this room, a few corridors away from the room with the tables, we'd found a map. It was one of those diagrams reminiscent of a subway; all black lines and dots, but unfortunately the signage was unreadable. Trying to make sense of the symbols delineating the "stops" gave me a headache. However, putting our brains together, we did figure out the dots were rooms, and the lines hallways. There was a little white light on one of those dots, which we'd deduced was the "you are here" indicator. Bingo.

"Toronto," Valérie shuddered disdainfully. We'd all been there at some point. We knew.

Chloe shook her head. "Hey, at least subway cars have the time on them."

She looked to the window, and we got the message. The outside— if it really was the outside, and not a projection— was dark and covered with clouds. It took a good eye for storms to tell if it was day or night, and I most definitely did not have that. The building we were in didn't glow from the outside, but there was light pouring out of this room because of the yellow fluorescent bulbs affixed to the ceiling. I'd have to take that into account to judge the time of day if things cleared up.

We were sat at a yellow bench bolted to the wall, making us look like an oddball sitcom cast. It reminded me of cheap photo-ops at fast food places, the ones you'd find inside another store at the mall. While sitting, I focused on the rate at which the light bulbs flickered, and how (or whether) it correlated with the occasional flash of lightning. I was calibrating my settings.

"Wait—yo," Kieran exclaimed. "I found a light switch."

Click. Instant darkness.

"Kieran!" Micheal scolded. With another click, the lights were back on, and we all glared at the Beedrill. Micheal groaned. "That could've been anything other than a light switch."

Kieran shrugged. "Oh no. Could it be a boss battle, then? A trap door? The history test?"

His sarcasm was getting way too glib for my taste. Yeah, Kieran, we were worried about exactly that! Except the history test. Well, if I had to be completely honest, taking a history test after our substitute teacher had died wasn't appealing. I didn't know if I could do it without crying.

Valérie sighed and crossed her arms. "If it ain't a PowerPoint where I'm teamed up with you, I can take it."

"Guys…" Micheal protested. His ears drooped, but his tail lashed about. God, it had to be so exhausting to be the mom friend in this group.

Kieran ignored him. "Val, you're gonna come at me when I am injured?" He rolled his shoulder for dramatic effect. That Aerodactyl did get a hit on him, but he was definitely exaggerating. "I'm in so much pain," he added, with no acting prowess whatsoever.

Lola snickered. "Put an Oran in it, then!" Yeah, they were basically sweet and sour painkillers.

"Guys." Another Litleo interjection.

"Why can't we be friends," Chloe sang over the playful squabbling. "Why can't weeee be friends?"

Micheal snapped. "Do you guys need a nap?!"

I stretched, sore shoulders straining against the backpack straps, then I stifled a yawn. "I mean… it feels like night, right? Might as well call it.

"Might as well," he echoed. "Where are we setting up?"

Valérie had an answer. "The tables."

The tables.

"I say it's bedtime if we can make a chair and table fortress," Valérie continued.

"Like the June rebellion," Chloe nodded sagely. Yeah. I didn't know what that was about either. I just knew we were heading back, and that was enough for me. I could stand the constant hum of electronics at night if it meant shelter.

Setting up under the tables felt a bit like summer camp. We didn't have pillows or blankets to share, though, unless I counted my backpack— and classmates. Speaking of, I had to find a way for Lola and I to get the first watch shift without anyone getting wise to the reason why we needed to talk. It was a subtle thing, something I'd have to put the wall up for if I didn't want anyone to suspect anything. Not that I was ashamed of having a relationship, but I didn't want to draw attention to me before Lola and I had decided on a choice. I opened my mouth—

"We call first shift!" Lola shouted way too fast. Oh my God. I was attracted to that?

I resisted the urge to shoot her a wide-eyed glare. Subtlety was not her forte, nor even her pianissimo. Nothing about her was ever fifty percent, was it? Although I'd stopped the glare from coming through, my head swivelled in her direction like it was a piston-powered corkscrew.

"You. Me. Words," she barked. Oh my God. She didn't notice.

"Mmf," came Valérie's reply. Her little chortle time was muffled by her arms and the floor, the Meditite having taken to sleeping on her stomach with her arms crossed to support her head.

I was so mortified that I kept getting flashbacks to some poor embarrassed freshman dropping a fork in the cafeteria. How did everyone always hear that? With all the raucous sound of heavy footsteps, the back-and-forth of students hauling their backpacks over to their tables, gross eating noises, and the chatter of hundreds of kids ready to judge you… how?! Without the safety of my lunch friend group after it'd fallen apart, I just couldn't go back. I didn't want to be focused on ever. I mean, I supposed I had to be perceived if I wanted to talk things out with Lola. I was half of that potential relationship, after all.

There we were, on the opposite side of the room with our backs to the hallway wall. It gave Lola and I a good vantage point for everything: the others and… the other others. On either side, the hall spanned far enough that we had time to act if a boss Pokémon came after us. Forward, about ten meters away, the room ended and the rest of our little pack slept. For once, I hoped it was heavy sleep.

"So, do you really want us to be girlfriends?" I asked. I expected my voice to crack somewhere in there, but it came out smoothly enough.

There was a bit of a pause as Lola stared at the wall behind us. It was a stare that could go through all solid surfaces. Either she'd gained X-ray vision, or it took that far of a stare to visualize how we'd been in school. Enough to remember my face.

"Yeah, I do," she finally answered.

"... okay, so do I!" I laughed nervously, shrugging to the high heavens.

"But, like…" Lola dodged around, "what about the others?"

Shoot. She'd played on a deep-seated fear of mine and it wasn't even on purpose. Perception. God, why did I have to be perceived?

"Do we hide it?" she mumbled. "We can save dating for Earth."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. This was disappointing. "Going to Earth will be the easy part. They're always here."

It was weird for Lola to propose secrecy. After all, wasn't I supposed to be the discrete one? Deep down, I agreed with her point, but I also had to admit that she wasn't the same as before. She'd changed a lot since we'd dropped into the Smeargle level. Surely I was involved in some way.

Wait, no, it totally revolves around her fervent fanfic reading.

That would explain the sudden want for convoluted excuses. Seriously? Here? Did it even matter? We had four other classmates that almost never left our side by virtue of all of us being stuck in Pokémon hell for almost a month and a half. It was only a matter of time before it slipped, and other than slight embarrassment there was no downside to telling them.

But slight embarrassment was my middle name, and I did not like using my middle name.


A/N: no I'm not late for the Christmas episode, YOU'RE late for the Christmas episode