Brand new day: brand new awkwardness. I think I was overcompensating for the day before and acted as robotic as I could next to Lola. My girlfriend. I hadn't gotten much sleep, but felt well-rested. No, most of my night was spent trying to play it cool. I'd laid flat on my back under the table fort, ignoring the whispers from Valérie and Chloe when it was their turn on the last watch shift. I couldn't make out what they were talking about anyway. Staring at the ceiling, I'd been contemplating the smorgasbord of thoughts running amuck in my head.
I had a girlfriend, and she was cute?! How the hell did that even happen? Was it really that easy all along? Honestly, I felt a bit of shame over Lola making the first move. Not because I wanted to, but because… I mean, why was she the one who felt like she needed to ask? I wasn't much to look at, and all I added to conversations was downers. Couldn't forget the tiny spark of catholic guilt, either. It wasn't nearly enough to question the morality of me being gay—God, glad I'd gotten that over with— but the guilt was more subtle. I wasn't supposed to be happy. If I was, what was all my whining for?
Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Some time later, it was time for breakfast and were on that cafeteria table again. My elbows were cramping up from supporting my head while I lay on my stomach. Emolga bodies were just plain achy when it came to anything other than curling up or flying. I'd chosen a few Cheri berries for breakfast, welcoming a tingling, zingy spiciness that went perfectly with the signature cherry flavour. It warmed my stomach a little and eased my morning nervousness. Other distractions helped too.
"Bees can smell!" Kieran was arguing. Huh. Still on that.
Valérie chewed at the stem from a Bluk berry. "Yeah, they can smell bad," she teased, bags large under her eyes.
Kieran sputtered. "Wow. Anyway, I'll have you know I can smell things better here than I could at home as a human."
"Sad," Valérie bemoaned, and threw the Bluk stem at him. It bounced off his forehead.
Chloe, who was also from the same watch shift as her, looked far more like a morning person. Er, morning bird. Getting the worm. "Actually, bees have some of the most sensitive smell receptors, or something. They're, like, ten thousand times better at it than people. They're better than bloodhounds."
Huh? Colour me surprised.
Lola popped in. Her forelegs rested lazily on the table, splattered on there, encasing a face smooshed on the metal. "Hey. Kieran's a big bee. And he's got just the two arms."
Kieran scoffed. "Just the two arms—"
"Maybe you don't have a good nose either, that's all I'm saying."
"What animal even are you?" He growled. "Dog? Bobcat?"
"Anime wolf," Lola grinned, and I snorted. Any more of a giggle, and I'd sound like a love-struck valley girl. Get a grip, Gab!
"Micheal's a lion," Kieran pointed at the Litleo, who looked just as tired as Valérie. "No one gives him crap asking if he can do lion things."
Micheal yawned, fangs glinting against the fluorescent bulbs. "So far, this Litleo is vegan," he told Kieran. "I got the claws and tail to show for the lion part, but I've also only eaten berries and I feel fine. Lions are carnivores. Something's weird."
"Something's weird," I echoed. "Yeah. I'll say."
A quiet laugh was passed around the table, and then I knew no one had taken anything in this conversation harshly, even Kieran. All that happened was friendly banter. It almost made me wish I'd let myself participate more.
But it couldn't have been my addition that made them laugh, could it? No, I was deluding myself.
Couldn't be.
As we walked further in, my fingers hovered on the walls, tip-tapping at my leisure. If the sound bothered anyone, they didn't bring it up. I told myself to get a grip. Any more comfortable, and I'd start singing whenever. Ew.
It was a few minutes past the light-up map that I noticed an inconsistency in the walls. I let myself slow down—after all, the group was only a few paces before me, and Lola tended to check on me if I lagged behind (because we were dating! Agh! Someone, shake me awake). Something caught my eye, and I jerked my hand back before it reached that section. My head spun to my right, to a part of the wall without panels, bolts, or wires. I squinted. No greeble texture either in that spot. It almost gave it a shimmer against the rest of the hallway. I took slow steps toward it.
I remembered Chloe and Kieran's warning about out-of-bounds areas. We'd used them to our advantage, though, right? The backpack in the Flying level kept looping around from top to bottom over and over again. Then, we'd used Pac-Man logic to defeat the Phantump back in the Grass level, throwing its own attack at it. Distracting myself from the eerie feeling of calling a person "it," I focused back on the out-of-bounds concept. If we hadn't run into any problems whatsoever, why'd Chloe and Kieran get a shared vision so bad that it scarred them into secrecy? Yet, if it didn't make sense, did that mean a person sent it and the meaning got misconstrued?
Either way, I wasn't too worried about investigating the glitch. Uncharacteristic, I know, but when even my hyperactive, stressed out brain couldn't latch on dangers to fear, safe to say I could test it out.
Something was… off. I couldn't tell how for the life of me, but that portion of the wall felt less intense— less cloying?— less claustrophobic? I decided to look closer and only found more things with which to be gobsmacked. It was almost eerie. I could see the wall fine, but from certain angles, it looked transparent. It was like I could see the inside of the block in those moments instead of the outside, if that makes any sense. A multidimensional magic-eye poster.
Against all human instinct, I put my hand against it, and it went through. If felt weird and tingly, like a bunch of tiny static shocks. Whether I was protected by my Electric typing or it was just a weird prickly place for everyone… I didn't know.
"Woah," Kieran said, approaching from behind me. "You can clip through that?" I shot him a glare. He threw his stingers in the air. "No offense! I didn't think of the Electric typing. Slipped my mind."
I exhaled. Clearly, that hadn't been an intentional dig. Well, I had to snap out of my morning crankiness sometime.
"None taken," I scratched my head, pulling my hand out of the wall. Fortunately, it hadn't disappeared or teleported itself to another spot on the map. Was it an out-of-bounds area or a glitch? I turned to Kieran. "I was thinking about my typing too. You think it's a bug or a feature?"
"If I can get through, we can call it a bug," the Bug-type said.
"Ha." Dry as the desert.
He put his stinger against the wall, but although it was needle-shaped, it couldn't pierce through. He tried different angles and everything, but no luck. Huh. I guessed it was an Electric-type thing after all. This… didn't make me hopeful for the end of the level.
I sighed. "Okay, so the boss Pokémon is going to be an Electric-type."
"Right," Kieran affirmed.
"I'm an Electric-type, and I can pass through some of the walls."
"Mm-hm."
"The boss is outside. Waiting."
A cough. Kieran and I turned around. Turned out the wall was so interesting it warranted a full classmate review. Valérie tried the wall next, punching it and rubbing her knuckles after. The rest were a lot more careful. Micheal couldn't put a paw in it either, nor could Lola. Chloe's turn was more of a demonstration of how much the glitch rejected. Her wing couldn't clip into the brick, but neither could her feathers, so they were smooshed perpendicularly to the translucent facade just like those pictures of cats laying on a glass table.
"So, yeah," Chloe said, "looks like it's only Electric-types."
Micheal cleared his throat. "That doesn't seem fair."
"Nothing here has been fair!" Valérie growled.
Lola blew a puff of air at the hair tuft that hung over half her face. She'd been quiet for a bit, which meant she took this somewhat seriously. It was bordering on avoiding the conversation, though, which made me more worried. "Hey, we're not done exploring," she shrugged, "and we still need to find food and water here."
For the first time, I noticed other people had started caring about her shifts in mood. If she lowered her voice and snapped out of her jokey daze, everyone here paid attention. She'd grown on them. On me. We watched out for our friend.
"Sorry," I interrupted some moments later, "I spaced out. Can you say that again?"
She grinned, and brought a paw to her chest. "Ah, yes, my word as the Dark Trap prophet is important! It must be understood."
Valérie groaned and went to lean on the opposite wall. Lola was back, and she'd lost the Meditite. Kieran sat his bug butt down next to her. All Micheal did was bow his head. Seemed everyone other than me treated Lola like the beloved but weird aunt at the family gathering, and they were settling down for a long rant. If there was concern, of course they'd listen. But sometimes, she just did not read the room, thinking jokes were ranked by how exasperated the audience looked. Even Chloe looked a bit lost as to what to do, and her Swablu doe-eyes didn't betray a single thought.
"Yes, yes," I answered, hoping to save Lola. "Lay upon the blessed yellow halls your sermon."
She chuckled at my subsequent bow. "I decree that this trap is too light! The enemy. A Bright Casket!"
Kieran coughed. "It's a glitch. It ain't that deep."
"One must never venture there," the Absol shook her head. "It is a sin."
"A Commandment?" I proposed.
Her eyes lit up. "Yeah, now, it is! Commandment, uh… um—"
Chloe hopped on her feet. "Nine."
"Nine! Wait, really?!" She looked down at the Swablu. "Oh. Oh, I've been doling those out willy-nilly."
I pointed to the wall of the hour, making as wide a gesture as I could. "Commandment nine: Don't go through glitches! It's gross."
"It's gross," Micheal sighed a heavy sigh, the Litleo's eyes fixed to the ceiling.
Having mock-decided we wouldn't concern ourselves with the glitchy wall for now, we kept walking, slowly and without a care. Hey, we had our fun the way we could. Lola was right that we weren't done exploring anyway. Even then, the hum-and-thrum of electricity called me back to that mysterious spot. I couldn't help thinking about it, and whether I could use it to our advantage.
Compared to the first level, I had a much better handle on my temporary electric powers. Similar to figuring out Flash back in the first level, it just took some tests, trying out muscles and nerves, plus their underlying foundations. Backwards engineering. Pokémon moves worked differently than… I don't know, Pokémon quirks? When a move was used, it was like using a cheat code, or a long combo in a fighting game. If you knew the combination, you were set, and the magic spell was automatic. Anything that wasn't, though? Tough luck. If you missed a button in the sequence? Shoot. You were now stuck on a lowering rock platform without Quick Attack. Stretching my arm was not a move. If I were something with a way weirder body structure, like a Sigilyph, it would take ages before I'd be able to make a tentative twitch. Boohoo.
The real horror of this place kept slapping me in the face. I was used to it constantly bubbling up, and now that my squad laughed at absurd danger, it was even getting easy to let it out. The lighting in this level reminded me of a classroom with no windows, which added to that…off sense of security, of solidarity. At moments, I felt so calm that I started to get afraid again. Afraid that it'd be taken away.
The next room was wide open, tall metal panels making way to an arching skylight. Halogen bulbs were encrusted into the borders between the walls and the ceiling, the glare presenting the window as more of a mirror rather than something you'd look out from. From my viewpoint, it almost looked grainy.
The rest of the room had more amenities that had been dearly missed by us. On a counter: a coffeemaker— embedded in a shelf, an oven. In an alcove, I saw a rectangular object with a metallic, coppery sheen.
"We have a fridge?" Lola exclaimed.
Oh yes. Oh yes, oh YES!
I zoomed to the fridge. Nothing could stop me from getting cold food after a month and a half of room temperature berries. I heard the oh-so-familiar hum as the fridge fanned out any warmth from inside its confines. Once I'd landed, I stayed glued to the door handle like a magnet. Another rumble, and my heart skipped a beat as I realized there was an ice maker. Not only that, but it was a smart fridge! My family had never owned one, my dad not bothering with "the government spies"— jokingly, I hoped. Still perched on the handle, I realized the fridge had a touchscreen, and that was where the controls and settings were inputted.
Seeing a touchscreen again was surreal. I hadn't thought about my phone in a surprisingly long while, and I briefly wondered if Emolga paws would register on the screen. The fridge had the works: weather forecasts, ice maker settings, and a digital clock! The weather was predictably an ongoing thunderstorm with no signs of stopping, but strangely enough, there was no precipitation warning. Dry lightning it was, then. The outside must've been hot. I glanced at the time.
… 8:20? I could've sworn it had displayed another time when I'd first seen it. Like, a very different time, not a minute switching a number over. I slammed my hand on the ice maker button. Questions were for later.
"Anyone want ice?" I asked.
Lola looked at me weird. "Without a cup? No water?"
I didn't understand why that was a difficult concept. Didn't everyone crunch on ice chips, or know someone who did? I was so baffled by this question that I forgot to be embarrassed over being the odd one out.
I checked the settings. "I don't see cups, but there's a water dispenser."
"Nice!" Lola stood on her hind legs, forelegs against the fridge to support her. "Hit me."
I snorted. Damn it— if I didn't have this fuzz all over my face, it would be PEI dirt red, which was super red, by the way, fun fact, and my chest was all warm and—agh! Quick, Gab, save the moment, give the girl you're totally cool about some water. I found the droplet icon somewhere, and when I held it, the dispenser began to drip. What was this? Water breaks in kindergarten?
I looked back to the other four Pokémon standing around. "Anyone else? While I'm up here we might as well line up."
Lola got her head out from the cabinet, half her face wet. "Distilled! A fine vintage."
I kept an eye on the clock as everyone took their turn. It kept fizzing and getting staticky whenever someone got close to it, before settling down with one clear displayed time. 8:20 for Lola and I, but Kieran's was 9:24. Everyone else had something in the middle. When I tried again… 8:21. Everyone else's numbers followed suit, meaning that the clock kept a consistent pace, but something about us linked it to different timezone settings. Maybe it was influenced by when we'd spawned in the first dungeon, way back when?
I crunched an ice chip the fridge had dispensed, not caring whatsoever about the painful chill against my teeth. Who decided tooth sensitivity traveled over when someone turns into a flying squirrel? That was just unfair. Woe was I, I know. Meanwhile, everyone had set to explore the other kitchen drawers, which were notably made out of wood. Valérie pried open the door on the right to inspect the fridge's contents. I supposed I must've been perched on the freezer half.
"There's, like, eggs," Valérie announced. "And milk and butter. We can bake!"
"Yeah, there's pots and pans in here, I guess," Kieran said from behind an open cupboard door. "Is the food in there safe?"
"Have we ever eaten something poisonous here?" Michael asked. Huh. No, I guessed we hadn't. Still, the familiar foodstuffs were oddly more dangerous than Pokémon berries had been. Say what you want about eating Oran berries every day, at least you didn't risk salmonella.
Valérie smirked, taking out the egg carton. "If you're so worried about things being expired, why don't you put that bee nose to use?"
"Piss off," Kieran muttered.
Chloe piped up. "We can also put eggs in a bowl of cold water. If they float, they're bad, you know? We could take the coffeemaker—"
Valérie cut her off. "Oh! Yeah, let's make coffee!"
"I don't think that's a good idea," Micheal warned. Coward.
Either way, Chloe flew to the counter to examine the appliances. A "wow" here and a "ooh" there, and the bird kept us in suspense at what she was looking at. If I had to guess, it could've been either something useful, or something that was bigger now that she was a Swablu. That was everything.
"There's a candy thermometer!" She exclaimed.
"You don't—" Lola blinked, then coughed. Her big red eyes scanned the group. "I'm being one thousand percent serious, genuinely… but you don't think we have to cook in this level, do you? There's no way."
"Like what, a cake?" I suggested. "I'd rather do that than walk the hedge maze. Unless it's Funfetti."
"Snob."
"I like my sweet and sour!" I defended myself. "Cheesecake's good."
"Ooh, with chocolate."
"Only if there's a little raspberry sauce with it."
She nodded. "Whipped cream on top, one or two whole raspberries, some of those swirly sugar things?"
"Yes!"
"Mm-hm, with god damn rose petals?" Kieran retorted.
And we snapped out of it. All the woozy reverie slammed down at the bottom of my stomach, heavy and shameful. Suddenly, I was very aware everyone had homed in on that exchange. Kieran, what did you mean by that?
"Okay, cut the crap, already," Valérie groaned with an eye roll. "We know you're dating."
"What?!" Chloe gasped from out of my view, but her nervous laugh told me she'd known too.
"Um," I stammered out, not strong enough to add anything to it. My eye shot to Lola, who was a complete deer in the headlights. Fat help either of us were! Oh, god. Oh,god!
"How?" Lola said, stare fixed on the fridge, but not where I was clutching the handle with the might of all my anxiety.
"Lola, you were friggin' screaming it for the world to hear," Valérie revealed.Crap. Yeah, go figure, a confession in an echoey chamber was loud and clear to others also in the chamber. "We had to know what she said to answer you last night. Sorry."
I tried to hide my cringing. "You all heard it."
"It's not a big deal, I kind of thought you already were dating," Micheal mumbled. What. Why'd I have to be known and thought about?
"Cat's out of the bag," Chloe added quietly. I appreciated the attempt at levity.
"And it's not Micheal," Kieran retorted, crossing his arms. Nope, the conversation was back to the topic of us. Okay, screw you, then! No one else seemed ready to say anything, not even to counter one of the lamest jokes I'd ever heard. Lola didn't try to change the subject, even though Kieran's rotten pun was ripe for the picking. Amazing shield she was when flustered.
"Chloe? The coffee?" I reminded her. There was some skittering on the counter, then her beak popped over the edge.
"Oh, um, yeah. I found some beans and filters."
"Filters," Valérie cocked her head. It wasn't Tim's, but it was better than instant coffee. Hell, a lot of things were probably better than Tim's anyway. Did anyone actually even like their coffee?
"There's a sink for the water, but I didn't find an outlet," Chloe continued. "Oh. That's a problem."
Now everyone was staring at me again, but for a different reason. I rolled my shoulders and stretched a little. Then I glided to the floor. "Val, boost me."
She obliged, and I landed on the counter with a few inches to spare. Valérie was getting really precise at throwing people as a Meditite. I couldn't picture where that skill would become important again, but I supposed she would never lose a carnival game from now on. I set to work, placing my paw on the coffeemaker's plug to investigate.
Electricity was weird as a sixth sense. Going off my own shock attacks as a base, I could tell the same tension that was in my cheek pouches was also in the walls. All I needed was a little focus, and I could place exactly where the voltage was coming from. I was safe from static shocks for a while, I'd figured, since I'd be alerted to any energy imbalances around me. It was a small blessing. I'd take it. But— my God— it was so close in feeling to my anxiety that it almost made me sweat. Through the walls, metal tables, floor, it was unavoidable and always building. Lola wasn't the only one dealing with a new brand of sight. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the path my current would have to go through.
Kieran had flown to the counter and started to pour water into the coffeemaker, and Valérie threw some paper cups she'd scrounged up. One of them hit me between the eyes. "Ow."
"My bad."
Looking down, Micheal must've been in the cupboards because I couldn't see him anywhere, but he was mumbling to himself. Lola had sat down and was looking away— not staring into infinity, just avoiding eye contact, her gaze tired. Yeah, we were embarrassed, but at the end of the day, all we had to face was our classmates who'd been nothing but supportive. If a smidge grating. Now that it was out in the open, some weight was lifted off my shoulders, so maybe it was the same for her. Why did I still feel… off about it, then? I liked her. She liked me.
No one disapproved. What was wrong?
With the coffeemaker all set up with those beans and filters, I held up the plug to my cheek pouch. I was surprised at how fast it actually worked. I could feel the sparks streaming down the cable and circling the motor until it eventually reached the hot plate. As it heat up, the whir of the motor thrummed out, to loud cheers above and below. When the water started to boil, I shut my eyes, listening to the bubbles and the machinery.
Micheal had put his foot down on the coffee, strongly suggesting we not drink more after lunch. Fair enough, but that meant everyone crashed around dinner. We didn't even explore any more of the ever-winding corridors, the spiral pulling us in but cooked food having more appeal. So we made an omelette as best we could and almost exploded the microwave. Effectively, we made no omelette without any recipe. The burnt smell was almost bad enough to make us leave the room with the appliances, but we were all too tired to make the trek back to last camp. There was a table to crawl and hide under anyway.
I was tired, but the coffee shakes hadn't left me. Damn that iced latte! I felt empty, batteries dry and wires twitching all over the place out of reflex. Despite that, I thought I could get to rest tonight. I really did. But being exhausted didn't lead to much sleep; it ironically led to thinking so much.
I'd made the mistake of shutting my eyes while thinking about Mr. Henry. Though my eyelids were still closed, I could feel them straining, welling with tears. My breath hitched, and my throat constricted. Vivid as a static shock, the image of Mr. Henry clutching his chest while moaning invaded my mind's eye. I held a paw against the bridge of my nose, as if it could wipe away the memory. Reminiscing just plain hurt. This world was far from perfect. I forced the painful, hot grief out of my face, letting it find a home somewhere in my gut as a pang. I'd cried enough lately. I didn't feel like doing that again. When my eyes inevitably snapped open, a single stray tear streamed out from the corner.
Asshole, I thought at the traitorous teardrop, knowing that if any more would come out, I'd start sobbing in earnest. Barely any shame in it with this group anyway, but I just wanted it to stop for my sake. I exhaled slowly, letting everything crawl to a pace where I had time to calm down. I still felt freaking awful, but now I knew it wouldn't get worse. I blinked, the dark a refreshing blank.
Took me longer than I meant, but eventually I had a look around with the sixth sense. Alien sense? Electromagnetic sense? I didn't want it to sound cool. It was useful, yes, but I didn't want to get attached to it.
The table was a welcome dimmer, an answer to soften the bright, sharp stabs of energy in the ceiling. Still, I could "see" through the metal table, so maybe it was less effective than, say, an insulator, like Styrofoam. The yellow panes of the ceiling were also metal, and yet the lights were present, just deeper into the building and muffled by the matter in front of it. Good to know for the future. Depth was a factor.
Meanwhile, my eye wandered to my forced friend group. It was much subtler than the energy in the walls, but if I squinted, I could tell Pokémon were their own batteries. Valérie had a hint of pink light from between her eyes, for example. It made sense for the Psychic typing. The pink was far less bright than the orange that ran through her core and limbs. Again, that made sense since she didn't know any Psychic moves yet, really. Kieran had some faint chartreuse and purple pretty much everywhere, and I figured it must be because he was so acclimated to Beedrill moves. Now, Chloe and Micheal were interesting, because a mirage-like cloud hovered over the Flying and Fire lights respectively. They swirled and attenuated their "auras" in part, which I attributed to the Normal typing. Something about it made their second type harder to parse.
Lola made my heart skip a beat. She just kept… flickering out. Every other breath, I thought she'd get lost in her dreams and disappear. I mean, was that what she was doing when looking at the future? Could she get taken away from this plane of existence if she made a mistake? I moved to a spot where my forehead made contact with her neck, and then I settled there for the night.
