Chapter 87 – Sunken Eyes

"Alright, Charizard. Why did you want us to come over? You don't usually go flying all the way to the lab unless one of your kids is sick…"

Charizard grunted, looking at the remaining children she had. She held her belly once, feeling the telltale signs of another egg coming, but then looked at Redscale, Smallflame, and two other Charmander—the latter two still not ready to go with a human.

"They look healthy to me. You have another egg coming, don't you?" The human with the fireproof coat rubbed Charizard on the shoulder. "You aren't getting a little egg-protective, are you?"

Charizard grumbled and sat down next to Smallflame, using her tail to nudge him forward.

"Oh?" The assistant looked down.

"Smallflame wants to challenge you," Charizard said. "I made a wager with him. He wants to see proof of the strength that Pokémon gain from humans."

"Hmm…" It didn't seem like the human fully understood her. Instead, she looked at Smallflame. "What do you want, little guy?"

Smallflame spat a flame on the ground and stomped his foot. "Fight me!"

"Oh! Well, that's pretty obvious." The human laughed, digging through her pockets. "I think I understand. You want to see how strong Pokémon can be, huh?" She pulled out a clipboard. "Why don't you wait here? I know just the thing."

She left, and Smallflame spent a good while kicking the dirt and huffing angrily.

Charizard smiled and bumped her tail against Smallflame again. "Think you'll win?"

"Of course," Smallflame said. "I trained under Redscale. I'm unbeatable."

Charizard shrugged, adjusting her position to get more comfortable. "I think the egg's coming soon," she murmured to herself.

Smallflame nodded, but then looked back at the facility. He heard the door opening, and out came two humans. The first was the same as before; the other was a young human with long hair. Curious eyes. What did she want? Was that his opponent? She looked weak.

"Okay, found your opponent! You ready to go, Charmander?"

"Always." Smallflame hopped on his feet.

"Wait." Charizard carefully stood up. "This isn't going to be a simple fight. Smallflame said that he needs to be convinced that a Pokémon with a human is stronger… and if he's convinced, he'll go with one, too."

Smallflame's chest tightened at the prospect, but he nodded firmly.

"What?" the human asked. "I don't understand… Sorry. You don't want to fight?"

"Oh, I think I know what's going on," the unfamiliar, younger human said. "If I had to guess…" She dug through her bag, pulling out an empty Poké Ball.

Charizard smiled.

"Yep!" The young trainer looked at the lab assistant. "They want this to be a battle to catch Charmander."

"Oh! So clever." The lab assistant nodded. "Would you mind doing that for us? A simple fight to get things going, and then I can take him to the lab if he decides to come with us. Can you and your partner do that?"

"Oh, um… Well, let me ask. Maybe he understands the situation?" She dug through her bag and pulled out another ball.

Smallflame growled. He was never going to wind up in one of those things; there was no point. Crammed up like that, just because some stupid human needed a guard while they went on a self-serving adventure? So, what? His siblings could do that. Not him.

"Alright, let's do this!" She tossed the ball forward; in midair, it burst open, and the ball went flying back to the trainer. The zigzag of white light materialized into a Bulbasaur.

Smallflame's apprehension suddenly switched to confusion, and then his face twisted into a smirk. This would be easy.

"My, aren't you confident?" Charizard said, smiling.

He looked back, daring to glare, and then looked back at Bulbasaur. He seemed ready to fight, so Smallflame roared out a challenge. "Alright, you dumb Bulbasaur! I'll beat you in two attacks! Just watch!"

"Wow, two, I'm sooo impressed." Bulbasaur rolled his eyes.

Charmander crouched down and ran forward, flames erupting from his throat. Bulbasaur's vine came whipping out quickly—it suddenly transformed into sharp claws, slashing at his shoulders.

"Kid, wake up already," Jerry said, his wing-claws grasping Owen's shoulders.

Owen shook limply, eyes fluttering open. "Huh? Wuh?"

"Finally." Jerry stopped. Owen's arms felt sticky—no, not sticky. Crusty? That was a good word for it. With blurry vision, Owen tried to wipe away at that crusty feeling, only to realize that it was dried mud caked on his scales.

"Ugh, you couldn't even try to clean me a little?" Owen mumbled, his vision slowly clearing. His orange and cream scales were covered in a thin layer of purple dust, occasionally with patches of thicker grime.

Jerry snorted, jabbing the spade of his tail in the dirt. "This is after I cleaned you a little. But I wasn't about to risk dunking you in water when I don't like the stuff either."

A rumble shook the cave and Jerry quieted down, glancing behind him. While the cave was abandoned, there was no telling if a wraith would find them in their sleep. It was a good thing Jerry had been awake to scare anything off.

Owen sighed, turning to get up. It was only then that he realized there was a wraith right next to him.

He screamed and sprang to his feet, ready to fight—but a wave of dizziness followed, and Jerry had to grab him under his arms.

"Calm down, calm down! It's dead!" Jerry pointed at it. "Most of those things just dissolve away, but that one has some shape to it. Didn't know what to really do with it, so I chucked it in the corner."

"Next to me?! What's wrong with you?!"

"Bah, get over it!" Jerry waved him off. "Besides, you should be thankful. That's our meal."

This did not help the situation. "What do you mean, our meal? I'm not eating that thing! It's—is it even edible?"

"I dunno, but I haven't eaten a thing here except for wood and red water, so if I'm gonna take my risk on some meat, I'm gonna do it. I told you before—my gut needs meat, not wood. And I'm pretty sure so do you."

"Um—Charmander can handle a lot of things, and I think we can go vegetarian if we—"

"Kid, have you had a look at yourself lately?"

"I'm not a—what do you mean?" Owen followed Jerry's claw, which was curled over so the curved top pressed gently on his chest. He blinked in surprise, realizing that there was barely a layer between his scales and his bones. Jerry ran it from the bottom of his chest up; his claw bumped against every rib.

Owen looked at his arms; the scales had a lot of extra skin to them, and he saw the bones of his wrist. The details along his hands where the soft, tiny scales followed the contour of his depleted muscles and joints. He turned his head and checked his shoulders, but all he saw was a faded scar where he had been attacked by the fanged wraith.

Oh, right—he hadn't found a single Oran Berry since then. He had given them all to—

"Jerry, we need to keep going," Owen urged. "Mom's out there, and so are the others. We have to go and—you can fly, right?"

"Barely. I'm running on an empty stomach." He pointed at the wraith. "We eating or not?"

"We can't just find some berries or something?"

"No," Jerry snapped. "First, like I said, berries for food just doesn't cut it for me. And second, all the berries here are poisonous."

Another cruel wind blew across the wastes outside. Some of the dust kicked up and flew into the cave, littering the ground and adding to its dry layer. Jerry used his wing to shield himself from a small cloud that blew into the cave, and then the wind settled. Through it all, Owen stood in complete stillness.

"Poisonous?" Owen repeated.

"Yeah. It happened in the south before annexation, actually. I don't know the details, but berries in southern Dungeons—before Anam got in and did renewed blessings or whatever mumbo-jumbo he calls it… Sometimes the distortion corrupts the berries and other items inside. Oran Berries in particular were notorious for their false healing. We called them Oren Berries, because they looked just like 'em, and you had to really inspect it to tell that it's fake."

"Poisonous…"

"Uh, yeah. So don't eat them if you find any. Long time ago, I found out the hard way."

A rumble followed, a bit louder this time, and that made Jerry look back nervously. "We should get deeper into the cave," he muttered. "C'mon, Owen. Stay behind me so your flame doesn't give us away. Sometimes those things bend down and stare inside, so we gotta keep to the dark. Don't make any noise."

Owen said something in reply, but he didn't remember what he said the moment it left his mouth. Maybe just an affirmative, because Jerry kept going, prodding him to walk. Owen followed on reflex, but his eyes were empty and aimless, mind elsewhere.

"C'mon, kid, focus."

The dead wraith remained where it was—it looked a bit more deflated than a few seconds ago.

Jerry draped a wing over Owen, hiding the Charmander completely from the mouth of the cave. His flame, dim as it was, gently lit up the inside of the Aerodactyl's wings. He reached toward it out of sheer curiosity, but a shadow looming over the cave's entrance made him freeze.

That was a big rumble. Was it the same one from before, or a different one? It seemed somehow bigger. And then came a deep groan, a grunt, and then air whistling through huge nostrils. Jerry had his head turned back, watching intently. His body was ready to bolt in any direction—even though they were completely trapped.

Owen heard a heart, but it wasn't his own. He glanced at Jerry and saw his chest throbbing to each beat. Jerry's expression wasn't clear from Owen's angle, but his jaw was clenched, ready for battle. There hadn't been a shake for a while.

Jerry smelled a lot like the dust. But there was a bit more to him, too, that Owen couldn't really describe. It was oddly comforting, though… If only because it was something different. He was tempted to lean closer, but didn't want to distract Jerry or accidentally make a noise.

And then, the shadow left the cave, and the shaking ground indicated the titan was moving away. Jerry still didn't move, each beat of his heart echoing in Owen's ears—it made his own pulse quicken and deepen.

After what felt like forever, Jerry finally loosened up and took his wings off of Owen. "Didn't even look into the cave," he said. "Maybe they just aren't interested, or they didn't see it. Don't care. Let's eat and bail."

Jerry made a few shaky steps to the fallen wraith and sat down, giving his legs a rest.

Owen wobbled to the wraith next, prodding at a deflated portion of its body. He felt something hard deeper inside, something that vaguely resembled bone. Aside from that, the skin was completely black and slimy, and whatever was inside…

"What, you want me to eat first?" Jerry said. "Quit poking it."

"Sorry."

Owen grasped at the edge of one and pulled, but it slipped out of his hands and left a black residue on his scales. He grimaced, not even wanting to taste it, and tried again, digging his claws into the slippery flesh. Claws punctured skin; sticky, black fluid oozed out of the hole like a molten chocolate cake, and even more gushed over the ground when he tore away. It didn't make a sound, like ripping at gummy candy.

The scent was bitter, with a hint of blood. So it was blood. But it was black, like the innards of a Bluk Berry. Now he had a chunk, about the size of his fist, to work with. He nibbled on the edge; the slime outside didn't have a taste, but the black blood was like iron and stale water. Still, it was water.

That was enough to convince Owen to go for a full bite. The texture—the tough, slick exterior was rubbery and chewy, and the inner flesh was chunky and watery at the same time. Bits of softer flesh bounced around on his tongue, surrounding tougher, springier pieces that reminded Owen that what he was eating wasn't natural.

Jerry was having similar luck, but he was forcing it down in huge gulps, his expression barely changing with each bite.

"Food's food," he muttered, black drops pouring out from the sides of his mouth in streams. "Anything tastes good when you're starving."

Owen had to admit, as foul as it was, there was some small part of him that wanted to keep eating. But his mind kept wandering to other foods he could be eating instead, and then rapidly back to berries, and then to the fact that the berries here were poisoned.

"How did you find out they were poisoned?" Owen asked.

"What, this? I dunno if it's poisoned. Guess we're finding out. I'd rather die from that than starving to death."

"No," Owen said quickly. "Berries. How do you—"

"I said, they look different. It's really subtle, but they do. And every one here looked the part. Sure, you might not've known since they were only really that way in the south for the longest time, but eh, once it happens the first time, you get more careful."

Owen's expression darkened again, not realizing that he had dropped his wraith slab. He clumsily picked out the stones and pebbles that had gotten stuck to it, then, in futility, brushed away the dust that mixed with the slime. He eventually gave up, setting it down.

"Hey, hey, no," Jerry said. "Don't waste food. Every bit of it."

"But it's dusty."

"And it's food. The dust is in the water, too, so it's not like you're getting anything weird out of it."

"What?"

"The dust turns red when it's wet. That's what's making the river its color, I bet. Now eat your food already."

"But it's…" Owen tried to protest, but Jerry's glare gave him pause. "Okay."

The chalky texture didn't add much to the experience. With a few grunts and coughs, he finished the rest, the dark, inconsistent thing slowly making its way down his throat. It settled into his stomach like a rock. He somehow felt emptier than before.

"Once we're done eating," Jerry said, tearing off another huge chunk with his jaws alone, "we've gotta find out where to go next. Outta here. Away from those giant things, for one. Tried flying into the forest—got shot at."

"Shot at?" Owen repeated. "By…"

"Those dark blasts. Flying above the trees'll get you shot by those things. And last time I tried flying above the plateaus, I got spotted by a giant and it did the same thing to me. Even saw one try to jump at me. Those things can leap. Let's hope we don't meet a flying one."

The Charmander tried to get rid of that aftertaste, which was arguably worse than the actual flesh, and coughed up dust that had collected in the corners of his throat.

"Use the blood to wash it off," Jerry advised, pointing at a bit of the flesh that still oozed.

"I—I'll be fine," Owen said, but that just made Jerry scowl. "I know where I want to go next."

"Oh?"

"Mom's out there somewhere." He pointed to the mouth of the cave. "I need to find her, and—and I know that I can sense where she is, and also where my crystal—" Owen gasped, searching the immediate area, and then stared at Jerry, horrified. "Did you bring my crystal?"

"What?"

"My—it was kinda shaped like two triangles stuck together, a diamond? And it was green—I mean, I had three, but my favorite one was green, and—and it was shiny, and it kinda glowed, too."

"Alright. And?" Jerry tore off another piece—there wasn't much left of the wraith by now, and Owen had only taken a few bites. He didn't really want more, though. "What's it matter?" Jerry asked.

"I—" Owen tried to answer, but realized he didn't have one. It was pretty. That had been the main reason, but also, well, he had been drawn to them. They called him. Didn't that mean something? "I found it because it felt like, I dunno, it was drawing me toward it. If I left it behind, I'd still feel the call from it."

"You'd feel the call from it? Right. I didn't feel any kind of call, so as far as I'm concerned, you're nuts."

"I'm not—I'm serious, maybe there's something to it! Right? You don't just feel that kind of thing for no reason, do you? It's like Perceive, but not."

"Sweet Mew, where'd your head go?" Jerry shoved a piece of wraith at Owen. "Eat so you stop talking like you're a thread away from falling into the abyss."

"I—I think I'm full," Owen said.

Jerry snarled—the sudden hostility enough for Owen to flinch. The Aerodactyl waved a bit of the remaining wraith in front of him, flecks of black blood spattering randomly. "You don't get it, do you? This is all the food we have, and there's no telling if we'll get more of it later. You got that? Eat now, eat until you're at least a little full, because—"

"I am full, I—"

"Don't lie to me. Eat your food, because if you waste away, I'm gonna force dust down your throat instead. Got it?" Jerry shoved the slab in Owen's chest; he staggered back.

Owen stared at the rotten food, squeezing it between his claws. For a moment, he had a flash of anger—how could he eat something like this when he could barely hold it down?! He glared at Jerry, but he was already tearing at the last piece.

"I'm giving you," Jerry said between bites, "every opportunity to not die. So if you do, that's your fault." He swallowed the final bit, then pointed at the piece in Owen's hand. "Now choose. That's either yours or mine."

Owen let out a growl at the threat—yes, that was now a threat to Owen—and shuffled away, holding it to his chest. But he still wasn't keen on eating it, even as the mess stuck to his cream-colored scales.

Jerry scowled again, looking down like he was dealing with some kind of feral. In a way, he was. "Make your decision. We can't stay here for long, got it?"

It took a while longer of hesitating, but he finally shoved the rest of the 'meat' down, chewing a lot faster—not like it mattered, since most of it was soft and mushy to begin with—and gagged as it slid wetly to his stomach.

Two mouthfuls. He wouldn't have been able to stand a third, even with how hungry he felt. Tree taffy was a thousand times better.

"Get on my back," Jerry said. "We're gonna fly. I guess we'll go and find your stupid crystal again, but after that, what?"

Owen approached Jerry, hesitating on actually climbing up. Jerry growled impatiently, and that was enough for Owen to finally clamber on. "I want to find Mom. She's got to be around here somewhere, and I'll feel her."

"Sure. Not like I have anything better to do."

Once Owen was situated firmly on his back—despite his rapidly deteriorating grip strength—he beat his wings and took to the low skies.

Smallflame lay battered and bruised on the ground, flat on his belly. He groaned and stared at Bulbasaur, who was nursing a minor burn on his vine, and then glared at Smallflame. "I think I won this one," he said to his trainer.

A few cheers followed from the humans, but they seemed solemn. Smallflame was in disbelief more than anything; what happened? Bulbasaur… always lost to Charmander. That was just the natural order of things. How could he lose? There was nothing special about him! Nothing except…

Bulbasaur happily pranced to his human and leapt into her arms with unseen strength. She giggled and swung him around in a gleeful spin, then set him down. "That was great. But, um… Did we do what you wanted?"

Smallflame slowly got up, keeping most of his weight on one foot. Marowak and Charizard were both watching in silence, and Smallflame couldn't bear to look at them for very long. He lost to a Bulbasaur. That wasn't… right.

"Do you see now, Smallflame?" Charizard said. "That is the power of a human."

Smallflame didn't respond; he only stared at the young trainer, then at the lab assistant, who was holding another, empty Poké Ball. She was waiting for him, occasionally rolling the hollow sphere in her hands. His flame shrank; he didn't want to go. His mother would miss him, and the fields were warm, and there was no telling how stupid his human would be if he took the risk.

"Smallflame?" Charizard asked.

But at the same time, he didn't want to lose like that again. And… Bulbasaur…

The trainer rummaged through her bag, finally pulling out Bulbasaur's Poké Ball again. "Okay, now let's start our adventure for real! We've done enough training."

Bulbasaur grabbed the Poké Ball and hopped away, yelling a playful taunt.

"Aw, c'mon!" She ran after him and into the lab, laughing.

Only the lab assistant remained, holding the empty ball.

"…Smallflame…" Charizard frowned.

"I don't want to go…"

"I won't be going anywhere," Charizard said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

Marowak, while stoic thanks to the mask, also nodded and tapped his bone club on a rock. "You'll always be in our thoughts, and I know that once you find your human, you'll find your wings."

The little Charmander looked at the burned ground. He was going to miss how it smelled. And how Charizard felt. And Marowak's strength and presence. All of it. But…

"Hold on," Smallflame finally said. He ran toward his parents, wrapping his arms as well as he could around Marowak. Then, he went to Charizard and blew a tiny Ember at her flame. Charizard responded in kind, blowing a little ember over Smallflame.

His legs felt like they were weighed down by boulders larger than he was. His claws wiggled uselessly against the dirt, and then, finally—with the strength he had left after the fight—he slowly walked toward the assistant.

"I'm proud of you, Charmander," the human said. "Are you ready?"

Smallflame made one final glance at Charizard and Marowak. The latter held his bone club in a battle-ready stance, but his eyes held the light of a smile. Charizard unleashed a motivating Flamethrower in the air, warping the morning sky in waves of heat.

His flame brightened. He looked up at the ball, then at the human, and finally nodded.

The world melted into a haze.

Owen felt something, but he was too disoriented to realize what was happening. There was a firm pressure around his abdomen, and he couldn't feel the ground. His arms and tail dangled in the air. And that air—it was rushing past him, leaving trails of embers from his tail behind.

"Ugh—what's—"

The ground was far, far below him. Owen squeaked and stiffened, and then Jerry shouted over the rushing wind, "Keep calm or I'll accidentally drop you!"

"Okay! Okay!" Owen nodded fervently, wincing when Jerry's talons readjusted around him. After giving his heart some time to slow down, and after he got used to staring at the ground from so far away, he asked, "How long have we been flying?"

"What, like we can tell time in this place?" Jerry beat his wings again. "No idea. But I feel like I'm being followed, and I'm not gonna slow down until that prickle on my scales goes away."

"Right…" He felt like he should have been more afraid of staring at the ground the way he was, but there was something nostalgic about it. It tugged at the bottom of his chest, and he wanted to take deep breaths of the air, even if there was a lingering stench of rotten dust.

He had done this before, though not in the talons of an Aerodactyl. No, his mother—his mother flew him around all the—Amber. Her name was Amber. That was her human-given name. It was so clear.

"Hey, um, Jerry?"

"What?"

"Do you know what humans are like?"

"No."

"Oh." He wasn't sure why he asked. Maybe it was the lack of food making him babble. Perhaps conserving his energy was best.

He tried to remember his father's name next. Amber. Amber was his mother's name. It was similar to the name he had. Owen, Amber. But his father's name was different. He had been named by the facility. Daichi. That was his name. But he had only used it when answering the humans; he'd never cared for it otherwise.

Jerry made gentle banks over the ground, taking wide turns around the plateaus, but knew not to fly above them. He occasionally considered landing on top of them for a break, but didn't know if he would be spotted by whatever had been following him.

"Pah," Jerry suddenly said, waking Owen from a half-nap. "Thirsty. There's a river ahead, no, a lake, I think. I'm gonna take a stop there."

"Okay," Owen said, though this had been their second stop for water already. First, Jerry lowered his altitude and kept an eye out for any of those titans; finding none, he lowered even more to the ground and warned Owen to get ready for a landing. The Charmander braced, and once the Aerodactyl let him go, he tumbled and rolled to break his fall.

It didn't go well that time. With a surprised shout, he landed badly on his arm and rolled against a hidden rock in the dust, knocking the wind out of him. When he got his first breath, he instead took in a mouthful of dust and coughed.

"Sorry, sorry," Jerry said, slamming his wing on Owen's back.

He sputtered again, but held up a hand. "It's okay—get—water," Owen nodded, wiping his tongue of dust since what little spit he had wasn't enough.

That feeling was back. That itchy feeling inside his forehead. Was it Amia?! No—it felt different. Still familiar, but different. Someone was nearby. But out here? A quick scan on the barren, red lakeside revealed a great swath of nothing.

"No, someone's definitely here," Owen said. He paced forward at the same time that Jerry grunted in disapproval.

"Well, they're probably drowning," Jerry said. "C'mon, let's just get a drink. Make sure it's not some aquatic wraith."

"Err, right." Owen crawled toward the water's edge and nervously eyed the murky water. Some small part of him said not to inch too close; he was small and weak, and some large predator could be lurking just at the water's surface to take him under. He shuddered, legs and arms tensed. Flames bubbled in his throat, but he stemmed them so he could at least drink, foul as it was.

"Don't worry," Jerry said, startling Owen. "I just said don't worry, c'mon. I've got my eyes on the water."

"Thanks," Owen said after some stumbling over his words.

The water didn't have the best taste, but either his tongue was numb to it or he was just getting used to that foul stench. It coated his tongue and mixed with the dirt; he spat the first rounds out just so his first few gulps weren't dusty. Then, he drank, carelessly at first, but then calmed down enough to drink with some semblance of dignity. He was in front of Jerry, after all.

Oh, Jerry saw all of that. Owen glanced shamefully at him, but the Aerodactyl furrowed his scaly brow in response. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing. I—sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry for, uh, I don't know."

"Mew, you're a mess." Jerry's wing made a motion for his forehead, but he stopped, training his eyes on the water again. "Just keep drinking and then keep an eye out when we're through. I'm thirsty next."

After Owen had his fill, they switched places, Owen trying his best to watch the water. Jerry dunked his lower jaw into the water and tilted his head back, red fluid trickling down his neck like blood from a kill. Owen's mouth watered at the thought—tree taffy was not enough to keep him going, and he hadn't even had any of that in a while. Was there anything he could eat?

The image of Amia's stiff, tranquil body flashed through his mind and he took in a sharp breath.

It was enough for Jerry to hop away from the water. "What? What happened?"

"Nothing—sorry. Sorry."

"Argh, don't do that!"

Owen whimpered and nodded, refocusing on the water. Jerry snorted and took another mouthful.

But this time, Owen actually saw something in the water. It was faint and only at the surface, but it was the shadow of some small, aquatic creature, swimming tentatively toward them.

"Someone's there," Owen announced.

"Well, I'll take care of it," Jerry said, already preparing a Rock Blast.

"Wait!"

Jerry spat one of the stones on the ground nearby, clearing his throat. "Whaaat? What now?"

The fish had flinched deeper into the water. And when it did, Owen felt that the feeling of something calling him had gone further away. "That's the thing I was feeling. The—it might be someone! You know, someone we knew? I—I felt Mom like that once, so maybe this… well, not her, b-but…"

Jerry, perhaps tired of his babbling, groaned and said, "Well, how are you gonna convince it to come closer?" He squinted at the water's surface. "Doesn't look all that big. I've seen bigger things in the water, but maybe they're just too small to be interesting to those wraiths."

Owen stepped toward the water's edge, the damp ground curling uncomfortably around his toes. The red water was motionless, the last remnants of Jerry's drinking far away from their spot. Owen had to pause to admire the dreary beauty of the still lakeside, disturbed only when another cruel wind stroked the water's murky surface.

It was moving. It had to be aquatic. Not coming closer, but not leaving, either. Watching from afar? "Hello?" Owen finally called. "Who are you? It's me, Owen, if… you know who I am."

Jerry waited, tapping his foot impatiently. He was tapping loudly; Owen knew he was trying to make it known that he was wasting time.

"Hang on," Owen said with a feral growl afterward. He crept closer to the water's edge, looking for shadows. None. "Hello?" he called, just above the water's surface, enough that it trembled beneath his chin.

Jerry took a breath, about to speak, but Owen shoved himself forward and into the water. Against his instincts, he bubbled out another "Hello?" Then, he waited. In the same breath, he added, "I'm Owen!" And then he pulled up for a breath.

"You're probably the dumbest person I've met," Jerry commented.

"Well, I didn't sense anybody, so it was probably safe," Owen said, though his creeping paranoia had him stepping away from the water's edge afterward. Even if he could sense that there was someone out there like Amia, there was no telling if a wraith had been lurking at the water's edge for someone just like him… Was he lucky just then? No—Jerry would have helped him if…

And finally, a shadow appeared at the water's surface. Small, vaguely fish-like. Magikarp, perhaps? But the shape didn't match exactly. A little closer, but then claws grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"You idiot, what if it's a trap?" Jerry growled.

"That little thing?" Owen pointed at the shadow as it got closer.

"You never know with a place like—okay, never mind."

Sunken eyes on an even uglier face stared at Owen, the Feebas taking a breath of air with an unpleasant, wheezy noise to speak above water. "Hello?"

Something nagged at the back of Owen, his instincts telling him he didn't know this Pokémon. Then, some distant trivia he'd picked up long ago rose from the back of his mind. This ugly, aquatic Pokémon. Like Remoraid, or Magikarp, they evolved into something completely unlike their current form. Oh, that's right, they evolved into—

Owen choked on his words, trying to say three things at once. He nearly lunged for the water, had it not been for Jerry clutching at his shoulder again. His flailing startled the Feebas, but Owen knew it would all be better once he shouted, "Zena!"

And her eyes widened in response. She dunked under the water, then rose back up, and Owen could only grin wider; it was her. And that probably meant the strange, tugging feeling he had whenever he wandered these lands corresponded to Mystic power after all. Amia, now Zena. He wasn't sure what was so special about those crystals, though. Could it be related?

"Hey," Jerry said, breaking the brief silence. "Looks like you're in the same situation as Owen."

"Owen?" Zena asked, blinking. Then, she looked at the Charmander. "You're Owen?"

"Yeah! I know, it's sort of awkward," Owen admitted, laughing. "I think, uh, I don't really know how to explain how it happened, but—"

"How did you know my name?"

Owen babbled uselessly again, starting with an explanation before transitioning into a question seconds later, but neither attempt at speaking was accomplished. Eventually, after several more attempts, he said, "What?"

"I don't believe we've met before," Zena said. "How did you… know me? You aren't some kind of…"

"No! No, no," Owen said frantically, waving his claws desperately. "Zena! Did you hit your head or something? It's me! Owen! You know? We were courting!"

Zena frowned and hummed, diving under the water again for another breath. She rose back up. "Why would I court with a… Charmander? I don't see how that would work out."

"I—"

Jerry rubbed the back of his head, wincing. "Guess you just can't catch a break," he said. "Hey, Zena. What do you remember?"

"Remember? Well… I woke up here, but before that, I remember… Mm…" She looked pensive, then shook her body. "It's all a fog there. Sorry."

"Well, I'm part of the memories you lost," Owen said, hoping this was just something temporary. Jerry turned his head back, likely to keep an eye on whether or not they were being followed.

"Hey, uh, Owen," Jerry mumbled.

"Zena, can you survive out of water? As a Milotic you could, and—"

"As a Milotic? Are you… oh… oh, I do… but how could that be?"

"Owen," Jerry said again, "look back."

"Hang on," Owen said. "Zena, please, you have to remember. We were fighting this thing—this, this shadow demon thing. He was possessing Anam, remember? Anam? A Goodra?"

"I think I do… It sounds familiar. Owen sounds familiar."

Jerry forcibly wrapped his claws under Owen's arms and spun him around. Owen struggled uselessly, but then caught sight of something black flying in the air. "Oh."

"We gotta go," Jerry said. "Grab Zena or don't—we're out!"

"Um—grab?" Zena said.

"Zena," Owen said quickly, rushing toward the water's edge. Despite the suddenness, she didn't flinch away. "How long can you hold your breath in the air?"

"F-fairly long? Why do you—"

Owen grasped Zena by her belly with one hand, then the top by the other, before quickly realizing that she was practically the same size as him.

Zena flopped about, slapping her tail against his cheek, and said, "Excuse me! Explain why—oh, that?" One of her sunken eyes stared at the dark avian flying toward them, uncomfortably quickly at that. "Um—please hurry."

"I'm trying," Owen said, returning to grappling with Zena's unwieldy form. This was somehow more difficult than if she'd been a Milotic. Then he could just—he wasn't sure, perhaps wrap her around him like a rope? But this, it was just—a fish! How was he supposed to carry a fish the same size as him?

"C'mon, c'mon!" Jerry said, growling. "Just hug Zena tight, and I'm gonna swoop down and pick you both up! Got it?"

"Okay! Okay. Zena, are you fine with that?"

"Just hurry before we become food!" Zena flopped into Owen's arms.

The Charmander struggled to keep steady, but eventually managed to wrap his arms around enough to get a firm hold under her fins. "Is this okay?"

"I think so." She tried gasping for air, but it was foreign compared to working with her gills, and Owen could tell how labored it was.

"Are you sure you can stay out of the water?" Owen asked.

"Feebas are hardy."

Wingbeats—two sets of them—accelerated Owen's heart. One was softer, of Jerry swooping down; the other was from the great, black bird approaching them.

A second later, Jerry's talons wrapped around Owen's back and plucked him out of the water's edge. Owen held onto Zena, the Feebas stiffening once she was far out of the air, a nervous whimper breaking through her wheezing gasps. Owen could only imagine the primal fear that came from being plucked out of the water by someone like Jerry.

"Gah! Why is he so fast?!" Jerry looked back, beating his wings harder. Jerry weaved to the left, then suddenly went to the right. "Owen! They still behind us?"

"Yes!" Owen said. "Stop moving like that! I c-can't hold onto Zena like this!"

"Don't let go!" Zena begged.

"He's too fast! I—don't have the energy to keep this up! We gotta find shelter!"

"But they already see us!" Owen shouted back up. "Wait, what if I—"

Fire bubbled in the back of his throat. He couldn't do a Fire Trap in the ground, but what if…

His feet. He could still channel it through his feet, and then blast them that way! Owen focused—the warmth went from his chest, through his skin, along his legs, and to the bottoms of his feet. A dim glow emanated from them, then emitted a small ball of orange light. Owen focused, glaring at nothing, and the ball exploded.

The metal bird squawked and twirled right; the thing on the bird's back—an icy Sandslash, it looked like—swore loudly, then yelled, "Stop, stop! What're you doing?!"

This time, Owen heard it more clearly. "Wait—Jerry, they're telling us to stop!"

"Oh, sure!" Jerry said, but then kept flying forward. "Whatever you just did, do it ag—"

Owen's load suddenly felt a lot lighter. He looked down and realized that with all the strain, he'd dropped Zena. The air drowned out her screams, but not Owen's. She flailed, flipping and spinning in the air; there was no water beneath them.

Jerry dove down in response to Owen's screaming, but then had to pull up. The Charmander's eyes bulged even more, completely focused on Zena and, without thinking much about the consequences, tried to tear himself away from Jerry's hold. The talons dug into him harder, immediately stopping any future attempts.

"ZENA!" Owen cried.

The black bird—Corviknight, Owen finally realized—got to Zena first, following her falling speed. The Sandslash on his back grabbed her and held her down, and Jerry was flying further away.

"Forget it!" Jerry shouted. "We're out!"

"NO!" Owen roared, flailing again. He channeled flames into his hands, the explosive energy building. "Take us back! Now! They have Zena!" Owen looked back again; Zena was still okay, but it was getting hard to see specifics. The Sandslash was inspecting her, and they were flying toward the river. "Jerry, take me back!"

"Or what?!" Jerry looked down, snarling, but his eyes flashed with incredulous worry when Owen showed the flaming sphere between his hands. "Are you nuts?!"

"Take us back!" The flame orb brightened.

A few more wingbeats followed, and then Jerry muttered something Owen could only guess was a southern slur. He banked to the left, turning back.

"If we die from this, I'm haunting you," Jerry muttered.

"I don't think that's gonna work," Owen admitted.

"What?"

"I'll explain later." He trained his eyes on Sandslash, Corviknight, and Zena. Sandslash hopped off of Corviknight and set Zena near the water, but said something to her. She glanced nervously at the pond while Sandslash pulled out an odd, rectangular tablet from the bag, poking at certain parts of the face of it.

Corviknight watched Owen and Jerry while Sandslash stared at the tablet, tapping on different parts. Little dots flashed on the face.

Jerry released Owen and, with a tumble and a grunt, the Charmander rolled to a stop near the lakeside. Zena flopped weakly near the water, and Sandslash finally said, "Alright, go in the lake. It's safe."

Zena didn't have to be told twice, slapping the wet ground. With a splash, she sank into the red water, reemerging several seconds later with a relieved smile. "Thank you," she said. "What are you doing?"

"Scanning for Void Titans," Sandslash said, a puff of frost clouding the air in front of him. "Name's Hakk, by the way. Feathers over there is Xypher."

The Corviknight chirped when his name was mentioned, then tilted his head at Owen. "Hello."

"Hi—hi."

"You're tired."

"Er—" Owen glanced at his tail on reflex, noticing its tiny ember. Wincing, he nodded. "I am. Sorry for… trying to blow you up."

"Energy. Strong. Spirited. Strong, strong."

Owen wasn't sure how to reply, caught staring at Xypher long enough that he realized he was being rude. "Um—thank you."

"I forgive you."

"Thanks." Owen wasn't sure where to go after that, so he looked at Hakk, who put away the tablet. "So, Void Titans. Are those the giant wraith things?"

"Wraiths, right. So you're definitely from Kilo, I take it."

"Uh—" Suddenly realizing that Hakk was the first person he'd met who could probably answer this question, he quickly asked, "Where are we? What happened? Do you know?"

Hakk sighed, rubbing his forehead. Then, like a routine, he said, "You're in the Voidlands. You died. You can't go back. Come with me to Null Village or stay out here and pray to the god that can't hear you. That clear it up?"

"N…"

A cruel wind gave the group a bath of purple dust. Owen winced, squeezing his eyes shut, and Zena sank deeper in the water until the dust settled. When he finally felt it was safe enough to breathe, Owen shouted, "NO! That doesn't clear anything up!"

"Uh-huh." Hakk walked to his bag and threw it over Xypher's neck. "So, Null Village or nah?"

"There's a whole village out in this middle-of-nowhere?" Jerry asked.

"Well, it's still in the middle of nowhere, but at least it's a village," Hakk said. "So, coming?"

"Better than here. Got food?"

"You'll have to work for it."

Jerry shrugged and looked down at Owen. "No choice. Get the fish and we'll head over."

"Oh, right, her." Hakk looked in his pouch, then pulled out a strange, grayish ring from the bag. With a few clicks, it widened in radius, thinning out until it became about twice the length of Zena. He pointed the face of the ring toward Zena and closed one eye, then nodded to himself. After placing the ring in the water, he pointed inside and said, "Swim here."

"I'm sorry?" Zena said.

"Gonna help make travel a little easier on you. Some tech based on an Araquanid's water bubble. Makes it a lot easier for aquatics to go on long trips in the air."

After some hesitation, Zena broke the water's surface inside the ring, and Hakk pressed a small button on the edge. With a click, the ring glowed, and a dome of water surrounded Zena; her eyes widened with wonder at the same time that Owen's did.

"You, Aero. Strong enough to fly?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll carry Charmander." Jerry nodded down to Owen, who needed a few seconds to register that, indeed, his first name was Charmander again.

Hakk pulled out a small, tough-looking rope—it didn't look like it was made from fiber—and snapped it into the edge of another slot of the metal ring. Then, he tied the other side around Xypher's neck. The Corviknight nodded.

"Right, we're all set. Ready to go?"

"Um—excuse me, but is this safe?" Zena asked, poking her head out of the ring. "I'm worried I'll fall."

"Don't worry. Once we get moving, the ring's forcefield will solidify and you won't be able to fall out unless you're actually trying to break free. Oh, don't do that, by the way. Tails and fins inside the sphere at all times. Including now."

Zena shrank away, but Owen gave her an apologetic smile. When she didn't return it, and instead stared at him with the same lack of recognition as before, Owen did his best to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Wait," Owen added.

"What now?" Hakk said, already on Xypher's back.

"There's someone else lost out here. A Gardevoir—no, probably a Ralts now. Can we find her?"

"We don't have the resources for scouting any longer," Hakk said. "We need to return to Null Village, regroup, and then see what we can do."

"But I—"

Hakk's bag suddenly made a foreign, beeping noise that reminded Owen of something ADAM would have done. Xypher's head twitched in its direction, then at Hakk, and the Corviknight let out a low caw.

"No buts," Hakk said. "Titan's nearby and coming closer. Might sense us. Time to go. You can tell us about Ralts on the way and we'll figure out a rescue plan."

Jerry helped Owen—in other words, picked up and tossed him—on his back. Xypher took to the skies first, lifting Zena in her aqua sphere suddenly, but securely. And then Jerry followed, with Owen looking back just in time to see a Void Titan crawling around a faraway plateau.

It roared, the sound turning Owen's blood to ice, but they were faster. Soon, it was just a big, black dot in the wastes.