Humans came again. But she didn't keep her word.
She wasn't reckless, of course. She stayed hidden, watching from the shadows. Peeking down from up high where the heavy ones couldn't reach. Or squished low against the ground, nestled within the ruins and peering up at the enormous world above. Humans were terrible hunters, it turned out— anywhere that was a good spot to hide from beasts, they'd never ever find.
She couldn't help herself but watch. There was such a fascinating allure to them. Creatures so terrifying that even Mom dreaded them. And yet seeming so harmless, so friendly.
One day a human wandered through with a bird perched on its head the whole time.
She didn't usually like birds very much. They were too fast in the air, and she couldn't outfly them. This one had seemed nice, though. While the human climbed over rubble carefully and stood atop the heap, surveying the entire building with a frown, the bird sat patiently and sang. Wrapped his cloudy wings around the human's head and cocked his head curiously at everything, mirroring his human friend. Every few minutes he'd pause his song and lean down to the human. And the human would pass him something that he'd quickly rear back his head and swallow.
It was so strange to watch. Why were they here? Were they hunting? Foraging? Was the human raising him? Why?
She had wanted so much to greet him. To know why he sang, what he was like. If he would come again.
If the bird were alone, she might have. But even if she was bending the rules a bit by not telling her parents about the human, she wasn't bold enough fly near one. So she just watched, until eventually they seemed to bore and leave.
On another day, a human came with an iron beast.
Creatures like it were so strange. How did anything move when it was so heavy? The human was different this time. A bit smaller. But it sat down on the iron beast's shell, and it hardly seemed to notice!
The human made more beasts appear somehow, in a flash of light. There was a big-jawed beast from the water. Another bird, with folded wings and a piercing stare… The human sat atop the iron beast's shell and began pulling out food. It had dragged a meal here to share with the beasts somewhere it thought was safe.
Did humans often raise other beasts?
She wanted to talk to these ones too. To ask the bird if it ever blinked. To ask the iron beast how it was so heavy. Though, even if the human wasn't there, she might have been too shy to speak with any of them. They were quiet, and hard to read. Would they be friendly? Mean? Hungry?
She couldn't know.
There was one human that she found more interesting than all the others, though.
They were small, and always alone. The first time they crawled into the ruins, it was with a sense of uncertainty. They watched around every corner as if expecting a predator to be hidden in wait. In spite of their caution, they still seemed to trip on every loose beam in their path, stumbling to the ground a dozen times in just their short exploration of the ruined space.
Yet they kept getting up, undeterred. Unphased.
Why was this one alone? What were they afraid of? Should she have been afraid too?
Rather than fear, it sparked intrigue. They were distressed and afraid. She could taste that faintly in the air. She could have fed upon that fear— startled the small human in their vulnerable state and feasted on her terror. Mom might have even been proud if she drove off a human on her own.
But if she did that, they might run away and never come back. And she didn't want them to leave.
She watched as Persephone— a few years younger at the time— grew comfortable in the abandoned space. Slumped down against a pillar and shut their eyes. Breathed deep in the isolation. They opened them again and turned to remove something colorful and a big, flat object from a strange container. From a distance, she glanced backed and forth between the container and herself, noting the similarities to her fabrics. Was it made from a dead beast?
Persephone opened the colorful object and removed more, smaller colorful objects from inside of it. They relaxed against the wall and let the colorful sticks scatter onto the floor around them.
She leaned closer, peering out as far as she could from her spot wedged between a few tumbled pieces of lumber that had once formed a wall. Trying to get a better look, trying to see what the human was doing.
It appeared humans handled their distress by scrawling markings on things in bright colors. It was weird— usually that marked territory but they were just putting it on the flat object. And it was so intricate and taking so long.
She crept a little closer but found herself at the edge of her hiding spot. She pouted, unable to get a look at the human's strange markings.
Persephone kept scrawling, and she kept watching. Wondering, hoping, that when they finally left they'd leave the markings behind for her to inspect. So caught up in her intense curiosity that she didn't notice the time.
They must have spent hours, making their marking more and more elaborate and brilliant on that object. It seemed like they'd never leave. Maybe they didn't want to.
But as the shadows fell over where she was hiding, she remembered the time. And she realized what would happen soon.
Mom would return. And when Mom returned, if the Mismagius found a human here then…
She wormed out of her hiding spot and moved silently along the ground. Creeping closer while staying out of sight. She flitted quickly towards the pillar Persephone was leaning against and darted behind it.
It was invigorating and terrifying. She was exposed, and so close to a human. The most dangerous creatures Mom had warned her of. But she liked this one. And she remembered what Dad had said— chasing them off herself was nicer than letting Mom find them. She wasn't strong enough to intimidate them. But she was stealthy, and she was spooky.
She waited until Persephone grabbed one of their colorful scrawling sticks and turned their attach back towards the marking. She took her opportunity to crawl silently around the pillar to where the other scrawling sticks were scattered on the floor. Stretched her tongue out wide and slorped up three of them in one tremendous lick. And then quietly fled, back around the pillar, and then all the way back to her hiding spot inside the wall.
Despite being brightly colored like a berry, the scrawling sticks tasted TERRIBLE! She would NOT be eating those again if she found more.
After a minute Persephone turned to look for their scrawling sticks and appeared confused. They looked to their left. To their right. Stood up, and circled around. She felt a little bad when she could feel Persephone's increasing distress. They seemed very upset about losing their scrawling stick.
But her sacrifice seemed to pay off. After a few minutes of searching, they grew frustrated. Threw their arms, stomped their feet. And then gathered up their things and stormed off down the hill as the sun was setting.
Mom came back soon, none-the-wiser.
After that day, she started doing the same for all the humans who came.
Humans were very timid for such fearsome beasts. All it took was making some weird noises in a dark place. Snatching away a few items when they weren't looking. Breaking just a little piece of the walls to rain down on them. They'd always pack up and quickly leave, safe from harm.
And this was what Mom had wanted after all, right? She'd scare them away. Just… not right away. And without hurting them.
And for a while, it worked out well. Until one day…
Persephone didn't get much sleep that night.
In lieu of her usual bluster, she had frozen. She did nothing.
Leaving wasn't an option with the door locked, but she could have called the police. As her dreams kept reminding her, though, the little mess of fabric and ectoplasm slumped on her spare pillow was slowly stealing her mind.
She just had to stay quiet. To keep her head down. Just let them do their work so that she could be free…
Percy hardly bothered cleaning herself up that morning, throwing her hoodie overtop her pajama top, leaving her hair uncombed, and her teeth unbrushed. The steadily-growing bags beneath her eyes had made great strides overnight.
She lacked the energy to even care about what she'd seen in the night. The fact that Haedys had been stalking her whenever she was hiding away up in the Brass Tower was hardly even surprising, at this point. There was only one thing she had to acknowledge.
"You ate Passion Purple," she growled at the Misdreavus with a bitter side-eye as, as she threw herself haphazardly together. "I never found that color again."
Haedys flattened slightly, giving a guilty murmur. It had tasted terrible, too.
That was the extent to which either of them wanted to acknowledge it, though. Did it matter, at this point?
When Kona came to collect her for the day, he couldn't control himself but comment on her state.
Or perhaps he didn't even try.
"Well, you look particularly terrible today!" he remarked, cheerful as always while they wandered into the floor's elevator lobby.
Persephone perked up slightly with surprise when he stepped over to push the 'down' button. They hadn't worked outside of this floor yet.
In spite of Kona's callousness, his mocking cheer did simmer a bit when glanced over at Haedys to see the Pokémon looking equally as dour. "You seem… in poor spirits as well," he noted more respectfully. "Is that because of her, or did something happen?"
Percy and Haedys didn't do much to conceal the knowing look they passed each other. They could snitch here and now, but they'd already seen how seriously Kona took Coriander's threats. If she had wanted to cry for help, she would have been best off just calling the cops.
"Just tired," Percy quickly lied. It was obviously untrue, but the Ding! of the elevator saved her. The moment the doors had opened a foot wide she was hurrying to squeeze between them. And by the time Kona had joined her, she was quickly changing the topic. "Why are we going downstairs today?"
Kona didn't answer at first, instead watching them both skeptically to pry any acknowledgement of their obvious discomfort. But he eventually gave with a subtle shrug.
"We keep the more practical labs in the basement. Today's tests might be a bit more… mm, hm…" He chewed his lip and considered his words carefully. "Ah! Explosive, than usual."
Persephone blinked. That was the first flag crimson enough to tear her worries away from their predicament and towards their immediate task. Haedys let out a worried squeak and stared at Percy nervously, silently hoping that she wasn't the one expected to be doing the exploding.
Not that it would really make a difference.
"Explosive," Percy repeated back dryly. "Why would anything to do with this situation be explosive?"
There was another Ding! as the elevator stopped rumbling and their weight returned. The doors rolled open, revealing a wide and unfinished hall sprawling out in front of them, in stark contrast to the clinical spaces above. Metal beams sprawled like giant spiderwebs along the ceiling, and cold gray concrete comprised the floor below. In spite of the hall's width, it was entirely empty and the walls undecorated. Green, numbered doors and the occasional large shutters dotted the walls at regular intervals, giving no hint of what lay beyond them. This section of the building was clearly not made for comfort or for presentation.
"Mm. I think I should save that explanation for the expert," Kona hummed, his mood dimming as they entered this space.
Percy's stomach tensed, and Haedys tried burrowing into her hair like a Diglett. The "experts" so far had ranged from unpleasant to actively threatening her. She could only pray on Grand Ho-oh's feather that it wasn't Coriander today.
Kona seemed to know exactly where he was going in this non-descript place, approaching a uniformly-drab door number "8" and turning it open. The chamber inside was just as dreary in aesthetics but seemed carefully constructed. Alone it was a long, skinny chamber with a desk that ran the length of the room and was covered in computer terminals and notebooks. But the desk ran parallel to a window that gazed into another, larger chamber. That one was completely empty, and with its drab interior of thick concrete looked eerily akin to a dungeon, save for the strange array of durable-looking sensors and cameras that snaked along the walls throughout the room. A thick, vault-like door between these two rooms appeared to be the only entrance.
A single member of the staff awaited them, and Persephone breathed a sigh of relief to see it wasn't Coriander. Somehow Cayenne— the weirdo luring Haedys off in the middle of the night with sweets— had become one of the least threatening people in this place.
"What the heck is this?" she demanded, a tiny spark of defiance returning with that reassurance.
"Containment chambers," Cayenne replied somberly, paying no mind to the sass. He turned to greet her, letting the light glancing off of his visor-like glasses. "For Pokémon that are presently dangerous or for tests which may produce destructive effects."
Haedys let out a whimper and wormed her way further towards Percy's neck. The woman's spine shivered from the cold goop pressing against her spine, and she reached up to yank the ghost off. But that only made her squirm more to try and evade it.
"You keep containment chambers in the basement? Doesn't seem the least bit ominous?" she muttered. Despite the attempt at impudence, she couldn't meet his eyes to follow through with it. She awkwardly pulled a chair out from the desk and sat down.
To her surprise, Cayenne didn't seem to have a response to that. He stared at her briefly with an expression that was too blank to read, but undeniably intense nonetheless.
"Make of it what you will," he finally said, turning back to the terminal he was working with.
"It is quite tasteless when you put it that way, isn't it?" Kona agreed. "But rest assured, there's no ill intent here today. We just can't be destroying the upstairs labs with this test."
"…Mi…?" Haedys squeaked, her face poking out of Percy's flowing hair to question Kona.
Kona stared blankly at her a moment with his mouth open in confusion. "Err… yes. You? I mean-" His eyes turned over to Persephone expectantly.
Percy grumbled to herself—when had she become the Pokémon whisperer?
"She wants to know why she's going to be 'exploding'," Percy translated.
Before Kona could respond, Cayenne cut in. "Did Coriander share our initial findings with you as I'd asked?"
She nodded. "Is this about the whole… 'aura twisting' thing?"
There was a momentary pause, like Cayenne had been preparing to launch into a spiel and hadn't been prepared for its redundancy.
"Yes, actually." For a moment the stoic scientist looked genuinely impressed. "Aura is a complex science. So much so that many people treat it like magic. But it is still a science. The right quantities, of the right types of aura, applied at the right time, in the right sequence, will produce very consistent effects. Colloquially, we call those recipes a Pokémon's 'moves'. But these known-good recipes represent only a tiny fraction of possible recipes," Cayenne explained.
"So Pokémon can just… make up entirely new moves whenever they want by adding extra sugar?" Persephone asked dryly, letting the absurdity speak for itself.
"Normally, no. Most of those recipes are genetically defined. Common patterns like moves are derived from ancient genetic ancestors, while species-specific expressions like a Charmander's eternal flame are more recent developments. Phylogenetically speaking. Under normal circumstances, Pokémon are biologically required to express aura along these developed pathways."
"…So Haedys is like… a mutant or something," Percy concluded.
"Mi!" the Misdreavus protested.
"Hey, mutants can be cool," Persephone countered, throwing her hands up defensively.
But in spite of Haedys complaint, Cayenne nodded. "It's possible."
Persephone frowned, considering something. "Okay but like, why? I hated biology, but aren't Pokémon supposed to like, grow to be stronger or something? Why would they seal off everything else?"
Cayenne let out a dry chuckle. "And that's where we get to the blast chamber. Because most 'recipes' aren't very useful. Mixing aura patterns at random is far more likely to blow up in a Pokémon's face than do something useful—and even if it did, without well-established pathways it would be difficult for them to reproduce the same effect intentionally. Pokémon evolved to instill only the most useful, reliable aural pathways."
Percy's shoulders sank a bit. "So you're saying this happened out of sheer awful luck," she concluded, expression flattening in a deep lack of amusement. "She couldn't even do it again if she wanted to?"
Cayenne's teeth tore at the edge of his lip, and he glanced at Haedys. "That's… what I'd like to determine."
He turned back to the terminal and typed for a moment. There was the sound of something heavy unlatching, and then a metallic clacking as the door into the 'blast chamber' began to slowly roll up. Without fully turning from the console he nodded for Haedys to enter.
The Misdreavus wormed herself out from Persephone's hair and floated cautiously up to the door. The loud rattling was making her tense as it continued to ascend further up into the air. She stared fixated into the large empty chamber, and Percy didn't need a special link to sense her clear apprehension. Her little red eyes flitted back to warn her trainer.
This was… this was just like the bad places her mom had warned her of. She didn't like it. If she went in, would they let her out?
"I'm going to be right here. It's not like I can go anywhere else, right?" Persephone grumbled back. She was tied here in more ways than one, at this point. "You're just going to be right on the other side of a window for a little bit."
Haedys held her gaze for a while, gathering some solace in the connection. Percy wasn't even flinching at the eye contact anymore. The Misdreavus nodded with a small squeak of affirmation and floated through. The moment before she did, Persephone felt something that made her wince.
She felt trust from her Pokémon. And that made her squirm with guilt.
Soon Haedys was peering back through the glass, and the door was clanking downwards again.
"Is this really necessary?" Persephone asked, scowling at the cacophonous thing.
Cayenne was about to answer when Kona cut in for him. "Might I remind you that Explosion is a natural aura expression? Grand Lugia's plume, the powers of the firstborns are natural aura expressions! Unless you'd like to gamble being on the receiving end of a Roar of Time then yes, I do believe the blast chamber is necessary."
Persephone couldn't stop herself from snickering, glancing over to the foot-and-a-half puppy-eyed ghost pouting on the other side of the glass and imagining them trying to rend time with their cry. Her mental image looked more like the Squeak of Seconds.
The caricature only made Haedys puff her cheeks more and give a Growl that supported Percy's hypothesis. Her grin widened.
"Alright. The goal here is to see if she can twist aura, and how much control she has over it," Cayenne explained, kicking off the wall to send his chair flying towards another terminal where he began working again. "Haedys—can you remember at all what you did that night?"
Haedys blinked at him and tilted her head. She was staying close to the window, wanting to still feel included with the group. She considered a moment before shaking her head frantically. She had just sort of panicked and done… something.
"Well, for now just try your best to reproduce that," Cayenne instructed. He pressed a button, and the sensors snaking along the walls of the blast chamber began to light up. "Take your time."
Haedys glanced down at the ground and frowned. Persephone could feel the gears in her little head turning, but it was all… Pokémon stuff that didn't mean much to her. Why would she need to understand how moves worked from the Pokémon's perspective?
She pulled out another chair and sat backwards on it, slumping over the back and considering lunch as she watched her Pokémon.
The Misdreavus floated gently back and forth, her skirt swishing and her lip twisting as she desperately tried to figure out what to do. Her eyes would occasionally turn in front of her and tighten with focus as the little ghost poured energy into forming an orb— perhaps some sort of nascent Shadow Ball. But it never fully materialized, and Haedys would let it break apart with a disappointed pout and return to swishing thoughtfully.
This went on for several minutes as Percy melted further and further down the chair's back with boredom. She considered trying to help but found herself devoid of ideas for how. So the boredom continued.
Even Kona seemed to be losing his patience, leaning back against the wall and tapping an elaborate tune against it with his fingers. Only Cayenne was engaged by these affairs, rapidly swapping his attention between watching Haedys directly and observing the readings his terminal was receiving.
"These signatures are unusual," he muttered with an excited undertone. It was hard to tell if it was to anyone, other than himself. "Not twisting yet, but…"
Persephone's nose twitched and she raised her hand to nudge it. "Isn't it supposed to be some kind of Mismagius thing, anyways?"
Cayenne froze, the man suddenly snapping his gaze to eye her in surprise. He covered that quickly by adjusting his glasses and frowning. "…You did your research," he noted warily.
Percy squinted at the odd reaction. But before she could question it, her nose twitched again and she could feel its agitation. It was building as she inhaled. She raised her head back, taking a deep breath, and fleetingly locked eyes with Haedys'.
Ah-choo!
Persephone was prepared for the enormous sneeze she let out, spreading her disease into the air. She was not prepared for the tremendous cloud of frost that Haedys simultaneously spewed out into her own face.
The woman and the Misdreavus simultaneously let out pained cries, falling to the floor in unison as they felt half their face freeze over. Hands and hair clutched at their face as the sting remained long after the impact.
The two men in the room instantly shot up. Cayenne swooped down to check Persephone's face, as Kona slammed the button to open the blast chamber and slid under the door the moment a crack had formed.
Still squealing, Persephone cradled a reddened face. There was no visible injury, yet she felt a stinging, freezing cold.
On the other side of the glass, Kona scooped up Haedys, on whom the impact was far more clear. Jagged shards had fused onto her face as if she'd just eaten a clean hit from an Ice Beam. The Misdreavus was giving a whimpering cry but didn't seem seriously harmed.
"This… is what I meant 'blowing up in a Pokémon's face'," Cayenne muttered through a grimace as he propped Persephone's arm over his shoulder and helped her up.
"But why is it in my face?" Percy whined, gently shoving him off of her as she stood up on her own. Her fingers scraped at her face to try and pry ice free, but there was nothing there.
Kona carried Haedys in with them in his arms. There was a fleeting moment where he met Persephone's eyes with a dirty look, before begrudgingly handing her the ghost.
Persephone cradled the Misdreavus against her and began quickly picking the ice off of her face, breaking shards free and scraping away the rest. She could feel the relief on her own face— as well as the bizarre sensation of her fingers pressing against phantom cheeks.
Haedys sent Percy her gratitude, relaxing into her trainer's arms with a sense of safety. Not finding the words or thoughts to reply, Persephone just scoffed. She'd been trying to relieve her own face, too. She didn't deserve gratitude for that.
"Was there really no safer way to do this?" Kona snapped at Cayenne. There was none of his usual smug pretense in it.
Cayenne's gaze hardened, ready to retort, but he wavered. His frown deepened and he glanced aside. "Considering the nature of your ask was inherently uncontrollable, no, not really. But it's drawn from her own aura, and thus limited by her own power— it's ultimately no more dangerous than a battle."
Kona scoffed, twisting his lips in disgust. "Of course you would have no concern for a Pokémon's pain."
Cayenne tightened his scowl, fist curling. "That's not true," he growled defensively. "I warned you about this."
Kona's gaze drilled into him. But he had no further retort, and the tension broke. The man's shoulders relaxed, and he looked back to Percy and Haedys.
"Well, whatever. That confirms it anyhow. Congratulations, Haedys, for being the first Pokémon in the world to use 'Icy Sneeze'," Kona said, letting his theatrics return with a sweeping gesture of congratulation.
Persephone decided a dirty look was the only response he needed, as she finished rubbing the last of the frost from Haedys' face. The ghost puffed her cheeks in and out a few times, testing the flexibility, before giving a happy squeak and prying free from Percy's arms.
Haedys shook herself vigorously before pausing and thinking for a moment. Cayenne was right, it wasn't so bad. It hurt, but mainly because she wasn't expecting it. She thought a bit longer before steeling her gaze and nodding firmly. She was okay to continue.
Persephone blanched and raised a hand to dissuade her. "No, you're not."
"Percy, dear?" Kona interjected, leaning in towards the duo. "Care to translate 'mimi' for the rest of us?"
She squinted at him like he was crazy before realizing that last thought from Haedys wasn't just a thought. Somehow, her squeaking vocalizations had actually made a degree of sense to her.
"She uh, said she wants to continue. But like—I don't!" Percy quickly asserted. Her hand moved rub her freshly-warmed cheek.
"Mm. Unfortunate," Cayenne muttered, tapping a finger against the rim of his glasses. Blue lights pulsed on the inside of the lens as he stared intently at Haedys. "I would have liked to know if we could reproduce any of that."
Kona's head perked up slightly, gears turning inside. "Well hold on, now— she said she's good to continue?" he asserted, looking up at Cayenne like a child who'd been given coal for Christmas.
Cayenne stared blankly at him. He gestured to Percy. "…And she just said no. She's not a Pokémon— she's not as hardened to taking attacks. So long as any harm is mirrored, we'll need to find a different way to test."
Kona gaped at him in betrayal before finding his focus and balling his fists. "Well she will need to tough that out a bit- reproducing these effects is exactly what we're all here for! If we could reproduce her bonding effect and instill those aural pathways in other Pokémon, can you imagine how it would change society? One day it could simply be a TM! Binding people and Pokémon together— elevating the relationship between man and beast!"
Cayenne and Persephone leaned away from him in unison, both sharing several unspoken thoughts about Kona's fantasy playing out how he'd imagined.
The spice had formed on Persephone's tongue, ready to snap out and singe Kona with harsh words for his attempt to bulldoze past her consent. But before it could launch, Coriander's face flashed in her mind and the words fell away into that pit in her stomach. The two weren't aligned, as best she could tell, but would fighting against participating in tests count as interfering with the researcher's work? She stood paralyzed by the uncertainty, Haedys shuddering at the second-hand exposure.
"Is— is this actually helpful to finding a cure at all?" she finally mustered, not meeting anyone's eyes.
Persephone's sudden change in demeanor caught both men's attentions. In a rare moment, the two shared a curious glance with each other. Cayenne opened his mouth to speak, but Kona beat him to it.
"Of course, dear," he asserted. His honeyed smile had returned with an uncanny speed. "We need to know how it works if we want any hope to undo it, after all."
Cayenne gave his temporary-boss a harsh look, but Persephone wasn't paying attention. She shared her own glance with Haedys, before tightening her eyes and nodding with a paradoxical mix of resolution and defeat.
"Fine. Whatever it takes."
Cayenne's cheek swished a bit, and he watched Persephone with mild concern. "Are- are you sure? We can find an alternative meth—"
"And waste time while her condition worsens?" Kona cut in, raising a hand to his mouth as he feigned a dramatic gasp. "If she is willing, surely we should move with haste?"
Cayenne glared at him accusingly, but Kona only smiled in return. The exasperated man let out a sigh and shook his head, turning back to the machinery to mask his expression.
"Fine. But if either of you need to stop, let me know immediately. I won't sit here causing you pain for hours on end," he protested.
Persephone agreed, but it was a lie. There were several times over the next several hours that she wanted to stop. That she muffled pain beneath quiet groans. But Kona had been right— there was no time left to waste.
Over the day of testing, Haedys managed to 'twist' her moves a handful more times. It was far from consistent still, but more than enough proof of Cayenne's theory. The problem was that reproducing anything she did was a pipe dream. Every success produced a radically different effect.
Kona had taken to obnoxiously naming every move she produced. "Icy Sneeze", "Soup Wave", "Face Explosion". And true to Cayenne's warnings, they were lucky if any of them didn't harm themselves— much less do anything useful.
…Hence "Face Explosion".
With no windows, Persephone had no sense for how long they'd sat down there. Her fingers stayed curled around the edge of her chair, gripping tight each time Haedys warned her that a move was coming. She'd only release when a mundane Growl or Confusion would be released without pain. But it felt like an eternity before they finally called it.
"We should stop for dinner," Cayenne relented. He had grown more engaged than Persephone had ever seen him, watching the Misdreavus for hours with a complete fixation. It seemed like he had to practically drag his eyes away from the window in order to press the release button on the blast chamber.
Kona leapt from his chair at the suggestion, nearly dropping his cell phone in the process. His eyes drilled into Cayenne eagerly. "So? What did you find? Can it be reproduced?"
Cayenne scowled, leaning away from the man as if he reeked. "Calm down. That's not how any of this works. We can't so much as think about reproducing it ourselves if even she can't. And—"
He turned to Persephone next, shoulders relaxing as the disgust faded. "—it's unlikely she can untangle the aural pathways without greater control, either. Truthfully, at this point it might be better to pull in more experts to see if we can undo it externally."
Kona's expression flattened at that and he waved a hand dismissively. "We can look into it, but in the meanwhile isn't there anything we can do to like, improve her aura control or something?"
"Greater control comes with age and with practice. If she sticks with it, she'll surely get better— but whether that will ever be good enough to control twisting…" Cayenne's voice fell oddly quiet, and he paused for a moment to stare distantly. "That has never been fully tested."
Kona gave a small sigh and shook his head. "Very well. Just so long as we can prove the concept enough to get continued support from my father, we can keep at it for as long as it takes."
"Your father is…" Cayenne trailed off, eyes narrowing as he selected a word carefully. "…an opportunistic man. He can see the potential long-term investment. The bigger problem for you is the fact that this hinges on an unpaid, anxious subject that I don't imagine wants to stay 'as long as it takes'," he pointed out, looking at Persephone.
Persephone flinched at the sudden attention. "I mean— yeah. I'm not going to…" She wavered as she remembered Coriander's threat. Did he speak for Cayenne as well? "I don't want to stay here forever," she quickly corrected. She hated herself for softening her words.
"You don't need to stay here 'forever'," Kona instantly replied. "Just long enough for us to capture that aura pattern." A pause. "And figure out how to undo it."
There was something overly-intense about Kona's reply that made Persephone take a nervous step backwards. Even if he and Coriander seemed to hate one another, they were united in their determination to keep her under their thumbs.
Haedys had finally squeezed out of the blast chamber and joined Percy, plopping down atop her shoulder. She looked up at her trainer from her perch, prepared to urge the young woman to decline again. To get out of this place.
But she hesitated. She frowned and turned away again remembering Persephone's words from the night before. This was more important to Percy than it was to her. She had… no right to tell her to give up.
The little ghost sank into a sad puddle, dropping down Persephone's shoulder.
Despite Haedys' choice not to push, much of her thoughts still seeped through. Persephone turned away from her just the same and muttered a reply to Kona. "We'll… see how long it takes."
Cayenne watched this exchange with a strange gaze, slowly nodding without ever letting his eyes leave her. "Either way. We have more data already than I can get through today. If we want to continue this, it should be tomorrow."
"It's settled, then!" Kona said, clasping his hands with an eerie grin. "Don't look so dour, Percy—you're still training your Pokémon, just like everyone else in the end. I'm sure she'll be a fearsome little beast when this is over, now won't you?" He learned in to try and squeeze Haedys' cheeks, only for Persephone to swerve her shoulder and the ghost away from his reach.
Haedys appreciated that.