Andrew strolled down a narrow cobblestone street, feet tapping against the cool, hard ground. He could hardly feel the stones, as his mind was elsewhere. Hell, he wasn't even quite sure what part of the city he had wandered into, or why he was wandering.
In a rare sight, he didn't wear his the average Pokemon, he looked like nothing more than another random citizen going about his day. His Bisharp guards had been instructed to follow several meters behind him to ensure they were protecting the Marshtomp.
It seemed to work. He hadn't gotten any strange glares, obnoxious shouts, or punches to the face. Despite this, the air was heavy, and the sky was filled with thick, dark clouds.
Humid.
That was the word he was looking for. It was the most humidity he had experienced since coming to Grandeport. It felt oddly… nice. Andrew had felt no appreciation for the humidity as a human. But being out in nature, feeling the droplets of water in the air—it was almost like he could breathe easier. Even in his somber mood, he felt he could run a marathon.
He paused, taking in a deep breath. The salty ocean air entered his lungs as his heart began to slow. It was the best deep breath…
Ever.
I guess being a Marshtomp is still full of surprises. At least it's a good one this time.
Andrew continued down the road absentmindedly. He went into an alley before craning his head back to make sure the Bisharps were still following; they appeared behind him after a few moments. Satisfied, he made his way through the alley onto another, busier street.
It didn't take a meteorologist, or a weather-sensing Swampert to figure it was soon bound to rain. Or a damn psychic type. I wonder if Jason was in Western Grandeport? If I have to bail that asshole out of the torture prison I swear to god—
His thought was interrupted by a yell.
"Our comrades died!"
A mass of voices, what sounded like a large crowd repeated back. "OUR COMRADES DIED!"
"Goddamnit," Andrew murmured to himself. "Are we really doing this crap again?"
Andrew followed the shouting. Pokemon on the street were moving away from the noise, though not at a particularly quick or urgent pace. That brought Andrew some solace. Eventually, the buildings and shops became familiar. He recognized the street, realizing he was en route to the main square.
He was hardly shocked.
Upon arrival, the square was filled with Pokemon of various shapes and sizes. They had gathered in a demonstration of some sort, with a speaker yelling to the crowd on a podium erected on the opposite side of the square—a Pokemon Andrew could not make out.
He sighed and rolled his eyes.
A protest? Really? Don't these people have jobs?
Suddenly, Andrew felt a sensation on his cheek. It was quick, sudden, but oddly familiar. Like it was something he felt every day… But he couldn't quite put his finger on it. His head slowly turned to the side.
Standing next to him was none other than Thomas! He had a notebook and pencil in his vines, and his signature satchel draped over his shoulder.
I never realized how cute he looked in that thing. And how it compliments his eyes… Arceus, why does he look so handsome right now?
In Andrew's infatuated state, he failed to realize why his Bisharp guards had suddenly started running over—or why they looked so angry. In one swift motion, one of the Bisharp's dove over to Thomas. The guard's claw went straight under his tail, grabbing it and hosting Thomas right over his back without even a scratch.
"Gah!" he yelled, tail dangling in the air. "Put me down you hooligan!"
Andrew held out his flippers. "Woah, put him down! Thomas is with me! He just… accidentally bumped into me with his face."
The Bisharp narrowed his eyes at Andrew. He looked to his fellow guard, who nodded, allowing the Bisharp holding Thomas to silently put him back on his feet. The Bisharp stood up tall, continuing to watch the two as if nothing had happened.
"Sorry about that," Andrew said as he scratched the back of his head.
Thomas smiled. "That certainly isn't how I expected it to go. But look on the bright side! I've never been picked up by a Bisharp before—until now!"
"Oh, well that's good," he began to whisper. "To be honest with you, those guys have started creeping me out. I mean, why do they never talk? Are they mute? Because I've never run into a mute Pokemon before… or a mute human. Are mute people even real?"
Thomas took a quick glance at the two guards, only to find them still standing motionless. "I remember reading somewhere that they aren't allowed to talk while offering protection. I think it's a cultural thing with them."
"It's a dumb cultural thing."
"Andrew!" Thomas raised his vine and gave Andrew a light smack on his flipper. "Don't say things like that! You have to be respectful of other Pokemon's cultures."
He rolled his eyes, muterring. "Stupid Pokemon, stupid cultures, I'll show them who's culture—"
"Perhaps we should talk about something else, Andrew?" Thomas interrupted, speaking firmly.
He knew better than to continue.
The Servine pointed at the large crowd. "I came from the office to take some notes on the latest demonstration. I imagine you're here to figure out what it's about?"
"Yeah, something like that."
The speaker Pokemon yelled something Andrew could not make out. But whatever it was, it seemed to get the crowd riled up. Pokemon started leaping in the air and letting out primal, guttural yells for the entire city to hear.
"JUSTICE FOR THE WEST! JUSTICE FOR THE WEST!"
Andrew bumped Thomas on the shoulder. "I think they want justice for the west."
Thomas nodded, saying sarcastically. "Really? I couldn't tell."
The crowd settled down once more and the speaker continued to yell. Andrew was beginning to find it repetitive.
Speaker yells, Pokemon shout back what they yell, and then start going wild. Rinse and repeat. It kind of hurts my would-be ears. Maybe that's their goal. Hurt my ears so much that I do whatever they want.
"Hey Thomas?" Andrew asked. "What do these guys want? Cause they don't look like the usual guild protesters."
Thomas shrugged. "This reminds me more of the protests that would happen under Mirage. These types tend to be less… persistent, if you get what I'm saying. Their goal is to be loud. That is what they want."
"At least they aren't protesting against me," Andrew laughed, waving his flipper.
At that moment, a thought occurred to him. Oh god, I just jinxed myself. I know how this works, god—Arceus—Zeus, the dude's fucking with me. I bet right now they'll all start chanting 'fuck Andrew' or some crap like that.
But it was as if the universe had heard Andrew's complaint. The protesters would not start shouting 'Fuck Andrew,' or any other remotely insulting thing about Grandeport's president. Instead, a different cheer would erupt from the crowd.
It started with one voice. It was a squeaky, high pitched voice—certainly one belonging to a smaller Pokemon.
"Andrew!"
Andrew? He thought. Do they recognize me?
That was not the case as hardly any eyes were on him and Thomas. The 'Andrew' chants began to grow. One simple word—name, growing louder and louder, echoing from one corner of the square to another.
"Andrew! Andrew! Andrew!"
"Do my ears deceive me?" he questioned Thomas as a smile began to creep onto his face.
The Servine also had a look of awe on his face. His eyes glittered, his pencil scribbled. "They're chanting for you? I'm just as shocked as you are."
"You're shocked?!" Andrew snapped at Thomas, shooting him a glare. "Are you saying that people don't love me?"
Thomas raised his vines in defense. "What?! No! I never said that! It's just… you know about the other protests, they generally haven't been too… n-nice to you. Right? Yeah, I love you Andrew. I'm sure the people of Grandeport do too."
Andrew cracked a grin. "Hey, I'm just messing with you. Sort of."
"Oh," the Servine let out a nervous laugh. "All right."
The chanting had died down throughout the course of their bickering. There was still the occasional voice, but it was for the most part drowned out by the words of the speaker or the general noise of the crowd.
All was well. Smiles had glued themselves to Andrew's and Thomas' faces. For once, the urge to scream at the sight of a protest had not possessed Andrew.
All was well.
…Until another voice called out a different chant. It didn't sound like it was from the crowd, instead being called out by a loud Pokemon on one of the side streets that fed into the square. Regardless, Andrew heard it loud and clear.
"Absent Andrew! Absent Andrew!"
The Marshtomp's smile quickly fell into a frown.
"What did he just say?!"
"Actually," Thomas stuck up a vine. "I think it was a she—"
Andrew stomped his foo. "They can't say that! Absent Andrew? What does that even mean?!"
It was a bit hard to see because of his short stature, but Andrew could barely make out another crowd pouring out from the side street from which he had heard the shout 'Absent Andrew.' Feet pattered quickly against the cobblestone. A pressure, a heat, a rage began to build up inside of Andrew.
"They can't do that! They can't say that! They can't come here!"
Thomas was too busy writing down the events in his notebook. "A counter protest! This certainly got a whole lot more interesting."
"More interesting? I'll show you interesting!" Andrew growled before turning around and pointing to one of the Bisharps. "You. Go grab one of the people saying bad things about me."
Of course, the Bisharp said nothing in response to this command. Without retaliation, he proceeded to walk straight forward into the crowd, quickly disappearing into the mess of Pokemon.
Thomas gave Andrew a concerned look. "Are you sure that was a good idea?"
"Eh, what could go wrong?" Andrew asked with a shrug.
Several minutes of shouting and chanting passed before the Bisharp returned. Hoisted over his shoulder was a Heliopotile, the electric type kicking in flailing in a desperate attempt to escape the Bisharp's tight, firm grasp. He resumed his position next to the other of his kind, paying no attention to the Pokemon even as she began to yell for help.
Luckily it seemed nobody could hear—or cared enough to help her.
"Punch her in the stomach," Andrew commanded.
The Heliopotile screeched back in desperation. "What in Arceus' name is wrong with you? Why are you doing this to me?"
The Bisharp holding the Helioptile grabbed her arms and pinned them against his torso, positioning the Helioptile in such a way that she was exposed and vulnerable. The other Bisharp pulled back and chambered his fist. Using the blunt side of his claw, the Bisharp delivered a quick sucker punch to the Heliopotile's stomach.
"Andrew…" Thomas pestered.
The Marshtomp side-eyed him. "What? Can't you see I'm in the middle of giving out justice?"
"I don't think you're being very nice right now, Andrew," he humphed, crossing his vines.
The Heliopotile's eyes went wide. "Oh my, wait a second! You're a Marshtomp! And I… I recognize your face. You're Andrew! You're Absent Andrew! Western Grandeport was destroyed while you sat in your castle all high and mighty feasting and laughing at us peasants."
"Excuse me?" questioned Andrew. "That went from, like, zero to twenty in five seconds."
She didn't relent, beginning to yell out. "Absent Andrew! Absent Andrew! I found Absent Andrew!"
"That's it! Cover her mouth," Andrew commanded and stuck up his chin. The Bisharp abided, raising his claw to stifle the Heliopotile's mouth. She tried to yell but was only able to create weak, quiet, muffled grunts.
Andrew stuck up a finger. "Clearly, this one knows too much. Yes, she snooped in places one mustn't snoop! She toiled with forces far beyond her understanding and now must pay the ultimate price. As the President of Grandeport—or maybe just some random passerby who was deeply offended and happened to command powerful guards—I sentence you to life in prison!"
She tried to yell out something else. Maybe it was a long, exaggerated 'Noooooooooooooooo.' Or maybe it was some weird prayer or planned out final words. Andrew couldn't know.
"You two, go take her to wherever criminals go."
The Bisharps swiftly disappeared back into the crowd, carrying the poor Helioptile to a place Andrew could only imagine.
Thomas had a stern expression on his face. His foot was tapping against the ground and his eyes were narrowed. "Andrew, that wasn't very nice."
"Yeah, I know," he sighed.
Thomas opened his notebook back up. "I understand she didn't like you, but throwing people like that in jail is a bad look."
"But she deserved it!"
"It doesn't matter what she deserved," the Servine placed a vine on Andrew's shoulder. "I'm just worried about you. I'll always love you, really, Andrew. But I realize that you have a bit of a temper."
"Who doesn't?"
Thomas went quiet and pointed a vine at himself.
Andrew shrugged. "Fair enough."
"Just be careful. If you're not careful for your own wellbeing, be careful for mine," Thomas bore a warm smile, Andrew copied it. Thomas again turned his gaze back down to his notebook, darting between the crowd and the paper and quickly jotting down notes.
He looked back at Andrew. "One last thing."
Andrew felt his neck, remaining himself that he didn't have his bandana on. "What is it?"
"Did throwing that Helioptile in jail… did it make you feel good?"
Andrew flashed a grin. A smug, cold, devilish grin.
"Absolutely."
"Chloe! Long time no see!" Andrew held out his flippers as if he were intending to embrace the Flaaffy in a hug. She cocked her head to the side, clearly confused at this gesture. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Andrew put his flippers back down to his sides and cleared his throat. "How has business been lately?"
"Things have gone well, I think." She scratched the back of her fluffy head. "I've given out the money to everyone on the list you gave me. I haven't heard back from any of them, though."
Andrew looked up at the sky. "Nobody has come knocking at my door complaining… Well maybe that's not true. But nobody's said anything about not receiving the money, so I think you're in the clear. I don't think they send out thank-you cards for this type of stuff."
"Yeah, alright. So why did you want to meet me… in the middle of a giant open field?" The Flaaffy held out her arms as her voice echoed.
The two Pokemon stood out in the center of an open field. The hot sun beat down on their skins, much to Andrew's displeasure who was forced to shield his gaze with a flipper above his eyes. The field itself stretched a couple hundred feet in diameter. It was surrounded by tall, looming trees which blew in the soft wind.
The only exit was a small dirt path hidden away in a narrow passage between two tree trunks. At the very edge of the field, by the path, stood the Bisharps. From their distance, they looked like little more than two gray dots on the horizon.
"I wanted to discuss some things with you somewhere private. And when I asked my, uh, partner, the most private place within an hour of town, this is what he showed me. Pretty nice, isn't it?" Andrew beamed.
Chloe rubbed her foot against the long, overgrown grass. "I guess this is pretty private. Though, I don't understand why we couldn't have just met in your office."
"You never know who's listening in that old place. Ears up against doors," he shuddered. "That place is creepy anyways. Plus, isn't this more fun?"
"I guess. But I can't hang out with my friends when you drag me out to the middle of nowhere," Chloe said, shooting Andrew a glance.
A scowl overtook his face. "Well I'm sooooo sorry you can't hang out with your friends. What's next? Do you want a vacation?"
"Actually my mom was—"
Andrew stomped, letting out a childish whine. "Shut up! That was rhetorical. I have a new task for you."
Chloe looked at the ground. "What do you want?"
"It's quite simple!" Andrew leaned forward, pointing to the sky. "I'd like you to give some money to a Dragonite by the name of Magnanimous. He was some war hero guy and even though he's probably a spy or something I want to give him some money for getting stabbed in the back, or leg, or something like that."
Chloe perked up. "Wait, you want me to give money to Magnanimous Dragonite? You mean the Magnanimous Dragonite?!"
"Well I only know of on Pokemon with that—"
"Oh my Arceus! You want me to give money to Magnanimous Dragonite! That's so cool! He's practically a celebrity! I'd never let Candace hear the end of it if I actually got to meet Magnanimous!" Chloe said in the most cheery, excited tone imaginable. A large smile beamed across the Flaaffy's face. Andrew could hardly believe it.
He gave an awkward grin. "Are you a fan of his?"
Chloe quealed, only growing more enamored. "A fan?! Magnanimous is a legend! I mean, he practically saved Western Grandeport by himself. And who could forget the infamous pancaked Sprigatito! Arceus, you have no idea how hard I laughed when I saw that in the papers."
"...He didn't seem to be too proud of it," Andrew humphed, a feeling of envy beginning to build and burn in his chest. Stupid Flaaffy thinks that stupid Dragonite is cooler than me. I'm so cool. Like, the coolest guy ever.
The Flaaffy reeled, taken aback by Andrew's comment. "Wasn't proud of it? What are you talking about? Did you talk with him or something?"
"He was in my office for a very important meeting last week where he detailed the events of his escapades to me. It was truly inspiring. I definitely showed him the respect he deserved," he remarked with a nod, trying to assure himself of his own words.
Her paws began to shake. "You actually got to meet him? Before I did?! Is it true that Magnanimous has the record for being the strongest Pokemon ever? Did he ask about me? Is it true he's missing an antenna? And does he really have the best singing voice?"
"Yes, yes, I don't know, no, no, how the hell would I know if he was a good singer? We didn't do karaoke."
Chloe tilted her head to the side. "Kara-what?"
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll exist in a few hundred years."
The Flaaffy shook her head quickly as if she were trying to get something off of it. "Whatever. But I accept the job! I promise I'll deliver as much money as you want me to." She made a fist and lowered her voice. "And I'll be damn good at it too."
"Alright…" Andrew trailed off. I'm the one who says damn! "I wasn't asking if you accepted the job, though. I'm telling you that you're giving money to the Dragonite and I expect you to do it as secretly and efficiently as possible."
"Of course."
He humphed. "And I don't want you to tell anyone that you met him. Clearly he is more of a liability than I imagined—but no matter! My generosity for those who fight for our country knows no bounds."
Chloe cracked a sly grin. "Whatever you say, Marshtomp."
"Excuse me?!" Andrew said, a sharpness to his voice. "I'm not screwing around here. Get it done quietly. This is just another task. Understand?"
"...Yes."
Western Grandeport was looking a lot better. To be fair, Andrew didn't have much of a frame of reference for what the neighborhood had looked like prior to the attack, but the clearing of the smog was a major improvement.
Buildings—what was left of them—were being rebuilt. Pokemon hauled lumber and laid bricks. Andrew eyed a Gurdurr holding up a wooden beam along with a Blastoise. A Steelix used its head as an elevator, lifting bricks up several stories so a team of Lycanrocs could set them.
Charlie stood beside Andrew, the two of them, of course, accompanied by a pair of Bisharp guards.
"This feels nice." Andrew said calmly, taking a deep breath.
Charlie scratched his chin. "Yeah, I'm surprised how quickly I was able to organize the rebuilding efforts here. At this rate we'll be done fixing this place up before the end of our lifetimes."
"What did you just say?" Andrew asked, turning to the Raichu.
"Uh…" he narrowed his eyes. "They'll be done before the end of our lives? It was just a joke."
"No, before that."
A confused look had overtaken the Raichu. "About organizing the reconstruction effort?"
"About how I organized it, right?" The Marshtomp spoke with a hint of fury.
Charlie rolled his eyes. "You barely did anything! I was the one who sent out all the letters, got the money in order, did all the council stuff, like always! What did you do?"
"I was the one who suggested we rebuild the city." Andrew deadpanned.
"Oh, like the city wouldn't have been built if you hadn't made that insightful suggestion? Give me a break." Charlie groaned. "At best you made this happen a month earlier."
Andrew was finding it hard to hold back the jet of water bubbling within him. He could feel his throat go cold and his muscles tense. His mind was already running through all the ways he could attack Charlie for the horrible insult which had been thrown his way.
Shoot him in the eyes. Throw him on the ground. Throw him on the ground and then shoot him in the eyes. Now that's smart.
Andrew stared at the ground, murmuring. "There are people who had their homes destroyed. I think that month makes a difference."
"I'm surprised you care, considering these are the Pokemon who plotted against you," Charlie pointed at one of the houses under construction. "The Pokemon who lived there could have killed an officer."
Suddenly, the Marshtomp's anger shifted. "...They plotted against me?"
"Do I have to remind you that this part of the city tried to succeed from the country?"
Andrew felt a queasiness in his stomach. "B-But that was the Resistance. Not the people of Western Grandeport."
"What kind of people do you think join the Resistance? Why do you think they chose Western Grandeport? Face it, Andrew. They're plotting against you," Charlie said. However, something odd caught Andrew's eye. For just a second, maybe even less, Charlie smiled. It was a smug, self-satisfied grin: the kind Andrew would choose to bear after doing something like throwing a Heliopotile in prison.
His heart began to race. This isn't right! Charlie is plotting against me, I know it! It's all him!
Andrew stammored back. "I have to go home!"
"What? Why?" Charlie asked, confused.
But Andrew did not stick around to give the Raichu any response. He had already started running, dodging between Pokemon and through Western Grandeport before reaching familiar streets. Houses grew larger, so did their yards. He was home.
By the time he had walked through the front door, it was already midday. Not a sound echoed through the halls.
"Thomas?" he called out down the hall.
No response.
Andrew knew the Servine was still at work. "I'll bet you he's writing right now," he said to himself. "God, life as a writer must be so boring. Imagine dedicating your life to putting words on a paper hoping strangers will care enough to read them. Guess I'm lucky."
Without any task, and with the entire house to himself, he began aimlessly wandering down the creaky hallway. Loose floorboards creaked and groaned under his weight. For no reason at all, Andrew went through an open space in the wall leading to the living room.
He eyed a couch. It was large, red, and looked awfully soft…
"A little nap wouldn't hurt, right? When's the last time I treated myself to one in the house?"
Andrew climbed up onto the couch and laid down. He stretched out his legs, then his flippers, before letting out another yawn. His eyes grew heavy as the afternoon sun whisked him off to the land of dreams.
"Andrew Marshtomp. Alas, ew meet again!"
The Marshtomp—wait. There was no Marshtomp. No, there was a human. A human named Andrew floated in the endless black void. He could see his hands, raising them up and wiggling his fingers.
"Man, been a while since I did that."
"It sah!" boomed a deep voice. "I apologize for us meeting under these circumstances, former namuh."
Andrew became puzzled at the voice saying 'namuh.' "What is a namuh? Did I used to be one?"
Suddenly, cracks formed in the void. Small white lines grew larger and larger as pieces of inky black began to fall and disintegrate. The white lines turned bright. A brightness so magnificent that Andrew knew if he were awake they would do more to his eyes than simply blind them.
"The backwards speaking si yet to leave entirely. But it appears ouy have adjusted enough that we can communicate clearly enough," said Arcus.
Arceus.
The Pokemon god stood—floated in front of Andrew in his mighty glory. He towered hundreds of feet tall, Andrew was barely large enough even as a human to be half the height of his golden claw.
Andrew spoke in a total, humble awe. "You're… you're Arceus?"
"I am Arceus, god of lla. The ruler of everything that is and that lliw ever eb."
He nodded. "That's pretty cool."
"'Cool' is not the word I would use to describe a being such as myself."
"Oh," Andrew tried to break eye contact, but could not look away. "Sorry."
Arceus let out a low hum. "Do not worry, Andrew. Won that you have acclimated to your Pokemon form, we can speak about important matters."
"Important matters?"
"Yes. I can finally reveal ot you why I brought you ereh. Your true purpose. Have you ever wondered why you were transformed and taken to a world not your own, Andrew?"
The human blinked. It was the only thing he could do other than talk. "Not really. I thought it was just something random. I mean—god isn't real."
"Excuse me?" Arceus bellowed, seemingly offended. "I am the ruler of everything that is and that ever will be! I am quite lear."
Andrew shut his eyes. He could feel movement coming back to his body, the bright white void began to shake.
"We have not much time left, Andrew. Before we depart, I shall tell you why I brought you to this world."
Andrew raised his head up, looking Arceus straight in his eyes. "And why might that be?"
"To fix this broken world."
With those words, Arceus vanished. The darkness again began to flood the void, and Andrew too. His hands, legs, body, and soon his vision were all consumed by it.
Andrew rose up from the couch.
Thomas stood in front of him, placing the contents of his satchel onto a nearby table. "I see someone had a nap," he said happily.
Andrew smiled.
"Thomas. I think I'm the messiah."
AN: It appears things are certainly getting… interesting. Andrew is living up to that whole "madness" thing in the title. On a more serious note, this chapter marks the end of the second part of Dissent Into Madness. This means that in theory, we have only one third of the fic left to go. Isn't that crazy?
…However, you may recall me saying in chapter twenty five that we were at the halfway point. I was, and still am aiming to finish DIM in fifty chapters. However, taking my current outline into account, this probably isn't going to happen. I'll provide more updates on that once I have to do the final, hard outline of the finale of DIM.
But until then, thank you for reading! As always, big thanks to DoomHuntley, DaGamestar, Zee102, and Sonic Ramon.
Any and all feedback is appreciated!
Stay safe out there. Don't go mad.