Andrew felt like a wreck. His back hurt, even as he constantly repositioned himself in his chair. His eyes were heavy, his voice was weak, and his mouth was dry. He put a flipper to his forehead as it throbbed in pain.

Goddamnit. Since when do Pokemon get sick? Ugh, Charlie probably poisoned me or something, that would explain it.

Charlie had been on Andrew's mind more than usual. Not that the Raichu was an easy presence to ignore, but he consistently found himself thinking back to ideas of Charlie plotting against him.

I mean, he isn't really. Right? Charlie can't be behind everything that's happened to me. He can't be some evil mastermind. But he did say he was all-powerful… What if I'm wrong? Am I screwed am I—

"Shut up," Andrew said to himself. "You can't be thinking these things. You'll go nuts."

Thinking Charlie's plotting against you will make me go nuts? Kid, you're the one talking to yourself. Only crazy people do that.

Andrew shrugged. "Fair enough."

He took a moment to collect himself and allow his thoughts to settle. They soon turned to the state of the office. It was quiet.

Too quiet, Andrew's mental voice said in a tone emulating that of a cheesy western's hero. Man, I am going crazy.

Despite his overactive thoughts, his office did feel more desolate than usual. Nothing seemed different on the surface. The bookshelves lining the walls remained untouched, his desk was still in relatively good condition, and the sunlight still streamed in from the windows. Everything was normal.

Yet it wasn't.

Andrew rubbed the back of his head. "Maybe it's this headache. That's probably why everything seems so wrong. I'll just walk it off."

The Marshtomp climbed down from his chair and walked out of his office. The crowd of Pokemon that had arrived after Leo and the Resistance's attack had seemingly vanished into thin air. The hallway was empty.

Andrew strolled without any objective in mind. He had learned most of the tricks of Grandeport Castle having stayed in it for such a long time. Though he would still occasionally wind up in a hall or chamber he could not recognize. Luckily, this part of the castle was familiar to him.

He continued to walk, albeit sluggishly. Being up and about did little to alleviate the pain in his head. Instead, his legs now started to ache and ail to be relieved of their duty to support him.

"Full of great decisions today, aren't you, idiot?" he muttered, stopping in preparation to turn back. But right before he was about to start the trek back to his office, he heard a voice.

"Quarterly tax revenues are down, again. This can likely be attributed to the decline of trade due to current international perception of our domestic affairs," it echoed as if spoken in a large, vaulted chamber.

It was coming from an inconspicuous door straight across from him. The hallway was lined with many like it, and nothing in particular stood out about this door. There were no markings, no imperfections, nothing.

Andrew gave it a bored stare. Taxes are boring. However, another voice spoke in response to the first, one he recognized as a familiar Lucario's.

"Are we going to have to raise rates? I know there have been… complaints, about the new tax policies. I don't need another riot on my hands."

"It's not too big of a drop to warrant much concern, yet," the unfamiliar Pokemon answered. "If revenue continues to decrease then I will propose reforms to our tax policy."

Andrew couldn't see Felicia's reaction to this information, but he imagined her giving the stranger some sort of scowl or grimace. Maybe she put her head down or narrowed her eyes at whoever dared say that to her. The possibilities were endless.

Only one way to find out.

Without any hesitation—not taking the time to think of any repercussions of opening a door behind which he had no idea what lay—except for Felicia—Andrew stood up on his tiptoes and gripped the door handle with his fingers.

He slowly opened the door, the object letting out a subtle creek. He didn't open the door fully, instead opting to crack it open barely enough for him to stick his head through.

"The hell is so important that Felicia…"

Andrew fell silent upon seeing the room. It was enormous. Instead of the usual wood composing the floors and walls of the castle, the chamber was crafted entirely out of carefully carved stone. The floor was a marvelous alternating pattern of lightly colored tiles. Grays, whites, peaches, and everything in between dotted the floor to create a welcoming yet orderly collage.

The walls towered beyond a reasonable height, standing a gracious fifty or so feet tall. It was made up of uniform dark-gray stone. The pieces were held together by some mysterious force and slowly arched upward to form a dome. In the center of the dome was a skylight allowing sunlight to beam down, rendering the various mounted lamps on the wall obsolete.

How is there a skylight? We're not on the top floor! Andrew questioned, though he soon put the thought out of his mind.

The room was home to only one thing: a table. However, this table stretched across a great distance, bisecting nearly half of the room. Seats lined each side, mostly filled by Pokemon Andrew didn't recognize. A few did catch his attention, however. A Liepard sat near the left end of the table, Andrew recalling her name as Katherine. Across from her was a Kingambit Andrew found to be familiar, but whose name he could not place.

Sitting at the left head of the table was Felicia. She had her usual calm, matter-of-fact expression. In fact, most of the Pokemon at the table seemed calm. It was not a sight Andrew was used to.

They hadn't taken notice of him, continuing their discussion.

A Scizor positioned on the right side of the table raised a pincer. "I for one am concerned about the decline of commerce. Our gross domestic product has fallen nearly half a percent since Andrew Marshtomo became president, and I am worried this trend will continue."

"Do not worry Mister Scizor," Felicia said with confidence. "Once things settle down I'm sure we'll see an upturn in spending. We're working to correct President Marshtomp's image."

The Scizor shook his head. "What about his behavior?"

"I assure you that I've made it clear to him that his behavior has to improve," Felicia answered as she cracked her knuckles and grinned. "And if it doesn't… then know I've maimed younger."

Andrew felt giddy at Felicia's words. I knew it! I knew it! I knew she was plotting against me! I was right all along! You didn't listen and now look at you, idiot. Feel like an idiot yet? You heard it here first, Felicia's going to beat you up.

A Dusknoir cleared his throat before raising his voice. "Miss Felicia. "Do I have permission to speak?"

"Permission granted, Mister Dusknoir."

He raised his fist…

And unfurled his finger, pointing straight at the door.
"I believe we have a visitor."

The Lucario slowly turned her head in Andrew's direction. They locked eyes.

Uh oh.

Felicia stood up and began quickly making her way to the door. Panicked, Andrew used all his strength to slam it shut.

"Crap, no! Oh god, this can't be how I die. Death by Lucario? It's not fair!"
Andrew slammed his back up against the door in an attempt to prevent Felicia from swinging it open. If I just do this for long enough she's going to give up. She has to!

Andrew heard the clicking of the door handle as Felicia effortlessly opened the door, which swung into the chamber and pushed him away. He slowly turned to face her with a horrified glare.

"Andrew," she muttered.

The Marshtomp began to murmur and shake, his words, barely a whisper. "H-Hi, Felicia. Funny running i-into you h-here!"

Felicia looked down on him with bloodshot eyes. She breathed heavily, her chest rising more and more as she continued to stare at the poor, helpless creature beneath her. "How long have you been here?"

"O-Only a couple minutes. I promise!"

She closed her eyes and held out her paw. Andrew continued to stare up at her, completely frozen.

"You are scared, I see. More than usual," she remarked with her eyes still shut.

Andrew stomped his foot. "Yeah, I'm a bit scared because you just said you were gonna hurt me!"

"I said I was willing to. Not that I would," Felicia corrected, opening her eyes. "Though spying on that meeting is forcing me to reconsider."

He held up his flippers. "Please don't hurt me! I promise that I really didn't mean to spy on you or anything, I heard some weird voices and I just wanted to see what it was about. I pinky swear! Though now that I think about it I don't have pinkies…"

Felicia scowled. "I am going to present you with two options, Andrew."

"Oh, options, that's good," Andrew laughed nervously.

"Your first option is that you walk into that room with me and announce you are resigning as president. And that you're handing over all executive authority to me. The other option is that you let me demonstrate to the ministers in that room that I am the one running this country."

Andrew scratched the back of his head. "How are you going to do that?"

"You'll see," Felicia said with a smile. "Now what will it be?"

Andrew let out a sigh. "Fine. Show them that you're the boss or whatever."

"Excellent choice," the Lucario remarked before opening the door and motioning for him to go in. "After you, sir."

The Marshtomp shot her a sideways glance. "Uh… alright."

He could hear his feet tap against the floor as all eyes fell on him. Despite being let in first, Felicia quickly sped ahead of Andrew and led him to her seat at the table's front. It took him quite a while—an embarrassing, agonizing few moments—to trek from the door all the way to his destination.

Felicia placed a paw on his shoulder before whispering to him. "Stand up on the table."

He obliged, climbing up onto her chair and then leaping onto the table. He put his flippers on his hips and took a long glance at all the Pokemon sitting, all their eyes on him.

His heart pounded. His stomach churned. He felt like he was about to vomit.

"Andrew, please take a few steps forward," Felicia directed.

He craned his head back to see she too had climbed up. He followed her commands again, walking a few paces forward.

"It seems that we have an unwelcome visitor who decided to violate the explicit orders he was given," Felicia announced. "I was not joking with my statement earlier about having hurt Pokemon younger than Andrew. While a part of me feels sorry for what is about to happen, let it be known that I am firmly in control of this country…"

"...And maybe I can knock some sense into you," she whispered to him.

Felicia grabbed the back of Andrew's bowtie. His field of view darted upward as she effortlessly lifted him into the air. A sense of weightlessness overcame him, but so too did a pressure against his neck. The front of his bowtie constricted it like a Seviper.
"Wh-What a-are you doing?" wheezed Andrew, trying his best to draw in oxygen through what little of his windpipe was open.

He knew Felicia was smiling. And that thought was only reinforced as the Marshtomp moved his head to watch her spare paw reel backward.

Goddamnit!

In the blink of an eye, Felicia's paw now balled into a fist, shot forward, and connected straight into the squishy, soft, orange flesh of his stomach. A wave of pain from head to toe—though mostly his gut—washed over every inch of his body. Nowhere was safe. Every limb, fin, and fiber of his being screamed out in pain.

Well… all except his mouth. That was still barely able to take in any air as Felicia continued choking him. Luckily, the Lucario then mercifully dropped Andrew back onto the table. His feet struck the wood but were unable to handle his weight for more than a few moments. His legs buckled and forced his entire body down onto the wood.

Awave of pain shot through him. It was concentrated primarily in his lower half, especially his left leg. It was an ache that only compounded with the one Felicia inflicted—festering and growing stronger with each passing moment. He felt like he was melting.

Everything hurts, everything hurts! Arceus kill me! Just put me out of my goddamn misery!

Felicia, unmoving, stuck her chin up. "Let this be a lesson to those who disobey. Nothing goes unpunished. This meeting of the National Cabinet of the Kingdom of Grandeport is hereby adjourned."

Andrew's vision had become diluted by tears. All he could see were blurry shapes rising from their seats, hastily removing themselves from his view. His breathing was heavy, so loud that it drowned out all other sounds. The pain was no longer worsening, but it was hardly any better.

He laid on the table for a few more moments. Eventually, he felt a fuzzy hand grasp his flipper.

"Let me help you up."

Andrew took Felicia's paw and allowed himself to be pulled up from the ground. Standing hurt, but his legs did not give way.

The Lucario let go of him before climbing down from the table. "I apologize for hurting you, Andrew. I had to prove a point. This was the least painful way I could do that."

"Least painful way?" the Marshtomp seethed. "You hit me!"

"I punched you," Felicia corrected.

Andrew clasped the edge of the table before slowly lowering himself to the floor. He wobbled a bit. The world around for a began to spin like a top—but shifted back to normal after a moment He looked up at Felicia, now feeling lightheaded.

"You hurt me, everything hurts. This is bad. I don't feel good at all."

Felicia humphed. "Then maybe you shouldn't have spied on me at a cabinet meeting. It's not your place."

"Not my place?! Since when do we have cabinet meetings? Or a cabinet?" Andrew pressed. He lurched forward, but quickly reeled back upon a new spur of pain swallowing his legs.

Felicia narrowed her eyes, murmuring. "That's the point…" She cleared her throat. "I apologize that I hurt you, Andrew. I assure you that was never my intention and I hope you feel better soon. Good day."

She began to make her way out of the chamber, her footsteps echoing before her blurry figure disappeared into the exit door. Andrew held out a flipper, trying to yell out, 'Wait!' However, he found his voice refusing to cooperate.

The Marshtomp lowered himself to the floor. His legs were appreciative, alleviating some of his pain in exchange for him taking pressure off them. Still, the rest of his body hurt a great deal. The floor was uncomfortable and caused a dull ache on the back of his head.

He rolled onto his side, causing his gill to lean against the floor. It started hurting.

"Augh!" he cried out, writhing in pain. "Help!"

Andrew's eyes felt heavy. He couldn't bear to let them remain open. Nothing felt quite right—his bones were in the wrong places, or he was too short, too round, too blue and orange, this was not him. Every sensation was wrong. Andrew swore he could feel five fingers. But upon peeking to check, he was reminded yet again that he only had three attached to a flipper with no discernable hand. He was a Marshtomp. Everything hurt. The world was spinning again.

His eyes fell shut.

"Andrew. Back so soon, my child?"

"W-What?" I wondered, staring at my human hand. However, something was not quite right about my—his hand. Yes, it was human in the traditional sense, but the colors weren't quite right. His skin seemed a little too dark, or was it too light? And his thumbs seemed just a tad bigger than they should have been. Was he forgetting what his human hands looked like?

Arceus hummed. "You will return one day to that former state of being. Does it bother you, being a Pokemon, even after all this time?"

He scratched his ethereal head. "Sometimes. It's just odd, y'know. There are these moments in the morning when I get up and I expect to see my old house—my old body. And then it's just…"

I held up what would have been my arm, revealing it to be the flipper of a Marshtomp.

"It is something I understand, Andrew Marshtomp. I, too, was not always like this. I did not always hold the power I have today. Nobody is born a god. But we must remember, that such things take time to get used to. Life changes without our consent."

"Man, that's deep."

Arceus' eyes glowed. "Perhaps it is, young Marshtomp. And I fear great change will make itself known to you once again soon. You must be prepared to face old demons. You will succeed only if you can overcome them."

He waved a flipper, snorting at Arceus' remark. "Face old demons? I think I can do that."

"Doing so will not be as easy as you may believe. I cannot reveal what your future holds, many paths intertwine to form infinite possibilities. I have faith in you, Andrew, as you should have faith in me. You have my blessing to overcome those who stand between us and righteousness by whatever. Means. Necessary," the god stated sternly.

I found myself growing further and further away from Arceus. His gigantic form grew smaller and less precise—less important, in a sense. I felt unchanged, yet somehow different. Perhaps it was the oddity of this dream. Was this even a dream? Was I really in some sort of other realm or was this all my imagination? I had felt the presence Arceus had commanded.

"No! This is not a dream of any kind, Andrew. You must believe and heed my advice or the paths of fate will all lead to your demise. There is a reason I appear to you. You are different. Some may label you as unwell, disconnected, but it is them who are blind. You have been chosen." Said a voice… It sounded both like his and Arceus speaking at once. Andrew did not know how to respond to this information. The facade of the bright, white void began to fade. A chill ran down his spine.

Arceus was no longer visible, the light fading into darkness. Andrew found himself becoming less aware of his body. After a moment, there was no sensation he could still feel.

"Go!" yelled Arceus.

"Yeah, he was telling me that something real bad was going to happen. Or something about life-changing without my consent. To be honest, I barely remember what the guy said. Hopefully it wasn't important," Andrew explained before picking up a mug of tea and slowly sipping it.

Thomas had a weary look. "I see… Have you been having these dreams a lot?"

"Every now and then, but they're definitely recurring."

"Maybe we should take you to see someone who knows stuff about dreams," Thomas remarked as he tapped his chin. "I'm sure we could find a local Musharna specializing in this type of stuff. They could get to the bottom of why you're having all these crazy dreams."

Andrew humphed. "My dreams aren't crazy. Arceus is trying to communicate with me and this is just how he chooses to do it. It's not like you guys have texting or emails."

"Eh… what?" the Servine uttered, tilting his head.

He tugged at his bowtie. "None of that stuff exists here, does it…? Uh, let's just say the guy doesn't go to the post office when he wants to send a letter."

"I'm still skeptical that Arceus is actually speaking to you, Andrew. He's not exactly the type to do that."

Andrew raised his brow. "And how would you know, Thomas? Is he your pen pal?"

"When Pokemon talk about Arceus—or any legendaries speaking to them—it usually means they're crazy. Look, I'm not saying you're crazy, I really believe you are having these dreams and you seem to be interacting with some version of Arceus. But it's not the real one," Thomas tried to explain before taking a sip of tea.

Andrew leaned back. "I get what you're saying, but you can't know it isn't actually Arceus."

"Then why don't you see a Musharna?"

Andrew put his flippers on the table, using them to help him stand up.. "I'll think about it, Thomas. Right now, maybe it'd be best if I went and got some fresh air."

"Are you sure?" Thomas asked with a worried tone. "You're still pretty banged up. I can come with you—"

"It's alright, I can take care of myself," the Marshtomp interrupted, giving him a warm smile. "I've been through worse.

"If you say so," Thomas muttered. He hopped out of his chair, walked to the kitchen counter, and placed his mug in the sink. He reached a vine across the table, extending it out far enough to wrap around the handle of Andrew's mug and gently pull it to the sink.

"Thanks," Andrew said, letting out a relieved sigh.

Andrew left his seat and trudged his way toward the house's entrance. There was a slight sting in his legs as they moved him forward, but it was nothing he couldn't ignore.

He pulled down his cloak from a coat rack by the door and wrapped it snugly around his torso. With a deep breath, he turned the doorknob and ventured outside.

The cool winter air was refreshing… and also familiar. As he journeyed between houses, which looked eerily similar to the ones of his old neighborhood. Andrew couldn't help but imagine himself walking home from school, to the park, or the times he would wander the streets just to see where they would take him. It was like he could close his eyes, and open them to find himself human again.

He decided to do the latter, turning down streets he did not know, for no reason whatsoever. He found himself near houses he hadn't seen, passing Pokemon he had never met. The empty branches of trees loomed high in the air as the sun began its descent below the horizon.

Something changed. The houses spliced between trees ceased, giving way to a wide clearing. Dirt paths cut through lush patches of grass, slowly creeping up a dull hill with a couple of benches perched atop it. Andrew smiled.

I haven't seen this place before.

It looked to be a park, or at least some stretch of undeveloped land. The Marshtomp wasted no time, breaking into a controlled run toward the clearing. His feet soon detected the softness of the grass as opposed to the hard surface of the street.

"This is… nice."

Tap tap tap.

Hearing something, Andrew turned his head to look behind. However, upon scanning the world behind him, there appeared to be no Pokemon in sight.

Weird.

He began to ascend the short hill. His toes dug into the ground as he felt his injured body give him all of its remaining strength to complete the menial task.

Upon arriving at the top, Andrew strolled to a bench. He clutched the armrest and slowly lowered himself onto the creaky wood.

The sun was now dipping underneath the horizon, creating a beautiful collage of reds, oranges, and yellows in the sky. The clouds were stained a light pink, and a slight breeze blew through the air. Andrew hardly had much of a vantage point from the hill, only able to see past a few houses. He had seen more impressive views from the castle, but still, a sense of calm and contentment washed over him.

Tap tap tap.

Andrew craned his head back again. There was nothing there.

"Probably just the wind, or maybe Arceus screwing with me. Arceus, is that you?" Andrew called out.

A disembodied voice laughed from before him. "I never took you as being the religious type, Andrew."

Andrew practically leaped off the bench, squinting his eyes and searching. "What?! Is someone there?"

A puff of smoke manifested in front of him. It spread out across the hill before dissipating as quickly as it had emerged. Standing in the grass in front of Andrew were two Pokemon.

Jason and Ryder.

"Hiya!" the Zorua greeted with a wink.

The Espeon bore a sly grin. "Andrew… it's been a little while."

The Marshtomp's mouth fell open. He stumbled backward. "J-Jason? I thought you were—"

"Dead?"

Andrew crossed his flippers. "No! I just thought you'd fled someplace because you thought I was gonna kill you. Which I would not have, mind you! I'm a great person with great morals and only would have thrown you in prison, where you belong."

"In prison, like Leo?" Ryder sneered.

Andrew smirked. "Yep! Something like that, kid."

"Don't you call me kid, kid."

"Uh," Andrew murmured as he narrowed his eyes. "I'm older than you."

Suddenly Ryder's legs doubled in length, raising a good foot higher than Andrew. He skipped over to the Marshtomp and looked down at him. "Are you sure about that? I'm taller."

"Very funny."

"I could crush you," threatened Ryder with a spiteful glare.

Andrew stuck out his lip, feigning a frown. "Oh no! Is the mad little Zorua gonna stomp on me? Help! Help! Somebody save me!"

"I just might—"

Jason stomped with a paw. "My god, you two. Can we have one interaction that doesn't end in you two trying to kill each other?"

Ryder stuck his tongue out at the Marshtomp. "He started it."

"That's a lie and you know it! I should imprison you for slander!" Andrew screamed.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Andrew, have a seat."

"Why don't you make me, asshole?" Andrew demanded, throwing his flippers up with his fingers curled into fists.

A purple glow surrounded Andrew. An overwhelming force pushed against his entire body, forcing his legs to walk backward and lower the rest of his body onto the bench. A sharp pain overcame his already sore areas as they banged against the wood.

"Hey!" Andrew complained, scowling. "That hurt!"

Jason scoffed. "I'm very sorry to hear that."

Ryder bounced in place beside Jason, only for the Espeon to glare at him. He began to slow and chuckle before landing on his feet.

Andrew groaned. "So why are you stalking me?"

"We aren't stalking you," the Espeon muttered, looking down.

Ryder tilted his head and put on a wide smile. "Just following ya 'cause we were in the neighborhood and saw your ugly mug!"

"That's stalking," Andrew huffed.

"Enough with the semantics. We're not here to cause any trouble, Andrew. I only wanted to make it clear that we're here."

He stood up and crossed his arms. "Alright, then. You've made your point, you guys are here. Now get out of my sight."

Jason shrugged. "Cool. Ryder, let's go."

"Wait, what?!" Andrew gasped. He held out his flipper, as though ready to grasp at Jason. "You're leaving? Just like that?"

The Espeon bore a malicious, forced grin. "I've tried to help you, Andrew. I wanted to be there. Maybe in some other reality, we could've been friends in this world. You've destroyed any chance of that happening. You're fucking asshole, you know that?"

"But you're with the Resistance, I can have you arrest—"

"The Resistance is dead. At least the one I was a part of," Jason interrupted with a sigh. "Those who are not having their limbs torn off in your prison ran for the hills. Besides, I'm not giving you the gratification of a dramatic battle. Goodbye."

With the Espeon having spoken his mind, Jason and Ryder's forms suddenly evaporated into plumes of smoke. Andrew watched them with an astonished look as they drifted down the hill… disappearing as quickly as they had come.

"Wow," he said, shaking his head. "Those two really need to grow up."

AN: Chapter 41… less than ten more chapters to go, probably. I'll get back to you on that in another author's note or two. I know that I've done the whole "Wow, look how far we've come!" a million times already, but I just can't help it. It truly is astonishing that this project which was nothing more than a wacky, strange set of characters and scenes in my mind has actually been created in some tangible form. Not the last time you're going to hear that, but it's still crazy to me.

In these notes I always say thank you to DaGamestar, Zee102, DoomHuntley, and Sonic Ramon for how they've helped me in my creative journey. And this chapter is not different. Thank you.

But, I also want to thank you. Yeah, you. The person who has stuck by me all this time (however much time that may have been for you) and has just completed the 41st chapter. Thank you.

The end is in sight. Until next time, my friends.