Andrew found himself in a familiar place. It was that same dark void that I appeared in every so often when sleeping: a never-ending abyss where it was impossible to tell any one place or direction from another.
Andrew saw the darkness in the void begin to crack like it had many times before. Small white lines turned into pillars of pure white. Dark pieces of the void dislodged from some invisible wall and fell, growing smaller and smaller until it was as though they were never there.
The darkness gave way to light. It was a blinding, overwhelming radiance. However, for some reason, I had no trouble looking straight at it. Floating above, below, to my left and right, was none other than the man himself. The one and only Arceus.
He smiled—though not really—but Andrew could tell the deity conveyed happiness with his warm gaze and proud posture.
"Welcome back, my child. Much has happened since our last convening."
The human, Marshtomp, human-Marshtomp, looked down at his flipper-like hands. "That's one way of putting it."
"The Flaaffy… would you like to discuss what happened with her? I believe it would do you some good, Andrew. The experience that you had with her can cause… great distress, within a mortal like you. Let me assist."
"Chloe, Chloe, Chloe!" I yelled at God. "That's all anyone wants to talk about! Y'know, she's not so special just because I pushed her out of a goddamn window. Anyone can get pushed out of a window, really."
A rumble suddenly erupted from within Arceus' being, though the void remained still and its light unwavering. His expression turned more stony. "I understand the situation quite well. Better than your mind is capable of comprehending. This world, Grandeport, this dream, the sheer fabric of this reality itself… It all serves a purpose. Nothing happens without reason."
"I didn't mean to do it! I-I wasn't me!" the Marshtomp pleaded. However, Arceus's demeanor did not shift in response.
"Chloe's death may seem to the Pokemon of Grandeport as a tragedy, but it was a necessary action. You should feel no guilt, Andrew. Feel no shame, or anger, or any sort of emotion that would deter you because of this incident. It was my hand that guided you, and I did so for a holy purpose. You should take pride in her death, for that is the only way your world can move forward."
Andrew looked up at Arceus. I felt small in comparison to him. A part of me wanted to argue, to say that I should feel bad for her death. I wouldn't say that we were friends, or even that we liked each other, but I didn't want her to die.
"What pride?" he sneered.
The god showed no anger at the remark. "You have done well, Andrew. Those around you wish to cause you pain. Do not allow them to do so. Listen to my guidance and we will succeed."
"Are you even–"
But before he could finish, Arceus was gone. There one moment, gone the next. There was a greater emptiness in the void that had not been there seconds ago.
Andrew found himself suspended for some time, though he could not tell how long. He remained trapped within the brilliant domain until something new appeared on the void's horizon.
It was a green dot. Vibrant, plant-like, alive. It was a familiar color, but one unfamiliar to the space.
It grew closer, growing larger until other features could be made out. A head with a pointed snout, a long serpentine body, and a tail with a leaf-like tip.
"Andrew," Thomas said, his voice echoing. "Wake up!"
"What?"
"Wake up!"
Andrew's eyes flew open. Thomas sat atop the Marshtomp's bed with a vine resting on his forehead. Thomas had a frown and a weary look in his eyes. His left hand fidgeted.
"You need to wake up now, Andrew."
"Whhhhyyy?" he moaned, shutting his eyes again. "I told you that they don't want me at the castle anymore. At least let me get some rest."
Thomas pulled the blanket off Andrew, exposing his body to the chilling air of his room. "I'm serious. Come with me."
With another groan, Andrew pushed himself into an upright position. He looked out the window and yawned before finally sliding out of bed and onto the floor. Thomas exited the room. The Marshtomp followed close behind, the Servine guiding him to the kitchen where two plates of berries awaited.
I'd kill for some cereal one of these days.
He sat down and grabbed a round, lime-green berry. Upon biting into it, Andrew found it very sweet, absolutely addicting to the Marshtomp's tongue. Its pleasant flavors captivated him so much that he barely even noticed Thomas leaving the room.
He seems off today. I hope he's doing alright, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to the only Pokemon in this world who seems to actually care about me.
Thomas returned a moment later with a newspaper. He placed it in the center of the table and proceeded to sit down across from Andrew. The Servine put a berry into his mouth and chewed slowly. He didn't look at Andrew. He didn't say anything else.
"Thomas?" Andrew began, concern in his voice. "Is everything okay?"
The Servine sighed. "We knew this was coming. I guess I should have been more prepared for the day when it actually happened."
"What happened?"
Thomas slid the newspaper over to the Marshtomp.
The paper was not an issue from the Grandeport Gazette as it usually was. In dark, bold, letters, on top of the paper, thick letters read: 'THE GRANDEPORT TIMES'.
Andrew gulped.
That was that stupid journalist's paper! What was his name? Bobby or something? Fucking asshole, he probably wants to kill me. I bet this newspaper is laced with anthrax. Eye anthrax—anthrax that kills you if you look at it—so I shouldn't look down. I can't see what it says. It doesn't say anything true. It's all lies. I didn't kill her.
Oh shut up, yes you did.
He finally and begrudgingly lowered his gaze to scan the headline.
'PRESIDENT MARSHTOMP STEALS MILLIONS!'
Dread welled up within his stomach. He wanted to scream, rip up the paper, and set its remains on fire. But miraculously, he maintained self-control, his eyes drifting downward as he read the article's text.
"President Andrew Marshtomp has been Grandeport's head of state for nearly a year," he muttered as he read. "In that time, we've seen countless catastrophes: the shuttering of the Grandeport Guild, violent riots, a 'Resistance' movement nearly destroying half our city, and mystery dungeons appearing in commercial and residential areas."
Andrew rolled his eyes before turning back to Thomas. "Wow, the audacity of these people! You don't think it's actually my fault that all these things happened."
Thomas smiled awkwardly. "Well… some of the things you just mentioned could, maybe, possibly, theoretically be tied back to decisions you made… but that's not why I'm worried right now."
"Nothing's really my fault. If there's actually any serious problems then it's their fault for listening to me," Andrew humphed.
The Servine scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yeah. I suppose. You should keep reading."
He obliged, looking back to the newspaper. "One must ask…" Andrew paused. "Do I have to read this?"
"This newspaper dislikes you. I'm not trying to rub the editorial aspects of it in your face, but it's important you see what it says. Trust me."
"Why don't you tell me then–"
"Just read the paper, Andrew," Thomas interrupted sternly.
"Yeesh," the Marshtomp huffed before finding his spot on the paper. "One must ask: with a ruler as ineffective as Mister Marshtomp, what motivates him to get up in the morning? Why does he put in the effort to arrive at Grandeport Castle, only to worsen the lives of the average citizen? The answer lies beneath the crisis we have seen over the past months."
"Do they have anything useful to say?" he yelled, stopping again. "Like, my god, you'd think the idiot writing this would maybe get to the damn point instead of wasting my time with all of these… words."
Thomas shot him a glare. A chill crept down Andrew's spine, coercing him to continue.
"Per an anonymous source close to the president, we believe there is an active, far-reaching money laundering scheme stretching across the Royal Government. Mister Marshtomp is at the forefront of this scheme. As you read this article, illegal payments are being sent to high-level security and dungeon-deterrent officials throughout the country."
Andrew nonchalantly shoved another berry into his mouth and slid the newspaper back to Thomas. The Servine looked down, his tail and the leaf-like protrusions on his back drooping downward.
"I didn't realize this upset you that much," said Andrew quietly.
He perked back up, forcing a smile. "It's not a big deal. We've gotten through a lot together, and we knew this was coming. We'll get through this too."
"This isn't my biggest problem at the moment."
The Servinesighed. He picked up his plate and walked over to the sink. "That's not in the times yet, but it will be tomorrow. The other Gazette writers are buzzing about it. And… I overheard some Pokemon at the market talking about her."
"I didn't mean to do it," Andrew muttered, clenching his fingers into fists. "I wasn't in control, I wasn't me. I'm not a violent Pokemon. She made me angry. She should have known what she was doing."
Thomas scrubbed the plate lethargically, lacking any of his usual vigor or efficiency. "Andrew… do you want me to be honest?"
"Yeah, of course," he said, putting his smile back on.
Oh my Arceus Thomas better not be about to break up with me or I swear to god I'll…
"What you did to Chloe… it scared me. I never liked her all that much, but it was you who should have known better. I've been covering for you at the Gazette since we met. I've never written skeptically of a single thing you've done, and I've convinced other journalists to see it the same way. But now, it's different. You killed her. Accident or not, I can't defend that. To think you're capable of such a thing—it's horrifying."
"I WASN'T ME!" Andrew shouted, his chest beginning to heave. His heart slammed against his ribcage, pain surging through his upper body.
The sudden noise shocked Thomas. His vine recoiled and released the plate, causing it to fall onto the counter. It bounced off the ceramic and smashed on the floor, bits of porcelain scattering everywhere with a loud cracking noise.
Thomas faced Andrew, eyes wide and a scowl on his face.
"Andrew."
"Uh, y-yeah?" the Marshtomp asked nervously, tugging at his bowtie.
"I love you, and I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that. For the love of Arceus, you could push a million Chloes out of windows and I'd still love you. But most Pokemon aren't like that. They don't need even one mistake like that to hate you. What you did was wrong and reckless. You. Know. Better," Thomas spat harshly. The final word dripped with disappointment and judgment, a scathing reproach summarized in one damning remark.
Andrew bit his lip.
Great, you've really done it this time. Now Thomas is mad!
"I-I'm sorry?" the Marshtomp uttered, both asking and stating.
Thomas sighed, the anger melting off his face. "It's alright. We'll figure this out… but I've been thinking. Maybe it's time to stop with this whole president thing."
"Huh?" Andrew murmured. He shuddered, the idea unnerving his very soul. "What do you mean? I'm president! The people elected me, and I have to be president."
"Elected?" Thomas laughed.
Andrew scowled. "Yeah! Elected!"
"You were elected because you were the only candidate allowed to run."
He crossed his flippers. "That still counts."
"Perhaps once this all blows over we can move out of the city. We could go somewhere more peaceful, where nobody would bother us… Wouldn't that be lovely?" asked Thomas with sincerity and tenderness in his voice.
Andrew nodded. "That would be nice… But I have a job to do, and I like it."
The Servine frowned. His vines reached down and began to sweep the bits of porcelain into a small pile. "Consider it, alright? I want us to be safe, and with all this publicity you've gotten… It puts you in danger."
Andrew had returned to the castle, but was not within its wall. Instead, he stood on a makeshift stage, erected in the fields which surrounded it.
The camp created by the Pokemon left homeless by the mystery dungeons was still prominent, though it had shrunken since Andrew's last visit. There were numerous patches of trampled grass, and traces of tents packed up and taken back home.
There was a fog of melancholy as the remaining Pokemon A Typhlosion lumbered by with deep bags under their eyes. Young Pokemon sat on the grass and stared at the sky instead of running and playing.
A small crowd had begun to gather around the stage, though few of them seemed to show any interest in being there. Something caught Andrew's eye between the disheveled masses—in the back of the crowd lurked a Meowstic. A notebook and pencil levitated beside her, surrounded by a familiar purple glow. Beside her was a Dragonair, who held a notebook in their mouth and a pencil with their tail.
Goddamnit, mused Andrew. I can't even get kicked out of my damn office without the press showing up to humiliate me. They're probably here to kill me.
Andrew cleared his throat and brushed himself off.
"Welcome, everyone!" he announced cheerily, a wide grin on his face.
The crowd greeted him with a cold silence. It was as frigid as the winter air, which had still not let up. It was a chill Andrew had known for as far back as he could remember.
Arceus, this is what I've been diminished to?
"I know that these times are rough. Luckily, I can say with confidence that things are moving in the right direction. The amount of mystery dungeons in the city is declining, I think, at least judging by how many Pokemon are here. Or maybe they moved somewhere else. Or died. Who knows!"
There was a psychotic twinge to those last words, like a mask of sincerity and sensibility was slipping off. His eyes were wide and unblinking. He stared intensely at the bright blue sky, watching a lone cloud pass overhead. His smile remained. Nobody else was smiling, but it did not seem to affect him in any way. He just stared, smiling at the sky, and refused to look at any of the sad Pokemon below.
"Just another one of those days, isn't it?!" he asked angrily, his smile somehow persisting. "Every day you wake up and try to make the right choices, but you can't. Because it's not your goddamn fault that the universe hates you. That some unknowable, mythical, godly force drives you against your will. You want to have autonomy and to be your own person. You can't! You can't! You're a tool."
Andrew breathed in, retaining an odd air of composure. The Marshtomp's face remained its usual sea-blue, his bowtie was straight, and his chest rose and fell at a normal pace.
The crowd barely reacted to this outburst, a few Pokemon whispering but their discussion quickly dying down.
"Soon enough you'll be able to return to your homes. The other did, I think, probably. You'd think they'd give me more briefings on these things but I'm just a tool–!"
"Mister Marshtomp," said a feminine voice from the back of the crowd. Andrew's eyes drifted to it. They landed on the Meowstic he had identified earlier. "I apologize for intruding on your… speech, but I'm from the Gazette and have some questions for you."
The Gazette? Those are Thomas' guys. The questions they ask can't be THAT hard.
Andrew straightened his bowtie. "Sure! I'm always happy to clarify anything regarding the affairs of this nation. We are a democracy after all!"
"Yes, sure," the journalist remarked flatly. "Do you know who was responsible for the murder of Chloe Flaaffy?"
Andrew's smile faded.
Oh. Oh no… What even happened to her? How could I ever know? I don't know what happened, that day simply never happened. I had no window. You had no window.
His flipper trembled. "L-Look, we're all very shaken around the death of the Minister of Education's–"
"Minister of Transportation," the Meowstic corrected.
"Yes, transportation. We're all very shaken up about her death. However, to say it was a murder is simply false. We have no evidence to suggest that was the case whatsoever," said Andrew.
The Meowstic narrowed her eyes. "Miss Flaaffy fell out of a three-story window. That doesn't exactly scream 'not a murder' to me."
"Can I be frank with you?" Andrew asked with a sigh. "Chloe was going through some things over the past few months. We still don't know the exact reason for her gently tripping out of the window, but we suspect it may be a suicide. The investigation is still probably ongoing. However, until we levy charges against someone—which isn't going to happen—I ask that you please refrain from referring to Chloe's tragic demise as a murder."
She furrowed her bro. She leaned over and exchanged some words with the Dragonair, the crowd slowly turning their heads trying to pick up on what was being said. Andrew's smile had returned.
Yes! I beat her! I won! Chloe isn't dead, they're stupid, they should realize it. Chloe needs to be brought over here, prove 'em all wrong. I'll prove them wrong! I'm not a tool, I'm well. My thoughts are well. All is well.
The Dragonair raised their tail into the air, beckoning for his attention. "Mister Marshtomp, may I please ask a question as well? I promise it'll be quick."
Andrew grumbled. "Fine."
"You're making the claim that Miss Flaaffy committed suicide, is that correct?"
The Marshtomp raised his flippers. "Look, I'm not claiming anything. But Chloe seemed off the past few weeks, and you never know what some Pokemon are struggling with. Maybe she was under a lot of pressure. Some Pokemon aren't strong enough to handle that pressure, and well… they snap!"
"If that's your position," the Dragonair continued, "Then I'll ask my question–"
"You already got your question!"
The dragon Pokemon's head reeled back. "Excuse me?!"
"You wanted to ask a question, I let you ask a question. Does anyone else have questions?"
The Dragonair, unphased by Andrew's remark, raised her tail to ask another question. However, Andrew ignored her. He did a quick scan across the crowd to see if any other Pokemon dared to raise a tail or paw. There were none.
The Dragonair opened her mouth to speak again, though the Marsthomp cleared his throat to intercept her words.
"Ahem. Anyway, I got to where I am today because of one thing: hard work. That's it. Sure, sometimes opportunities find Pokemon that don't find others, but ultimately I'm not here because I was just in the right place at the right time. Or anything like that," Andrew continued.
The two journalists exchanged angry glances. The Meowstic stomped, and the Dragonair slithered away.
"I did this through hard work!" the Marshtomp proclaimed. "Who would believe that just a year ago, I didn't even have a house? Times might seem tough right now. But don't give up hope. All of the chaos will pass soon, and when it does, we're going to enter an era of prosperity in Grandeport bigger and better than this country has ever seen."
Andrew held up his flippers triumphantly, expecting applause.
However, no such cheers or praise erupted from the audience. They continued to stare at him with dead, tired eyes as if he weren't even there at all.
Andrew grumbled. He shot the crowd one last glare, but they didn't seem to notice or care. He stomped off the stage, a childish scowl on his face.
"No Charlie to get ice cream with, not anymore," Andrew muttered to himself.
Grandeport Square had been cleared of its mystery dungeon. The area was left oddly unscathed, with very little damage and not much out of place.
Was there even a mystery dungeon here? Or was it all in my head? Maybe it was Larry in my head, forcing me to believe there was a mystery dungeon here so I'd kill Chloe—I DIDN'T KILL HER—it'd make sense. It was his fault that she died. Why can't I stop thinking about her?
Business continued as normal in the square. Pokemon went from shop to shop, chatted along the edges of the street, and relaxed on benches. It was strangely normal.
Andrew navigated his way to the ice cream stand. It too looked exactly as it had before, eerily so. He strolled past the bench where he'd usually sit waiting for Charlie to bring back ice cream. Any impulse to do the same again was quickly deterred, as the bench was occupied by a Goodra who had coated it half in slime.
The line for ice cream was short, with only five Pokemon waiting. Andrew got in line and waited as patiently as he could—tapping his foot against the ground—until it was his turn to purchase. The Marshtomp held cool, yellow coins in his hands. He could already taste the creamy goodness of the ice cream in his mouth, his mouth watering.
And then he saw her.
His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach.
Working at the ice cream stand was a Meowstic. She looked similar to the journalist from earlier, with the same patterns of blue fur on her head and neck, overlaid on a coat of white.
"What can I get you?" she asked with a smile and a higher voice than that of the journalist.
OH MY ARCEUS I AM BEING STALKED BY THE MEDIA!
Andrew forced a grin. "I'll take one medium-sized vanilla cone."
Am I crazy? I'm not crazy, she's crazy! She's one of them… the Resistance. Yes! She's a journalist working for the Resistance and she's going to KILL ME. I am going to DIE. Arceus, Arceus, Pokegod, Zeus, please!
"Can do!" replied the Meowstic. She grabbed a cone before a metal ice cream scooper surrounded by purple psychic energy levitated beneath Andrew's view. It quickly floated back up with a generous scoop of ice cream. She plopped the treat down on the cone and repeated the process.
Thomas, I love you. I'm sorry that it ends this way.
"Do you want any sprinkles with that?"
"Sure!" said Andrew cheerfully.
Jason, if you're reading my mind right now, I'm sorry for everything. I wish I was a better friend. I might even want to get to know you, again, if I weren't about to be brutally murdered.
Dozens of multicolored sprinkles levitated, then dropped onto the cone. The Meowstic reached out and handed him the cone.
"That'll be three–"
Andrew slapped the coins on the wooden table and snatched the cone. He ran off, screaming. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!"
He ran fifty feet before his legs ached, begging for him to slow. He slid to an abrupt stop, looking back at the ice cream stand. The Meowstic and the other Pokemon in line were all staring at him. The cat scratched the back of her head, shrugged, and proceeded to serve the next customer.
Andrew strolled over to a less populated part of the square, noticing a narrow opening between two buildings. It was a dark, cozy alley. It looked clean, and the cold, damp, cobblestones seemed inviting to his exhausted legs. Without a second thought, he wandered into the alley and plopped himself down against one of the buildings.
He looked at his ice cream. My attempted murderer gave this to me… but that doesn't necessarily mean it was poisoned. I am hungry. Not that ice cream is too filling—oh well—can't win them all.
Andrew took a bite, the sweet substance melting in his mouth and gracefully sliding down his throat. However, as he leaned back in for another bite, a voice called for him.
"Andrew Marshtomp!"
He turned his head. A tall, yellow figure with a round white belly loomed at the alley's entrance.
"I'll admit, I didn't expect you to evade me at the ice cream stand like that," said Ariana Ampharos. "It was a ballsy move, I'll give you that."
She crept closer… and Andrew took a lick of his ice cream as she approached.
"My daughter is—was—tough. I think she gets it from me. So, that'd make you think that if someone were to take her life, they'd at least have to be smart to pull it off, right Andrew?"
Andrew's face twisted into a look of pure horror and froze. His eyes were wide, his mouth frowning and agape. The Ampahros let out a sigh.
"But while evading me, the genius who murdered her decided to corner himself. Don't get me wrong, I like a good Pokemon hunt every now and then, but I'm not in the mood today. I suppose I should thank you for making my job easier."
Before Andrew could truly process the weight of the situation, Ariana reached down and grabbed his bowtie. She curled her paw around it and lifted Andrew until they met at eye level.
"I've lost a husband, now I've lost a daughter," she hissed. A psychotic smile came over her face. "What else do I have left to lose? Who would even miss you? A Girlfriend? A Boyfriend? Parents? Siblings? Tell me, Andrew. Do you think they'll feel the same pain that I do?"
Andrew kicked his legs in the air and threw his flippers up. "H-Hold on! I've already gotten beaten up enough these past few months. I'd be happy to, y'know, talk this out. I'm sure this whole situation is just a massive misunderstanding."
"Beat you up?" Ariana repeated before laughing maniacally. "I'm not going to beat you up. I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU!"
The Ampharos jolted forward, moving toward the wooden wall behind Andrew. The back of the Marshtomp's head collided with the structure, sending a sharp pain throughout the entire upper half of his body. He let out a pained yowl.
"Help! Someone's trying to kill me! The president! Like I knew they always would!" he shrieked.
Ariana put her paw up against Andrew's mouth. "Shhh! I don't want any attention! C'mon, let's make this quick. Trust me, Andrew. I don't want to cause you too much pain…"
Andrew was trembling. His head was on fire. A shrill ringing seemed to be coming from every direction.
"Trust me, if I really wanted to kill a Pokemon quickly, I'd just electrocute them to death. Here, let me demonstrate."
Ariana moved a paw off him, using the other to push him higher up against the wall. Her spare paw maneuvered down to his stomach. Electricity danced and crackled, similar to Charlie's, with sparks of electricity traveling down her arm until reaching Andrew's stomach. The Ampharos stared him in the eye.
The Marshtomp closed his eyes, awaiting his inevitable Demise. After a couple of seconds—he felt the full force of the attack—creating a vague, slight pain in his abdomen. It hurt, but not enough to elicit any particular reaction from him.
Is she killing me? This is an underwhelming way to die.
She stopped after ten seconds, the electricity subsiding.
"Ya see, usually that's enough to knock a Pokemon out cold. Another few minutes of that and most Pokemon's hearts would stop beating, even sooner for a water type. It took a lot of concentration to generate enough power to pull that off."
Andrew grumbled. "You wanna see Chloe again? I could send you to her right now if you let me go."
"Yeah, right," she chuckled. "When I left the house this morning, I actually planned to kill you with electrocution. It's easy, mostly painless, and generally quiet. Nobody would know what happened! But then I see you ordering ice cream like a dumbass, and I remember: he's a ground type also, isn't he? He won't feel a thing!"
"Lucky me."
Ariana groaned. "You would've been if you hatched as something else. I don't enjoy inflicting pain onto others… unless they kill my child."
The Ampharos placed her spare paw back onto Andrew's body. She took the one that had been holding him up against the wall and pushed it forcefully against his neck.
There wasn't pain in Andrew's throat. The sensation was more uncomfortable than anything, though far from pleasant. However, after a moment, he felt the air fail to reach his lungs. The Marshtomp began to wheeze, breathing harder and harder to grasp the diminishing oxygen.
"P-Please… don't," Andrew choked out, tears forming in his eyes.
"I will enjoy this, seeing my daughter's murderer slowly die by my paws. Nobody's coming to save you."
Nobody is coming to save you this time.
However, as Andrew's eyes began to close and his vision began to blur, a weary look came over Ariana's face. She glanced over her shoulder.
Does… does someone see us?
She stomped the ground, letting out a low, primal growl. She released Andrew from her grip entirely.
The air rush back into Andrew felt amazing. The world grew brighter, his mind clearer. But that was only for a moment as gravity took hold of the Marshtomp. He was yanked down onto the cobblestones, his sensitive tail fins taking the full brunt of the impact.
"Goddamnit!" he yelled instinctually as a sharp ache enveloped his rear.
Andrew's heart was racing. Get the hell out of here, you idiot! his mind screamed. But as he began to push himself up, a pressure weighed down on him. Ariana pressed her leg down on Andrew's back, eliciting a yelp from him.
"I can't kill you! I can't… kill you!" she wailed.
Ariana's wails turned into sobs as the Ampharos began to break down. She clawed at her face, pushing upward as though trying to shove the tears back in. Her on Andrew's back weakened. He slowly and carefully slid out from underneath her foot, and to his fortune, Ariana didn't even seem to notice in her grief.
Andrew stood up. Between being slammed against the wall and being dropped from the air, a familiar pain coursed through his entire body. Ariana was still a tall, menacing figure, though his primal fight-or-flight instinct quieted down as the Marshtompwatched her cry.
I have a feeling that she's in no state to kill me. For once, I'm not going to die.
However, Andrew was in no mood to stick around. He began to creep away as fast as he could, doing his best to evade detection. But as he was about to exit the alley, he froze up.
"Wait!" Ariana called out.
He obliged against his instincts, slowly turning back around. "...What is it?"
"I'm not like you," she said between sniffles. "I'm not a killer. I've never sent a Pokemon to their death."
Andrew rolled his eyes. "Join the club."
"J-Join the club? You fucking murdered Chloe in cold blood," screamed Ariana, staring him down with bloodshot eyes.
Andrew let out a sigh, his heart beating in his head. "I didn't kill Chloe. At least… I didn't mean to. I didn't prevent her death. I should've been better."
"LIAR!" she screamed.
Andrew put a flipper to his forehead. "I'm not going to spend the time–"
"I don't understand," the Ampharos interrupted, shrinking in her misery. "I've done some pretty shitty things over the years, but even I didn't have the strength to kill you. And one day Chloe shows up and you just murder her? Just like that? Did you even put any thought into it?"
"I lost control–"
"YOU'RE A MONSTER!" the Ampharos screeched, her chest heaving.
The two of them stood in silence. Ariana displayed a look of pure anger and vitriol, sending another warning pulsing through Andrew's head fin. Yet he could not find the strength to leave her in the alley.
Finally, she broke the silence with a sob. She took her scarf and wiped her tears. "I think I… realize something."
"W-What's that?" Andrew muttered, a quiver in his voice.
"You didn't kill Chloe because you were strong enough to bear the blood on your flippers. You're just weak. She knew the bullshit you'd been pulling and you were too weak to face the consequences."
His brow narrowed. "Maybe I was."
"Well, guess what?" she asked, throwing her arms out "I didn't survive forty-four years by being weak."
"I can see that," said Andrew, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Ariana shook her head, her mouth twisting into a pained smile. She lumbered forward, her tail dragging against the ground. The Ampharosositioned herself over Andrew. He was forced to crane his head all the way up to make eye contact with her.
The Ampharos's eyes went large and she tilted her head at an unnatural, painful-looking angle. She bore an ear-to-ear grin, her teeth tightly clenched. "I might not be weak and desolate enough to kill you, Marshtomp. But I swear on Arceus' name that I will use my strength to destroy you. I will ruin you, along with everything and everyone. You. Love."
AN: Tensions are brewing… I sure do hope nothing terrible happens to our fishy friend. Not much from me this time around. Huge thanks to everyone for reading, as always.
Big shoutouts to DaGamestar, DoomHuntley, Sonic Ramon, and Zee102!
Feedback is always welcome (though I'm not sure how relevant it is at this point considering how close we are to being done) but it doesn't hurt, at least.
See you next time!