Chapter Text
Chapter 31: The Wheels are Turin
A wave of fire arched across the grass leaving swirls of ash and smoke curling in its wake. I'd spent the last hour with Loxley testing the charcoal we'd found inside the tunnel, Levi snuggled into my ankles as a living fire extinguisher just in case. But although the grass around the tracks was decidedly crispy at the moment, and Loxley's emerging fire spin was starting to take more of a definitive form, curling in long arcs across the ground, there was no noticeable boost to the power of my fox's elemental attack. Either what I'd found wasn't the normal charcoal from the Pokémon franchise or the Game being down had taken the stat boosting effects of items with it.
The first seemed more likely than the second, as Loxley made a grabbing motion when I passed back his little crozier. The gleam in his eye as he held his focus was from more than just the flames he sent crashing over the charred scrub brush. Levi cried in excitement as he chased after rogue embers, bouncing every few steps and spitting bubbles all about. Loxley's fires hadn't improved with the charcoal, but they had with the staff. I wondered briefly if taking off my dagger would decrease my strength if I punched something. For my own mental health, it was probably better to not test that one.
"You're lucky it rained recently," Ilima chided on principle, snapping the buckles to his backpack across his chest as he walked up. "Training with fire can be quite dangerous."
There was the oddest tilt to his lips when he said that though.
"Why do I get the feeling you have some interesting stories about that?" I grinned back.
"Not about me I don't," Ilima pretended to sniff even as he patted me on the back moving past.
"So you do!"
"Nope."
Loxley and Levi both chattered in laughter as I pretended to deflate in misery.
"Sempai is so mean to meeeeee," I whined at the older teen.
Ilima only joined in the laughter, pink curls bouncing in time with quaking shoulders.
Louis and Lisette caught up as Levi put out the last of the tiny fires, the blond taking the lead again as we continued down the overgrown tracks.
And so what if I took advantage of their backs all being turned to cast my own tiny water spell at a final dying ember? Game or no Game, I still had my magic and my pokémon. If I lost everything else, at least I had that.
The block of charcoal was tucked back into my bag. My Observe ability was still working as well so while I no longer had the Game to translate what I sensing into words, I could tell the strange chunk of coal was special. I just had to figure out why…
XYXYXY
After the polished charm of Sublé and the bustle of Micle the town of Turin was … well disappointing was rather an understatement. At its base it was a walled medieval town like Cerf-à-vol and Sublé, and it had clearly been expanded on several times. An old church featured prominently in the original town walls with a few dusty shops clustered around a weedy cobblestone square. Long streets lined with houses stretched out through the crumbling inner embattlements. It was roughly the size of Sublé, but where the cozy village had been cramped (in a neighborly sort of way) Turin was the exact opposite. Only the very main roads still had buildings in various states of repair, most situated closer to the innermost part of the town. The walls in between the expanded sections of the town were definitely crumbling; it looked as if they might be being used to fortify the outer walls. Empty lots where houses had once been were now plowed up for gardens or had a ramshackle fence to keep in skiddo and mareep. A few wooloo dotted the flocks with white and a handful of miltank more black than pink had their heads stuck through a fence trying to eat the taller grass outside their enclosure. What looked like the remains of a stone fountain was now home to flock of squawking ducklett in varying shades of blue. And the whole place looked lost and out of place set between the post-industrial ruins of a rusted out railyard and an open pit mine that looked ready to collapse in on itself.
"What happened to this place?" I couldn't help but whisper as we made our way through the gates. Despite the worn appearance, there were still several clusters of people bustling through the streets. The smiles of a young couple in fashionable clothing looked foreign next the peeling paint of the (at least) century old bakery they were entering.
"The mines moved," Louis answered even as he nodded at a man in a large straw hat passing us. "Not enough profit compared to dealing with the pokémon that live here." He shot a quick question in Kalais to another man, this one sporting black pants and shirt with a high collar. "There's still a lot of farmers around though," he added before steering us towards the old church. "So it's smaller, but the town is still going strong."
That was a relief to hear, considering Turin was starting to show a very unpleasant resemblance to my Haunted Hamlet dungeon. Not in the layout, but in the general design of the architecture that remained. I almost dreaded what it would look like at night. If the Game ever came back up I'd see if the Hamlet also had the spooky old church house. The one in front of me was creepy enough. And guess where we were staying tonight?
Ilima and Louis talked to an elderly woman in an abbess' robe to get us situated for the night. Turing apparently didn't have an inn, the church's old guest house served as both hotel to the few travelers that came through and as tavern for the locals. We had the dormitory upstairs to ourselves, and we were quick to unpack the essentials. The medieval building had little in the way of modern conveniences. There was electricity to plug in our phones, so to speak. Exactly one plug. Lisette and Ilima had the lowest battery levels, so I resigned myself to setting my solar charger up in the window in the meantime.
Washing up after a week of hiking was also a priority, and the antique set up of the bathroom was … a unique experience. There wasn't any hot water, for one, and the old wooden tub was fed with a cast iron water pump that needed to be primed with more water before it would start. A bucket was tucked on a shelf, with a note reminding guests to please leave it full for the next people to come through. The water in the bucket was cold. The water that came out of the pump was colder. Thank gods for Loxley, my starter tolerated the wet just enough to stick his claws in and set it steaming. There wasn't enough room for anything more than a standing scrub down, but it was still wonderful to be clean again. And Loxley was fed a number of stray treats by everyone in exchange for the hot water.
Eventually we were decent enough to venture into public again, and were quickly tucked in a corner of the dining hall. The chatter of locals was a hectic mix of Common, Kalais, and a few other languages. All of it loud and cheerful, and more than a little curious about the four pokémon trainers that had wandered in on the tail end of a spring squall. Luckily, it seemed the people of Turin were all too polite to pester us. I was genuinely too tired to be social. Friendly greetings as they passed by our table, but nothing more.
"Un immense merci, ma Souer," (1) Louis later thanked a younger nun that had brought us our food. It was a rich chicken, or more likely ducklett I corrected myself, stew in a fragrant cream base. Trying my Observe again, I could feel something almost embedded into the meal but couldn't decipher exactly what that something was. It was rather like trying to solve a math problem in a dream; you knew there were numbers and you knew you had a pencil, but the paper was water and all the symbols kept shifting.
It smelled delicious regardless, and I could clearly feel my health restoring when I ate, but less than half a bowl in left me swirling my spoon lazily through the broth even as the others dug in with gusto. It was the first time since arriving in Kalos I hadn't been in love with the food and it absolutely sucked. I should have known from the scent but with the way the first bites had rejuvenated me I had been determined to give it a try. If only it had been a white wine sauce…
"Something wrong?" Ilima asked in between his own bites.
"I'm not particularly fond of beer," I shrugged. Hated the stuff was more like it. Wine I loved. Liquors were amazing. Beer tasted like someone had left perfectly good barley tea out to rot in the summer sun; it didn't matter what kind it was or how it was cooked I couldn't stand any of it. There was homemade bread and fruit preserves at least; I would live. I wish I'd been able to grab snacks from my inventory though. Stupid Game.
A liberal tankard of house wine later and I was pouring spoonfuls of my uneaten stew over the various bowls of generic pokéchow the church also provided. Loxley and Zen split half of it over their food, while I sprinkled bits of breadcrusts, jam, and berries I'd gathered on our walk in over the other four bowls. My team was quick to dig in, especially after being stuck in their balls for most of the trip through the tunnel.
A snort and a low grumble behind me caught my attention. Tyrunt had been surprising me in the last few days. With their health issues, she and Basil had been out at least once a day so I could give them medicine, and in the little dinosaur's case, more food. She was still desperately thin and if it hadn't been for the medical pages warning that reptiles were just as slow to show recovery as they were problems I would have been a lot more worried. I still wished I could have checked her status to see if the [Malnourished] flaw was still there, but I'd take the improved behavior for what it was. Tyrunt wasn't snapping at me, not even growling really as the rumbles she made seemed more like normal animal sounds than anything aggressive.
She still watched very, very carefully as I mixed her antibiotics into the stew and then poured it over her kibble. And I needed to back up several steps before she would move forward to eat. But she seemed comfortable enough to focus on her food once she started eating. The little 'grawrs' and 'nyoms' she made as she slurped up her dinner were beyond precious and I wanted nothing more than to smoosh her cute little dino-face. It might be worth getting snapped at.
A squabble between my regular team broke me out of the temptation to pet my not-so-grumpy little t-rex. Levi had gotten distracted from his dinner by blowing bubbles in the air. Loxley had retaliated to the impromptu water attack by swiping the bread out of Levi's bowl. Scooping up the wailing water type and his bowl, I plopped them both down at the foot of my cot.
Sleep had to wait however. Being a trainer meant a lot of little things had to get done all the time. Since the guest house had electricity, once the phones were all charged we turned to the next most important devices: our pokedexes. Ilima and I transferred out the pokémon we'd caught in the Sudmont Tunnel; I even remembered the little swinub this time, poor thing. Then we all got drafted by Lisette to help with her mareep and I got a crash course in grooming for battle pokémon. The yellow sheep needed their wool to conduct electricity, so sheering wasn't an option unless the pokémon's coats were well and truly overgrown. Instead all three of us were handed wide-tooth combs that we painstakingly ran through the thick curls as Lisette trimmed around the head and tail.
"Moumouton can just be sheered," Lisette cajoled me as I lamented the intensive upkeep of one of my favorite pokémon. "And wattouat are much easier to maintain once they evolve. I think mon Titou will be ready soon!"
How I hadn't known her mareep had a name until then was appalling, but in my defense she'd always been very quiet with her two surviving pokémon. Titou le wattouat was an adorable name though. And it was clear that he loved the attention, leaning into our hands and bah-ing sweetly without even a stray spark.
A final tug through the thick wool and Titou was practically gleaming, his creamy yellow coat perfectly coiffed as Lisette carefully checked over his little hooves with a trimming knife. Then she turned around and made Louis pull out his skiddo so she could show him how to check it too. The blond was blushing profusely as his girlfriend wrapped her arms around him from behind to guide his hands over the delicate cloven feet of the baby goat. I shamelessly snapped a picture of them, laughing at their surprised faces.
And then Ilima was sweet enough to lean over and punch in Madame Pierre's phone number into my phone. The embarassed outbursts as our friends realized that Ilima (and now I) were sending pictures to Louis' mother was nothing short of glorious.
(They were also very put out when Ilima admitted he'd also sent cute photos of me to Kahuna Nanu and I was only upset he hadn't sent them to me too.)
XYXYXY
The next morning started earlier than I liked. Rather than having to go down to the dining hall again, the elderly abbess had instead brought up a basket of fruit and croissants. She knocked gently on the door's thick wood casement before setting down the food and a canister of tea.
"I apologize if I woke you," the abbess said in thick accent. "But do one of you have une electric pokémon? 'Ze smith needs some assistance…"
And despite still not having the Game up and running (which was more worrisome than I liked to admit) we were off on a side quest.
The smithy was easy enough to find. Even if we hadn't had clear directions from the abbess, and even if it hadn't been literally just down the main street to the south of the church. The twin torkoal in metal harnesses crunching lettuce on the stone patio out front were easy to spot. The man-sized ornate hammer painted on the sign next to the door was impossible to miss.
The fancy helicopter sitting neatly in a paddock to the side just made everything blatantly obvious.
I'd barely seen regular airplanes in Lumiose, and that was with the Kalos region's primary airport within the same city limits. I hadn't seen any since leaving the capital, and certainly not any helicopters.
But there it was, shiny and dark blue sitting in a muddy barnyard in a tiny frontier town at the edge of civilization. There was a horse nibbling nonchalantly from a trough in the same enclosure. Not a care in the world.
I blinked and looked closer, the deep roan coat of the draft horse melded with a deep grey mane and tail. There was also a dark blaze down the wide nose and thick feathering on the hooves. It turned to lick its side and left a bright brown streak of spit behind. A mudsdale…
A loud crash drew my attention from the unexpected pokémon. On the far side of the paddock a dilapidated old truck was attached to a trailer just as beat up as it was. A crowd of people were gathered around the back end of the trailer, where there was an enormous mechanical…
It was too big for the smithy's paddock for sure. Two round metal …sheds, I guess, were separated by a long computer counter. A second counter, possibly the other side was tilted up against the wall of the building. What looked like it might be a metal roof and a set of windows were still stacked on the trailer, wrapped in shipping blankets and ropes.
"What is that?" Lisette voiced the question in all of our heads. We were all giving the metal monstrosity a dubious look. The grungy punk goth get up of the crowd didn't help any. Not that I didn't appreciate alternative fashion, but the sneers on their faces as were approached were downright mean.
"Scram ploucs," (2) snarled a woman with a bleached out mohawk on her shaved head. She moved to stand in front of the rest of the group, arms akimbo and clearly looking for a fight.
"Excuse you," Ilima shot back with a sneer of his own and an eyebrow raised in challenge, the words leaving his mouth almost as quickly as the woman had spoken. While I didn't know the word she'd used, it was clearly an insult. And one Ilima knew. I wondered what it was to get the normally placid trial captain-to-be riled up.
"Hey, now! Beat it kiddos!" A short pale woman with an undercut to dyed neon pink pigtails turned around to join her friend. I could see her roots clearly. A younger teen girl with an espurr in her arms stood behind here, dressed like a gothita rip off and staring dispassionately at nothing in particular. "Cassius is too busy for une bande de petite cons (3) like you!"
"I'm nineteen and a graduate student," Ilima countered the second woman with the most terrifying polite smile I'd ever seen on someone besides my father. "And we were asked to be here," he enunciated very clearly, "someone was looking for an electric pokémon."
"That would be me," A man cut in, rising from the mechanical bowels. His head was also shaved except for a bright blue forelock. He had studded leather pants and a grungy white tshirt on, sleeves cut off and smeared with engine grease that also covered his arms. "Sin, why don't you and Emma see if the black smith has any more mounting bolts."
The woman scoffed and kept glaring at my Alolan friend, whose smile was still carved into his face. I could practically feel the pulse of his temper; the punk girl gulped visibly but didn't back down and the two pink haired trainers stared each other down with a ferocious intensity. I almost wanted to see this fight, as I was pretty sure Ilima could sweep whatever pokémon she sent out with a single member of his team. Eventually the creepy little gothita girl tugged on the back of the woman's shirt. She scoffed down at the child but turned to head into the smithy. Not without a final glare at us all though.
"Putains d'étrangers," (4) was her parting shot, delivered with a curled lip and snap of her pigtails.
"Pétasse," (5) Lisette snarked back, middle finger raised in a lazy salute. She and Ilima glared at the woman until she disappeared inside.
"She seems pleasant," I clucked sideways at the blue haired man, who was watching the exchange with a lazy smirk on his face.
"She's a complete bitch," Cassius admitted outright. "But she's also the best mechanic I know. You said you got an electric pokémon?"
Ilima turned his raised eyebrow to the man, but nodded stiffly.
"Lisette here has a mareep," the older teen held out an arm to introduce our friend, "And my stoutland can produce a very effective thunder fang. Ilima Pualani."
Cassius raised his own eyebrows when Ilima introduced himself. "Pualani? Like Leilani Pualani? The actress from Alola? I heard she had a kid visiting Kalos but-"
"As I said before, I'm a graduate student." The curt interruption was very unlike the rosette teen. Ilima was usually unfailing polite. But obviously this entire interaction had rubbed him the wrong way. I filed the actress bit away for later, as now was definitely not the time to bug my Alolan friend.
Cassius picked up on his mood immediately as well, and went straight into what could only be called "business mode". Professional, polite, and precise, he waved the rest his crew away as he explained what he needed us to do.
The blacksmith had somehow, someway, managed to get his hands on an old Pokémon Center kiosk from Paldea of all things. Considering the embarrassed laughter from the thickly built man when he was pointed out I didn't want to know, but it was here nonetheless. Paldea, apparently, designed their Pokémon Centers to be more like a stand-alone petrol station and the shed and counter combo was designed for outdoor use. Which suited the tiny town of Turin just fine, as it didn't have the infrastructure to support a traditional Center. The little Paldean import was self-sufficient power wise, as the roof came with solar panels. As long as they kept it stocked with the appropriate medications it would work just fine. The League had been notified, the paperwork was waiting for approval, and the town doctor was already expecting to host the set up next to his clinic.
The trick apparently, was to get the computers integrated with the Kalos League's system. Which was why Cassius was here.
"I've maintained the Kalos Pokémon Storage System for years now," the man explained as he dove back into the wiring and mechanics of the open counter. "Trays, battle boxes, transfers, you name it I do it. Now hit that amp for me would you?"
The amp was the reason we were here. The solar panels for the Pokémon Center's roof weren't set up yet, and the kiosk took too much power for Turin's tiny electrical grid to handle. So they'd pulled out an old generator specifically designed to handle voltage from a pokémon, only it couldn't keep a charge very long and needed constant input. With stoutland and mareep both jolting it though, it lasted long enough for Cassius to finish his wiring and start up the system. The goth man was soon leaning against the counter running his fingers across a tablet plugged into the newly installed computer system.
"And we're in," Cassius grinned down at the screen. He typed a few more lines on his tablet before pointing to me. "You're Grace Gabena's kid right? Gryffin?"
"What the?" I spluttered, not expecting to be called out like that at all. "How do you-? What's that got to do with anything?"
"And how the fuck do you know who I am?" I demanded, fingers twitching as I itched to cast something at the unmitigated asshole this man clearly was. Cassius's smirk turned into a feral grin and I didn't like the way it stretched over his pale jaw. Loxley, who'd been mostly quiet all morning, let out a low growl at the man. My starter's mood was not helping my own, his snarls reverberating through my body and brain alike as he stepped forward claws out.
"Relax Gabena," Cassius drawled in a manner that wasn't reassuring at all. "The ladies like celebrity gossip. Some of it sticks, you know? Anyway, Pualani's account is clear, but you've got a notice from the GTS. Were you expecting a blitzle? I can pull the little guy up if you like."
"I think you need to back up a moment," Ilima cut in again, this time stepping in front of Loxley and me protectively, his hands on his pokeballs and stoutland on alert at the amp.
Cassius grimaced at the promised threat, and I loved Ilima to bits right then and there. Wished I'd had him with me the entire time I'd been in the pokémon world instead of just the last week. Because there was something incredibly intense about having a master level trainer utterly furious in front of you and I was so glad that look was directed at me. Louis and Lisette pressed in beside me, both frowning deeply at the blue haired man getting berated in hissed Kalais.
It made kind of a funny picture, Cassius was tall, lanky, and pale with dark blue hair while Ilima was shorter, athletic, and tanned with pale pink curls. And Ilima was clearly winning this argument, from the winces every pointed jab illicited from Cassius.
"Alright, I'm sorry, mon dieu!" the blue haired man finally grit out, arms drooping in defeat. "But do you want the trade or not?"
"Someone translate please," I asked my friends, while giving Cassius my best suspicious side-eye. The man had gone from obnoxious to creep entirely too quickly.
"He pulled up our accounts on the Pokémon League database," Ilima said shortly, but with a conciliatory nod to Cassius. "Which only League officials are supposed to do, and technically he's not one. He's a technician."
"The best damn technician in the region," Cassius griped back. "Trade. Yes or no?"
"Yes," I cut in, giving Ilima an apologetic expression. "Who knows when I'll get back to a proper Pokémon Center. Or if the other trainer will wait that long."
Ilima tossed one hand dismissively but nodded in agreement. I had to hand over an extra pokeball to Cassius, as the little up and coming Center had none, but several minutes of flickering lights and mechanical whirring and the button on the ball lit up a bright white. It shook several times before going still. Cassius unhooked it from the machine and tossed it back at me. Focusing, I could feel an almost static charge to the red and white ball. It seemed heavier.
"Here," Cassius added as he started to pack his gear away. He handed Ilima two slips of paper. "Take these. For helping me out."
"For not reporting him to the League more like it," the Alolan teen muttered as he and stoutland herded us away from the unfriendly goth gang now coming out to meet Cassius again. The slips of paper turned out to be Writs of Invitation from the Battle Chateau. A tantalizing prospect for the future, particularly when the Game came back up. (If it came back up.) Louis was certainly excited about them, so it must be fairly exclusive in this world. They were almost a good enough prize to overlook Cassius and his attitude.
Unauthorized access to the League database really was highly illegal, and the legal files I'd gone through while waiting for my license to be reinstated had been extremely strict about the issue. Anyone who managed to get through the living firewall that was the porygon line faced years in prison for the felony. Cassius could probably argue the charges down, but him accessing our accounts without permission at a yet-to-be authorized location was questionable at best.
Not that I cared about any of that as I fell face first into a prancing zebra colt.
"Oh, you are just the cutest!" I gushed, pressing my face into a velvety black muzzle as I ran scratches up and down the blitzle's wide neck. "Such a regal little prince."
Little girls never really do grow out of their horse phase after all. And the blitzle was absolutely darling and everything I hadn't known I wanted. Shinx? What shinx? No this handsome little stallion trotting around the church yard was perfect. He was taller than I expected from the anime and games, the meter or so height I remembered was apparently only in line with how horses were normally measured: up to the shoulder. Add in an elegantly long neck and the top of the young zebra's head was over my shoulder. Ebony fur even darker than Zen's gleamed in the afternoon sun, sprinkled with delicate white stripes that zigzagged down from the spine only to fade into lines of spots near the belly. Each hoof had white socks, none of them the same height but that just made him cuter, and there was a mix of stripes and spots on his legs.
A puffy little bob tail and a bristly mane sticking out in all directions from the static were also pure white. Above soft black ears, a long forelock of ivory hair twisted up in defiance of gravity. Electric blue eyes peered interestedly at everything around him as the blitzle danced around my friends and my team.
"I'm gonna have to teach you how to trim hooves too I guess," Lisette laughed as the blitzle nuzzled into her on his rounds.
He quickly bounced over to her mareep, the two pokémon trading sparks of lightning for a moment before the little zebra's attention was captured by stomps from tyrunt.
"Please and thank you," I replied, wiggling my fingers at the blitzle to try and get his attention. But to my surprise, although he happily trotted over for more pets he was quickly to go back to my grumpiest pokémon. The blitzle pranced around the little dinosaur a few times, sparking with each buoyant step, and whinnying with excitement as each arch of electricity glanced harmlessly over her rocky hide. Tyrunt tolerated the inquisitive equine with surprising grace, shoving him back with only the barest push of her snout and a tiny flash of her own thunder fang when she nipped. It certainly wasn't the crushing bites she'd inflicted when I caught her, more of a correction than anything else.
And one the blitzle heeded, unlike Levi who bounced in behind him to annoy the tyrunt instead. She'd looked at my mouse with a gleam I didn't like, and I recalled the marill as the blitzle trotted back over to Loxley. My starter was happy to raise his paws up and pet his new teammate on the nose like I had. Happy neighs echoed over the lawn, and he shoved his whole head into Loxley's chest. The braixen toppled backwards with a yip and glared up at the snickering colt.
"Oh, you're a naughty little thing," I giggled even as a press of pink energy rippled through the air in retaliation. The blitzle whinnied again, delicately cantering in another circle around the yard before nuzzling back up to me. Rubbing my hands through his mane got me zapped with a bolt of static that turned the end of my braid into a puffball.
"Definitely another troublemaker," I decided, not bothering to stop petting him. "How would like the name Zulu?"
The blitzle brayed in delight, finally sounding more like a zebra than a horse for the first time all afternoon. His left hoof pawed the ground as he nuzzled into me, and that was that.
"Want to see what he can do?" Louis offered, one pokeball raised in friendly challenge.
"Do I ever," I agreed with a wide grin. "Okay Zulu! I choose you!"
XYXYXY
Crouching as she took several deep centering breaths, Dianthe surveyed the chaos around her. Pokémon Rangers swarmed, tackling the remaining red clad criminals as they scrambled about the glen in their attempt to flee. Several members of Team Flare were already piled together, trembling and handcuffed. Various Pokémon belonging to the Rangers circled them, growling protectively.
Dianthe's own Pokémon were spread out in a wider circle to make sure no one got out.
Or in.
The regional champion narrowed her brown eyes at the dark forest around her. A blood curdling shriek echoed from the shadows and the last member of Team Flare in this group surrendered to the very cranky Ranger on his heels without any more fuss.
Dianthus sniffed derisively but could hardly argue his decision. As the Ranger led the criminal back to the group, mud covered furfrou snapping in frustration another scream ripped through the clearing.
It was clearly human. Or it least it had been before it ended in an echoing THUD and a far off gurgle.
Her gardevoir stepped in front of her, barrier shimmering into place even as her goodra spat a stream of fire into the trees. Damp wood and earth steamed in the wake of the flames. A hiss, and the shadows seemed to pull back and lighten. The forest went quiet even as her Pokémon stayed on alert. Several long minutes as their group shuddered in the clearing, but no more cries could be heard. Any survivors were here with them.
"Ça suffit," Dianthe soothed with a nod to the dragon and she turned back to the Ranger leading the mission she had joined.
"I don't believe going any further would be wise, lieutenant," she cautioned him, relieved when dark curls nodded in agreement.
"Not with that phantom on the loose," Lt. Moreau grimaced. "Personally I don't like leaving such a thing free reign, phantump or no, but better to quit while we're ahead. It's out for blood, poor thing, but not ours. And these people need medical treatment." A deep scowl was carved across his face. "Some of them more deserving than others considering what's after them."
Dianthe nodded, letting the Ranger go to collect their charges. What was left of them, anyways. The Rangers she had accompanied had tracked Team Flare very efficiently, whoever the lieutenant was in contact with had managed to leave enough information with the local Pokémon Center to put them on the right track almost immediately. They'd tailed several groups from Team Flare deep into the mountains, even catching up to one of their admin. But the presence of captives had been unexpected, the brainwashing even more so. And then the blasted phantump had appeared out of the trees like a vengeful banshee.
Dianthe very carefully stepped around a broken body slashed and studded with wooden spikes through its red suit on her way back to the main group. The tiny ghost type had been uncharacteristically vicious, feverously attacking Team Flare with little care to its own safety. The lost spirits were usually timid, frightened as they had been as children before their tragic passing and Rangers could recover them easily enough. Not this one. It had charged under several attacks from her team and the Rangers' pokémon alike in its rampage and bloodlust.
'Young. NEW,' her gardevoir had warned, 'and angry.'
The phantump had sliced down several members of Team Flare before she and the Rangers had realized what it was. Several more had escaped in the following chaos of simultaneously trying to stop the woodland spirit, rescue the mind-bent captives of Team Flare, and then protect and capture the criminal trubbish responsible for the whole mess… all while not hurting the poor phantump.
One of the scientists and an admin had escaped, a squadron of grunts in tow. But over a dozen had been left behind, either captured or dead, along with nearly twenty blank eyed catatonic civilians. From the way they had all collapsed upon the defeat of an aegislash wielded by a scientist who'd stayed behind to fight, it was clear how the poor people had been controlled. That scientist was now in handcuffs, her pokémon confiscated.
And the ghoul was still loose. Gone after Team Flare again. Dianthe almost felt sorry for them, but she'd had time to read more accurate reports of the criminal organization's misdeeds and it was more likely than not that the phantump had been one of their victims. If the League encountered it again, they'd stop it. But she wasn't about to order the Rangers after the sorry soul.
Not when the living in front of her presented a much, much bigger problem.
"Dear God," the lieutenant gasped as they both looked down at the civilians being carefully gathered for medical evacuation. One was instantly recognizable, despite the grime of the forest.
"Grace Gabena…" Dianthe scarcely dared to breathe. The press was going to have a field day when they found out…
The Ranger beside her had a rather different reaction.
"Patrick is going to flip his shit."