Chapter Text
Ever since the last stop in Gear Station, Chandalure had been on edge. It was wailing and refused to stay in its pokeball, casting mournful shadows on the subway walls as Ingo rode the final train to the station. It disheartened Ingo to see it in such a state, so he thought up a way to help. Usually the depot agents would take the last train back, but in an effort to cheer up his downtrodden pokemon, Ingo took it upon himself to direct the train to the terminus.
It was not as if riding the subway bothered Ingo, not at all. He loved it even. Going mach speeds was exciting to say the least, and he knew Chandalure loved it too, but he could not figure out what was creating its off kilter mood.
Another groan brought Ingo’s attention to the pokemon, who was hovering just above Ingo’s shoulder, and he sighed. “What has brought you to derail, my friend? Is your cab running smoothly?” It creaked out a response, slightly melancholic in nature, and Ingo read it as an uncontented state of mind. “If there is something I can do to help, please let me know.”
He ran a hand along a metallic arm and cold steel contrasted homely flames. It hummed in response; a comforting sound along with the running gears. As he turned back to the dashboard, however, Ingo immediately could tell something was wrong. Before he could identify the source of the feeling though, the train jolted in its tracks, and a flash of white and yellow blinded Ingo’s sight.
As he blinked the bleariness away and shook the ringing from his ears, Ingo grew hard of breath. The air felt dense, constricting as the musky scent of the underground was replaced by something undistinguishable. When the spots finally cleared, Ingo audibly gasped and took a reflexive step backwards.
Out the front of the Subway’s window a lavender and jet black void stared at him, red swirls of unknown substance coalescing into a spot center of the realm.
“What is this stop…?”
Ingo tried to further study his location, but found focusing on one object for too long hurt his eyes, and nothing discernible made sense. Islands with singular waterfalls were floating on their sides, the liquid flowing parallel with the sky, or even directly against the force of gravity. Was there gravity? There seemed to be none, as random objects such as dead trees collided with each other in varied directions as frequently as strangers in rush hour. Ingo lifted his hand to test its weight, and while he felt no unseen pressure shoving it back down, his feet remained grounded firmly on the train even though gravity was seemingly gone.
An island passed by, a few meters from the train, and Ingo marveled at the sight. A singular tree, growing sideways on a cliff, was surrounded by water that flowed upwards into the sky. Even more startling than the sense of dread over the place, however, was the revelation that Ingo could hear nothing but his own heart beat. From the water droplets splattering on the subway window to Chandalure’s usual hum, he listened to not a single thing.
Wait.
At breakneck pace Ingo whipped around to where Chandalure was floating not three minutes earlier yet was met with only the long hallway to the next cab, gray eyes searching desperately for his partner pokemon. His hand flew to his belt, grasping on empty air when his pokeballs were no longer there. He double checked the world around him again and wheezed when pinching his arm failed to wake him up. With his chest beginning to heave, Ingo could only hope this was a horrible prank some bored Mismagius decided to play.
Alas, as the train jolted and picked up pace towards the center of the distortion, Ingo was pulled out of his mental stupor. There wasn’t gravity in this weird realm, but motion was apparent as the train hurtled downward, it was as if someone had pulled a switch in control and changed all tracks to the earth's core. The vehicle was headed straight for a large floating island, and while Ingo frantically fiddled with the levers that changed nothing, he was forced to feel the collision first hand.
-
The popping of various capsules can be heard multiple meters away after the golden flash.
A sash meant for holding pokeballs lands, wavering slightly on the path of a desolate train track.
Many pokemon cry out in what can be understood as worry, voices rising together while the purple one flies away.
The same pokemon comes back later with a man in white.
The man stops moving for a long while, barely breathing as he stares at the scene ahead.
…
“Ingo?”