Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Mercury? Honey, are you hungry? Dinner is almost ready."

You blink, taking a moment to remember that that's your name. Mercury. Mercury, Mercury, Mercury. That's what you were called before all this. You peel your eyes away from the computer screen, away from the remedial math course you can barely read the words of and don't understand. It's been almost three months since you were rescued from that place, and you're still not used to it. "Mercury." Not "subject," not "eighty-one," just… Mercury. A fuzzy name, from before.

Standing on the stairs up to your room is your Aunt Tess. She stares at you, concern radiating off of her… along with stress, despair, and an underpinning of resentment that she hates herself for having. Your aunt Tess cares about you. Your aunt Tess has done everything in her power to help you adjust, help you be a person again, something you still don't really feel. Part of that, you think, is because aunt Tess also doesn't want the burden of your presence. She feels responsible for you, because you don't have any other relatives after your parents were killed by that place. But she never married for a reason. She never had kids for a reason. And as much as she tries her best, she wishes she didn't have to have one now.

But that's not really important. She asked you a question, and you need to answer.

"I am hungry," you confirm succinctly.

"Come on down, then," she says, a smile on her face that's still genuine despite how much of a burden you are on her.

You stand, happy to have something new to do. You've been working on remedial math since your aunt suggested it, and it's… difficult. But you're working on it. You remember what it was like before, and you can still memorize things, like times tables and noteworthy equations and the most common addition and subtraction operations, but the why keeps escaping you in ways you're pretty sure it didn't before. It feels like you have brain damage. …Which would make sense, because everyone certainly treats you like you do.

Your billowy white hair, tipped with red on the ends, floats and twists around you as you walk like you're moving underwater. It's not really hair, the scientists said, not like the thin white coat of fur that covers most of the rest of your body. You're fuzzy, soft in ways reserved for non-humans, and it makes bathing a pain. At least back at that place you didn't have to worry about bathing yourself, it was rarely done and they had a machine that did everything without your input. None of this shampoo or conditioner stuff that smells horrid and overwhelms your nose with fake scents of things masquerading as flowers or fruits but you know are poison. You don't want it on your body.

…Though it does help make you less itchy. And it keeps your tail untangled, which is a problem because unlike the rest of your body your tail has very long hair, it's almost entirely floof. Fox-like and bulbous, it's tipped with a bit of the same wispy substance as the top of your head, but most of it is just fuzz. It's probably from your Eevee DNA, but it's hard to tell.

There's sort of a lot going on with your DNA. The scientists always said it was remarkable you were alive. You weren't really supposed to be. And, well, you're actually part ghost, so maybe you aren't.

"So, ah, I tried cooking something out of mostly berries today," your aunt babbles. "Professor Elm said we should try poffins, but I think I messed up the poffin recipe a little so it's just sort of a little… um. Runny. I'm sorry."

The food actually smells quite good. Much better than usual. You want to tell her it's okay and that she doesn't have to apologize. Instead, you just nod.

A knocking sound drums behind you and your ears go up, alert and fearful. Sudden sounds, in your experience, are rarely good. Someone snuck up on you because of the poffin smell! Except… well. You don't feel any danger. Which is weird. You used to always feel danger, so you're still kind of… expecting it.

"Mercury? Sorry, honey, could you get that?"

Get… oh. The door. Of course. You… hesitate, not really sure what to say. You don't want to get the door. You haven't gone outside in weeks and you like it that way. There's way too much going on out there, it's sort of overwhelming. Plus you have to put an illusion up if you don't want everyone to look at you funny or throw a Pokéball at you, and illusions are stuffy. And you're kinda supposed to tell Aunt Tess when she tells you to do something that you don't want to do, but you're still not very good at it and she seems very busy with the food right now.

You sigh, your hair writhing in response to your anxiety.

"Yes, Aunt Tess," you confirm respectfully, and head for the door with an illusion twisting in your mind.

When you were first brought here, Aunt Tess showed you pictures of what you used to look like, years ago. You don't look very much like that anymore, but it's a simple enough face to remember, if changed a little to better match your age. You are, apparently, fifteen years old, not that the number feels like anything of significance to you. Time was just another torture in that place, one you prefer not to think about.

You take a deep breath, gathering your fear and regret, the feeling of looking at that photo and not knowing who it was until Aunt Tess told you. It forms itself around you as the facade of a freckled, round-faced girl with green eyes and a small, almost pouty mouth. Nothing like the sharp face you have now, with blade-like teeth and angular eyes. The girl in the picture also had short black hair, but you form your illusion's hair as long, frizzy, and white, just to feel a little bit more like yourself.

Away, your fur and claws hide. Away, your tail vanishes to invisibility. It's all still there, of course, hidden behind the mask of manifested emotion, and bumping into anything too hard will shatter the trick instantly. But it's not like you'd let a human you don't know touch you anyway. You would dodge if they try.

…Or bite. Though that instinct has mostly been trained out of you.

You reach the door and grab the knob, turning it to pull it open. Doors, too, feel strangely confusing to you. You understand that the door can be opened only if the knob is turned. That's easy, that's obvious. But why is that the case? The more you think about it the more frustrated you become, because you know there's a mechanism, a… a something that lets the turning knob move a latch, but it doesn't make any sense to you until you're looking at a video of a cross-section of it moving online. Then you can see it, then it makes perfect sense, but unless you look at it over and over, unless you memorize it in full, it slips out of your head. It's just not intuitive. Not like it used to be.

You open the door, a familiar scent both calming you and putting you on edge. You look up at the man in front of you, seeing the stress and impatience in the shoe he taps on the ground, the taut muscle of his skill (he's worthy) and wariness, the affected relaxation in his posture because he doesn't want to worry you, the arrogant grin of a proud man coming to deliver good news that paints him in a good light.

It's him. Your savior.

"Hello," you greet him, the memory of your meeting pulsing in your mind. The crashing, the screaming, the roars of righteous indignation. The day you knew you would die, where someone found you and gave you life.

Hello doesn't feel like enough, so you add:

"It's good to see you, Blue."

Your Aunt Tess jumps at your words (surprise, embarrassment, arousal?) and looks up from her cooking experiment with a panicked face. Suddenly, you're on edge again. Why is she afraid?

"L-leader Blue!" she greets him. "I wasn't expecting you! Welcome!"

"Hah! Well, sorry to pop in unannounced, I just finally got ahold of a little trinket and wanted to give it to Mercury as soon as possible," he grins, unrepentant (amused?) of any distress caused. "No need to interrupt your dinner for me, I'll just be in and out."

"O-of course yes!" Aunt Tess confirms. "Come in, come in."

He does so, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. You drop your illusion like a held breath, since he knows about you anyway. Blue reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small necklace, with what looks like a military dog tag on the end.

"This," he explains, "should be a good temporary solution to your current worries. The chip in here has an exception code to the League system that will automatically cause any legal Pokéball to reject you as a non-target. Don't lose it, this thing is proprietary as all hell."

He slips it around your neck directly, rather than handing it to you. He smells so strong. Many defeated foes have marked him as such.

"I will not lose it," you promise.

"Good," he says. "It'll make it a lot safer for you to be around Pokéballs and, consequently, Pokémon themselves. It won't, unfortunately, help you with every problem. Someone could still catch you in a jailbroken ball and potentially even digitize you, and that motherfucker Bill insists he can't add you as an exception unless you visit him personally. But still. For most major issues? That'll cover you. No more accidentally trapping yourself if you grab a ball wrong."

"That is helpful," you agree.

"Good," he nods. "Great."

There's a pause, one he seems to find awkward, though you find it rather pleasant.

"So, uh… you doing okay, kid?" he asks.

You're not really sure how to answer that. Your first instinct is to rub your face on his hand, but Aunt Tess says that isn't appropriate. So you say nothing.

"...Right," Blue says, his smile fading a bit. "So. Here's the deal. I wanna pull more strings for you, and ideally fly you out to meet Bill myself, but… I can't. More Team Rocket cells keep cropping up all over the damn place, in Johto and Kanto, and I can't really not deal with that. But I highly, highly recommend you go meet the guy as soon as possible. Bill's currently visiting his family in Goldenrod, and… I mean, if you wanna stay here that's fine. But Bill is the guy you need for the next step to get your life back on track. He can get into all the right systems, and… y'know. Make sure you aren't flagged as something you aren't."

That was a lot of words. As far as you're concerned, though, Blue says you should go meet someone named 'Bill,' and therefore you should do that. So you take a deep breath, your hair swirling as you weave your usual illusion back around yourself. A task. Go to a place. Talk to a man. You can do that. It's certainly better than math. You start to walk out of the door… but then your aunt speaks up.

"Mercury!" she yelps. "Are you just wandering off? Honey, you can barely go outside by yourself. Do you even know where Goldenrod is?"

You hesitate. You're supposed to go, so you'll go. But. You're also supposed to listen to Aunt Tess. That is what you've been doing for the past three months, and it's been… not terrible? A much kinder cage, you suppose. But still a cage, still a stifling confinement, full of baffling tests and confusing orders and humans that care too much about too many things. You're supposed to listen to Aunt Tess, so you have been.

…But new tasks generally supersede old tasks, so it's probably okay to just go to Goldenrod.

"I will figure it out," you tell her. "Goodbye."

She blinks in surprise as you leave, Blue also saying goodbye as he follows you out of the house.

"In that much of a hurry to leave, huh?" he says sympathetically. You're not really sure what he means, though.

"Which way is Goldenrod?" you ask.

He chuckles, shaking his head.

"How about you go to Professor Elm's place, just to start things off," Blue tells you, changing your destination location to Professor Elm's Laboratory. "I realize that you can… probably handle yourself just fine, but if you want to travel around legally you need a trainer license and registered partner. Nobody will actually arrest you or whatever for traveling routes without a Pokémon to protect you, but it's still the law and it's best if you don't raise eyebrows."

Raise… eyebrows? You glance at him, taking in his expression (smirk, humor) and demeanor (hesitance, worry). A colloquial statement, then. When a human raises both eyebrows it is surprise. When they raise one eyebrow, it is questioning. Raising eyebrows most likely means 'gathering attention,' which fits with the context of the sentence. He doesn't want you to gather attention. Which makes sense.

A scowl forms on your face anyway, although your illusion's expression remains blank. He wants you to get a partner Pokémon. Again. Pokémon… bother you.

But he's not really suggesting, this time. This time, it is a task.

"Okay," you say.

He nods slowly.

"You sure?"

You hesitate. That's… not an easy question to answer.

"I know that you… react poorly around Pokémon, Mercury," Blue says. "But the whole world is Pokémon. Even if you don't collect yourself a partner, you'll run into them constantly along your journey. If you stop looking at your own feet you can probably spot twenty of them right now."

You glance up, and sure enough a Pidgey flies by about thirty meters away. (Not looking at you. Unaggressive posture. Feint? No. WEAK.) You swallow, and return your view to your own feet.

"I… I know you're a person," Blue says quietly. "Not a Pokémon, not really. But the way you look at them reminds me of a lot of Pokémon that I've rescued, Pokémon that were beaten and broken until they didn't know anything but battle. And I don't… I just find, in my experience, that a lot of people and a lot of Pokémon find themselves getting better more easily with a friendly Pokémon beside them. To remind them that… it's not all pain. It's not all about strength."

Such a mystifying thing for the strongest to say.

You hesitate, not sure how to answer. You want to say no, to reject the idea of having a partner, but it's beyond you. You need to see Bill. You need to have a partner Pokémon to travel legally. That is the situation, and as much as it makes your claws twitch and your hair writhe that's just how things are. You swish your tail back and forth for a moment before catching yourself. Stupid of you to do that with your illusion up. Back at that place, they didn't care very much about your illusions after determining how they work. You don't have much practice using them to pretend to be human. Only using them to fight.

Still. The idea of taking one of Professor Elm's Pokémon is revolting to you. He's… you don't like him. You don't like his white coat or his aggressive curiosity or how happy he always is to see you. The ones that were happy to see you were always the worst.

The good ones were only ever sad.

"I…" you start, still instinctively scared of questioning anyone, of disagreeing, but emboldened by a prior standing task to do so, "I would be more comfortable with one of your Pokémon."

Blue is surprised at first, but a big grin splits his face soon after.

"Would you, now?" he laughs. "Well! I suppose the same could be said about most people. I am the best there is at raising healthy, combat-ready 'mons. But, ah, hmm. Most of my team isn't exactly something I'm comfortable leaving in the hands of an amateur, no offense. It's important to have a Pokémon that respects you."

You nod in agreement.

"That is why I want one of yours," you explain. "They will respect you. You will tell them to listen to me. They will obey."

"That's… not really how it works, kid," Blue hedges. "They'll only obey until I walk away. My orders don't mean much when I'm not looking."

You frown, not understanding that at all. But, well. Blue said it, so it must be true.

"I am confident I can force a state of obedience in most Pokémon," you answer instead.

Blue winces, sending terror through you. That… wasn't a good thing to say! Why not? No, no, no, no…

"Mercury, there should be no need to 'force' obedience. You don't have to fight your own partner. The whole point of having a partner Pokémon is so that you don't have to fight personally. You can let them handle it. Okay? I don't want you blasting your way to Goldenrod like your life depends on it. I want you to go out, have a journey, learn about yourself and actually relax a little. You're… fuck, Mercury. You deserve it. We should have found you sooner."

You stare at him, not sure what to say to that. You suppose it would have been nice to have been found sooner, but you're still reeling from having been found at all so it seems rude to complain.

And it's never okay to be rude.

Blue sighs, seeming to pick up on the fact that your owl-eyed stare is the only answer he's getting.

"...Look, I have a few young 'mons that you can pick from," he says. "We're still going to Professor Elm's lab, though, because he's the guy that has to authorize your trainer card and get you equipped and what-have-you. But… yeah. You can have one of my young ones. There are a few that I think would, uh, match your disposition."

You nod, relief flooding you. You asked for something, and you're going to get it. It still surprises you when that happens now.

You approach Professor Elm's lab alongside Blue, doing your best to avoid eye contact with… pretty much everything. The smells of Pokémon all over the place are already enough to be nearly overwhelming, but at least they aren't nearby. That place always smelled like Pokémon, but you never had to fight them until they were in the same room with you, so it's not too bad.

"Hey, kid!" Blue suddenly yells, causing you to instantly lower into a ready stance, claws up to protect your face and a telekinetic barrier ready to flash into being at a moment's notice. But Blue simply continues talking, and you realize that despite the volume it's only an indication of false aggression. "Quit staring into the window! This is private property!"

You follow Blue's gaze to a human boy with crimson red hair, sneering at both of you before putting his hands into his pockets and stalking off, as instructed. Well. Good! He knows to listen to Blue. You suppose there's no problem, then. Unfortunately, you can't really relax, because now you're at the front doors to Professor Elm's lab.

Blue simply lets himself in despite the prior reminder that this is private property, but you suppose it's probably okay when he does it. You follow after him, immediately put on edge by the confined smells, echoing sounds, mechanical whirrs and people in labcoats. Wake up, eighty-one. Finish your breakfast, eighty-one. We're gathering data on your eyes today, eighty-one. You can't be asleep for the procedure because we need you to hold them steady. You'll be punished if you twitch. Good work, eighty-one. Back to your cell, eighty-one. Come on then. Come on.

"Hey, come on, Mercury!" Blue calls, waving you further inside. You jolt, embarrassed, and move to follow. "Elm, we're finally doing it. You have the cards ready?"

"Hmm?" the white coat responds, a tall, reedy man with weakness radiating off of him like the stench of sweat. The two of you have barely interacted at all, and you hate him all the same. "Oh! Mercury! Welcome, welcome. You know, I was just reading through the recovered data on you the other day and I think—"

"Woah there, egghead," Blue says, cutting him off. "Do you have the cards ready or not?"

Silently you thank him again. You hate any conversation about 'data.'

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. They were ready a month ago. As are… well, let's see, I still have… Cindaquill left, I think?"

"No need, just the cards and 'dex," Blue dismisses, walking over to a nearby computer and logging in. "I have a set of my own to offer. Mercury, what are your opinions on… let's see. Yeah, this'll work. Porygon, Psyduck, or Vulpix?"

This is it. Your partner. You get the feeling that this will be a rather important choice.

Chapter Text

"Which do you think would be best suited?" you ask, not knowing why the decision is being given to you.

He gives you the sort of concerned look that means you've done something wrong but in a way that makes Aunt Tess want to hug you rather than hurt you, which is always a bit confusing.

"I think all three of them would be well-suited to you," he answers. "That's why I picked them. Porygon is an artificial, man-made Pokémon, and I think it might set off your traumas a little less because of it. Psyduck is calm, patient, easy to manage, and has similar psychic abilities, if much weaker. I think he'd be easy to train. And Vulpix was born in the Alola region, so she's got white hair like yours, and you can help keep each other cool. I know you have problems with overheating sometimes."

You don't have problems with overheating. Ambient temperatures survivable for humans don't appreciably damage you, whether they're hot or cold. You suppose it's a lot more comfortable in the cold, though.

"I have no preference," you say simply.

He sighs, scratching his head.

"How about… I get all three of them out here and you choose after meeting them?" he suggests.

You bristle instinctively at the idea of sharing space with a Pokémon, but nod slowly anyway. A short while later, three Pokéballs are tossed and reveal a Porygon (Frail, but do not use shadows), a Psyduck (Slow. Easily distracted. Flank and target center of mass), and a… hmm. A Vulpix. Except white instead of red. Cold instead of hot. You've never fought this kind before.

It does, indeed, match your hair.

The small creature yawns, raising its front left and back right leg and stretching them out as far as it can before alternating the motion. It is not aggressive, but nor is it addressing you. You glance to the Psyduck, which is conversely staring right at you, head tilted to ask who you are and what's going on. You do not deign to answer it, instead shifting your attention to the Porygon, which is as… incomprehensible as always. There's something so… simple about it that disturbs you on a fundamental level. An artificial Pokémon made by humans, or so you've heard. Yet it does not speak, it does not… communicate.

Is this what most humans think Pokémon are?

An indignant trill from the white Vulpix catches your attention, its lazy gaze and impatient posture carrying a clear message: "Is someone going to tell us what we're doing here, or are we just waiting around?"

It's as clearly and obviously a sentence to you as anything spoken by a human, a universal language divorced from specific sounds or symbols yet still just as complete. It's most of the way you understand humans at this point, the words they speak often being more confusing than the ideas they convey simply by being. You remember before, when you couldn't understand people this way, and you conclude that no human can. They get confused with basic body language, they hesitate at obvious lies.

It's weird. But you suppose your illusions can't really carry that information very well, so maybe you're the problem.

"One of you is going to be owned by me," you answer aloud, the voice usually carrying enough information to communicate on its own.

The Vulpix and Psyduck hesitate, both seeming to take a moment to process my statement without the normal body language to make it more easily comprehensible. They seem to get even more worried once they finish parsing.

"...Mercury, there's no need to scare them," Blue says gently.

"Hey!" the Vulpix protests indignantly, standing up straight and bristling its fur at you. "I'm not afraid!"

You squat down, and though you're quite short for a human you still easily tower over the Vulpix. Your hair billows behind the illusion, a well-trained instinct to put down the animal seeping out of you like water from a cracked bucket. You start to apply telekinetic pressure, crushing the three little Pokémon under a slowly-increasing weight, disabling them, squeezing the very air from their lungs. The threat, you feel, is pretty obvious.

"You should be," you're saying back. "Kneel."

The Psyduck quivers. The Porygon collapses. The Vulpix, however, stands its ground, ice crystals starting to swirl around its body as a pathetic prelude to what might be a dangerous attack to a Caterpie. Pathetic. You just keep increasing the pressure, because sooner or later—

"Mercury!" Blue snaps, fear of his displeasure shattering your attack like glass. What did you do? What did you do wrong!? "Stop! You don't… you're picking a partner. You're not establishing dominance. You're not there anymore. Remember?"

You hesitate. You stop. Not there anymore. Never again.

"You don't fight against your partner," Blue continues. "You fight with them. You treat them like me, or your Aunt. Okay?"

That's… not quite… that doesn't make sense. You can't treat them like Blue. He's… (Strong. Proven. Worthy.) your rescuer. And you don't really need or want another Aunt Tess. These people, meanwhile, are weak. So how would you… oh, wait. There is one thing you do around Tess and Blue that you could do here.

You drop your illusion. The Porygon's reaction… you can't parse. The Psyduck seems afraid. The Vulpix… seems surprised.

"Wait. You're one of us?"

You let a twitch of your tail and flick of your ear carry most of your message.

"I am but I am not."

"Well, what are you then?" the Vulpix asks.

You think for a moment, and then decide.

"Your trainer."

"The Vulpix is most worthy of partnership," you declare aloud. "I will take it."

"Her," Blue corrects. "She's a girl, like you."

Well. You could smell that. You just didn't find it relevant at the time.

"Okay," you say.

"Do you want to name her?" Blue asks.

Not… really?

"Ooh, yeah, I want a cool human name!" the Vulpix bounces. "You can speak human, right? They make so many neat sounds!"

Well. Hrm. Perhaps you can think of one?

You hesitate, wracking your brain for a good name. What makes a good name? You don't know. Your name is Mercury because you were told your name is Mercury. And that's fine; you have no issues with your name. It's a preferable form of address to "subject eighty-one," though honestly you didn't have much of an objection to that either. Though… hmm. You're pretty sure you did at first, but… it just sort of stopped feeling like an issue in the face of everything else, after a while.

Anyway. Names. Your Vulpix wants a 'cool human name,' which makes sense because your Vulpix is Ice type. A regional variant, you assume. So… what names are cool? What names evoke coolness? Air Conditioning Unit? No, that's a bit wordy. Names have superior utility when they are relatively short. Blizzard? It's a powerful move that has given you trouble in the past, but you're not sure that's a 'human' name, specifically. It's more of a human description for a Pokémon thing.

You wrack your brain a bit harder. What was something that represented coolness to you back when you were human…?

"...Winter," you decide. "Your name will be Winter."

"Ooh!" the Vulpix (er, Winter you suppose) coos, a shake of her body and trill of curiosity carrying her question. "What does it mean?"

"It is the time of frost," you explain, shivering almost imperceptibly to better carry the information. "When the cold strips leaves from trees and the snow leaks down from mountaintops to cover the rest of the land."

"Oooh, what? That's awesome!" the Vulpix wiggles happily. "Gosh, that's badass. Winter! The great bringer of snow! Inevitable death of plants! Muahahaha!"

"She seems to like her name," Blue says, smiling at you. (This doesn't bother you. It's easy to see from posture that humans are almost always happy when they show teeth, not aggressive.)

"Yes," you agree. "It is a good season. I like snow. I hope I will be able to see it."

Blue and Elm shoot each other a concerned look that you think might be subtle by human standards. To you, of course, it very obviously reads as "holy shit this poor girl thinks she's going to die or get recaptured in the next few months," which. Well. Yes, most likely?

Professor Elm clears his throat, prompting you to tense up and mentally prepare yourself for something painful.

"I, ah, as I was trying to say earlier," he says awkwardly. "I was just reading through the recovered data on you the other day and I think it's largely good news. The Ghost-type energy attacking your living cells is a concern, but a much more minor one than initially feared. The natural regenerative capabilities of your other aspects look like they're successfully saving your life, and sustainably so. Your human cells are all dying, but they're… being replaced with functional substitutes. It's hard to tell exactly how it all works, but since your health has only improved over the past three months, I think we have very little incentive to intervene with this ongoing process."

"Wait wait wait," Blue says. "You're saying all her human cells are dying, and that this is a good thing?"

"Well, not a 'good thing,' per se," Elm answers, physically making the air quotes, "just a thing that is less likely to result in her death than attempting to stop it with our current limited understanding."

"But what if it gets to her brain?" Blue asks.

Professor Elm blinks, indicating surprise due to incorrect assumption of shared information.

"Leader Blue, her brain was already mostly converted when you found her," Elm says. "Last I checked it was over ninety-nine percent Pokémon cells. By all accounts she should have already lost sapience, but if anything her lucidity has been improving. Our primary theory is that her mind was captured within her own Psychic energy field before it could be destroyed in a sort of… reverse astral projection situation, but unless you can convince Sabrina to collaborate with us it'd be difficult to test the theory."

"Yeah, I definitely cannot do that," Blue sighs. "That woman is terrifying."

"Okay, I am totally lost," Winter says, and you let your gaze drift down to her rather than flick back and forth between the two tall men. "Humans are normally a little difficult to understand but this is just weirdo nonsense stuff. Do you understand this?"

"Mostly," you confirm with a trill.

"What are they talking about?"

"They are mostly talking about me," you answer, nose wiggling and tail bristling.

"Wait, really?" she says, glancing around in disbelief. "But you're right here and they aren't even paying attention to you."

"Humans do that frequently. I am not sure how."

"Gosh, yeah. Okay, I'm picking up on more of this now. How are they not constantly looking at you every time you're mentioned?"

"Humans have a remarkable talent for ignoring things, in my experience," you shrug.

"I guess?" she agrees, hopping closer to try and nuzzle you. "Hey, so do you wanna—"

She cuts herself off because you have hopped away, your hair flaring with threat. You let out a long, low hiss.

"Do NOT touch me."

"Woah, woah!" Blue says, finally breaking away from his conversation with the scientist. "You okay, Mercury? Did something happen?"

Yes. Obviously. Why do humans need to vocalize everything!?

"Winter is not allowed to touch me," you declare.

"Mercury, calm down," Blue says, his voice soft and posture implying a lack of command but you take it as an order anyway and shove your emotions down, keeping your body still. "She's not going to hurt you. Remember?"

You almost wrinkle your nose in irritation before remembering to keep still and project calm. You know that, though. Winter couldn't hurt you if she tried, she is too weak.

"My objection is not due to the assumption of threat," you clarify.

"Mercury…" Blue sighs. "It's going to be tough to travel with Winter if you avoid any and all contact. It's better if you get used to her. Right?"

You hesitate. Blue's words are important but you really don't like touching Pokémon, but… surely he has a reason? You should listen to him. He's… you just need to listen to him. Hesitantly, you hold out a hand to Winter, affecting apology and acceptance.

Winter is unsure at first, which is wise of her, but your continued insistence for her to ignore your prior order eventually supercedes that and she steps forward to rub her face on your hand, which—

ICE fine fur density ICE skeletal similarities ICE mass conversion required ICE

Your skin ripples, organs straining and protesting as they try and fail to shrink.

ICE muscular inferiority ICE resistance inferiority ICE throughput inferiority ICE

It hurts. It hurts a lot. But you've hurt a lot worse for a lot longer for far less worthy reasons, and you have no trouble enduring it. Your hair writhes and your form twitches, but that's all it is. Instincts that don't work, a broken body at war with itself.

An easy illusion. So similar in form. A difficult illusion. So different in form. An easy illusion. ICE. So similar in form. ICE. Reorganize claw structure. ICE. A difficult illusion. ICE. Pigmentation shift required. ICE. So small and devoid of hate. ICE.

You exhale, and it feels frigid against your lips. You should probably stop now.

"That's enough," you say, and pull your hand away.

"There you go, see?" Blue smiles. "Pokémon can be pretty touchy-feely, so it's good to let them rub their face on you if they feel comfortable with it. It means they like you, so not letting them do it can send the message that you don't like them."

Oh. Is that why humans don't want you to nuzzle them? You don't get the impression that Aunt Tess or Blue don't like you, though…

"Why does this empty-headed Snom think you need to know what nuzzling is?" Winter grumbles.

"You should be more respectful," you chide her. "He was your original trainer."

"He hasn't trained me!" Winter protests. "He trained my mom. I've barely met the guy."

Blue laughs, combing his spiky hair back with his fingers.

"Well, I guess if you're already talking with her like that, that's a good sign," he says.

Um. Talking with her like what? You're pretty sure Blue can't understand Winter at all. In fact, his tone and posture indicate a significant degree of condescension, even more than normal. Like he doesn't believe you're even having a conversation in the first place. He thinks you're… making it up? But not in a way that would indicate insanity. 

Ugh, wait, that's right. Of course he doesn't think you're having a conversation. Humans can't really communicate with Pokémon and you've never been particularly successful at explaining how Pokémon communication works, only frustrating yourself with failed attempts. Humans seem to struggle with wrapping their heads around complex nonverbal signaling in the same way you struggle with math, or doorknobs. Humans are good at patterns, complexities, and deductions. Pokémon, meanwhile, are good at subtleties, situational awareness, and empathy. Different strengths for different beings.

You've always thought you were somewhere in the middle, since you look like you're somewhere in the middle. You have a lot of Pokémon features, sure, but your body shape is human, your posture is human, your face is mostly human outside of the fur, you have mostly-human hands and mostly-human feet and you can still speak the human language. But still… ninety-nine percent Pokémon brain mass, huh?

This is exactly why you hate data.

"Where is Goldenrod City?" you ask, deciding the best option is to just focus on your objective.

"Oh, right!" Professor Elm says, shuffling off to his desk and unlocking a drawer. He returns with two devices, an odd square-shaped red one and a pink-and-white complex hinged… thingy. "Pokédex and Pokégear, just for you. The Pokégear has a map and GPS feature, so while it can get pretty wild out there you should always know at least the general direction to your destination."

You hesitate slightly, then take them.

"How… do they work?" you immediately turn to ask Blue, since you know you have no hope of figuring that out on your own.

"Uhhh, the Professor can explain that one," Blue answers, pulling out his own Pokégear and checking it. "I've already stayed here too long as-is. Got places to go and asses to kick, you know how it is."

You shake your head. You don't know very much about going places at all. You were kept in a cage.

"I'll talk to you later, okay Mercury?" Blue promises, turning to depart. "Call me when you get to Goldenrod and I'll try to find time to meet up. My number is in your gear. And, uh, you can also call me if you get in trouble, okay? Anything serious happens, and you let me know. Alright?"

You nod.

"And call your Aunt sometimes! Her number's in that thing too! Bye!"

He jogs out of the lab, and you catch a glimpse of the Pidgeot he sends out and starts to jump on top of (Powerful, deadly, dangerous, do not engage) before the door shuts behind him.

Professor Elm starts explaining the Pokégear to you, but you struggle to listen to him as the stress of the laboratory starts setting in around you, now devoid of any oasis of comfort. You think you get the basics, though a lot of features still escape you, like the radio. The numbers go up and down and that makes the sounds that come out different somehow…? You don't think it affects the map feature, though, so it's probably not that big of a deal.

The Pokédex, meanwhile, just gives you a lot of information on Winter, but it's mostly encyclopedic documentation which takes way too much focus and effort to read. You keep confusing words for other words that have the same shape and having to re-read things. It's frustrating.

"Thank you," you say, cutting off Professor Elm mid-sentence, an act that takes all of your courage to accomplish. "I think I understand the map feature. I am going to leave now. Goodbye."

Winter snickers at Elm's baffled expression as you about-face and walk away without another word, skipping beside and slightly behind you, which she should as your lesser. You do your best to stuff your new devices into your small pockets, including Winter's Pokéball, to limited but still technical success. You'll have to be holding either the Pokédex or the Pokégear at all times since they don't both fit, but that's fine. You'll probably have to have the map out all the time anyway? Whatever. You'll manage.

You're not wearing much other than short shorts and a tank top, since you're still not used to how clothing feels on top of your skin and more clothing tends to be uncomfortably warm anyway. The lack of decent pockets is a noteworthy downside, however.

Nothing for it, though. You weave your illusion back up, putting on your human face just in time to glance at a red shape rapidly retreating from outside the window to the lab. Hmm. Well, whatever. It was retreating so you don't consider it very important.

You exit the lab, your new map helpfully telling you to head west and even more helpfully telling you which direction west is. You turn that way and start walking, stopping only when you hear an unexpected voice from behind you.

"Mercury! Mercury, honey, wait!" the panting voice of your aunt calls.

You stop as instructed and turn to face her, faintly smug at how easily she gets winded. (Weak. Why do you listen to her?) She's holding a backpack, which smells of poorly-made poffins.

"You… huff ... forgot to eat dinner, honey," she says. "And… you need something to carry things… for your journey. Right? I packed you… a water bottle. And two changes of clothes. And… some extra snacks. And a little spending money. So stock up… on more food… when you get to Cherrygrove. Okay?"

You blink. That. Is. Um. All very helpful. And you would not have thought of it.

"Th-thank you," you manage, accepting the backpack.

She shifts forward for a moment, then stops, hesitant.

"...Can I give you one last hug goodbye?" she asks.

You tilt your head, calculating. She probably can't squeeze hard enough to destabilize the illusion that much.

"Okay," you allow, and she reaches around you, pulling you in. She smells… nice. Sad. Scared. Relieved. Worried. Hopeful. Hesitant. Guilty. Loving.

"I don't know if you're less likely to get hurt out there or more," she sniffs, tears starting to fall down her face and sink into your fur. You try to adjust your illusion so it looks wet. "We send ten-year-olds out there for Arceus' sake, but you… just be safe. Okay? I don't want to lose you for good this time."

You don't know what to say to that. So you say nothing.

"Be yourself, Mercury," she tells you. "You can be more than just what people tell you to do."

You frown slightly. You're not sure how you would do that. You're not sure you want to be more than that. But. Okay. If that's what she wants…

You rub her cheek with your own, letting out an affectionate rumble from your throat. She squeezes you even harder, and proves you quite wrong: your illusion breaks. But that's okay. You nuzzle her a bit more fervently in return, then step away, returning your illusion to normal.

"Goodbye, Aunt Tess," you tell her.

"Goodbye, Mercury," she answers back.

You turn and depart, and soon your map chirps to inform you that you have stepped out of the bounds of New Bark Town. You are now on Route 29, on the way to Cherrygrove City, which is decidedly not Goldenrod City but seems like a fairly clear prerequisite. To get to Goldenrod you'll have to go to Cherrygrove, then swim across a bay, then walk to the opposite side of a peninsula, and then finally reach Goldenrod. Your map is telling you to go in a weird snake pattern where you go up and then over and then down and then over and then up again to get to Goldenrod, but your method seems rather more direct.

Judging by how small the map is, it probably won't even take too long to get there.

Chapter Text

"Hey, look!" Winter chirps, distracting you from your musings as she points towards the grass with her nose. "A Pidgey! We gonna fight it?"

Your first instinct is to ignore the little bird, since it is weak and no threat to you. But… wait. You're supposed to be a Pokémon trainer now. It's your job to make Winter a more powerful fighter, and her weakness reflects poorly on you as her leader. So… yes. Perhaps a fight is warranted.

Besides, you're hungry.

"Go, Winter," you order her. "Show me what you can do."

"You got it!" she signals back, and she then blurs, flashing forwards with a preemptive, high-speed tackle. You identify the move fairly easily. It's the one where you coat yourself in the creatively-named 'Normal-type' energy and use it to rapidly accelerate. Quick Attack, they called it.

Your Pokédex chirps, and you glance at it to find that it, too, concurs with your assessment. Hmm. That might be useful for moves you don't know, you suppose.

The Pidgey is caught off guard with a panicked squawk, retaliating by sending a gust of wind at the ground, launching the bird into the air and simultaneously kicking up a cloud of dust into Winter's eyes. She makes a frustrated noise, opens her mouth, and blows, expelling a frigid wind imbued with Ice that strikes the Pidgey dead-on, ripping into its inherent Flying nature with voracious intensity. The bird falls, unconscious in moments.

You scowl.

"Stop," you order.

She stops with a jump, startled by your harsh tone.

"Wh… but I won!" she yelps.

Of course she won, that's not the problem. But you really, really struggle with putting your annoyance into words.

"You let it hit you," you accuse.

"I didn't let it do anything!" Winter protests. "We're fighting, of course it's going to try to hit me."

You use your Psychic power to pluck a feather from the Pidgey, which shrieks, waking up. Its barrier is still down, so it likely won't handle additional combat well, but you don't really care. You release it.

"Again," you order.

Still blinking sand from her eyes, Winter huffs in annoyance, launching herself towards the Pidgey as it attempts to fly away. It swerves, because of course it does, and counter-tackles. Winter is barely injured, though, and unleashes another Powder Snow to knock it out again.

Your scowl deepens.

"You let yourself be hit again," you accuse. "You don't have to do that."

"What do you mean 'I don't have to do that?'" Winter protests. "What do you want me to do, ask them nicely to not attack?"

You squat down, telekinetically picking up the Pidgey again and pulling its feathers out. It doesn't wake this time, far too seriously injured, so you start crushing it with Psychic power, twisting its head and straining its spine until it finally shatters, leaving nothing but cold, dead flesh. Winter makes a shocked gasp behind you as you pluck out the rest of the feathers, lift the defeated foe up to your face, and take a bite.

The blood is uncomfortably warm. You should have had Winter chill it more for you. As you slowly chew and swallow, you wrack your brain for a better way to explain the problem.

"You got hit," you tell Winter slowly, "because you put your body in a place that was easy to hit. You could have stayed back and struck from a distance."

"I-it's easier to hit someone if I'm closer to them," Winter protests, seeming distracted.

"Yes," you agree. "For them, too."

"But it was weak!" Winter argues. "Yeah, it hit me, but it barely even hurt. Who cares?"

You take another bite out of the bird, trying to wrap your head around that profoundly stupid way of thinking. Again, Winter flinches when you chomp down, uncomfortable with the death she just participated in. So weak.

"...How many enemies will you have to fight today?" you ask her.

"Um. I don't know."

You nod. Exactly. You don't know.

"It is not winning if you defeat a foe and then lose afterwards," you tell her. "It is not winning if you defeat ten foes and then lose afterwards. Each and every conquest should be made with the assumption that you will have to have the energy to do it again afterwards. And again. And again. And again and again until there is nothing left."

You pop the rest of the Pidgey into your mouth. You have had a nice rest, these past few months. But now you finally have a task.

"You do not know what they will let out of the cage next," you tell her. "So you must always assume it can kill you, if you want to live."

"I-I…" Winter stammers, shaking and whimpering. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to…"

You tilt your head, hesitating. It's not bad that Winter is scared, per se, but you're a little confused as to why she's as frightened as she is. Oh! Your illusion is up. She might be misinterpreting you.

"To be clear, I am not implying that I will kill and eat you for your failure," you inform her succinctly. "Part of my current task is to be your trainer, and therefore it is to make you strong. You are not about to be punished."

"O-oh. Okay," she says. "Um. Why did you… kill that Pidgey, though?"

You blink.

"I was hungry. I would have offered you some but you didn't seem like you wanted any."

"But that… you just killed somebody. Right?"

Yes? You don't see the big deal. You've killed a lot of people.

"Did you think no one else was going to eat that unconscious Pidgey if I didn't?" you ask, tilting your head.

Winter looks startled, indicating she's never really thought about that, or had to think about that. Which makes sense, you suppose. She was born in Blue's care, and she's clearly been fed with more than the corpses of her defeated foes. You have as well; most of your meals were rather more tasteless, prepared for purposes only the scientists in charge of you could divine. Some of them were okay, but some were actively painful, clawing at you from the inside with every bite. You ate everything you were given, all the same. Such was your task.

You admittedly don't know much about living in the wild either, come to think of it, but you know that humans and Pokémon eat other Pokémon all the time. You've seen it.

Winter opens her muzzle to yip out a response, but you feel a sudden threat behind you and twist to focus your attention on that instead, power gathering and body dropping low.

…There's a Pokéball flying towards your face.

With a twist of will you wrap your Psychic abilities around the incoming sphere, halting it in its place before reversing its momentum, launching it instinctively back to sender. With a sharp pap the thrower catches the returned projectile, staring you down with an intense expression. Anger, suspicion, hate, pride, insecurity. It's the red-haired boy that was staring into the laboratory, and he seems rather aggressive.

"I knew it," he sneers.

You blink, rather less interested in acknowledging that than you are in anticipating what his next move will be. A human is fighting you? Alone? You look around. You're not in view of town anymore, alone in the thick brush of the unpaved road to Cherrygrove. You could probably just kill him…? No, wait, you're definitely not supposed to attack humans, you're supposed to be acting like one.

"What are you?" he asks. "Where do you come from?"

Hmm. These are rather less aggressive questions, at least.

"I am Mercury," you tell him. "I am from New Bark Town."

It says so on your trainer card. That's apparently where you lived before, too. He gets angrier at your answer, though.

"That's not what I… never mind. I heard you talking. You think you're strong?"

You tilt your head, considering that. It's a bit of a complicated question. You think back to your experiences. The many, many fights you have won. But also the many you have lost. You never would have escaped that place on your own. Never in a million years. It was as beyond you as the sun. But then Blue swept in with his team of combat machines, and…

You tried to fight him.

Because that's what you were. When someone throws a Pokémon in your cage, you were supposed to kill it. But Blue saw you, naked and afraid, and he… so effortlessly he…

You shake your head. Strength is relative. There's no definitive measure of 'strong.' But there's one thing you know for certain.

"I am not strong enough," you decide.

Then you think about it a little more in the context of the situation, the reason this red-haired human is asking, and add:

"But I'm stronger than you."

The boy smirks. He seems to like your answer, which you find interesting.

"You think so, huh?" he says, pulling out a different Pokéball from the one he threw at you. "Then prove it. I challenge you to a battle. But here's the thing, freak: I know what you are."

You blink, rather unimpressed by this revelation. He's probably the red figure you saw fleeing the window to Elm's lab.

"There aren't a lot of places you can come from," he continues. "You're not the person you walk around pretending to be. You were made. And I know what that means. You're a perfect fit for the strongest trainer, which is going to be me!"

You were about to walk off, but now he has your attention. The strongest trainer? A laughable claim for one so weak, but certainly a worthy goal. You square up more seriously.

"Let's fight, freak," he sneers. "Either as a trainer or a Pokémon, I don't care how."

"I don't like this guy one bit," Winter growls. "Let's kick his ass!"

You glance down at her, not sure what to say. Fight him as a trainer or a Pokémon? A trainer or a Pokémon? What a frustrating dichotomy. You are a Pokémon. That's what Professor Elm said. A human mind trapped in a Pokémon's body. But you're also a trainer. You were given a Pokémon by Blue, given the task of training her, and that's what you intend to do. You're both. Why should you have to decide between one or the other?

"I choose both," you declare. "I will fight you as Trainer and Pokémon."

You point at him with a still-bloody hand, letting your illusion flicker and drop to reveal it. You taste his flash of fear, the Ghost in you bubbling in response.

"Winter! Stop anything he sends out. I will disable the human directly."

Again, fear. But not panic. He lowers his body, narrows his eyes, moves one arm to his belt. He is ready to fight. Good.

You form a telekinetic blade and launch it, but the boy is already tossing two Pokéballs. The first intercepts your strike, emerging from the sphere in a burst of light… and taking your attack without flinching. It's got a dark body, standing on two legs, with two long claws on its hands and feet. Sneasel. You scowl.

You hate Dark types.

Your body is primarily energized with Ghost and Psychic, both elements that Dark prefers as prey. Even worse, Dark types are completely immune to any sort of Psychic energy, capable of disrupting it merely by existing. Your other options for offense aren't much better.

"Cindaquill, go for the small one!" the boy commands, and you also glance over to notice the Fire-type Pokémon that was also sent out. A poor match for Winter. "Sneasel, defend me!"

This Dark type isn't very strong, but your instincts still scream for you to get away; any attack from it, even a weak one, could be devastating. Your offense and speed are your best attributes, but your defenses are incredibly frail, probably because of how your body keeps trying to kill you. Even though it resists your shadows, you can probably take the Sneasel out in one or two hits, but you wouldn't bet on it doing any worse than you on that front.

Winter, like you, faces a nasty type matchup. This is bad. Your plan to strike the human is probably best, so you jump backwards to make distance from the Sneasel, gather your hatred in your palm, and launch it directly at the red-haired boy… who actually dodges to the side! Quite acrobatically too, at least for a human. You are begrudgingly impressed, though you know that under concentrated fire you'll be able to tag him and even a single hit is liable to do enough damage to end the fight. But if you do that, you'll be ignoring the Dark type… and you don't want Winter to lose her battle either!

What a horrible situation. Having a partner is new, but otherwise this is… disturbingly nostalgic.

Well. First thing's first. Target selection. You must cull the weak so they cannot support the strong. You fire a psychic blast towards the boy, which his Sneasel jumps up to bodyblock, giving you time to immediately swap targets to the Cindaquill and unload on it with concentrated bolts of malice.

Winter, for her part, is doing fairly well—which is to say she hasn't gotten hit yet. Having taken your words to heart, she is avoiding the Cindaquill first and chipping it down with blasts of frosty energy second. Each individual hit is doing very little, but she's slowly chipping it down. It doesn't seem like she'll avoid an inevitable defeat, though; while Cindaquil's puffs of flame aren't all that threatening, it is getting better at aiming them as the fight goes on, and the Cindaquil isn't that much slower than Winter.

All that, of course, changes on a dime when your bolts of Ghost-type energy intervene. Despite being caught off guard, the Cindaquil manages to avoid most of your attack, but even a glancing blow is enough to bring it to the brink of unconsciousness. Sensing weakness, you wreathe yourself in energy and burst forwards, using the sudden acceleration to get a quick follow-up strike to the still-recovering Fire Pokémon. With a quick flash of movement and a devastating kick to the gut, you send the Pokémon tumbling head-over-heels before it smacks into the ground, bounces once, and eventually skids to a stop well outside his trainer's sphere of influence, entirely unconscious and beyond rescue. He'll probably live, but no revives are happening on your watch.

You're tempted to eat him, but that would be foolish while another enemy still harasses you.

"Winter," you rumble. "This is the appropriate time to use your speed offensively: to finish the job. No counterattack can occur if you know your foe will not challenge you anymore."

"Y-yes ma'am!" your Vulpix chirps.

"Take point," you order. "Deal with the other one. I will support you."

"Yes! Ma'am!"

Ahh. You should hate this, you feel. This pointless fight. This grating reminder of your every abuse. But you don't. A grin splits your face as your foe approaches, the image of your tormenters fueling that hateful manifestation of your Ghost energy, purple licks of fury twisting and writhing in your palm. Bitter Malice. Grudge given form. A legacy of a long-dead ancestor, the power of which was used on a lark to try and deal with the fact that every other experiment just kept dying.

If you were going to die anyway, the scientists mused, why not try to make you a Ghost?

So you screamed and you begged and you clawed yourself every night, the change twisting you, killing you, but never quite finishing the job. Until your hair fell out and turned to ash, until your spine twisted out of your back like a crying snake, until the fur sprouted from you and left your body and mind white as snow. You don't know if you're dead. You don't know if you're still the girl you were, years and years ago.

But right now, in this battle for supremacy? You don't have to wonder. You only have to win. And that is so, so preferable to the agony of freedom that you almost hope you don't. You almost hope, in some crying, twisted part of you, that you go back to being a slave just so you can finally stop wondering what the fuck you're supposed to do with yourself now.

You should hate fighting. But it is so much easier than literally everything else that you. Just. Can't.

The Sneasel is much faster than the Cyndaquil, a massive difference in both natural ability and experience obvious from the get-go. Winter would absolutely struggle to handle it on her own, but with you and her working together it's no contest. As you fire globs of shadow over your Vulpix's shoulder, forcing the Sneasel onto the defensive, Vulpix gets free hit after hit with her wide-area bursts of weak Ice. It's almost boring.

"Sneasel! Feint Attack!" the boy yells.

You're not entirely sure what Feint Attack is but you don't have to care; almost immediately afterwards you clip the Sneasel with a bolt of Malice, sending him sprawling. Too easy. You burst forward to finish the job… only to realize moments too late that Feint Attack probably involves a feint—

PAIN.

The Sneasel's claws, vibrating with the black energy most anathema to you, tears into your chest, the natural defenses of your body barely holding together. Gah! You got too excited, too overconfident, and let the Dark type trick your senses. The Sneasel is weak, but Dark energy hurts so, so much! Foolish, foolish, foolish! You'll be punished for this failure!

Roaring with frustration, you counter with a knee to the tiny monster's gut, smashing into it as hard as you can muster. The unresisted, point-blank strike knocks out your foe in an instant, granting you victory. But it's a hollow victory, especially because when the boy sends out his next Pokémon you might be too weak to…

To…

You stare at the boy. He stares back at you, fear in his eyes. He does not have any more Pokémon.

You grin, blood from your last meal still on your teeth.

Victory.

Chapter Text

Victory. 

It always tastes sweet. Soaking in the ambient energy left over from a fight is an addicting feeling. More power, yours for the taking. Gather enough of it and you know you'll get stronger, faster, tougher. Manipulating the energy of your body will come easier. You'll just be… more. With every victory, you'll become more. It's intoxicating.

…As is this fear. The boy shivers in place, his body tense and ready to bolt, but he's seen you move, he knows how fast you are, and as prey he's aware that fleeing will only encourage you to chase. Your tail flicks back and forth. This… this is different from every other time, isn't it? You won, and that doesn't mean you go back to the cage, it doesn't mean you face an ongoing gauntlet, it doesn't mean you're taken away for testing. You just… win. And as an official Pokémon League trainer, you're pretty sure that you're supposed to win something tangible.

You stalk forwards, trying to decide what you'll take. Hmm… Well, before that, you should ensure your victory is truly complete. It doesn't sit well with you to do otherwise. This child insisted that he would be your master, but he has shown himself to be unworthy. If you are too gentle with him, he might get ideas about trying again.

He needs to know his place.

You walk slowly forwards, your hands outstretched. The boy holds his ground, defiant and arrogant to a fault.

"You have lost," you remind him.

He glowers at you.

"That fucking Cyndaquil was weak," he growls. "I should have known better than to rely on it."

He started the fight, yet he blames his own pack for the loss? Foolish. Terrible leader. Unworthy.

"Get on your knees," you order him. "You have failed to win me. Now I get a prize."

"Fuck you," he hisses. "I don't—"

You step forward, wrapping both clawed hands around his face and squeezing, forcing him down to the ground.

"You will kneel," you hiss. "Or I will eat you."

Terror. Good. Delicious. The ghost in you sings with glee. You love this, you've always loved this. When the men outside the cages screamed. When you managed to fool them with illusions. When one of them finally got too close. Does he think you won't kill him? You will. You will and you'll make sure he knows it.

"You said you knew something of where I come from," you sneer, pushing him further downwards, making him strain against you just to keep breathing as his knees kiss the dirt. "But if that were true, you would know better than this. You would know better than to expect mercy out of the thing they made."

"Alright, I miscalculated," he hisses. "I heard you getting high and mighty over how to fight Pidgey, talking to your stupid little fox like it can understand you, pretending you can be a trainer after nearly having a fucking breakdown when it tried to touch you. I thought you were weak. I was wrong. I don't know what happened to you, I don't know what made you this way, but I'm sorry. Okay?"

Sorry? Are you supposed to care? Your blood is boiling with the heat of battle, the one thing you understand, and he won't take that from you.

Except… that's the thing, isn't it? He won't, but it will still be taken. The fervor, the focus, it's slowly falling away now that the fight is won, and leaving… nothing. Dread, maybe. Because you know you'll go back to hating this. You'll shut down, shut off, shove yourself back inside that stifling illusion as you walk to Cherrygrove, doing your level best to pretend to be some facsimile of a person. You'll have nothing again. Only the task. Go to Goldenrod.

You're terrified of that, but you're terrified of not having it, too. Damn it. Why are you like this? The high is fading and now you're panicking, desperately trying to remember what you're supposed to be doing right now. You're a trainer. Technically. You won a battle. So now you get paid, right?

You move your hands down to his neck, using one to hold him in place while the other rifles through his backpack. You grip your fingers around a potion, extracting it and using it to spray yourself down, feeling the energy refill you and the pain melt away as you force him to watch. You go ahead and take any other useful things you find in his bag, including more potions and a half-dozen Pokéballs.

Experimentally, you tap the button of one against your forehead, feeling it activate and send a scanning pulse over your body. Your necklace feels the tiniest bit warmer, and other than that… nothing happens. Declared non-target. The boy's eyes go wide, realizing his plan was never going to work from the start, even if he did beat you. You'll want to nuzzle Blue even more than usual when you see him.

You fish his trainer card out of his backpack too, declaring a simple name: "Silver." Sort of an odd name for a kid with bright red hair down to his shoulders, but hey. You're named after a planet, so what do you know?

"Are you done taking my things yet?" he sneers. It's almost charming how he continues being defiant with your claws to his throat. Like a baby Growlithe who won't stop yapping. Almost, but not really.

"You were intending to take me," you remind him. "Your wager should be equal."

"Why not just kill me and eat me then, like you said?" he taunts foolishly. It's almost like he wants to die.

You blink. Wait. You think… he does, a little? Only a little, but… hrm. For some reason, that makes this harder. 

"Um, please don't eat him!" Winter chirps behind you. Oh, right. You'd forgotten she was here. "The League will come after you if you do! That's what my mom said. Pokémon who kill humans are hunted down and killed in retaliation. She said she saw it happen a ton of times in the wild."

Well, that's a point. Blue wouldn't like it if you make the Pokémon League angry, you think.

"Winter has advocated for your survival," you translate for Silver, though he just thinks you're crazy. You suppose you might be, but probably not about this.

"Then I don't know what the fuck else I'm supposed to give you," he growls. "You win. You kicked my ass, you took my stuff. Get off me."

Instinctively, you do, just because you were ordered. The moment you realize this you flinch, frustrated with yourself, as Silver recalls his fainted Pokémon. Just as quickly as you released him, you grab him again, incensed at yourself beyond words. A growl claws its way from your throat, deep and unforgiving. Why are you like this? Why? You hate this, you hate him, you hate yourself, but it doesn't matter. You have a goal, right? You have a goal and you thought of it yourself: establish dominance. Take your prize for winning. You want him to know his place. You want him to fear you. You can do that.  

You can do fear. Fear is easy. Fear is your life. The writhing not-hair on your head gathers it from you, twisting and shaping it into an illusory torment. Masked face, white coat. You hold Silver down as the figment of your greatest hate produces a scalpel, just like the ones you've seen time and time again.

"Hey," Silver hisses. "What the fuck is this? Illusions? You think I'm gonna—mmph!"

Your breath heavy, you form an image of your old muzzle over his mouth, using telekinesis to force his jaw shut. Your telekinesis is short ranged and not really strong enough to do much in a fight against an equally-powerful foe, but to a powerless human? There's not much he can do to stop you when you're this close. You're not sure what the scientists did to protect themselves against it, but something they did made them immune. They were all very cautious around psychic abilities.

Silver isn't, though. But even if he was, he should be afraid. There's something special about your illusions that makes them more than just misdirection.

The scalpel comes down, and Silver screams, the sound muffled by his 'muzzle.' Your illusion ability—and for that matter, most of your physical appearance—apparently comes from an ancient, extinct ancestor to Zorua. Back when Sinnoh was called Hisui, the Zorua's illusions weren't purely optical, but infused with Ghost energy. And it was enough energy to hurt. Your illusions are illusions, technically. They are intangible. But despite this, they can still kill. And combined with your telekinesis, you can make that threat feel very, very real.

Silver writhes and tries to escape, but finds his ankles and wrists bound to an illusory operating table, illusory blood welling from illusory wounds as the scalpel cuts into his arm. Just thinking about any of this puts you on edge, let alone willing it to life once more, but the revulsion and hate you feel at the sight just makes it easier to keep building on it, keep adding to it. Malice powers your energy, and using your energy breeds yet more malice. A second scientist joins the first. The surrounding area darkens except for a single blinding lamp shining into Silver's eyes. Every detail, every torment burned into your memory comes to life. You can't make sound with your illusions yet, but the eerie quiet of the scientists as they carve into a begging, screaming person with utter indifference is, frankly, quite accurate to the real thing.

Yes. Hurt him. Hurt him like you were hurt. 

"M-ma'am?" Winter stutters fearfully. You turn to look at her, and she flinches when she meets your gaze. "What are you doing to him?"

You blink, looking back at a horrific recreation of your own memories, inflicted on another. What… what are you doing to him? Why are you doing this?

"...He wanted to own me," you say, working through the thoughts as you speak. "I won't accept anyone who doesn't understand what that means."

"Um. I don't… I think you're just going to traumatize him…?"

"Well," you grumble. "He was rude. I don't really want to accept him."

"Oh," Winter says quietly, as you have the illusion pull up Silver's shirt and start carving into his belly. "Does he… really deserve this, though?"

You swallow, a little struck by the words. Does he deserve this? Did you deserve this? The illusions vanish as your focus wavers, and Silver collapses to the ground, breath heavy and eyes wild. What were you…? No. No, this is fine. He's terrified now, which was your goal from the start. You just… accomplished your goal, and stopped. Easy as that.

"This is as far as I was planning to go in the first place," you assure Winter. You didn't stop because you were distracted, or because she asked you to. It… it never would have made sense to do more than this to begin with.

Winter doesn't look like she believes you, so you glower at her and turn away, putting your human illusion back up. …Because you're going to a human city now, not because it makes it harder for her to read you. 

Your hands are shaking. Why? Why did you…?

You leave Silver alone on the route behind you, his Pokémon fainted and his supplies plundered. He'll probably be fine, though. The Pokémon here are weak enough that even a human could probably defend themselves alone.

You have your task now. Go to Goldenrod. Meet Bill. And the first stop on your journey is Cherrygrove City. Just focus on that, and maybe you won't have to think about what you just did.

Chapter Text

You have a vague memory of cities. You've definitely been to them before, back when you were human and had a family and were capable of doing math and stuff. You're pretty sure your parents lived somewhere in Kanto, though, and so by extension you did too. You don't remember where, and you never really thought to ask.

The point is, as you make your way down the overgrown, poorly-maintained route between New Bark Town and Cherrygrove City, giving Winter occasional advice on how to better defeat unruly Sentret, you're pretty sure you can figure out how to handle a city. Cities have roads and houses and businesses and whatnot, but the only places you're likely to need to care about are the Pokémart and Pokémon Center. And they have big, brightly-colored roofs, you think? So it should be fine.

Panting and wheezing, Winter defeats her twentieth wild Pokémon in a row (which she has somewhat confusingly requested you do not eat, and while you'll make no promises she did remind you that your aunt actually packed food for you and you should probably just eat that). Still! Twenty Pokémon. While all her foes were laughably weak, that's an impressive record.

"You are doing well," you tell her. "More."

"More!?" she wheezes. "I can feel my throat freezing over!"

"Good," you say, because if her throat froze over and she couldn't feel that, that would be very concerning. "It is important to understand how to fight while exhausted, or while your primary techniques are unavailable."

"Couldn't you… huff… at least catch something… huff… so I don't have to suffer this alone?"

You frown. Catch something? You only accepted Winter as a partner in the first place at Blue's insistence. Originally, you had no real intention of even training her, but… well, you couldn't not train her when she so obviously needed help getting stronger. You don't even really dislike it, per se, it's just… not something you ever intended to do. And having even more people to train isn't something you intended to do either.

Furthermore, the Pokémon here are… really weak. Pathetically so. There's been absolutely nothing of value to the fodder Winter has been defeating by the dozen so far, other than the fact that there are a lot of them. You're hesitant about trying to teach them how to fight. You're also hesitant about the prospect of 'capturing' a Pokémon in the first place. You were captured once. It was a rather defining moment in your life and you have not enjoyed the subsequent years very much at all.

On the other hand… if you are going to masquerade as a trainer, it feels as though Blue would be happier if you at least masqueraded as a good trainer. And only having one Pokémon is… tactically unwise.

"Perhaps if we find someone worthy, I will ask if they wish to accompany us," you hedge.

"What the heck… is worthy by your standards?" Winter coughs, her breathing ragged.

Well. Probably nothing here. But it's not like you need to get a partner right now. You watch lazily as Winter winces in pain, tackling a Spinarak into a tree (a perfectly acceptable maneuver now that she's completely unable to use Powder Snow without hurting herself, and you're glad you don't need to explain that to her) at which point two things happen at once. First, the spider barely retains consciousness and counterattacks with a blast of sticky webbing, holding Winter in place.

And second, a giant pinecone with eyeballs drops down from the tree and immediately fucking explodes.

It happens so fast you don't have time to react. The two-foot-tall creature just dead drops, already glowing as a prelude to energy overload, before landing directly between Winter and her prey and detonating. Your Ghost energy devours the shockwave like it's nothing, but Winter is ripped out of the glue-like threads holding her to the ground and flung backwards at incredible speeds, already unconscious long before she smashes head-first into another tree and finally comes to a stop. You gape, panicking for a moment as you wonder what Blue will do to you if you fail to keep Winter alive, but the Vulpix seems to be breathing. Thank goodness.

Reassured, you turn your attention back to Winter's better. Well. Arguably. The Pokémon is unconscious as well, having used up literally all of its power in a single, explosive burst to take out two enemies at once. Which is… impressive! Courageous! Majestic, even! You don't know what this Pokémon is as you've never fought or spoken to one before. The scientists must have thought it would be somewhat pointless, since you weren't affected by its mighty attack anyway. Oh, wait, don't you have a thing that can tell you what this is?

You pull out your Pokédex. Pineco, it says. Wait, it's a bug type? Really? It looks like a plant. You read further. "It likes to make its shell thicker by adding layers of tree bark." Oh, so that's why it looks like a pinecone! How clever! Most Pokémon do not understand the concept of armor.

You like this creature. It's a shame it's about to be eaten, now that it's unconscious. …Unless you take it with you, you suppose.

Hmm.

You recall Winter to her Pokéball, then hesitantly step forwards to grasp the Pineco. Some of the bark-armor blasted off of it when it exploded, but there's still so much of it attached to them that you can't even see what they really look like. An impressive illusory display! Carefully, oh so carefully, you put your hands on the creature, flinching in anticipation of your body's natural reaction to contact, when… nothing happens.

Oh. Of course. Because it's tree bark, not flesh. He (he smells like a he) is lighter than you expected, too. You lift him up, wrapping both arms around him to hold him against your chest. It feels nice.

This one, you suppose, is worthy. You will bring him with you and ask him to join when he wakes.

You continue west, making your way to Cherrygrove with the Pineco sleeping in your arms. You could try using potions to give him some energy back, but you're pretty sure they're only meant to be used to shore up a Pokémon's energy stores, not to reconstitute them after they've become fully depleted. That's… a different item, you think. No real need to test it, you suppose. You're on your way to a Pokémon center anyway.

"Ah-ha!" a girlish voice suddenly shouts. "Finally, another trainer! I challenge you to a battle! Get 'em, Tutu!"

Your eyes flick towards the sound just in time to see a green, yellow, and red orb with wings emerge from a Pokéball and take an aggressive stance. Or well, as aggressive a stance as a tiny little ball can take, really. (Frail. Weak, but tricky. Priority target. Use shadows.) You recognize this Pokémon: a Natu. Primarily composed of Flying and Psychic energy, it's only a threat in packs. You twist your body towards it, hair whipping behind your illusion as you gather malice to curse it off the face of the—

"Oh, gosh, is your Pineco unconscious? I'm so sorry, never mind! Are you okay? Your clothes are all ripped!"

You blink, your cobwebbed mind starting to vaguely recall that most battles between Pokémon trainers are for sport, not survival. And right now, you look like a Pokémon trainer. …Because you are one, technically.

You glance up at the human who delivered and immediately rescinded her challenge, taking in her appearance for the first time. She seems very obviously worried about you, a concerned expression on her roundish face as she leans slightly forward as if it would help her inspect you more closely despite being at least ten feet away from you. The next thing to strike you after her worry, though, is how… flamboyant she is. She wears a close-cut red top with tight yellow shorts, both of which contrast her bright blue hair, which is… you don't even know what it is. It's like two pigtails, but they somehow come out of the back of her head and then twist sharply forwards, framing each of her cheeks in a way that reminds you of tusks or curled horns. How does she even do that? Did she take the underwire out of her bra and stick it in her hair or something?

You're very tempted to complain about how human hairstyles are ridiculous, but your hair is a ghost so you decide not to.

"Do you need help?" the girl asks you. "Tutu and I can take you to the Pokémon center!"

You kind of want to just turn away from this weirdo and walk off. You are very bad at talking and you don't really need help and you're hesitant about being around any human whose first instinct is to throw a Pokéball at you, occupied or otherwise. But… you hesitate.

She's a nice person.

You can just… see that she's a nice person, in the same way that you can see what a Pokémon is trying to communicate just by looking at the way they stand with the intonation of their little barks. She very obviously cares about your health and safety, despite the fact that she is a stranger. It would be rude to just walk off without acknowledging her, and you're pretty sure Aunt Tess would want you to talk with her.

Blue would also be proud of you for acting like a human trainer, you think.

"...I am not injured," you report to the girl. "But I am going to a Pokémon center and if you know the way that would be helpful."

"Yeah, yeah yeah! Of course, this way!" she answers immediately. "Are you sure you're not hurt, though? Your clothes have a ton of cuts on them."

You frown, and a moment later you remember to make the illusion do the same. You can't really see your clothes right now because you're rather occupied with clutching a big explosive pinecone who smells really nice, but it makes sense that they'd be damaged, both from the Sneasel's attack and from the Pineco's explosion. Oh, well. This is probably why your aunt packed you more clothes.

"I am okay," you assure her, keeping pace as she leads you further west.

"Alright, well, if you say so!" the girl says. "My name's Kris by the way. What's yours?"

"Mercury," you answer.

"Aw, that's a cool name! Really pretty."

You shrug.

"Yes," you agree. "It is better than the name I had before."

She gives you a funny look.

"Wait, what name did you… oh! Oh gosh, wait, I'm sorry! Never mind, forget I asked."

Hmm. Now she's flustered for some reason, waving her hands around apologetically. You have your illusion nod to her in a manner you hope is reassuring.

"I probably will," you tell her. "You have not offended me."

She relaxes, and you allow yourself to feel somewhat accomplished for the successful social interaction. It's easier than it usually is. You're far from perfect at crafting your human facade, especially when it comes to emoting, so most people think your illusion is creepy. Kris doesn't seem to have even noticed anything is wrong, though, or if she has she doesn't care.

"Oh! Good. Phew! I'm so sorry," she apologizes again for some reason. "Anyway, it's great to meet you, Mercury! How long have you been a trainer?"

You pull out and briefly look at your Pokégear to check the time.

"A few hours," you answer.

"Oh! Oh gosh, okay. Well, you can feel free to ask me anything! Tutu and I have been training for three weeks now! We're gonna go take on the Violet city gym!"

"Victory lies in our future!" the Natu chirps from his spot on Kris' shoulder. "The stars foretell our triumph! We are unassailable!"

"Woo!" Kris cheers along, naturally not understanding a word of it. She seems to pick up that he's excited, at least, and you can respect that.

"I am going to Goldenrod," you tell her.

"Oh, yeah? Hitting Whitney first? She started using a Miltank for her first-badge challenge too, you know."

You blink.

"I do not know who Whitney is," you admit.

"Oh! Um, she's the Goldenrod City gym leader," Kris explains. "I hear she's super tough. So wait, if you aren't going there for the gym challenge, why are you going there?"

"I am supposed to meet with a man named Bill," you tell her, because why not.

"Oh, okay. What for?"

"I am just supposed to find someone named Bill."

"Uh… well, do you have his address at least? There's probably like, a gazillion people who live in Goldenrod named Bill, you know."

Oh dear. That sounds troublesome. You got the impression that it was supposed to be a specific Bill. You shrug helplessly.

"I am going to Goldenrod City to meet Bill," you repeat, and you desperately hope that will be the end of that. Now Kris starts to look concerned, but she thankfully doesn't press.

Eventually, the overgrowth starts to thin out and the two of you finally spot Cherrygrove City. It has an odd look about it which takes you a while to put words to, but it's run-down. Even from a distance, you can see rust on the metal buildings and decay on the wooden ones. In fact, most of the buildings look entirely abandoned, even a couple skyscrapers.

"The city looks sick," you comment.

"Hmm?" Kris asks, turning to look at you questioningly.

"Humans are not living here," you clarify. "Not enough to keep the city healthy."

"Oh," Kirs says, glancing out ahead us you. "I guess so, yeah. A ton of places have been closing down. Most of my friends ended up moving out of town because their parents lost their jobs. I don't really know why, but I guess I'm getting out of here now, too. Tutu and I were just having one more training day before we make the trek to Violet City."

"I see," you acknowledge, following Kris through a few deathly empty streets. The influence of Pokémon, be they empowered with Bug or Grass or Ghost or Steel, quickly devours the works of man if they are left unattended. Grassy terrain claws up from beneath asphalt and concrete. Homes are chewed to nothing by hungry creatures. Even without the chirp of activity you're used to in the forest, even with the silence and stillness in this decomposing space, you know this rapid deconstruction is the work of Pokémon. Even the smallest and weakest among them can shape the world if left unattended. That is, you suppose, why humans covet their power. Why they want to take that power for themselves.

Why they made you.

Before long you finally reach part of the city that actually feels lived in, with a modest selection of actually-maintained storefronts and, of course, a Pokémon center. Kris leads you inside with a triumphant "ta-da!" and you step inside after her, blinking against the artificial light.

You remember what Pokémon Centers are because they are so remarkable—a free mini-hospital for Pokémon that doubles as a hotspot for traveling trainers to meet, rest, manage their trainerly affairs, and so on. Funded entirely by the Pokémon League, they're a big part of what makes being a traveling trainer so possible and affordable. You vaguely remember being wowed by them as a child, before you became like this, but this is the only time you remember actually being in one.

…It's much less impressive than you expected. If anything, it sort of feels like that place, thick with the smell of blood, antiseptics, and Pokémon in pain.

Still, you walk up to the counter where a woman with pink hair smiles at you and set down both the Pineco and the Pokéball that contains Winter.

"Welcome to the Pokémon Center!" the woman greets you. "Could you also scan your trainer card and recall your Pineco to its Pokéball as well?"

"He doesn't have one," you answer, pulling out and handing over your trainer card. "He has not decided to join my team yet."

She blinks with surprise, then smiles.

"You're saying this is… a wild Pineco?" she asks.

You nod.

"He exploded and I thought that was very brave so I have brought him to be healed," you explain.

The nurse smiles even wider, and nods back.

"Alright then! We'll still need to put him into storage temporarily for ease of scan and transport. Is that okay?"

You frown, but you can tell the nurse isn't trying to trick you or steal the Pineco. She is being honest. So you hand over an empty Pokéball, which the nurse uses to capture him before bringing both Pokéballs to the back of the room.

Well, okay then. Now what?

"We should probably sit down while we wait," Kris says. "When you bring in wild ones or first-time-registered ones they do a bunch of detailed health checks for parasites and diseases and chronic stuff."

Oh, okay. That seems reasonable. You follow Kris over to a couch and sit down next to her, being sure to wrap your tail around your body opposite to her so she doesn't brush into it on accident and potentially ruin your illusion.

…You're pretty tempted to just curl up and take a nap, though. You have had a long day, and it has only been a few hours.

Chapter Text

You are now Dr. Flaire Parker, or as you're known while on the clock, Nurse Joy. You're still not sure why the Pokémon League requires all Pokémon Center doctors to dress the same, use the same name, and have the same weird loopy hairstyle, but you assume it's a fetish thing. Like sure, it's ostensibly a prestige and branding thing, making you recognizable as a League-approved authority on all things related to Pokémon health. You just feel as though that could probably be accomplished without a costume.

No executives have walked in to be creepy at you, though, so you can live with it.

The door to your center opens and you flip a smile onto your face, one that quickly turns into a look of surprise as a short, white-haired girl walks in holding an unconscious Pineco like a teddy bear. Her clothes are ripped and torn, but you don't see any blood anywhere. So that's good, at least.

Wordlessly, she deposits the Pineco and one Pokéball on the counter, glancing up to look at your face only for a brief moment before her eyes flick over the rest of your body and then start to just… zone out, looking at nothing in particular. With her alabaster-white skin and deep red eyes, she obviously has albinism… except humans with that condition don't have red eyes, not the way this girl does. Contacts, probably? You think colored contacts are popular among kids these days.

Whatever the reason, there's something off about this girl. You're not sure what it is, but frankly, it's not really your job to care. What is your job is to make sure this girl is following proper procedure, though.

"Welcome to the Pokémon Center!" you greet her. "Could you also scan your trainer card and recall your Pineco to its Pokéball as well?"

She immediately starts getting out her trainer card, but not a Pokéball.

"He doesn't have one," she tells you, her voice disturbingly toneless. Mechanical. Is she in shock? Unconscious Pokémon, damaged clothing… she could have just been attacked. Maybe rescued by the blue-haired girl behind her?

"He has not decided to join my team yet," the girl continues.

Oh, okay! Never mind, she doesn't seem to be in shock. She probably just talks like that. A lot of people very empathetic towards Pokémon tend to have stunted social skills with people, and if anything you consider that a good trade. There's a reason you're a Pokémon doctor rather than a people doctor, after all. You relax a little.

"You're saying this is… a wild Pineco?" you ask.

She nods.

"He exploded and I thought that was very brave so I have brought him to be healed," she explains.

Aww, okay, that's cute. You very much like seeing that sort of love for Pokémon in general, even Pokémon that aren't on a trainer's team. The scanning and energy recovery system are both keyed to Pokéballs, though, taking advantage of a Pokémon's ability to safely convert into and out of a nonphysical state to better assess its condition.

"Alright then! We'll still need to put him into storage temporarily for ease of scan and transport. Is that okay?"

Her eyes narrow dangerously at you for a moment, flicking over you again before she returns to a neutral expression and, without saying a word, hands you another Pokéball and walks away.

…What a profoundly strange child. The blue-haired girl behind her (whom you recall seeing plenty of times before, because that bitch's hair is wild ) just waves at you and follows the quiet one, so you suppose she didn't need anything. Fine by you. You catch the unconscious Pineco and carry both balls to the backroom so you can perform the wild Pokémon checks. May as well also do a detailed scan of the other Pokémon you were given while you're there. You put them into the machine, hit the button, and…

Hmm. That's not good. Multiple alerts almost immediately.

You look over the data on the Pineco personally. It blew itself up, of course, but Pineco are built for that and nothing here indicates that it caused itself any permanent damage. No outstanding diseases or parasites either. So why… wait. It's the other Pokémon. A Vulpix? No, an Alolan Vulpix. Interesting! Alola is very far away, and its regional variants are quite beautiful.

Your enthusiasm dies the moment you start looking through the readout, though. This is… horrific. Ice buildup in the airway, indicative of elemental overuse. Multiple damaged muscles and ligaments, multiple abrasions, multiple fractures. Minor concussion, although no bleeding or anything life-threatening, thank Arceus. Still. This is… extremely severe damage, and while some can certainly be accounted for as expected post-battle trauma for a Pineco explosion… most of it was almost certainly self-inflicted.

This Pokémon was either fighting for its life or being abused.

You grit your teeth. Hell, it could very well have been fighting for its life because it was being abused. A trainer should not be working their Pokémon this hard. The ice buildup in the airway is particularly serious, as it would almost certainly cause pulmonary edema if untreated and would give an in for infections that even a Pokémon's immune system couldn't wash out. You can deal with that, but not with the base recovery machine. You let the machine handle what it can before releasing the poor Vulpix, its beautiful coat torn and dirty and its breathing shallow. Positioning it in a recovery position so fluid can drain out its mouth, you set up a heat lamp to help her body melt ice where it would normally struggle to do so, being careful to manage it so it's not too hot. It's a careful balance for ice types, but not one you can't handle.

And while that's happening, you need to have a conversation with the Vulpix's trainer. You are, after all, a League representative, and you need to figure out what's going on here. Maybe you're lucky, just this once, and you're misreading the situation rather than just dealing with yet another shit trainer who thinks they can get away with whatever they want.

…You might actually be that lucky this time, though. You can hope. The girl was kind enough to bring in a wild Pokémon, and she talked about asking it to join her team… it's very possible she just doesn't understand what she's doing.

You instruct a nearby Chansey to watch the Vulpix—they have good instincts and are well-trained, so they'll know when to come get you if something goes wrong—and return to the lobby, where you find the white-haired girl curled up on the couch next to her friend. She almost looks like a cat, her eyes closed and her arms squished up underneath her. It's honestly kind of cute, and the blue-haired girl seems to be having an internal debate over whether or not to pet her friend.

"Ah, hello," you greet the two of them, sitting down in a chair across from their couch. "I was hoping I could talk to the owner of the Vulpix?"

"Vulpix?" the blue-haired girl asks questioningly. "Hey, um, Mercury? Do you have a Vulpix? Mercury?"

After saying her name a few times, the white-haired-girl, 'Mercury' apparently, opens her eyes, blinks blearily a couple times, then immediately pushes herself into an attentive sitting position, glancing rapidly around the room.

"Mercury, is it?" you press. "Hello. I have a few questions about your Vulpix."

She goes very, very still, her eyes locking on you and her body scrunching in on itself and tensing with a mix of anticipation and fear.

"I am ready to answer," she announces in that perfect monotone.

Hmm. That… feels like it has some red flags.

"Can you tell me what the two of you were doing when she got her injuries?" you ask.

"Yes. Winter was battling the Pokémon living on Route 29. I was supervising her progress."

A nickname, hmm? Most abusers don't personify their Pokémon like that, but it's hardly a sure thing.

"It seems like it would require a particularly intense battle for Winter to sustain the damage she did," you say, "I'll need to keep her overnight to make sure she's healed."

"Acknowledged," she answers simply. No movement, no facial expression. Like an Arceus-damn robot. You don't like where this is going.

"...A Pokémon should not end up that injured under normal battle conditions," you stress. "The damage dealt to her was internal, and indicative of severe stress, ability overuse, and self-inflicted strain."

"Acknowledged," the girl says. She doesn't seem surprised.

"...Mercury, that sort of damage is grounds for charging you with Pokémon abuse."

She flinches at that, and an instant later her face morphs into one of shock. It's freakishly jarring. Was she also being abused? Is there a third party here? She's not reacting normally to anything you say.

Something isn't right here, and you're going to find out what it is.

Chapter Text

You are Mercury, and this pink-haired person is very suspicious of you. She took your Pokémon to heal them and now she is mad at you because they were injured. You don't understand why there is a problem, but there's definitely a problem.

She is a figure of Authority, and though you have been answering her questions as best you can, she's still mad at you. You are getting increasingly frightened. What would happen if Blue finds out you did something wrong with Winter?

"I'm going to need you to explain how your Vulpix got her injuries, Mercury," the pink authority insists, and you don't know what to say.

Fear squirms inside you as the human stares at you with disappointment. You have to tell the truth, right? Things never go well for you when you lie. Besides, well… this is how you learned to fight. It kept you alive. How is Winter supposed to grow without learning her limits? The more you frame this as attempted obedience, the less trouble you'll be in. Don't act ashamed!

"Winter sustained her injuries over the course of an endurance test," you report, sitting up straight and making sure your illusion is looking the Authority in the eyes. "The purpose of the test was to help both Winter and myself understand her limits, to impart to Winter the importance of energy conservation and risk avoidance, and to give Winter experience with battling while exhausted. Winter achieved an impressive record of twenty-eight knockouts before being downed by a Pineco's Selfdestruct. I believe these results have exceeded expectations and would urge against punishment at this time."

Concern. Frustration. A bit of anger. Oh no, whatever you said was wrong. You shouldn't have given your opinion! Stupid, stupid, stupid. You've grown too used to Blue and Aunt Tess encouraging it.

"What punishment?" the authority presses.

"For… falling unconscious?" you answer hesitantly.

You were always punished for that. When you say the words, though, the authority's emotions get worse. Anger. Fear. No, no, no, this is going so poorly!

"Mercury, are you punishing your Pokémon for getting knocked out?"

"N-no," you admit, unable to stop your voice from stuttering. "Sh-should I be? I'm sorry."

The authority leans back in her seat, an overwhelmed expression on her face. Next to you, Kris stares at you with a mortified expression. You try to shrink out of sight, but much like your cage there isn't anywhere to hide so you just kind of scrunch up a little.

"Sorry," you repeat.

"No, that's not… Mercury, not punishing your Pokémon is a good thing," the authority insists. "Don't ever punish your Pokémon for getting knocked out, okay?"

"Okay," you squeak. If you did that right, why is she still so unhappy!?

"That said, while it is okay for your Pokémon to get knocked out, it's not okay to purposefully overwork them until they get knocked out," the authority explains. "That kind of thing can be very dangerous, and you don't want to put your Pokémon's health in danger."

That… that doesn't make sense, though. You tremble, working up the last of your courage.

"...May I ask a question?" you manage.

The authority gets increasingly concerned and angry, which is terrifying, but when she speaks you don't feel like the anger is directed at you.

"Yes, Mercury," she says. "You may ask as many questions as you like."

"Isn't it dangerous not to work them past their limits?" you ask. "It might hurt them to push them to become stronger. But they will definitely get hurt if they aren't strong enough. A battle doesn't risk the death of the winner."

The authority smiles at you, though it's profoundly sad.

"A proper Pokémon battle shouldn't risk the death of anything," she insists. "But you're right in that things never go perfectly, especially out in the wild. But that's your job as a trainer: you must plan ahead, know your situation, and ensure that your team never gets into more trouble than they can handle in the first place. It is your Pokémon's job to protect you, Mercury, but it is also your job to protect them. And part of that means not letting ice build up in your Vulpix's lungs."

You protect them, they protect you. But how can they protect you if they're so much weaker than you? …No, wait, that's not the point. You protect them because they're weaker than you. They are your responsibility to nurture and grow. You keep them safe and make them strong. That's what a trainer is. That's what makes them Worthy.

…But do you want to be Worthy, or do you just want to follow someone Worthy? You suppose it doesn't matter. This is your task.

"I understand," you tell the authority.

She stares at you for a moment and then gives you a decisive nod before turning to Kris.

"You two are friends?" she guesses.

"O-oh, um… I mean, we just met!" Kris quickly corrects, also understandably scared of the Authority.

"Could I see your Pokémon and trainer card as well?" the authority asks anyway.

"O-of course…" Kris stammers, handing a Pokéball and her card over, as instructed.

They are confiscated and the authority departs, leaving both you and Kris feeling worried and miserable. You wait in silence for nearly twenty minutes, and you don't manage to relax at all before she comes back and hands Kris her things.

"Sorry about that," she apologizes to Kris. "Your record is spotless and your Pokémon seems happy and in excellent condition. I just like to check up on things in situations like this."

"Of course," Kris nods.

"Now Mercury, your trainer card's been issued a while but I'm going to guess by the lack of activity on it that you've only just started your journey today?"

"Affirmative," you answer.

"Right. Okay. I'm going to chalk this up to a one-time thing, then. I made a note in your record but there's no formal infraction. That said, I highly, highly recommend you head to Violet City and attend the Pokémon Trainer's School for a while. And if Kris is heading that direction, it might be best if you travel with her and get some tips from a more experienced trainer. As long as she's okay with that, of course. I can't order either of you to do anything, but that's my recommendation."

You hesitate, glancing over at Kris. She also seems hesitant, and certainly a lot less excited at the prospect of traveling with you than she was before. She doesn't answer, though, leaving the decision to you. But you don't know! Your original plan was to just swim across Cherrygrove Bay, since that seems like a more direct route to Goldenrod. This Trainer stuff was supposed to just be a means to an end, not a major focus of your journey, but now you're suddenly feeling terrible at being so bad at it…

"...Is escorting me acceptable to you?" you ask Kris hesitantly.

She stares at you, glances briefly at the Authority, then back to you again.

"O-of course!" she lies.

You hesitate. In your experience, humans always want you to pretend they're telling the truth when they lie, and listen to their words rather than their meaning. You got worse and worse at that over time, until things got painful enough that you had to re-develop the skill. You're pretty good at listening to words again, now.

Perhaps you should give her another out, though. You're not sure you want to travel with a human you barely know. If you do that you'll feel obligated to keep your illusion up the whole time.

"...I can just swim across the bay if you don't want to," you tell her. "I'm just looking for the best route to Goldenrod."

Kris gapes at you.

"S-swim across the bay?" she yelps incredulously. "You can't do that! You'll drown!"

Really? That doesn't seem right. It looks really small on the map. You guess the route you just walked down also looked small, though, and it took way longer to travel than you expected. Basically a whole day! But, well. She's telling the truth…

"...Are you sure?" you ask hesitantly.

"Oh gosh, Mercury, please come with me, okay?" Kris begs, a lot more sincerely this time. Hmm. Well, that makes the decision easy.

"Okay," you say.

The Authority looks between the two of you and sighs, nodding to herself. Her emotions are complex and abnormally difficult to parse. Relief, regret, confusion, hope, worry, anger, fear… there's a lot going on. She's not mad at you anymore, though, and that's what matters.

"Sorry about this," she says quietly to Kris. "Thank you for stepping up."

"Hey, no problem!" Kris says cheerfully, only some of her mirth faked. "I mean, I'm not the most experienced trainer out there, but I'm sure I can at least get her to the next town over. Keep an eye on her and stuff. I'm sure we'll be the best of pals by the time we get to Violet City, right Mercury?"

You don't answer, because as she says those words her arm lifts up and starts moving around towards the back of your neck. You leap off the couch, flashing forwards a few feet before digging your claws into the ground and taking a ninety-degree turn behind and around the Authority, separating yourself from her and the aggressor to ensure a clean line of fire. Your eyes widen, locking in on Kris as you gather psychic energy to… to… wait.

…Kris is not a target. Her posture isn't even remotely aggressive. That gesture was a one-armed, over-the-shoulder hug, not an attack. You hesitantly stand up, picking your hand up off the ground from where you had been crouching low to leap again if necessary, wilting under the shocked and worried expressions from Kris and the Authority. You take a moment to calm your rapid breathing, and then bow your head.

"Apologies."

You realize, then, that your illusions don't do tactile sensations other than pain very well, so it likely would have lead to a very problematic conversation if Kris had succeeded at hugging you, so you hesitantly add:

"...Please do not touch me."

Maybe someday you won't need this illusion anymore, but you know better than to assume that day is today. Your necklace protects you from capture by any legal Pokéball, but the fewer people who know about you, the fewer illegal Pokéballs are going to be coming your way.

"Oh gosh, uh, I'm so sorry, Mercury," Kris gapes, seeming extremely horrified and contrite for reasons you can't quite parse. "I won't. Okay? I promise."

"It is okay," you reassure her, not wanting to reinforce her disproportionate reaction. It really is okay, your misfiring self-defense instincts aside. If you weren't trying to avoid her asking why you're fuzzier than you look, you wouldn't mind at all. You like physical contact with people, at least as long as it isn't making your messy DNA try to kill you. Or as long as you aren't chained down.

"Mercury," the authority says softly, "would you like to be in the room with Winter while she recovers?"

You perk up a bit at that, one ear twitching underneath your illusion. You do need to make sure that the Pokémon Blue entrusted you with is okay.

"Affirmative," you reply, and she nods. leading you towards the back rooms of the Pokémon Center, eventually ushering you into a small room where Winter sleeps under some sort of heat lamp. You quickly head to the corner of the room, squatting with your back to the wall where you can keep both the door and Winter in view. The authority gives you a long, concerned look, and then departs.

Hours later, she comes by again to encourage you to head to one of the upstairs rooms to sleep. You decline twice before her assurances that Winter's room is safe and monitored convince you to acquiesce.

In the morning, you get up and head downstairs immediately, and you are pleasantly surprised to find the Authority up before you, ready to hand over your Pokéballs. You accept them gratefully, and immediately release Winter, who emerges with a yawn.

"Geez, what happened?" she mutters, shaking her body out. "I feel like I just got blown up."

"You did," you inform her succinctly, squatting down. "A Pineco knocked you out. Your health was in poor condition. I apologize."

"A what?" she asks. "Ugh, you're so hard to understand through that illusion."

"I apologize," you repeat. "I have been instructed on how to train you better. I will not allow you to be harmed in that way again."

"...Uh, that just makes me nervous."

"I apologize."

"Uh, look, it's fine. I just hope you didn't kill whoever finally got me."

"Actually, I was going to ask him to join our team."

"Wait, really?" Winter asks.

"Don't release a wild Pineco in the building," the authority commands. "Go outside."

"Affirmative."

You exit the building, but stay pretty close so you don't get lost or miss Kris, who is presumably still sleeping in the Pokémon center.

You release the Pineco from his Pokéball, and he immediately panics, finding himself in an unknown location and flanked by two other Pokémon. He does not hesitate to gather all his energy and prepare to explode.

Marvelous.

"Mercury!" someone shouts in panic from inside the Pokémon Center, but you ignore them, a grin splitting your face as you descend on the Pineco clamping a hand on top of his shell and drinking his terror. You send it right back at him, the threat of ghostly malice invisibly suffusing the air around him.

"Don't," you threaten, knowing he can't fail to understand the sincerity of the danger he is in. He stops instantly.

Marvelous!

"Good boy," you praise him, lifting him up in your arms. "You are quick and sharp. I am a trainer. Would you like to get stronger with me?"

"Mercury!" Kris repeats, panting as she runs out of the Pokémon center towards you. "Holy crap, I thought you were gonna die! What are you thinking, releasing a wild Pineco that close?"

You glance down at the brave little boy in your arms. Then you glance down the sidewalk, where Winter has leapt out of range. Good.

"Do not worry, Kris," you promise the human. "Winter learns fast. And this one cannot hurt me."

She gapes at you as the Pineco finishes considering your offer.

"You will help me evolve?" he asks.

"Yes," you answer, lifting him up and rotating him to face you. "I will help you evolve."

"I submit to your strength," he says. Wonderful.

"Then you are mine," you tell him, and that is that. "Winter will be your teammate. Would you like a name?"

"I am indifferent."

"You gotta give him a name, boss!" Winter insists. "That's the whole fun part of having a human! Well. I mean, I guess you're not a human, but it still counts."

"Okay," you say. "You are Indifferent."

"What does that mean?" Winter asks.

"It means indifferent," you emote quietly, "because that's what he said he was."

"No, boss… that's not how it's supposed to work. Please pick a different name. Like how you picked my name! My name is cool!"

You frown, trying to think a little harder. Like Winter's name, huh? You suppose that any Pokémon who are yours should have been equally imposing names. So what is equal to Winter? Another season seems obvious, but which one? Wait, of course!

"In that case," you tell your new teammate, "your name, now and forever more, is Fall. It is the season before winter, the time when plants start to die and leaves start to wither. Your name heralds the coming of death and the bravery to destroy that which must be destroyed. Also, you fell down and that is how I met you. Therefore your name has two meanings, and I think that is clever."

There's a brief moment of silence, broken only by an amused snort escaping from Kris's mouth. Clearly, she also thinks the name is very clever. …And she also seems to be amused about some other stuff, but it's probably not very important.

"I accept this name," Fall declares. You smile. This is wonderful. You are getting into this 'being a trainer' thing a lot more than you thought you would. You continue holding Fall up against your body, since you are pretty sure he will need your help to move around very much in the first place.

"You really like talking to your Pokémon, huh?" Kris prods coyly, walking up next to you with a smirk on her face. "You're weird, and you're like, mega super reckless, but you're not a bad person, are you?"

You blink, not entirely sure how to answer that. You aren't really sure if you are a person in the first place? People keep insisting you are, though, and you suppose they would know. And whether you're a person or not, you don't want to be bad. You get punished when you're bad.

"I will be good," you promise. Kris gives you a funny look, like she's not sure if she likes that answer, but she shrugs and starts walking down the street, motioning for you to follow.

"So, Fall, huh?" Winter prods, trotting next to you as you hurry after Kris. "Welcome to the team! You have any idea what you're getting into?"

"A safety net," the Pineco rumbles back. "If it is my purpose to fall, it is always preferable to have people to catch you."

"Training you will be interesting," you realize. "You are not fast like Winter and I. You cannot move much at all. This will make you very bad at avoiding damage."

"This is why we assemble armor," Fall reminds you.

You know that, it's just difficult for you to think about. You have been training Winter by having Winter fight like you do. Since you aren't actually a human, you don't know if you would be very good at thinking up strategies or understanding ways to fight other than your own. You should at least try, though.

Fighting without moving… you hate doing that. It's the worst. You only stop moving when your legs are injured, because refusing to dodge just multiplies whatever damage you've already taken. ...But wait, that's it! Fighting without moving is the same as fighting with your legs injured, because when your legs are injured you can't move very well. You hate doing it, but you still have a lot of experience with it. You can draw on that to help Fall!

"Do you have the ability to attack from range?" you ask.

"Yes," Fall says. "Explosive needles."

Hmm. That sounds somewhat familiar. You hold Fall out and away from your body and aim his face downwards.

"Shoot the ground once," you order.

"Mercury, wait—" Kris starts to protest, but Fall is already firing. A light green glowing needle manifests somewhere within the armor of bark and fires downwards, making a small, hand-sized explosion on impact.

You nod, recognizing the maneuver. It is a weak Bug energy technique, but it fires very quickly. You hold Fall under one arm and pull out your Pokédex, finding the human name for it. 'Pin Missile.' This will do.

"Gosh, Mercury, please don't damage the sidewalk like that…" Kris says hesitantly.

You stiffen, glancing at her in terror. You did something wrong already!? She stares back at you, looking like she expects a response. What do you say? What do you say!?

"I will not damage the sidewalk," you promise.

"Um, okay, that's good," Kris nods. "It's okay, Mercury. I'm not mad or anything?"

You relax slightly. She's right. She's not mad. Everything is probably okay. That was very stupid of you! You know humans don't like having their stuff damaged, and this is a city! Everything is human stuff, even the ground.

"I will do better," you promise.

"…Thank you?" Kris manages. She is concerned and confused but you do not know how to help so you just nod and go back to hugging Fall. Only after you silently follow Kris out of the city's north exit do you resume your conversation with your team.

"When you are unable to dodge an attack, it may be possible to intercept an attack. This is more difficult, but for you, Fall, it may be your only option. When ranged attacks come your way, you must learn to use your own attacks to overwhelm and prevent them. And against faster opponents who want to approach you, it is often best to overwhelm and prevent them from doing so in exactly the same manner. Training your ability to endure hits will be equally important, however, because these strategies are simply not as reliable as moving your own body quickly."

"What, then, would you have me do to gain these skills?" Fall asks.

"Ah-ha! Trainers! I challenge you to a battle! Go, Rattata!"

An enemy! Your eyes lock onto the telltale glow of a Pokémon releasing from its ball, and since your hands are full, you rush forward to intercept physically. The moment the purple rodent emerges, you already have a kick swinging towards its face. These things are weak, but you refuse to underestimate them. Even weaklings are extremely dangerous in large numbers, and that's almost always how you saw these rats coming after you. Your kick connects, sending the enemy careening into a tree, but you keep your head on a swivel, already looking out for more potential ambushes.

"Ack! Rattata!" the small human who attacked you yelps. You don't see any more pokeballs on his person though, so you ignore him.

"Mercury, what the heck was that!?" Kris then demands, running over to you, and that finally gets your attention. Oh. Oh! Right! That is not how trainers are supposed to fight! Oh no...

"S-sorry," you stutter. "I just acted on instinct."

"You have an instinct to kick Pokémon!?" Kris says, panicking slightly. "That's not safe at all! There are Weedle around here! You could be poisoned!"

You scowl, wrinkling your nose.

"…I would not have kicked it if it was poisonous," you insist, feeling strangely offended.

"W-well kicking other trainer's Pokémon is still a really terrible idea! I know it doesn't hurt them that much, but—"

"Rattata? Hey, Rattata!" the young trainer calls. "Oh gosh, did you get knocked out, buddy?"

Kris gapes. You sweat nervously. Right… most humans can't hurt Pokémon very well without weapons or tools. Some can, though! Surely your cover is not blown already.

"...I guess you're a martial artist?" Kris hedges. "I've heard of humans that could channel Fighting energy, but apparently it's really hard. Where did you learn something like that?"

Technically you were channeling Normal energy just there, but you shrug and decline to either answer the question or correct the misconception.

"Knowing how to fight is useful," is all you say. "I am sorry for attacking when I shouldn't have."

"There you go, all better," the smaller human says, feeding his Pokémon revival medicine to rapidly repair its barrier.

"You're really strong, Miss!" he says, looking up at you with a grin. He is an interesting child, with a blue baseball cap and a yellow shirt. His shorts, though…

"Are your Pokémon as strong as you, though?" he asks. "I want a proper rematch!"

"You are wearing very tiny shorts," you inform the child.

"I like shorts!" he declares. "They're comfy and easy to wear!"

You nod, agreeing wholeheartedly. It can be a little frustrating getting your tail through the tail hole, but otherwise you find shorts to be your preferred article of clothing. You are pretty sure that shorts as small as the ones he is wearing are supposed to be for girls, but he seems quite enthusiastic about them so perhaps you are just wrong. They do look like very nice shorts.

"You have good taste and so I will be happy to knock your Rattata out a second time, for recreational reasons. Fall, you will practice. What we talked about. No blowing yourself up."

You lob Fall onto the field in front of you, then think for a moment.

"Actually," you tell him, "don't attack at all."

"What!?" Kris yelps, gaping at you.

There is a technique you know that isn't very helpful to you most of the time, but you're pretty sure Fall could make good use of it. With an intense concentration of Normal energy, it's possible to make a solid barrier that disperses and converts enemy attacks in such a way that nearly nothing can pierce it. The problem is that it takes so much energy to manipulate, it's impossible to attack while defending this way, and using it for more than a split second is liable to backfire. You prefer to dodge attacks so that you can keep up an offensive, but since Fall cannot dodge, there are some large attacks that you know he will have to block instead.

…Communicating how to learn this technique, however, will probably be hard.

"Heh, if you're not going to attack, that'll make it easy on us! Rattata, use tackle!"

Despite its recent unconsciousness, the Rattata does exactly that, striking Fall with impressive force. Well, it's at least slightly stronger than the wild Pokémon around here, you'll give it that. Fall grunts, enduring the hit fairly well but otherwise not reacting.

"Um, Mercury, I'm pretty sure ordering your Pokémon to do nothing but get hurt is also abuse."

"I didn't say 'do nothing,'" you frown. "I said 'don't attack.' Very different. Fall, gather your energy. But do not unleash it. Hold it. You use your power to strike and your body to defend, but you must use your power for both. Let your energy be yet another layer of armor. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Fall grunts, and uses a flawless Protect to deflect the Rattata's next tackle. Oh! Well! What a good job!

"I am glad my explanation was so excellent," you nod. "I am very proud of it."

It was a very humanlike explanation, you think, with lots of words.

"It did not help at all," Fall informs you. "I already knew how to do that."

Oh. You pout a little. In that case…

"Stop using it as armor and start using it as vengeance," you tell him.

"What?"

Ugh! Words are so hard!

"I will teach you later. Just k—erm, I mean, just knock it out now."

"...You're supposed to specify an attack for him to use, Mercury," Kris reminds you.

You are!? Oh, shoot, you are. Do humans think Pokémon don't know how to attack? Well, you suppose a stronger Pokémon than Fall would have a lot of different attacks to choose from, but still.

"Um. Do the… shooty explody Bug. The, um." How do humans say it again!? "Use Pin Missile!"

A barrage of explosive needles rockets towards the Rattata, which manages to weather them and tackle Fall again, to minimal effect. He is sturdy, you'll give him that.

"Nice job, Mercury!" Kris cheers. Wait, why is she cheering for you? Fall is the one fighting. "Just keep giving him orders!"

Uh, really? Is that necessary? Well, you were told to, so…

"It is really pathetic and it only seems to know how to tackle you so just keep shooting it over and over again until it falls unconscious," you order blandly.

"Hey!" the Rattata protests. "I'm doing my best!"

"…Mercury, you don't have to be mean," Kris says quietly.

Okay, this is starting to get pretty stressful. What do these people want from you!? You glance hesitantly at Kris. Even though she doesn't seem aggressive or angry at all, you really don't like getting the things she asks you to do wrong. It feels like she should be angry at you, so the fact that she isn't is kind of weird and scary. This is the worst kind of situation, where you know you're doing everything wrong but you don't know why it's wrong you don't know how to do it right and so that means you're going to keep doing it wrong and things are only going to get worse and people are just going to get more angry at you and eventually will start punishing you and… well, you really just need to figure out what's going on and how to do things right. Otherwise it will be bad.

You inevitably defeat the human boy, who does not seem to be the least bit dispirited by this and instead enthusiastically asks for your phone number. You tell him okay because that's clearly what you're supposed to do, but Kris seems really surprised for some reason. She seems to start understanding a little better when you need the boy's help to actually figure out how to give him your phone number in the first place, though you're not sure why that elucidates matters.

He he he. 'Elucidates.' What a human word.

The boy, who is apparently named Joey, finishes exchanging contact information and then runs off to the Pokémon center, leaving you and Kris to travel in relative peace. Kris and her Pokémon, Tutu, are not very strong but they are certainly a little stronger than Winter or Fall. They make quick work of any Pokémon on the route that they deign to battle, and when Kris accepts the challenge from another trainer you make sure to watch her very carefully so you can copy how she fights as a human.

Apparently, being a trainer in combat involves a lot of standing still and just shouting out the names of moves. You remember that this happened a little back when people sent Pokémon for you to fight, but it wasn't very common and you often weren't supposed to kill your enemies in battles where trainers directed them.

You couldn't even see the trainers giving the commands in the first place, though, so you're still surprised to learn that they just stand still. You assumed that they would do a lot more, like Blue did when he rescued you. While his Pokémon fought, he fought alongside them, often attacking the enemy trainer personally. Perhaps that was a different situation, though, since he was fighting an evil criminal enterprise rather than participating in a recreational sport.

You wrinkle your nose a little. Recreational sport, huh? You're not sure if you can ever think of battling that way. You know that most humans do, because you knew that from before you got taken to that place and turned into what you are now. There's just something wrong and uncomfortable about the idea of fighting for fun, and that fact is doubly weird to you because fighting sometimes is fun.

You don't like to get hurt, sure, but when you obey all your orders and crush all your enemies, the day always goes better. And when you're in the thick of it, winning that battle and proving your strength? That's the only time you ever feel in control of anything.

Still. A sport? That's just weird. Why do the humans like it so much, anyway? They hardly even do anything. You suppose they probably just like giving orders to people. That always seems true in your experience.

Travel is slow, and it seems like it's a good thing you started this journey in the morning, because the first time you see Violet City is after the sun sets and the light of the city becomes one of the main things guiding your way. Kris seems to get pretty nervous after dark and nearly bumps into a few dangerous things, but you can see just fine so you make sure to grab her hand and lead her the rest of the way. It's a little difficult making your illusion spoof tactile sensations so she doesn't notice your hand is fuzzy, but you manage.

"…Mercury, your hand is, um, really cold."

Well. There's nothing you can do about that. Your illusions are always cold, that's not something you can change. They're literally made of negative emotions given form by Ghost energy. If you were doing more than just holding her hand, it would probably start sapping her life force as well as her heat.

Maybe after you get to Goldenrod and don't have to pretend to be a trainer anymore you can touch her without freezing her quite as much. …Actually, wait, are you still supposed to be a trainer once you finish traveling and get Bill's help with… whatever Blue wanted you to see Bill for? You don't actually know. He mentioned some stuff about a storage system but you didn't really get it. Does he mean the PC? The PC is really bad. Hrm.

Well, you can figure that out when you get there. Violet City is a beautiful place, even at night, nestled in the trees like a cozy hideaway. It's somehow both smaller yet more lively than Cherrygrove, like it is growing rather than slowly dying off. Yet despite its status as a city, the only building you see with more than two stories is a vast tower sitting alone on the other side of a pristine lake. Despite its height, the tower still seems to be made primarily of wood, and it sways precariously in the light breeze. There's something beautifully hypnotic about it, and it calls to you.

"...Let's turn in for the night, Mercury," Kris says, squinting off into the darkness in the direction you're staring. "The Pokémon center is right there, we can just check in, get some rest, get everybody healed. I'll show you the trainer school tomorrow, okay?"

Oh, right. Well, perhaps you'll check out the interesting tower later. You follow Kris into the Pokémon Center, and she shows you how to use your trainer card to check into a communal room. A communal room! That's not good, you can't exactly maintain your illusion while you sleep. Kris signs you up for one before you can protest, however, and quickly herds you into a room with eight different beds, four on the ground and four perched on top of the others.

Well, that might work. You quickly scamper to a top bunk, lifting Fall up so he can attach himself to the ceiling, and then snuggle deep within the covers, obscuring your entire body. Now someone will have to climb the ladder and rip the covers off of you while you're asleep to find you exposed, and if anybody tries that you'll probably just attack them on instinct.

…Hmm. Well. It's just the two of you in the room for now, so…

"Kris?" you ask.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't touch me or get close to me while I sleep. Just wake me up with sounds. I am not a heavy sleeper."

"Sure?" she shrugs. "But if you're not a heavy sleeper, I regret to inform you that you probably won't be getting very good sleep at all. You have to pay for a private room to avoid people making noise all the time."

Wait, that was an option!? Well, whatever. It will be fine, at least tonight. Getting poor sleep isn't really a big deal. You always get poor sleep anyway. Winter curls up at your feet as you settle in for the night.

"Well, good night, Mercury!" Kris says, sliding into the bed beneath you.

"But you just told me it wouldn't be," you frown.

She laughs at that for some reason, leaving you confused like usual, but the two of you fall asleep soon after. You are, indeed, woken up frequently and fitfully as other female trainers enter and exit the rooms at night, making all sorts of noises. You are probably not unconscious for more than a few hours total, but that's okay. Humans have to sleep a lot more than you do anyway, since a significant portion of your body isn't even alive. You're wide awake long before anybody has a chance of exposing how fluffy you are, and your illusion is up by the time Kris starts getting out of bed.

You collect Fall from the ceiling and then leap down to the floor, causing Kris to let out a startled yelp as you land right in front of her. Winter follows you shortly after, yawning widely. She got about as much sleep as you did, but you're pretty sure she actually needs it. Perhaps you will sleep outside next time. …No, wait, the outdoors isn't exactly less busy at night than this room. Hmm. Yes, you definitely want a private room in that case. Assuming it's not too expensive.

"Arceus, Mercury!" Kris swears. "Careful, you might hurt yourself!"

You blink at her. What the heck is she talking about? No you won't. You're immune to gunshots if you're properly prepared, what the heck is six feet of gravity supposed to do to you?

"Look, whatever. I think there's only one shower open," Kris mutters in the face of your stare. "You want to go first or second?"

"I am not going to shower," you declare. You hate showering. Water is gross and heavy and it takes ages to get your fur dry and your illusion is not going to be very convincing if you're dripping puddles of water everywhere for the next few hours.

"Um, well that's kind of gross, but whatever," Kris shrugs. "I'm not your mom."

Man, she is saying really weird things today. Of course she's not your mom, she's way too young and also your mom is dead. Plus, you can feel that the intent behind her words is to communicate that she has no authority over you, but that's not true so maybe you're reading her wrong? The Authority explicitly tasked her with serving as your temporary leader. 

Well, whatever. Kris doesn't take very long in the shower and shortly afterwards you eat a quick breakfast and then set out into the city. Kris takes you to the trainer school, which does apparently have a few open lectures today, though you're not sure you are the slightest bit interested in them. You'd much rather check out that tower on the north end of town.

"And that's pretty much all I was asked to do, so I'm gonna head to the Gym and schedule a battle with Falkner. See ya, Mercury!"

…And you suppose you're also somewhat interested in these gyms, so following Kris might not be a bad idea. It's not like you can't come back to the school later. If you want to. Which you probably won't.

Maybe you'll just keep following Kris, for now.

Chapter Text

You know that you're supposed to go to school, at least according to that minor Authority. But… gosh, you really hate school. You went to online school for a little while and it was awful. And technically, you are here in front of the school, and that means you did, in fact, go to school. So you can probably leave now. Yes, that makes sense.

Kris starts to walk off, and you start to follow her. She stops and looks at you. You stare back.

"…Are you not going to go to school?" she asks.

"I just did," you declare confidently.

"That is not what 'go to school' means," Kris sighs. Darn. "Look, you should at least attend the basic safety course. That's probably what Nurse Joy wanted you to do. It's free, you just have to sign up."

You hesitate.

"... Let's sign you up," Kris insists, and so you obey her. She leads you inside and you figure out when the next safety course is running, which is apparently just a little under two hours from now.

"That's more than enough time to make it to the gym and back, at least," Kris sighs.

"I will also sign up at the gym," you declare.

Kris gives you a hesitant look, then thinks about it for a moment then nods.

"That's actually not a bad idea," she admits. "It will give you some opportunities to see official League battles, and you can't really get up to too much trouble with the gym leader overseeing things. Plus, it will help you learn the areas you still need to work on! Yeah, okay. Follow me then?"

You nod, relieved. You're strangely hesitant to leave Kris. It just makes things easier when there is someone directing you, even though you know that your real goal is to go to Goldenrod and you can handle that yourself. Still, it's nice to just be able to follow her, watching her walk in front of you and lead the way.

The gym is easily the second tallest building after the strange tower, although the reception area when you walk in is rather modest. The bored-looking woman behind the counter perks up a bit when we walk inside, and happily greets us.

"Welcome to the Violet City gym!"

"Hello!" Kris waves back. "We'd both like to schedule a gym battle?"

"Certainly! May I see your trainer cards?"

Kris hands hers over so I copy her and give the receptionist mine as well.

"Ooh, looks like this is the first badge for both of you!" she says. "Do you need an overview about the rules for official league matches?"

"No, I…" Kris starts, but then she turns to look at you. "...Actually, yes! That would be helpful!"

"No problem!" the woman says, and she hits a button on her desk which turns on a television monitor off to the side, which shows what looks like a flat, open field with a bunch of shapes drawn on it.

There's a big rectangle with a line cutting it in half shortways. Two concentric circles are also in the middle of the rectangle, cut in half by the same line. On each far end of the rectangle, a much smaller rectangle is attached to the big one.

"So!" the woman explains, pointing at the big rectangle. "This is the battle arena. The line in the middle divides it in half. The most important thing about the line is that you can only release Pokémon from Pokéballs on your side of the field. These—" she points to the smaller rectangles on either end "—are the trainer boxes. This is where you stand through the duration of the battle. You may not attack or target anything inside the trainer box, including the opponent's Pokémon, but especially the trainer themselves. If any of your team's attacks land inside the opponent's trainer box, you immediately lose the match."

You nod. That makes sense so far.

"What happens if a trainer exits the trainer box?" you ask.

"Don't do that," the receptionist says.

You frown. But what if you have to fight?

"What happens if a trainer exits the trainer box?" you repeat, since you're pretty sure she understood your question just fine, she just didn't answer it.

"...Technically, a trainer that isn't in the trainer box is fair game, and if you injure a trainer enough to prevent them from battling, that is a de facto victory. So if you step outside the trainer box, unscrupulous opponents may choose to simply attack you. Make sure that you do all of your item work from within the box."

"Wait, this is the first I've heard of this," Kris says, surprised. "What if someone gets really hurt? Couldn't somebody die?"

"Yes, that's why you don't step out of the trainer box," the receptionist sighs. "Of course, if somebody died the perpetrator would still be charged with manslaughter, and there have been cases where people are sued for using excessive force against another trainer. So don't attack people, and don't give people the opportunity to attack you. It's a mess for everyone."

"Why is it even in the rules, then?" Kris asks.

"That's a question you have to ask someone else, I don't make these rules. People have used the rule to run out onto the battlefield and use items on your Pokémon while they are fighting, but I expect neither of you to be getting any bright ideas and taking any risks on your first badge, okay? Just recall the Pokémon to the trainer box with you. Which brings us to our next point: switching active battlers."

She taps the field again.

"As mentioned, you may only release Pokémon on your side of the field. But the exact order of switching and how you do it is very important. You must first release the swap-in teammate onto the field, then recall the previously active Pokémon. Except in the event of a knockout, there must always be at least one Pokémon on your side of the field, or you lose the match. However, while there is more than one Pokémon on your side of the field, none of your Pokémon may attack or use other moves. Does that make sense?"

"I… think so," Kris says. "That seems kind of complicated, though."

"Well, imagine what would happen if you were allowed to not have any Pokémon on the field," the receptionist smiles. "Everybody would just dodge powerful attacks by recalling their teammate and presenting no target. Which, to be fair, is a very useful technique out in the wild… but in the wild there's no trainer box to protect you. Our battles here can't be perfect simulations of what real fights are like, but we do our best to balance fairness and safety."

"I see," Kris nods. "So if you want to switch Pokémon, you have to present a free target to your opponent first, at least for as long as it takes you to get back to only one Pokémon on the field."

"Exactly," the receptionist nods. "It's a calculated risk you have to take. These battles are one-on-one, so naturally if you attack while more than one Pokémon is on the field you'll be disqualified, but switching is a very important part of strategy so we need to maintain the ability to do so. In the event that a member of your team is knocked out, however, the match pauses and resets to a neutral state. The neutral state is simply both trainers and trainer boxes, both active Pokémon on the respective sides of the field, and no techniques active. Battles begin in the neutral state, where the referee will countdown to start the fight."

Your head is spinning a bit. This is a lot to take in at once, but you think you have the general gist. You'll have to remember that your other Pokémon can't attack while you are on the field, though, since you're kind of a Pokémon. It would not be good to cheat.

"Okay! That's great to know," Kris nods. "You can't have zero Pokémon on the field, and you can't attack if you have more than one on the field. Is there anything else?"

"Mostly just common sense stuff, like 'don't keep attacking an opponent that has already been knocked out.'"

Kris gives you a hesitant look.

"...If you could maybe explain all the common sense stuff, I think that would help? If that's okay?"

The receptionist happily agrees, and you spend a while soaking in the rest of the rules and doing your utmost to commit them to memory. It's difficult, but outside of the complicated rules for switching you don't see anything that seems like you're liable to forget it in a way that will pose a major penalty. Kris thanks the receptionist on your behalf, and the two of you sign up to challenge the gym tomorrow morning.

…Unfortunately, this means it's time to go to school. Your tail twitches side to side underneath your illusion as dread fills you. There's just something about the idea of walking into a big room full of humans who want to tell you how Pokémon work that makes you uncomfortable. But… you're supposed to. The Authority and Kris both said so. So… you'll do it.

You nervously wander into the classroom, where Kris bids you goodbye. She says that she will see you again tomorrow at the gym, or perhaps tonight if the two of you end up in the same room again. Then she leaves. Well! No backing out now, you suppose. You sit down in a hard, uncomfortable chair and do your best not to pinch your tail too much as you pretend to sit like a human. Lots of people are filing and around you, most of them younger than you, but you suppose even very small humans know more about this kind of stuff than you do. Before you know it, class starts.

"Welcome, everyone, to Basic Pokémon Safety. We're going to be discussing pretty much exactly what it says on the pamphlet: why Pokémon are dangerous and what we can do to best protect ourselves from that danger. So let's start by answering that question: why are Pokémon dangerous? Anyone?"

Uh. This seems… rather self-explanatory, but you don't really want to answer. Someone else does it for you soon enough.

"Um… because they can blow up buildings and stuff?" a boy asks hesitantly.

"Well, it's certainly true that very powerful Pokémon are capable of causing large, wide-scale damage. I'm sure some of you remember about five years ago when a Tyranitar came down from the mountains and a lot of people lost their homes. But everyone knows those specific Pokémon are dangerous. Everyone knows to be afraid of Gyarados after the destruction of Cherrygrove Bay. Everyone knows to be wary around Beedrill nests. And everyone knows to steer clear of the swarms on Route 36. But what we're going to talk about today goes beyond that. What people often don't put into words is why you need to be cautious of even the weakest Pokémon. The thing that makes every Pokémon dangerous is not their power, but their durability."

He projects a large grid onto the backboard of the room.

"These are the eighteen known elemental energies: fire, water, grass, electric, ice, fighting, poison, ground, flying, psychic, bug, ghost, dark, dragon, steel, fairy, and what we commonly call 'normal' energy, although many prefer the term 'colorless' as, if anything, it is the most abnormal out of all of them. Each of these elements act as a fundamental force to our universe, and each Pokémon is comprised of these elements in a way that we humans are not."

He releases a Caterpie onto his desk and then, to your surprise, grabs a handheld hammer and smashes it down on top of the Caterpie's body. A smack rings out through the classroom, but while the Caterpie lets out a squeak, it is more surprised than injured. Which, well, of course it is.

"Because their body's connection to the elements, attacks that don't incorporate their energies have very little effect on them. Even some of our deadliest weapons do extremely little to Pokémon. This is why the absolute number one rule of Pokémon safety is 'do not fight a Pokémon without a Pokémon.' Unless you have extremely specialized, expensive equipment it simply isn't going to work. A Caterpie like this isn't going to be able to hurt you very much, but even something as small as a Rattata absolutely can."

He recalls the Caterpie to a Pokéball, leaving you feeling mildly on edge. You know it didn't cause damage, but was that demonstration really necessary…?

"So," the instructor continues, " Why aren't they damaged? A Pokémon's body is a physical thing, after all, and it's certainly not impossible to hurt them with conventional force. The basic answer to this is something we call the barrier: sort of an external coating of the Pokémon's two primary elements, also known as their 'type.' It's invisible to the naked eye and doesn't extend past the Pokémon's epidermis, but the barrier absorbs and disperses nearly all forms of harm. It's only disrupted by strikes that also imbue these elements, which you of course know as a Pokémon's attacks. Even a simple tackle, when used in battle, is technically the Pokémon coating themselves in colorless energy and shoving it into the opponent on contact. When the barrier receives too much damage from opposing energies, it breaks, and this shattering knocks the Pokémon unconscious. This is why Pokémon battles are safe as long as you don't attack your opponent after they have already been knocked out: over the course of the battle, the Pokémon's actual body and internal organs are almost entirely unharmed until after their barrier drops."

Someone raises their hand and the instructor points to them, prompting them to ask a question.

"Can't some humans channel these energies too? Like psychics?"

"Sure, yeah," the instructor nods. "Some humans know how to channel colorless energy, some martial artists can display incredible feats of strength using fighting energy, and some people are absolutely born with psychic abilities. But humans aren't built for it like Pokémon are. Even the strongest of us don't develop anything like a defensive barrier that automatically protects us from harm. Unlike Pokémon, our bodies are substance first and element second. This is why we can't shrink down into Pokéballs, for example. And also unlike Pokémon, most elements are extremely deadly to have inside our bodies. People have learned how to channel things like fire, ghost, electric, or poison energy, but it pretty much just kills you. It's not something you can really stumble into on accident, though, so you don't have to worry about it. It takes intense training to be able to channel even a small amount of power like a Pokémon does."

The class is interesting enough, though you already know most of it. It focuses mostly on how humans can be safe from Pokémon, and how humans can train their Pokémon to battle safely. There's a lot of useful information like always making sure you know what's on the far side of whatever you're ordering your Pokémon to attack, but the rest is just encouragement in regards to training up a strong team of reliable partners that won't disobey your orders. The school themselves actually encourages everyone to take the badge challenge, or at least attempt to get the badge from the Violet City gym. Humans are even more gung ho about this whole recreational combat thing than you thought.

You suppose it sounds like it's not just recreational. Well, it is recreational, but it's also important to human culture because if no one knows how to order Pokémon to fight, no one can fight wild Pokémon if they start encroaching on human territory. Anything owned by humans is owned by humans because they constantly maintain that ownership. And in order to do so, humans have to control Pokémon. It's interesting. You didn't know humans relied on them so much.

It makes sense, you suppose. If real Pokémon are anything like you, they probably don't mind teaming up with a human anyway. Pokémon are not very ambitious or forward-thinking. They don't really plan anything outside of how they're going to get their next meal. They don't build things like humans do, they don't make these systems and categories To better understand the world. They just live one moment to the next. That makes it very, very easy to slip into the role of someone who just follows orders. You don't feel like an easy life is a bad thing. You aren't sure if it's better or worse than how humans live, though.

…You really, really aren't sure.

Class ends, leaving you vaguely existentially empty and slightly more informed about how the world works and how trainers are expected to act within it. The class took hours, and by the time you exit the building you are somehow both exhausted and incredibly antsy. You want to go do something, but you're not quite sure what. 

Hmm… that strange tower was certainly interesting.

Chapter Text

"Winter, Fall. Are you hungry?" you ask, glancing longingly in the direction of the strange tower by the lake.

"Not really," Winter yawns. "Just kind of sleepy and bored. I didn't understand half of what that human was spouting in there."

"I am sated," Fall rumbles.

You nod, not really all that hungry either, so you give in to your idle curiosity and head to the strange tower. It's somehow pretty, in both the human way a good piece of architecture is pretty, but also in the Pokémon way of how something that belongs is pretty. The closer you get, the more you feel a special sort of energy in the area, but it's not an energy you can really identify or describe. It's like… something here calms your spirit. Something here is holy.

The bridge across the lake is also beautiful in a serene way, but your attention is locked on the tower itself. On the inside, you're startled to find a massive wooden pillar swaying slightly back and forth that extends well up past the ceiling. It's almost hypnotic, and there are a handful of people loitering around nearby, taking pictures. The feeling of calm is stronger here.

You approach the pillar, and as you do you notice something else interesting. A young man in a buzz cut and heavy-looking robes stands in front of it, and he smells… off. Not in a bad way, just in a way a human shouldn't smell. You can't help it, you approach him. He smiles at you, and you lean in to give him a light sniff.

...Grass? Elemental Grass? Doesn't that kill humans? It's faint, but it's definitely there.

"Um, miss?" the monk asks, a hint of surprise and confusion in his tone. "Is this your first time here?"

You nod, pacing around to the other side of him and sniffing again. Yeah, it's definitely Grass. Wow! You're pretty sure the scientists never got a human to successfully bond with Grass.

"Er, welcome to sprout tower," he says with partially-forced serenity. He's reminding himself to be patient about something? "Here, we devote ourselves to the mysticality inherent to Pokémon battle. The first floor is open to all, but expect to be challenged to fights if you decide to go upstairs. We welcome all who wish to train and hone their skills."

Hmm. Well, that sounds promising. You do need your team to prepare a little more for the gym challenge. But there's something else bothering you here, something that still feels… more than just this weird human. What is… oh. Oh.

"This place is haunted," you realize.

The monk blinks in surprise.

"Haunted? You think there are ghosts here?"

Well. You know there are ghosts here, because you are here and you are a ghost, at least kind of. But yes, this place feels really nice and cozy to that part of you. There's no way there aren't at least a handful of ghosts hanging around.

"It's nice," you confirm, nodding at him. "I like it."

He doesn't seem to know what to say to that.

The monk's lack of social skills aside, you're very curious about these ghosts. You've fought Ghost-type Pokémon before, and it's always hectic thanks to the mutual weakness. Being composed mainly of Ghost and Psychic, Ghost-type attacks ravage both your primary energies, dealing immense damage to you even from relatively weak blows. But likewise, your own Ghost attacks are strong against other ghosts, and 'strike first, strike hard' has always been your primary strategy anyway.

The ghosts in this tower, however, are not attacking you. You're not sure what they're doing other than hiding, but they aren't attacking you and that's novel enough to be worth looking into. But how should you get the attention of some ghosts you can't even see? Hmm… well, there are numerous ways, but most of them would be pretty bad for your 'normal human' disguise. You turn your nose up to the air and sniff around a bit more, trying to separate out other smells from the cloying scent of Grass. It's faint, but you smell something vaguely… sweet?

The monk clears his throat, stealing your attention again.

"Um, miss?" he asks hesitantly. "You wouldn't happen to be a medium, would you? Or a hexer?"

You blink. Medium? Hexer? Oh, right. Humans that dabble with Ghost energy. You forgot that humans do that, considering that Ghost energy directly saps life force and is extremely damaging to living things. For obvious reasons, humans can't channel it directly into their bodies, but if you recall correctly you're pretty sure they've figured out how to channel it via objects and rituals. Ghost energy responds well to that sort of mysticism. For all you know there might have been some kind of ritual involved in your creation or stabilization, but you doubt it. The men in the white coats didn't seem the type.

"I suppose you could describe me as a hexer and psychic," you tell the monk, since lying to humans is bad and he seems oddly eager to make use of whatever skills he thinks you have. He also thinks you're a complete weirdo, which makes you frown. Is there something wrong with your illusion? Oh well, it doesn't much matter. Apparently, being a weirdo only makes your claim that you know stuff about ghosts more believable.

"And you're sure there are ghosts here?" he presses. "There have been some odd happenings, lately…"

He's prompting you. You're supposed to say something. Um. What are you supposed to say…?

"That's good?" you try. No, shoot, that answer confused him. That was wrong. Oh no. "I mean, that's not good?"

"Er…" the monk hedges, apparently unsatisfied with either of your answers. You tense, expecting punishment for a moment before you remember that he's a random monk you don't know and humans don't generally hit people that they think are also humans. "Actually, if you know about these sorts of things, could you possibly explain what you mean by 'good' or 'not good?' We're not… things have been strange, but if we're being haunted I don't know why and I don't know if I should be worried about it."

Oh. Well. You can explain some of that, you think?

"Something you are doing makes this place comfortable," you answer. "It is a good place for the dead. I do not think this is bad. I do not think a ghost would be mad at you for making a place like this. This is a good place."

It's all just feelings, but even if it wasn't you probably couldn't explain it any better than that. It seems to reassure the human, at least, and he gives you a grateful nod.

"I see. That's good to hear. I'm curious as to what the spirits are doing at night, however."

"I could ask them?" you offer with a shrug. You were hoping to speak with the ghosts here anyway, so it's certainly no trouble.

"Would you?" the monk asks with a thankful smile. "That would help put me at ease."

You nod, not entirely sure how to go about doing that but not terribly worried about whether or not you'll be able to. If there are Pokémon here, there are plenty of ways to force them out. …But you could also start by being polite, probably.

"Where are my fellow dead?" you trill, casting your eyes to the creaking rafters above. "I wish to speak with you."

The answer you get is somewhat unexpected.

"Who the FUCK is calling us this early?"

"Creator above, is the sun still up!? Whyyyyy."

"Stop whining, you're waking everyone else up too!"

"Aaaagh, it's so bright!"

"Would you all just be quiet!?"

"That's it! What dumb bitch started this!?"

Er. Whoops. This might be bad.

"I seem to have made the ghosts angry," you report to the monk as the sweet smell in the room gets stronger. Wait a minute, isn't this smell—

"Eighty-One. Come."

You freeze, terror seizing every last muscle in your body. No. This is impossible, isn't it? They captured him. Blue captured him. Blue saved you. You're safe.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Eighty-One."

You turn around on instinct, knowing deep in your bones not to disobey that voice. His Houndoom nips at your heels anyway (how had he gotten there!?) and you scurry forward with a wince, looking up at your worst nightmare. Cobalt blue hair, square glasses, and that same horrible white labcoat that everyone here wears. Everyone but you, because your clothes are gone and your illusion is gone and you're back in that place, with its walls of dark metal and flickering lights.

Trembling, you walk out of your cage and follow the head scientist. Your creator. Your master. No, no, no, how could this have happened!? You were free of this place, you were saved! How are you back here? How did you get here? You can't remember.

"How?" you whisper helplessly. Your master pauses and you jolt to a stop, terror multiplying.

"You don't need to speak if you are not asked a question, Eighty-One."

You say nothing to that, because it wasn't a question. Your master continues walking, and you follow. The hot breath of the Houndoom singes your neck, a constant reminder to never step out of line, and the sharp, grating sound of stone dragging across metal further reminds you that your master's invisible protector is always there as well. There is no escape. There is no disobedience. You know this more than anything else in the world.

"Your brain is over ninety-nine percent converted now," your master says. Where have you heard that before? "It's a wonder you can still talk at all. Bodes well for our research, of course, but you've obviously still suffered severe mental degradation. Your continued survival remains, as ever, a surprise."

You do not respond. You do not react. You are not supposed to.

"We'll be doing resilience and integration testing today, Eighty-One," your master informs you. "Do try to continue your streak of living through it. There are at least a few more months of useful tests we can get out of you as your changes stabilize. Then we'll give you away to one of the battle freaks, I suppose. You're no Mewtwo, but I'm sure they'll still froth at the mouth over you."

You do not respond. You do not react. You are not supposed to. You are led to a familiar chamber, and you walk inside a familiar glass tube. It seals behind you. You turn around to face your master, who presses a few buttons on a console.

"Five, five, one, oh. Starting resilience and integration test: Ghost."

Ghost? Ghost!? You thought they discontinued the Ghost testing! They said it interferes too heavily with your natural energies. They said it would kill you! They said—

"Beginning… now."

The tube floods with power, stored and dispensed via arcane methods outside your knowledge. You scream, your body ravaged by one of your greatest weaknesses. For an agonizing eternity, you feel yourself being torn apart from the inside and out. You can't handle this. You can't survive this. You bang on the inside of the tube, even though you're not supposed to, and the pain only multiplies. No, no, no you're going to die you're going to die you're going to die you're going to—

"Feint Attack!"

A voice from everywhere and nowhere rings out, and the pain stops. What?

"What the fuck happened here?" an oddly familiar voice mumbles. "Hey!"

Something invisible touches your face. Something slaps your cheek. Something grabs your chin. What is happening?

"Hey, wake up, damn it!"

Are you asleep?

"Oh my fucking god I can't believe I'm wasting one of these on you. Will this even work?"

You feel a fine mist spritz your face and attack your nostrils with tremendous fury. Your eyes jolt open in an instant, and… wait, your eyes were closed? A familiar face looms over you, a bottle of Awakening in one hand as the other holds the back of your head. You're on your back, on the ground, and the crimson-red hair of Silver is above you, the collar of his shirt hiked up over his nose for some reason. The room is dark despite the time of day, absolutely seeping with Ghost-type energy, and that sweet smell is still in the air…

"Don't breathe it, you idiot," Silver growls, slapping a handkerchief over your face. Ew, it smells like human boogers and tears. …And him.

Wait, did he just save you?

Chapter Text

Well, there's no time to think about what just happened, you're obviously under attack. Keeping the handkerchief over your nose, you rapidly slide out from under Silver and get to your feet, recalling Winter and Fall to their Pokéballs upon noticing that they're both asleep. In fact, everyone you can see other than Silver and his Sneasel are asleep. The room is dark, the exit is shut, and the thick, cloying Ghost energy that overwhelms the area is frustrated and hostile. Hmm. No obvious safe spaces.

"Hahaha. 'Fellow dead?' What a prick."

"Awfully corporeal for a ghost, aren't you girl?"

"Disturbing our slumber is quite foolish."

"You only have yourself to blame."

The voices ring out from the walls, from everywhere and nowhere. Your fur bristles, and you let your own power seep free, negative emotions coalescing into frigid darkness above your head. An enemy could be coming from anywhere…!

"Come on!" Silver calls to you. "Upstairs!"

He starts running towards a stairwell for some reason. Why? It's not like the enemy can't climb stairs. Instinctively, you follow him anyway. When a human gives an order, you're supposed to obey.

You rush up the stairs after him, and surprisingly the room gets lighter, the weight of hostile energy letting up. Silver pulls his collar down off his nose and wafts air towards himself without inhaling, checking the scent. Apparently satisfied, he takes a tentative breath, and nods.

"That was a fuckton of angry Gastly," he says, letting out a relieved sigh. "What happened down there?"

"I told a monk I sensed ghosts," you explain. "He asked me to talk to them. I tried to talk to them. Then… I don't know. I was asleep, somehow."

"Yeah, if you so much as take two breaths of a Gastly you'll get sent down for the count," Silver scowls. "Didn't you smell them?"

"The sweet smell?" you ask for clarification. His body language silently confirms it. "Yes, I smelled it. I didn't recognize it. I haven't been attacked that way before."

Silver sighs and stretches.

"Well, if you smell it again, stop breathing and get to high ground. They can float around but their poison is heavier than air. You okay, Sneasel?"

"I'm fine," the awful Dark-type grunts, glowering at you. You glower back, to establish dominance. Silver, of course, has no idea what his Pokémon just said, but the fact that it said anything seems to confirm for him that Sneasel is not at risk of passing out any time soon.

"Why did you save me?" you ask Silver, still glaring at his Pokémon.

"Uh, because I saw a whole room of people trapped in nightmares and the smartest thing to do was to save the strongest one first?" Silver answers. "I was upstairs kicking the asses of all the monks that live here, and since I beat them all up they won't be able to help. But you beat me. You can't be weak if you beat me."

Nightmares? Oh. Oh! It was just a nightmare. Very… realistic for a nightmare, though. And very painful. A lot of your energy is sapped. They were keeping you asleep and draining you alive, you suppose. Devious, and certainly a good tactic for fighting a superior foe. You wish you knew more status moves, but your repertoire of skills is primarily offensive.

"If not breathing renders immunity to the sleep effect, then I shouldn't have much trouble defeating the rest of the Gastly," you agree.

"...You gonna put your illusion back up first?" he asks.

You blink, looking down at yourself. Oh, hmm. You're not maintaining your illusion anymore. It's especially good that you were woken up first, then. That could have gotten… awkward. You close your eyes and weave your anxiety into a shield, and when you open them your fur is gone, your tail is invisible, and your ears are round. Human once more, like you were so long ago.

"Thank you," you tell Silver, since Aunt Tess would have wanted you to.

"Don't thank me," he scoffs. "It's not like I can leave until all these ghosts stop fucking around. I just didn't want to do it all myself."

You stare at him, confused at the gulf between his emotions and his words. There's definitely more to it than that. A degree of empathy is present that very much wasn't around the first time you ran into him. What changed? You kicked his butt, mugged him, and then tortured him.

"I expected you to hate me," you admit to him.

He stares at you a bit, then shrugs.

"You beat me, you had the right. I've forgiven worse pain. Now come on, everyone downstairs is probably getting pretty fucked up."

Oh, right. You nod, following him back to the stairs.

"What type are you, by the way?" he asks.

"Ghost and Psychic," you answer.

"What? You… how the fuck are you alive?"

"I'm not sure I am?"

He scowls.

"Well, you might be vulnerable to Gastly, but they're also especially vulnerable to you. Hit them fast and hard and you'll be fine."

You know that, but you don't mind hearing it. Even if it reminds you of the instructions you would often receive before battles at that place, there's a certain comfort to them. Hit them fast and hard, and you'll be fine. You'll be fine.

You can't help but grin a little. Fine? Not just fine. You're not in that place anymore. It's gone. You were saved. But these ghosts tried to send you back. You will destroy them all, and drink in their strength.

"Come to think of it," Silver says, bringing his shirt up over his nose again, "I've never seen that weird Ghost move you use either. What's it called?"

"Bitter Malice!" you hiss, and leap down the stairs to flood the room with your hate.

A handful of Gastly fall immediately, but the rest scatter, becoming difficult to see and even harder to hit. Individually, each one would be absolutely zero threat. Maybe one or two in the whole bunch are even half your level of power. But there are a lot of them, and a stray Hypnosis or Lick might make you fall asleep or paralyze you, putting you in a really bad position. Pair that with their hit-and-run tactics, and you're actually at quite the disadvantage here. You'll need to change the situation, and fast.

Fortunately, you have a solid method of doing exactly that, albeit one that takes a frustrating amount of time to set up. Dancing around the first floor, you stay close to Silver's Sneasel so he can watch your back as you move erratically, preemptively trying to throw off the aim of any invisible ambushers. As you do, you leak Psychic energy onto the battlefield, suffusing the room and covering the ground with glowing purple motes of power. This isn't really the type of strategy you go for often; you're used to fighting in a much smaller room where taking time to set up is potentially lethal. But right now you need to do this, because currently your only method of striking multiple opponents at once is by establishing a multiplicative psychic energy field over the ground and using it to amplify a wave effect that would otherwise be too thin to damage more than a line. Or as the scientists put it, you use Psychic Terrain and then Expanding Force.

The Psychic pulse emanates from your body and rips the ghosts to shreds, carefully aimed away from the floor so it doesn't kill any humans lying unconscious on the ground. Silver is largely handling them, dragging people up the stairs and clear from the poisonous gas. You can hold your breath for a pretty long time, so you're not terribly worried about running out of air. You think you need less of it than people do?

Regardless, with your Psychic Terrain encroaching on the Ghost energy and your attacks ripping through Gastly like tissue paper, you soon feel the invigorating abundance of energy flowing into your body, courtesy of your defeated foes. The light in the room slowly brightens as the ghosts are destroyed, and soon enough the power holding the front door shut peters out, swinging the door open and getting some much-needed ventilation into the room. People start to wake up shortly afterwards, but you're basking in the feeling of a fight well-won so you mostly ignore it.

"You sure made short work of them," Silver grunts, walking towards you with a Pokéball spinning on one finger.

"They were numerous, but still weak," you confirm, shrugging.

"Well," Silver grins, letting the Pokéball drop into his palm and catching it. "I managed to snag the strongest one before you killed it a second time, so I guess I can consider the trip to this weakling tower worthwhile after all. Maybe with enough training it'll be able to get some revenge?"

You tilt your head.

"Revenge?"

"I told you before, didn't I?" Silver smirks. "I'm going to catch you. You're exactly what I need."

"Pokéballs don't work on me," you remind him.

"Y'know, I almost believed that? But then I remembered that you're buddy-buddy with some League bigwigs. There are ways to catch Pokémon that are a lot older than anything they could get the claws of their system into, you know."

Hrm. Well, Blue did say it would only be officially sanctioned Pokéballs that his gift protects you from. So he's probably right. Still, though…

"You are not worthy," you tell Silver. "You are not strong enough."

"I'll admit that," he nods, his answer catching you by surprise. "You beat me. But don't think I can't surpass you, freak. See you next time."

He gives you a cocky, one-handed wave and starts heading out of the building. Around you, the remaining sleeping humans finally start getting up, holding their heads and looking confused.

"Wh-what happened?" the monk asks.

"One moment," you tell the monk, snatching Silver with your mind before he manages to walk out of your telekinesis range. He makes a bit of a strangled noise before you turn back to the much nicer man.

"I made the ghosts mad and they attacked us," you tell the monk. "So we destroyed them. I'm sorry."

"You… destroyed them? So they're exorcized? Gone?" the monk asks.

"...Yes?"

"They're not coming back?"

Um.

"Those specific ghosts are not ever coming back," you confirm. "But more ghosts are going to move in, probably. It's very nice here."

He immediately seems terrified, which wasn't your intention. You quickly continue.

"...It's probably fine," you insist. "They lashed out because they were sleeping and I disturbed them. Just don't bother whoever moves in during the day, and be nice to them at night? Say hi. Maybe give them things. Even if you don't, they are unlikely to be mad at you. You are giving them a good place. This is a very nice tower."

He calms down a little. But only a little.

"...I will speak with the other monks about this," he ultimately decides. "Thank you, um… sorry, what was your name?"

"I was named Mercury," you answer.

He seems a bit startled by your phrasing for some reason. It's true though; your name is Mercury because you were named Mercury. It was your first name, before it was changed, and then when Blue saved you he changed it back. He named you Mercury again, instead of Subject Eighty-One, and so that's what it is.

"I… I see. I'll, ah. Good day to you then, Mercury."

You nod and move to follow the struggling Silver, releasing him from your telekinetic grip once you catch up to him. Which is only a few steps, really. He didn't make it far.

"Was that really necessary?" Silver growls.

"I am the superior," you remind him. "I get to say when you leave. And I have more I want to talk about."

"Tch. Fine."

You smile. For all his many flaws, you do like how Silver just kind of gets it.

"You still want to capture me," you say. "Why? I am strong, but there are Pokémon stronger than me."

"I'm inclined to shoot that question back at you," Silver grunts. "I've made clear that I intend to capture you in a fucking ball and use you to accomplish my goals, and you seem almost blase about the whole thing."

The two of you step out onto the bridge between the town and Sprout Tower. Well, one of two bridges. A large and beautiful lake is the real obstacle between Violet City and the tower, calm and clear teeming with happy Poliwag and Magikarp. In the middle of the lake is a tiny island, not even big enough for a building, but certainly big enough for a bench and a great view.

Silver clearly wants to redirect the conversation away from him and onto you, and you're instinctively inclined to go along with that. But you manage to catch yourself, at least this time, and press on.

"I asked first," you say. "Explain it to me."

Silver sighs.

"I mentioned that I know where you come from," he says. "I know who made you. I know why they made you. My father was… part of that organization."

You nod. You find it hard to think a lot of the time, but even you could put together that Silver must have some connection to that place based on what he's said to you. But you don't recognize his smell from that place, or his voice, or even the Pokémon he fights with. So the connection was probably indirect, at most. And based on how he mentions the organization behind it, he is not their ally.

"So part of it is just that I think you have the potential to get a lot stronger," Silver says. "Part of it is that I think you won't really mind helping me wipe out what's left of the people who made you. And part of it is just the fact that… well. You were going to be given to me anyway."

…What?

"In some fucked-up way, you're part of my birthright," Silver continues. "And sure, I don't hold too much stock in that. But I do like the idea of seizing what was going to be a gift with my own two hands. To take something they were going to toss out, claim it as my own, and smash them with it. It just feels… fitting. You know?"

You shrug.

"Not really."

"And there's the last part of it," Silver chuckles. "If I told a real human I wanted to put them into a ball and force them to be my slave, they'd be pretty fucking pissed at me, don't you think? But you barely even care. It's never 'you can't do that' or 'that would be horrific' or 'I will never work for you' or whatever. It's always 'you are not worthy.' 'You are not strong enough.' As if someone who is strong enough would be worthy. You want to just get in a ball and obey, don't you, freak?"

You say nothing. You are not sure what to say.

"Yeah, thought so," Silver smirks. "You might be able to talk, but you're still just a Pokémon. That's why you were a failure, even as one of the only survivors."

You nod. That makes sense. The scientists said something similar; the way your brain was altered made you a failure. Useful in certain ways, but not the point of the project. If they wanted to make something with the mind of a Pokémon, they said, they wouldn't have had any need for a human subject in the first place.

"When Blue saved me," you tell Silver, "I asked to be part of his team. I wanted to serve him. He said no."

He was horrified, in fact. Beyond mortified at the idea that you would want that, that you would wish for that sort of servitude. But why wouldn't you? His whole team cared for him. They loved him. They enjoyed serving him. They told you so. So why wouldn't you want to join them?

It makes no sense. But he made it clear you're not supposed to want that, so… here you are.

"I fucking knew it," Silver grins. "Well, you don't have to listen to him."

He pulls out another Pokéball and offers it to you, reaching out with his other hand towards your face.

"What do you say we skip to the end and just—"

His words cut off because the moment he brushes his finger against your chin you punch him in the gut and telekinetically shove his ass into the lake. He sprawls through the air, dropping like a boulder into the calm pond with a dramatic sploosh. Hacking and coughing, he flails his way back to the surface, swimming over to the side of the bridge to hoist himself back on something dry. As he grabs the edge, however, you place telekinetic pressure on top of his head and prevent him from getting out of the water.

"What the fuck!?" he sputters.

"You touched me," you point out. "You do not get to touch me."

"Fuck! Fine! Point made! I'm sorry!"

You squat down to get your face closer to his, and continue.

"As for your offer, I already told you: you are not worthy. You are not strong. Maybe you will be later. Maybe you won't be. But right now? No."

"Got it," he grumbles. "You didn't have to throw me, damn."

"Aunt Tess told me it was okay to throw boys who touch me," you tell him, "so you are wrong."

He winces, immediately becoming more subdued.

"Furthermore," you continue, "I have a condition."

"And what's that?" he mutters.

"Do you know how it feels to be inside a Pokéball?"

He blinks, apparently not expecting that question.

"Uh, no?" he says. "Obviously not? They say it shouldn't feel like much of anything, though, and none of my Pokémon seem to hate it or anything so I assumed that was right. Why?"

"It is right," you confirm, swirling the water around him in a soft current. "Pokéballs are… nice. Relaxing. I wouldn't say it's a good feeling, necessarily, but certainly not a bad one. They just feel like… nothing at all."

"Huh. Okay. Sounds boring, I guess. That the problem?"

"No. It isn't boring at all," you correct. "It is nothing. No air, no body, no pain, no movement, no sensation, no desire. Nothing. Emptiness, both external and internal. A dreamless sleep, calm and without a single nightmare. There can be a vague awareness of what's happening around the ball, but it just… doesn't matter really, until you're released."

"Huh," Silver says. "Okay. Why does that matter, though? Sounds kind of nice."

"It is nice for a while," you agree. "A dreamless sleep that lasts a few hours? Calming. I like that. But what is a dreamless sleep that lasts days? A sleep that lasts months? A sleep that lasts years? At what point is that kind of nothingness just death?"

"Um," Silver responds, not seeming to know where you're going with this and not looking forward to the answer.

"A Pokéball is fine," you tell him. "But humans have made other things. Storage systems. Places to horde, to capture and contain and never release again. This, I will not abide. I did not survive that place to be sent to the death of digital obsolescence. If you best me? If you capture me? You will use me. And if you ever try to send me away to that thing I will kill you, worthy master or no."

That is, perhaps, the one line you will draw. You don't want much. You're not sure if you can want much, anymore. But you will not die. You will not fade away after so much hardship and pain, not when you've finally gotten free of those dark metal corridors and men in coats. Your life is difficult and terrible and you barely even understand the world anymore, but you are in the world, and both Blue and Aunt Tess agree that you can find happiness in it. Somewhere, you can.

You believe them, and so you continue on.

"Can I get out of the water now?" Silver grunts.

Oh, right. You stop holding him in the water and help pull him out instead. Silver releases his Cindaquill, who starts helping Silver dry off. Cyndaquil is… hesitant about his master. Silver's Sneasel really likes him, but Sneasel is a dark type so you're not sure how much you trust him. Cyndaquil isn't sure what to think yet. You suppose the two haven't been together long. But Cyndaquil doesn't hate his situation, at least. He's just… confused.

"Well, if that's all, I'll be taking my leave, then," Silver grumbles.

"No," you say. "You have one final task today."

"Ugh, fine," Silver groans. "What do you need?"

"Buy me ice cream."

He stares at you for a moment. You put your hands on your hips to show how serious you are. That's probably human body language, right? You're way better at intuiting it than doing it.

"...What?" Silver asks.

"Buy me ice cream," you repeat. Then you release Winter and Fall as well, who are still snoozing. You pick up Fall, but you can't do the same with Winter since she'll trigger your unstable cells. "Wake up Winter, too. And then buy us all ice cream."

"You realize I'm nearly broke after you mugged me last time, right?" Silver sighs.

"I am superior to you and you have to do what I say," you remind him.

Silver groans.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Fine, come on. Can't believe I'm getting ordered around by a fucking Pokémon…"

Yay! Ice cream! You like ice cream because it is cold and sweet and your favorites are the berry flavors. Flavors are neat! You're so used to eating cheap Pokémon food and raw meat that sweet things are always delightful. Aunt Tess bought you ice cream from the store one time and you devoured the whole tub overnight. Oh right, didn't Aunt Tess pack you some poffins? You need to remember to eat those. Silver uses another Awakening on Winter, causing her to flail about and jump around in surprise as Fall snoozes in your arms. That's okay. He doesn't have to walk so he can take a nap.

Silver's Cyndaquil hops up into his arms to act as a portable heater as Silver leads the way, still dripping water from the lake. The two of you get some stares in town as a result, but it doesn't take long for Silver to lead you to a surprisingly large ice cream shop. Woah! Can humans really make a living off of nothing but ice cream?

Silver takes a moment to let Cyndaquil dry him enough to stop dripping on the ground as you bounce lightly in place, drinking in the fact that there is an entire building dedicated to sweet, delicious ice cream. Amazing. Incredible. You wish you were still human purely so you could share the credit for this wonderful achievement that is humanity's dedication to frozen treats.

You walk inside with your entourage of Pokémon, overwhelmed by the milky scent and delightfully cold temperature of the room. An entire display case full of different ice cream flavors lines the counter in front of you, all different colors! Wow! They all even have names, but reading is difficult so you try to figure out which one would be best by color. There are just too many tasty-looking ones, though! And the glass case is in the way so you can't really tell which smells like which.

"Finding what you're looking for, miss?" a chipper employee asks you. "Are your Pineco and Vulpix also getting a treat with us today?"

"Yes!" you declare.

"What is this place?" Fall asks.

"It's nice and cold in here, at least," Winter purrs, shaking her fur.

"Fall, this is an ice cream shop. A whole shop of ice cream! Nothing else!"

"What is ice cream?" Fall asks.

"We actually serve a number of other things if you're interested."

"I am not!" you declare. "Ice cream is tasty. What flavor would you like, Fall? They have many colors."

Silver gives you an odd look as the employee chuckles and leads you over to a separate display case on the side.

"These are our Pokémon flavors," she says. "They're mostly just raw berries blended in a bit of Miltank cream."

There's a small counter in front of the glass display, and the employee pats it while looking at Winter to indicate she's allowed to jump up. She does, and you look over the available options as a team. Oh gosh they look amazing.

"I would like the Mago berry flavor!" you declare. Wait, you're supposed to say please. "Please!"

"For both of them, or…?"

"For me! I think they're still deciding."

"Is there any chance we could smell these?" Winter asks.

"Is there any way you could let them smell the options?" you translate.

"Um… sure," the employee says, lifting the glass a little. Oh, gosh, these smell great. "The, um. These ones aren't really made for people? They're just raw berries."

Raw berries taste awesome, though.

"What about the other way around?" Silver asks. You jump a little, having forgotten he's there for anything other than payment. "Can we order the stuff in the other case for our Pokémon?"

"Uhh, you can, but you probably shouldn't," the attendant says. "They tend to not like it. Artificial flavoring sensitivity, and some of these might give them the runs. Especially chocolate."

"Ah," Silver says, side-eyeing you.

"This one smells good," Winter says, pointing her nose at one of the flavors.

"Third from the left," Fall grunts.

You squint at the label plates and do your best to read them.

"Aaaaspear berry for Winter and… Aguuuav berry for Fall," you tell the attendant. "Please."

"And she still wants the Mago," Silver says for you. Which is correct, so you don't mind. "I'll take two Oran berry scoops and… y'know what, just give me chocolate so none of these guys have a reason to steal any."

"Sure thing," the employee shrugs, thinking you're making a mistake but you aren't so whatever. She scoops up the order and soon after the six of you are sitting outside at a picnic table, Silver's whole team bar the new Gastly eating alongside yours. It's wonderful and cold and so, so, so delightfully sweet!

"Hey, wait… oh! Hey, Mercury!"

Hmm? Oh! That voice! It's Kris! You turn around to face the speaker and wave, spotting Kris' ridiculous blue horn-hair immediately.

"Wow, I leave you alone for a few hours and you've already found a friend, huh?" Kris asks, seeming considerably more dirty and considerably more relaxed than the last time you saw her. "Who's she?"

You blink. Who is who? Oh! Does Kris mean Silver? You suppose that, now that you think about it, Silver does have a hairstyle you mostly see on human women. He smells like a boy so you assumed he was a boy, but your nose has been wrong about humans before…

"I am sorry, Silver," you say, blinking at him apologetically. "You smell like a boy so I assumed, but I did not ask."

"What?" Silver asks, turning to look at you and Kris.

"Smell?" Kris asks, giving you a funny look before glancing at Silver's face for the first time. "Oh! Oh gosh, I'm sorry, you just… your hair is really nice, so I thought…! Sorry! Sorry, I'm so dumb!"

"It's… fine," Silver dismisses, giving you a really mixed impression of emotions that doesn't elucidate the issue one bit. "Who the fuck are you, anyway?"

"Oh! Um, hi! My name's Kris! I just kinda… ran into Mercury a while back and a Nurse Joy asked me to keep an eye on her, I guess."

Silver snorts.

"Why, did she catch a cold or something?"

"Uh… Nurse Joys are veterinarians. You know that, right?" Kris asks, giving Silver a confused stare because you are very good at pretending to be human.

"Ah," Silver says. "Well, if you don't know I'm sure not gonna tell you. More fun that way."

"Uh. Okay?" Kris says, bewildered. "You know this, uh, person, Mercury?"

"This is Silver. I have met Silver a few times. Silver, you never answered me. Are you a boy?"

"So I'm told," Silver says, eyes rolling.

"I know that," you remind Silver. "I told you that. Just now. But is it true?"

"Yes!" he exclaims, frustrated. "It's true! Obviously!"

Hmm. Well, okay then. You're kind of getting some strange, irritated signals, but you don't think he's lying (and you're not sure what you would do if you thought he was anyway) so you nod, and suppose that is that.

"Of course, yeah," Kris chuckles awkwardly. "Sorry. You do take really good care of your hair though."

"Is that a fucking crime?" Silver snaps.

"Wh— no! It's a compliment!"

Silver drums his fingers on the table and takes a lick of ice cream.

"Oh," he says.

You also decide to focus on your ice cream. It is very sweet and tasty. You love sweet flavors and hate bitter ones. This is very sweet and not at all bitter. You're not sure if there are any bitter ice creams, but this isn't one of them. It is the best ice cream. Winter and Fall seem to be enjoying their ice cream as well, though not nearly as much as you.

"Well, uh… you ready for the gym challenge, Mercury?" Kris says. You nod silently, your tongue still focused on what's really important here.

"Wait, you're taking her to the gym challenge?" Silver asks, a little startled.

"Uh… kind of?" Kris says. "We signed up together."

"Oh. Right. Duh," Silver says. "Wait, Mercury, your trainer card is real?"

You glower at him, removing your mouth from what little is left of your ice cream.

"Yes, it is real," you grumble. "Blue gave it to me. He wouldn't give me a fake one."

Well technically Professor Elm gave it to you, but only because Blue told him to so it doesn't really count.

"Wait, Blue? You don't mean the Blue, do you? Of Pallet town?"

"He is the leader of the Viridian City gym, actually," you correct. "Not Pallet town."

"Oh gosh. Holy gosh!" Kris gulps. "He's super famous! You got your trainer card from him personally? How does that even happen!?"

"Blue saved me and has been helping me," you tell her. "He gave me my trainer card, and he gave me Winter, and he gave me my purpose. He's the one that told me to go to Goldenrod and talk to Bill."

"Oh Arceus," Kris says, clutching her temples. "So when you said you needed to meet someone named Bill, you mean like… like Bill Bill. Creator and owner of the PC storage system Bill. Hooooly crap. I thought Bill lived in Kanto, though?"

"He will be in Goldenrod," you assure her. You know this because Blue told you so.

"Woah," Kris gapes. "I had no idea you had so many famous connections! It feels like next you'll tell me you met Lance."

"Oh. Yes. I did. He was there when… I think it was a talk about 'custody?' Which was a bit confusing because neither of them wanted to own me. Lance wanted to take me away somewhere instead of have me stay with Aunt Tess, so Blue said 'don't make me kick your ass over this, Champion,' in a really condescending way to bring attention to how Blue is stronger than Lance. So I got taken to live with Aunt Tess and Lance told Blue I would be 'his problem.'"

You continue munching on the last of your ice cream in relative silence as Silver and Kris both stare at you with horrified expressions on their faces. You double check your illusion. Hmm. Still up. You wonder what they're so concerned about.

This really is tasty ice cream.

"I have… so many questions," Kris manages, "but I feel like asking any of them would be rude so instead I'm gonna ask if you got any good training in today."

"Hrm. Kind of," you tell her. "I fought some ghosts. They were very rude and mean."

"You're welcome for saving you, by the way," Silver grunts.

"I am glad to be welcome," you nod.

"Ahaha… that… sounds interesting," Kris says awkwardly. "I actually caught a new team member as a backup! Just in case! I found a Mareep out on Route 32, and I'm sure she'll be a huge help against Falkner's flying-type Pokémon! Her name is Reeree! I guess you already have a great team member for the fight, though. Winter will do really well against Falkner's zero-badge team."

"Winter is getting stronger," you agree with a nod.

"Heck yeah I am!" Winter agrees. "I'm gonna be on point for the gym, huh?"

"Yes, you will be," you nod at her. "Fall, you will be at a disadvantage against Flying types, so your contributions will ideally be unneeded. This time. There will be more battles down the line for you to hone your skills."

The Pineco rumbles his agreement as he continues messily getting his shell covered in ice cream.

"Well, if you wanna get any last-minute training done, now is the time!" Kris grins, her hands on her hips. "I can show you the spot Tutu and I found Reeree, if you want. It's a pretty good place to get Winter and Fall more combat experience, I think."

Well, some training would be good, you suppose. …After you're done with ice cream, of course. Not a moment sooner.

Chapter Text

“Hmm,” you mutter, nodding thoughtfully as you swallow the last of your ice cream. Woe, for it is gone. Rejoice, for it was delicious. “More training yields more strength. Winter, Fall. We will battle to prepare for our battle. Silver, would you like to join us?”

“What?” Silver asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Am I still not free to go, oh all-powerful master?”

You preen at his title of address, but shake your head.

“No, you may go if you want to,” you tell him. “This ice cream was sufficient tribute. But if there is a good training spot, I want to show you. You will not become strong enough without training. I will just keep beating you.”

“Oh, is that how it is?” Silver scoffs. “Fine. Let’s train. I just need to stop by the center first to get my new Gastly checked out.”

“Oh-ho!” Kris says, smiling on the sidelines. “Is that a rivalry I smell? In that case, you should take the gym challenge too, Silver!”

“I already have the Violet City badge,” Silver snorts. “It’s pathetically easy. Sneasel swept the whole thing by himself.”

“It really was pathetic,” Silver’s Sneasel agrees, chomping down the last of his own ice cream.

“How pathetic?” you ask. “Do you think Winter would be able to win?”

“What? Hey! Don’t ask that jerk!” Winter protests.

“Who, your weak little runt?” the Sneasel asks, prompting many sputtered protests from Winter. “Sure. Even she should be able to pull it off.”

“I’ll pull your butt off!!!” Winter snarls at him.

“Thank you,” you tell the Sneasel, nodding at him. He may be weaker than you overall, but he is still dangerous and has your respect. “In that case, Winter, you will resume independent training today. Do not tire yourself out as much as last time. Fall, you and I will work on projectile interception.”

“Yes, boss!” Fall barks, the entire front of his shell absolutely slathered with ice cream. Hmm. That’s. Probably worth commenting on.

“…Do you need help getting clean?” you ask Fall.

“No. I got sticky on purpose,” he tells you. “All this sugar will make it much easier to attract other bugs to eat.”

“Fall, you do not need to attract Bug Pokémon to eat,” you remind him. “I am responsible for feeding you now. You will get free food.”

“Oh. I forgot.”

Sticky is bad. Ice cream is delicious but it comes at a great cost, which is that if any gets into your fur it makes you regret it. You are very good at eating carefully to avoid this, but if you try to hold Fall now he’ll get his mess all over you.

“Hrrn. You will travel in your ball until we find somewhere to clean you,” you declare, and recall him to his Pokéball. “Winter, are you ready?”

“Heck yeah I am! I’ve got butts to kick!”

“Okay. Lead the way, Kris.”

“Sure thing,” Kris nods. “You, uh, coming with, Silver?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Silver grunts, recalling his team. “Let’s get going already.”

Silver storms off, prompting Kris to run after him since she’s the one who’s supposed to actually be leading us to our destination. You and Winter follow at a more sedate pace, hanging back and keeping your eyes, ears, and nose out for the various interesting and distracting qualia of the city. The sun is high in the sky, so people bustle all over the crowded marketplace. It’s probably more humans packed together in one spot than you’ve seen in years, though if your memory serves you think this kind of thing is pretty normal for humans. Goldenrod is probably several times busier.

“So, um, how well do you know Mercury?” Kris asks Silver in that quiet tone humans use when they incorrectly believe you can’t hear them.

“Not super well, but probably a lot better than you,” Silver grunts.

“Uh… huh. Sorry, I’m still trying to figure her out, is all. It’s really cute how she talks to her Pokémon like that, but I’m not sure if I should be worried about her?”

“She does seem to act like they can understand her, huh?” Silver muses.

“Well, I mean, studies show Pokémon can understand us, at least at a pretty basic level. They’re almost as smart as human toddlers, even? Talking to Pokémon is totally normal, it’s just, y’know. Acting like they talk back?”

Oh. It’s just humans being dumb about the Pokémon language again. Whatever. You’ve tried to explain how it works to humans before, but you aren’t very good at it and they just don’t get it. It’s too contextual, too instinctive. Maybe someone smarter than you could figure it out, but it is a language that’s primarily based on body language and tone that works between people with completely different and alien body shapes to one another. You bet humans could figure it out if they knew what to look for, but you can hardly blame them for not being able to find any consistent patterns.

“…It’s definitely weird,” Silver agrees. “But Mercury is weird in the head. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s a little loopy.”

“You think so?” Kris mutters. “I mean, she’s quirky, sure, but I don’t think she thinks they’re people. I mean like, right after I met her a Joy nearly had her infracted for Pokémon abuse.”

“Ha! What, you think people can’t abuse other people?” Silver scoffs. “You have no idea what kind of fucked up shit Mercury does. She’s probably just nutzo and a bad trainer.”

Well, you don’t have to take talk like that from Silver of all people.

“And yet,” you announce, picking up your walking speed to get closer, “I am better than you.”

“Ack!” Kris yelps, instantly terrified of the possibility that you listened to her talking about you. “M-mercury! Hi!”

“Heard the whole thing, didn’t you?” Silver smirks, not even remotely repentant for anything he said.

“Yes,” you answer. “But it is not as though I’ve haven’t heard it before.”

Many times before, in these past few months since your rescue. You very much appreciate being rescued, of course, but it has its frustrations.

“M-mercury, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Were you lying?” you ask, cutting her off. You know she wasn’t, but this is a human thing so you get to ask questions you don’t mean sometimes, too.

“What?” Kris asks. “I just… I mean…”

“Were you lying when you said you were worried about me for acting like I can understand Pokémon?”

“Well, um. No, I guess not.”

“Then you aren’t sorry,” you tell her. “Don’t start lying about that, too. It’s very annoying when people think they can lie to me. Can we start training?”

Thoroughly chastised, Kris shrinks down on herself and nods, leading you out of the city’s southwest exit to a woody set of foothills. Larger mountains loom in the distance, but for now there’s just the occasionally craggy patch between shallow peaks, their low points dotted with pine trees and the rest covered in lush grass. The cool, salty scent of cliffside seawater lingers to the south as well, meaning you’ve probably managed to make it to the far side of Cherrygrove bay. You feel that instinctive urge to resume your journey to Goldenrod again, but you remind yourself that Blue never gave you a time limit and wanted you to act like a trainer, too. It is okay to do what you are doing.

“Okay, uh, it’s just over this way,” Kris mumbles awkwardly, still embarrassed about having a conversation regarding your sanity.

Kris presses through a thick grove of trees to reveal a secluded clearing. It seems empty at a glance, but just one sniff of the air and it’s obvious there are Pokémon all over the place, hiding in the trees and grass. It’s a huge area, overgrown with the kind of wild energy that makes it obvious humans have given up on trying to tame it.

“…The Pokémon here will be more dangerous than the main route,” you warn. “Winter, do not stray far from me. Pick your battles.”

You release Fall from his Pokéball as Winter shouts an affirmative and scampers off.

“Today, Fall, we will practice together,” you tell him, and you try to continue but Kris walks up to talk to you again.

“Look, um, Mercury,” she says awkwardly, “I wanna say sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to interrogate Silver about you like that.”

Okay you guess you’re doing this before training, apparently.

“Why not?” you ask her.

“Huh?” she blinks.

“I don’t understand why you shouldn’t have tried to question Silver about me,” you clarify.

“Well… I was rude,” Kris tells you.

“Yes, but that was more about what you asked than the fact that you asked it.”

Kris opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. And then closes it.

“…Well I’m sorry for being rude to you,” Kris eventually answers. “I’m curious about you, but that was no reason to… um. I mean, Silver said most of the mean things about you, I guess, but… sorry, this apology is going really poorly.”

“The only thing I am annoyed about is the assumption that Pokémon are not intelligent enough to have a conversation, but I have no interest in trying to convince you I can speak with them and no expectation of being capable of doing so successfully.”

“Oh,” Kris says. “Wait, so you do think you can understand Pokémon?”

You sigh. Even Blue just patronizes you about this. Humans have apparently done quite a bit of research about Pokémon intelligence and decided they can’t understand tools or puzzles very well, they can’t do math, and they struggle with making long-term plans, and so therefore they can’t possibly have developed a language. And they’re kind of right, in the sense that Pokémon haven’t developed a language. They just… are people that can understand each other instinctively. And you can understand them too.

Explaining this would be a pain, though. You’re not sure if you want to. It would probably necessitate dropping your illusion, and you’re not sure how you feel about that either.

On one hand, you don’t really like your illusion and it would be dramatically easier to train Fall if you didn’t have to pretend to be human. On the other hand, Blue told you to act like a trainer and trainers are human. Plus, revealing what you are would probably cut into your training time a lot because Kris will probably either bombard you with questions or try to fight you with her bird. Gah. You don’t want to do this, but you don’t like pretending you can’t talk to Pokémon. Would one more try really hurt?

“Tutu,” you say, addressing the Natu on Kris’ shoulder, “tell me something only you and Kris know.”

“Me?” Tutu asks. “Hmm… Kris was the first person I saw after hatching, many many seasons ago. She thought I was a girl and called me one for almost a year before her mother finally corrected her.”

You snort.

“Tutu says you thought he was a girl when he hatched.”

“Wh-what!?” Kris says, looking terrified. “Wh… how did you…?”

“Mercury is psychic,” Silver grunts. “She’s probably just fucking with you.”

And here we go.

“I am not a telepath,” you protest.

“Oh yeah?” Silver asks. “I have no way to verify that. And even if it’s true, are you an augur? A seer? A clairvoyant? Maybe you are and you don’t even know it. No one knows what all your powers are, and you wouldn’t be the first to think their mystical powers stem from Pokémon communion. It’s all been debunked, though.”

“Y-yeah!” Kris says. “That’s right. That’s right! I’m sorry Mercury, but there’s just no way Pokémon can talk.”

“How do you put up with this?” you ask Tutu. “Being treated like an imbecile by your own trainer. I’m used to it, but it still bothers me.”

“I just don’t mind. That’s all there is to it.”

“Well that’s not a very helpful answer,” you grumble.

“He didn’t even say anything that time!” Kris insists.

“It’s not a purely verbal language!” you growl back. “Not even mostly! Your stupid overreliance on sound is why you people keep thinking you can lie to me face to face!”

“…Mercury, no one is lying to you right now.”

“I’m not… that’s not what I mean,” you hiss. “I didn’t say that. Why do you think that’s what I meant?”

“Mercury, there’s no need to raise your voice,” Kris says firmly.

“Yes there is! I’m allowed to speak my mind now, Blue said so! So why doesn’t anyone ever believe me!?”

Kris sends a look at Silver to request backup. He just grins, shrugs, and goes back to training his Cyndaquil. Kris takes a deep breath and starts talking to you slowly, like people do to children.

“…Mercury, if Pokémon are people with language, then what we’re doing to them is… well, it’s slavery. If we used a human anything like the way we use Pokémon on a daily basis, we’d be monsters. But Pokémon are, as best we can tell, just too simple to mind. And we do research these things. Every five or ten years there’s a new discovery about Pokémon interactions and intelligence and everyone has to scramble to make sure we haven’t been breaking some horrific moral imperative the whole time, but it doesn’t happen. Pokémon simply don’t seem to have their own goals or objectives. With a few notable exceptions for bad trainers, they like being captured and trained.”

“I know that,” you snap. “I never said they didn’t. I can talk to them, of course I know they don’t mind!”

“So you’re just saying that Pokémon are all intelligent people that just like being enslaved?”

“Yes!” you confirm, throwing your arms up in the air. “Exactly!”

“Ha!” Silver barks out a laugh. “Wow! That’s a fucking take!”

“Mercury, that’s horrifying,” Kris insists, her face blanching.”Slavery is wrong, Mercury. It’s beyond wrong. It’s one of the single worst things you can do to a person!”

“They don’t see it that way,” you insist, begging her to understand. “It’s a partnership. It’s our purpose. It’s what we were made for. When you catch a Pokémon, you show them you are worthy.”

“I’m sorry, Mercury, I don’t think I can subscribe to your fucked-up ‘Pokémon are people who want to be slaves’ theory,” Kris says, looking profoundly creeped out. “If you can’t understand why that makes you sound crazy, I don’t know what to tell you.”

You let out a loud growl before you can hold it back, your tail swishing furiously behind you underneath the illusion. You hate this. You hate this entire conversation.

“I’m NOT crazy,” you insist. “I know what I’m talking about! Pokémon don’t think like you! They aren’t human! Stop thinking about how a human would feel and just look!“

“Mercury, you can yell as loud as you want, but that doesn’t mean I have to believe you,” Kris says, crossing her arms over her chest.

She’s… she’s starting to regret bringing you here. She’s starting to regret trying to become your friend. She thinks the things you’re telling her are horrific and evil. She doesn’t. Understand. Any of it. And it infuriates you.

Out of all the human parts of your personality you could have kept, why did it have to be this? Why couldn’t you just be like Tutu and not care? This hurts. It hurts and you’re about to lose a friend over it. But you hate all the horrible things she’s saying! She’s wrong! She’s wrong and she won’t listen and you don’t know what to do!

“You don’t understand what you’re talking about,” you hiss. “You’re judging me and saying you know better but you don’t know anything!”

“Mercury, you’re the one being unreasonable here,” Kris insists. “Multiple studies have shown that Pokémon can be trained to understand simple instructions and convey simple concepts, but they don’t have anything approaching a language. You can’t just yell at me and expect me to ignore all that research. I have no reason to believe you over the vast majority of the scientific community.”

“Just quit while you’re behind, Mercury,” Silver grunts.

“You of all humans should actually believe me!” you snap, turning to shout at him.

“You seriously think all the shit you’ve done to me makes me think you’re less likely to be crazy?” Silver asks. “Fuck off.”

“What do you think I am, Silver?” you growl at him. “What do you want with me if you think Pokémon can’t talk?”

“They say Mewtwo could talk,” Silver shrugs. “Red still caught and used it. If he can, I can.”

“That Mewtwo thing is just a rumor, and even if it’s true it’d be a unique case anyway," Kris says, looking slightly lost but not one to miss out on a factual correction. "Mewtwo’s not a naturally-occurring Pokémon, it’s an illegal lab experiment.”

“I’m an illegal lab experiment!!!” you shout furiously.

Kris flinches at your outburst, then stares at you in shock as the words register. Silver clicks his tongue in disapproval, then returns to ignoring you. You… blush underneath your fur. Dang it. There goes your human trainer disguise.

“…I’m an illegal lab experiment,” you repeat, slowly and quietly this time. You let your illusion drop and Kris gasps, her hands moving up over her mouth. You swish your tail with embarrassment, unable to meet her eyes.

You don't want to look at her, because it will be too easy for you to see how she feels.

Chapter Text

“Holy Arceus,” Kris whispers. “What… you’re a Pokémon…?”

“I was born human,” you mumble.

“You’re human!?” Kris asks, even more incredulously. “No, wait. Of course you’re human. You train Pokémon. And the League, and custody, and Blue ‘saving you.’ Ohhh my gosh. Wow, it all makes sense now!”

“I’m not human,” you insist. “Not anymore. I understand Tutu a lot better than I understand you.”

“So that’s… that’s why you’re so insistent that Pokémon are people,” Kris says. “Because you kind of are one?”

Hesitantly, she walks a few steps forward, horror fighting against curiosity and losing.

“I don’t really think I’m a Pokémon or a human,” you admit. “I’m just… a freak.”

There isn't anywhere you really belong. You're too human to be a Pokémon, but you're too much of a Pokémon to fit in with humans. Wherever you go, you're met with resistance. Nothing quite fits. 

“Mercury, what… can I ask what happened? Is that okay?” Kris asks, her eyes examining you all over, from the claws on your fingers to the poof of chest fluff peeking up through the neck of your t-shirt.

You don't really want to talk about it, but thankfully you don't need to. 

“Team Rocket happened,” Silver answers for you. “A lot of the same people involved in the Mewtwo project wanted to see if they could give that kind of power to a human directly rather than risk creating another murderous, disobedient monster. Just cut out the middleman and become gods themselves. Mercury is one of the only surviving experiments.”

“So she’s like a superhuman?” Kris asks, reaching a hand out and then suddenly pulling it back. “Oh, uh, sorry Mercury. I guess this is pretty weird, but is it okay if I touch your fur?”

Wait, what? Curiosity and affection? You perk up slightly and nod. Kris’ prior animosity is almost completely dispersed, and though you’re not totally sure why it seems to be a combination of learning what you are and seeing what you look like? Which is strange! You were really scared of this going poorly and it seems to be going better instead!

“Go ahead,” you invite her, and she brushes her hand against your arm, letting your fur pass between her fingers. It's… nice. Being touched is more than a little bit complicated for you; there are times you really love it and times you really, really hate it. You'd enjoy hugging friendly Pokémon quite a bit if it didn't cause your cells to freak out and fall apart, but unfortunately it usually does. Fall is a pleasant exception. As for humans, well… it depends on the context. 

Contact generally wasn't good in that place, but it's been nice since you left. As long as no one wears gloves or holds needles. 

“Woah, you’re kind of cold,” Kris says, her face lighting up. “You feel like how a cloud looks. All fuzzy and wispy.”

“Thank you?” you guess. “I’m sorry, weren’t you very mad at me?”

“Uh…” Kris mumbles, awkwardly pulling her hand away. Aww. “I mean, I guess I’m still kind of upset that you yelled at me. No one likes being yelled at. It just, uh, seems like a pretty tiny thing compared to finding out you were kidnapped by Team Rocket and held in a lab. It puts a lot of stuff into perspective.”

“…Do you believe me about Pokémon being able to talk now?” you ask.

“Um…” Kris hesitates, clearly showing you the answer is no. Well, mostly no. She at least has a bit of doubt now.

“I’m not very good at explaining things anymore,” you tell her. “My brain is different. And Pokémon think differently from how humans do. Humans probably can’t document it because there isn’t… it’s not how things work? Um… you know how Pokémon are very good at understanding things humans tell them to do?”

“…Sure, yeah,” Kris nods slowly.

“That is how it is with everyone. Pokémon do not need to convey because Pokémon understand. They know what people want and feel by default. They know this with you and they know this with each other. I am not a telepath, but when I look at you your thoughts are on your face.”

…Though they usually just confuse you more. Kris is excited, intrigued, guilty, curious, worried, happy and just… how do humans feel all of that at once!? You used to be one and you still don’t get it.

“It’s just… it’s a bit hard to believe, I guess,” Kris says, glancing hesitantly at Tutu. “You can really talk with them? Wouldn’t that kind of turn our whole society on its head? Like, what sort of person would just spend their whole life happily following me around and doing everything I say? Tutu is happy, right?”

A quick look at the little bird on Kris’ shoulder is all you need to know the answer is yes. So you nod at her.

“He loves you,” you say.

“Yeah, okay, that's good. I mean, I thought so, but I’ve spent my whole life treating him like something I own,” Kris says fearfully. “He just does whatever I tell him to. I take that for granted, and I just… sure, he has a personality and quirks and likes and dislikes and stuff but there’s a difference between that and being a full on sophont, y’know? He’s just so… simple.”

You frown, confused.

“…Does a person have to be complicated?” you ask. “I just want to do what I’m told, too. But I guess I might not be a person?”

“What!?” Kris yelps. “Mercury, what do you mean? Of course you’re a person!”

You shake your head.

“I’m defective,” you tell her. “I was supposed to die, but I lived. Even though my brain got turned into Pokémon cells. Now I can’t think right anymore. It’s hard to pretend to be human. But I’m not allowed to be a Pokémon. I’m nothing.”

“Oh, Arceus,” Kris breathes. “Mercury, no…”

You don’t say anything. This is how most humans react and it just sort of happens no matter what you say. Kris does reach out to hug you, which is an uncommon reaction but at least a pleasant one. Tutu hops onto her head to avoid touching you when he senses your apprehension against contact with another Pokémon, but the contact from Kris is nice. You give her a quick nuzzle, which she giggles a little at. 

“Of course you’re a person, Mercury,” Kris promises. “You’re a human person and I would be happy to help you in whatever way you need.”

That’s awfully kind of her. You appreciate the altruism. But for some reason, the words don’t make you feel good at all. Even worse, Kris interprets your increasing discomfort as a desire to end the hug in that bafflingly human way and releases you.

“Sorry,” she says about the wrong thing. “I shouldn’t… I mean, we barely even know each other. You probably never wanted to tell me any of this in the first place.”

“Not really,” you agree, shrugging. “But you were being very annoying.”

She manages a humorless laugh at that.

“I… I’m still not sure what to think about our whole argument,” Kris admits. “But you can definitely consider me shaken. I’ll think about it, okay?”

Hrm. That’s still a pretty frustrating answer. Thinking about it isn’t believing it. But… you don’t think she’s just writing you off this time. And it’s definitely a better answer than you usually get, so…

“Okay,” you nod.

“Oi, ghost girl!” an unexpected voice suddenly barks at you. You turn to face Silver’s Sneasel, who is pointing over where Winter is fighting some wild Pokémon. “If you can really tell my idiot what I’m saying, tell him I’m bored. I want to train on my own like your dumb fuzzball is doing.”

“Dumb fuzzball!?” Winter protests, panting as she dodges a Hoppip’s tackle.

Hrm. Well. It’s a reasonable request.

“Silver, your Sneasel would like to train on his own while you are busy,” you announce. “He’s likely more than capable of managing himself if he stays nearby.”

“Is that right,” Silver grunts noncommittally.

“And tell him to feed me something better than fucking Oran berry ice cream too!” Sneasel growls. “Give me a Cheri! Or a Figy! Or a Tomato!”

“Next time you get ice cream he also wants Cheri, Figy, or Tomato,” you translate.

“Nobody makes ice cream in those flavors,” Silver grunts. “Those are all spicy berries. Who the fuck wants spicy ice cream, dumbass?”

“I do!” Sneasel growls.

“Hey, um, Silver?” Kris asks hesitantly. “Does your Sneasel normally like spicy food?”

“Huh?” Silver asks. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

“Did Mercury have some way to know that beforehand?”

Silver sighs.

“I already told you. She’s psychic. Significantly more powerful a psychic than a human could be. Who even knows all the ways she could figure that out?”

“…What if she’s right, though?” Kris asks.

Silver groans, waiting for Cyndaquil to knock out a Mareep before recalling him and turning to face us.

“If she’s right, it doesn’t matter,” he says bitterly. “Because then the goalpost just moves anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Kris asks.

“I mean, what happens if a study comes out and proves she’s right? Scientists figure out Pokémon have language. They crack it, it’s irrefutable, Pokémon can talk to each other. Bam. What actually happens?”

“I… I mean presumably…”

“What happens is that it doesn’t matter. Pokémon have a rudimentary language! How interesting! No tool use more complex than a fucking bone and a leek though, so still not people probably. Everyone carry on as before!”

“You really think this wouldn’t matter?” Kris asks. “If Mercury is right and we can talk to them, then that’s huge!”

“We can’t talk to them,” Silver corrects. “Mercury can talk to them. Maybe. If she can’t teach anyone, that hardly affects how society works. And society runs on Pokémon. They build our houses, they power our electricity, they provide our food, they protect our cities. We can’t live in a world where we aren’t using Pokémon to make everything function, so everyone’s gonna find some way to believe it’s okay to keep doing that. That’s just how people are. Besides, if Mercury is telling the truth and not crazy, Pokémon wanna live in balls and do our bidding anyway, so who gives a shit?”

Kris doesn’t seem to like any of that at all, but she doesn’t seem to have much to say in response. You, conversely, are done with this conversation and then some.

“Can I train Fall now?” you ask, exasperated. “I’m supposed to be acting like a trainer.”

“I… sure, Mercury,” Kris says. “Sorry again.”

You shrug and start instructing Fall in the art of projectile interception, starting slow with one shot of Psychic energy at a time and letting him get a feel for the kind of power he’ll need to output. You mostly tend to use projectile interception as a last resort, something desperate to protect yourself when you’re too injured to dodge, but Fall has to use it as a primary means of defense, meaning that sustainability and precision are far more important for him than they are for you.

The point of fighting this way will be to force the opponent to approach by expending less energy to defend than they have to expend to attack. The main problem with this strategy is that it only works if Fall can either completely avoid taking hits or at least hit his opponent more than they hit him, and that’s… not really a strategy, per se? It’s just compensating for the fact that Fall lacks the basic locomotion of other Pokémon and has to fight despite that handicap.

Though it is, you admit, somewhat of an interesting problem. And you’re not really sure what to think of that.

Humans solve problems. It’s what they’re good at. When a Pokémon is hungry, they go find food. When a human is hungry, they sometimes go find food but they also sometimes invent agriculture. It’s the same thing with battling. Even Fighting-type Pokémon need humans to teach them martial arts or really come up with any nuanced techniques beyond their instincts. And while you struggle to do most human things, you can still easily understand battling.

It makes sense. If you didn’t have a talent for battling, you’d probably be dead. Your day-to-day back at that place was getting tested, getting experimented on, and then either fighting other Pokémon or getting vivisected. The fights, therefore, were very much the good days, even when you were bleeding or disabled or so exhausted you couldn’t even tell what you were looking at.

Fighting makes sense to you. You needed to be good at it, but you also enjoy being good at it. It was one of the few things your Master would praise you over, even if only slightly. Perhaps it’s that enjoyment that helped you keep whatever part of your humanity helps you plot and practice ever-more-efficient ways to destroy your enemies.

And so you and Fall practice into the night, his impressive stamina allowing him to continue firing Pin Missiles far longer than you expect. It really is the best defense available for him, at least for now. You’ll have to see what other ranged techniques he’ll be able to learn.

Eventually, though, your team gets tired. Winter exhausts herself first, returning to you probably only a single attack away from icing up her own throat again. You approve of her dedication. Fall makes significant progress, but it’s not the sort of skill you can master in a day. It’s fine, though. You enjoy training him. At least there’s one normal thing you enjoy.

…Although you suppose most trainers don’t train their Pokémon by shooting psychic bolts or clawing at them from underground with solidified malice. It still works, though. You really enjoyed getting so much time without your illusion up, too. Having it on all the time feels like you’re getting a cramp in your brain. Unfortunately, it’s time to head back to town, so you do have to weave it back together and let it settle over your fur like snot dripping from a nose.

“Hey, um, Mercury,” Kris says hesitantly. “How do you do that, anyway?”

“I’m part Zorua,” you answer, shrugging. “An ancient Ghost-type Zorua, apparently.”

“Huh. Okay. I noticed your tail and ears look like an Eevee’s, too.”

“Yes, apparently my body also needed Eevee and Mew genetics to help with transition and stabilization,” you shrug. “I do not know the science behind my creation and I would be more comfortable if no one else did, either.”

“Oh,” Kris says, embarrassed and guilty. “Right, that makes sense. Sorry. I just… you’re really interesting. I feel like a bad person for wanting to pry, though.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug again. “I can stop a hyper beam, but I can’t stop human curiosity.”

“Ha! Yeah, I guess… wait, you can stop a hyper beam?”

“She’s Ghost and Psychic type,” Silver butts in. “Fast, good offenses all around, but pretty frail for how hard she hits.”

“My energy barrier is weak,” you agree with a nod. “It’s due to my body’s instability. Even touching another Pokémon can damage it, as well as cause me… physiological issues.”

“She’s still got an energy barrier, though. Put her in a room of armed humans and she’d slaughter them all,” Silver smirks. “Drink their life force dry.”

“Unfortunately, despite being a ghost, I can’t do that,” you admit, wrinkling your nose in annoyance. “I can extract human life force, but digesting it is mostly just painful.”

Silver gives you a startled look, having apparently been joking. Kris looks horrified. You sigh.

“…I have no reason to do that,” you assure them. “I’m just saying I can.”

If you could grow stronger by consuming human life force like other ghosts can, that might be different, but as-is it’s just a very inefficient method of killing someone.

Besides, breaking the energy barriers of other Pokémon would probably be the fastest way to grow anyway. When a barrier is shattered and a Pokémon is knocked unconscious, all that delicious energy scatters around the battlefield, free for absorption. The battle area you fought in at that place devoured most of that energy before you could integrate it, though, leaving you intentionally weak.

You have far, far more battle experience than a Pokémon of your strength should have. You don’t really consider this a good thing; while it means you’re quite a bit stronger than you seem to be by pure energy level, raw power is extremely important. You’re able to use your skill and experience to punch above your weight class, but it certainly isn’t safe to try.

It makes sense that they limited your growth like that, though. You absolutely would have killed them if you were strong enough. You didn’t stand a chance against your master’s Houndoom, though. Not to mention…

The memory of stone scraping against metal echoes in your mind, the horrible nightmares and constant pressure ensuring you would never, ever escape. Always watching, always there. Stone on metal. Even the thought of the sound is like claws against your spine.

You shake the memories away as you, Silver, and Kris make it to the Pokémon center. You give the Nurse Joy your Pokéballs and thankfully are not interrogated about abuse this time.

As you wait for them to be healed, you figure you have time for one more thing before you head to bed.

“Hello?” the familiar voice crackles through your Pokégear.

“Hello Blue,” you greet him.

Chapter Text

“Mercury!” Blue exclaims happily, the sound causing you to squirm with an unexpected burst of contentment. “Hey kiddo, how are you doing? Journey going okay?”

“Yes. I am in Violet City. I intend to leave for Goldenrod tomorrow.”

“Ah, you don’t have to rush if you don’t want to, Mercury,” Blue says. “Bill will be in Johto for months, at least. He’s helping take care of his mom.”

“That is good to know,” you tell him. “I was concerned by the unclear time limit.”

“Ah… sorry about that, Mercury,” he says, sounding genuinely contrite. “You don’t have to worry about time, I promise. In fact, I’d recommend detouring to Azalea Town rather than heading right towards Goldenrod. It’s a rougher and longer path, but it’s a lot safer. The League is still securing control of Route 36 and Pokémon haven’t learned to keep away from it yet.”

You doubt that would be much trouble for you, but if Blue says you should go to Azalea you will go to Azalea.

“Okay, Blue,” you tell him.

“How are you handling the journey so far?” he asks. “You’re not overwhelmed, are you? Your aunt was concerned about you being around strangers.”

“I am okay,” you tell him. “I think I made a human friend, maybe? Her name is Kris. We are going to challenge the gym tomorrow.”

“No sh—uh, no kidding? Wow! That’s great! I hope you enjoy it!”

You will try to enjoy it.

“I have been told Winter will do well,” you say.

“Ha! Yeah, that little runt will destroy Falkner’s zero-badge team. Is Winter treating you alright?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “She is motivated and her growth is satisfying. A competent subordinate.”

“Hah, that’s good to hear. Don’t just think of her as a subordinate, though. Pokémon are our partners. It’s important to respect them.”

You frown slightly. You’re certainly inclined to agree with that in principle. In practice, however, you have very little idea what that means or how to do it. Respect is… a foreign concept to you. It’s hard not to think of it as an equivalent to worthiness, but that sort of worthiness is a concept fundamental to your Pokémon brain and definitely isn’t the human concept Blue is referring to.

“I will try, but I am not sure I am doing it right,” you admit. “I have already made a number of mistakes. I overworked Winter and Nurse Joy was unhappy with me.”

“Uh… huh,” Blue says. “What happened, exactly?”

“Her throat almost froze shut.”

There’s a pause on the line. You’re terrified of what Blue will think of you for this, but not admitting this to him was never an option. Hiding things never works. They always find out and then you suffer for your wrongdoing and for hiding it.

“…Why did you work her that hard?” Blue asks slowly.

“I felt it was important for both of us to be aware of her limits, and for her to have experience battling while at the edge of those limits,” you report. “Collecting that information as early as possible helps me plan further training regimens and judge combat matchups more accurately. It did not occur to me that doing so would be wrong.”

“…I see,” Blue says. “Well, your motivation isn't bad, but do you understand why that was wrong now?”

“Because it risked permanent damage to vulnerable parts of Winter’s biology,” you answer succinctly.

Blue sighs.

“That’s… not untrue,” he hedges. “I’m sorry, Mercury. Red and I just threw ourselves into it and I told myself it would be good for you to have something a bit more open-ended to do, but really I was just busy. I should have made time to teach you better. Your situation is unique and I failed to properly consider that.”

“You have done nothing wrong,” you tell him firmly.

“Yeah, well, I can always do better,” Blue answers. “You be careful, okay? There’s been a lot of Team Rocket sightings in Johto lately. We still haven’t caught Giovanni, but it looks like he’s making his move. You call me if you ever need help.”

“I will,” you promise. “I will not let myself get captured by Team Rocket.”

“Good,” Blue says approvingly. “Your safety is priority one, okay Mercury?”

Your safety is priority one. You wiggle happily.

“Okay, Blue.”

“Great. Awesome. Well, I should get going, Mercury. But you should call me and let me know how your gym battle turns out! I’ll probably have some time tomorrow night.”

“Okay,” you promise. “I will do that.”

“Talk to you then, kiddo. You’re doing great. You and your friend help each other out, okay? I know all of this is a lot for you, but if you’re ever overwhelmed or don’t understand something, that’s the best time to get a friend. It took me too long to learn that.”

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll ask for help when I need it. Good night, Blue.”

“Good night, Mercury.”

Well. That was a good talk. You feel a lot better, and you’re glad Kris still seems to want to be friends with you. Silver doesn’t seem like he’d be very helpful. You suppose it’s unlike you to not tell Blue about Silver, but you don’t feel all that good about the idea. After all, Silver isn’t really your friend as much as he is someone you think might become worthy of catching you. And while that’s important, it’s not something you get the impression Blue would… approve of.

That’s troubling. You do not like the idea of doing things Blue wouldn’t approve of. He is the most worthy. But… he also doesn’t want you to focus on following his orders. He wants you to be in charge of yourself.

And there are things about that you really like! You like training Fall and Winter. You like seeing them grow. You especially like winning. None of this is possible if you’re caught. You can’t be someone else’s Pokémon and a Pokémon trainer. You wish there was a way to do both, but there isn’t.

With those thoughts on your mind, you hang up the phone, collect your Pokéballs, and go to sleep.

The next morning, you are ready. You buy what battle items you can from the store. You have Winter stretch her body and Fall touch up his shell. Today you will crush Falkner and claim his pathetic badge as your own.

…So now you are sitting, bored, in the waiting room. Kris hasn’t emerged from her fight yet, and while you imagine it’s going fine, you have no way to watch. You’re stuck in the waiting room and zero-badge challenges are not televised. Eventually, though, Kris emerges, busting into the room with a huge grin on her face and a shiny badge in one hand.

“I did it!” she declares. “Tutu, Reeree and I have earned ourselves the Zephyr Badge!”

“Good job,” you nod seriously. Truly, she must have actually performed quite well. She feels more worthy than before. 

Kris pouts a little anyway. 

“Geez, Mercury!” you can be a little happy for me!”

You tilt your head, confused.

“But I am happy for you?” you say honestly. “I’m sorry. I am trying to look happy.”

“Um. Oh. Smile a little, maybe?”

You give your best smile and twist your illusion to copy it.

“Oh, uh. Um. I’m sorry, Mercury, but that just looks creepy,” Kris tells you. “It looks really unnatural.”

“Well, is unnatural,” you remind her, “so that is only reasonable. I don’t remember how to smile correctly on purpose. When it happens, it just happens.”

“A-ah. Right. Sorry, Mercury.”

“It’s okay,” you shrug.

“Appointment for Mercury?” a woman’s voice asks, sticking her head through the door. “Falkner is ready for you.”

“Oh woah, that was fast,” Kris says. “Good luck in there, Mercury!”

“Luck inevitably fails,” you tell her. “Wish me skill.”

“Heh, okay,” Kris grins. “Good skill, Mercury.”

“Thank you, Kris. I will use it.”

You follow the woman who called your name through an impressive set of doors, which close behind you. Another set of doors is in front of you, and when they open moments later you are flooded with a staggering, invigorating sensation.

FLYING.

Wind and air and sky and groundlessness. The air seeps with it, vibrant and turbulent and thick enough to make your skin crawl and your shoulder blades itch. It’s both painful and cathartic, like rubbing a cramped muscle.

You’re so overwhelmed by the concentration of energy that it takes you a while to notice, but the physical room itself is no less impressive. It’s far taller than you expected, a constant swirl of wind storming throughout the interior of the room. Transparent glass platforms devoid of guardrails rise up and down, seemingly pushed by geysers of pressurized air, and at the very top of the room is the largest platform of all. Floating stationary, you can tell at a glance that the gym leader waits there for you because you can feel his worthiness from all the way down here.

And you will get to fight him.

A real smile parts your face, unbidden and uncontrolled. From the way the attendant stares at you, you suspect it probably still looks creepy.

“So, um, this gym has two pathways,” she says. “The stairs around the room perimeter are a longer route, and you’ll have to fight gym trainers to progress. Alternatively, you can brave the skies and cross our floating platforms, but if you fall you forfeit this attempt. It’s up to you if you’d rather face the obstacles or the trainers.”

You nod, and immediately walk towards the air geysers. With all the Flying thrumming in your cells, the thought of not getting shot haphazardly into the sky is making you vaguely queasy. This is almost like being near an evolution stone, although nowhere near as bad. You’ll be able to handle this concentration of energy for at least a few hours before it starts getting painful.

You leap onto the first platform right as it blasts up into the sky, taking another jump just before its apex to reach the next. The unstable footing is a bit of a rush, but it’s certainly not harder than fighting over an Earthquake or Magnitude attack. And even with the way your body keeps reaching out for, attempting to integrate, and ultimately being damaged by all this Flying energy, it’s not as painful either.

Falkner claps slowly as you land on his platform, which you see now is also marked to be used as the battle arena. He waits in his trainer box.

“Impressive jumping!” he compliments you. “You might actually have one of the fastest times! You’re quite the athlete.”

“What happens if I jump off?” you ask, peeking over the edge.

“Uh, other than losing, you mean?” Falkner asks. “Don’t worry. The air currents will catch you before you go splat, and my Pokémon will retrieve you.”

“If I beat you and then jump off on purpose, do I still lose?” you ask.

Falkner grins at that.

“Nope! Feel free to take a celebratory jump if you win. Kinda putting the cart before the Mudsdale though, aren’t you?”

You step into the Trainer box and release both Winter and Fall into it with you.

“It was just a question,” you say. “If I lose the battle, I’m still jumping off.”

“Haha! I think I like you, challenger. Let’s figure out the battle’s conclusion then, shall we?”

He snaps his fingers, and the rush of air in the building moves, changing direction to blow from behind Falkner. The whole battlefield gets even further saturated with Flying, an energized rush that heavily favors Falkner’s side of the field. His Pokémon will be able to use the energy to move substantially faster than they would otherwise.

Your Pokédex chimes helpfully, informing you that the human name for this technique is “Tailwind.” Setting up favorable conditions before the fight even starts, hmm? Well, you suppose it is a gym challenge, not a gym honorable duel. Conditions are often unfavorable in real fights anyway.

“Double blind!” the referee shouts from off the side of the field. “Pokémon out in three, two, one…!”

“Now,” you say in time with the referee, and Winter bolts onto the field, firing a burst of Ice from her mouth at the Pidgey that just materialized. With the Tailwind boosting it, the Pidgey manages to counter with a Gust before Winter’s attack hits, but it is of no avail. The Powder Snow still hits dead-on, knocking the Pidgey out in a single blow as Winter dodges the Gust. A flawless knockout.

Falkner whistles approvingly.

“KO!” the referee declares, and Falkner recalls the unconscious Pidgey to its ball. “Single blind, challenger uses Vulpix! Three, two, one—”

“Go, Noctowl!” Falkner shouts, releasing his second Pokémon onto the field, this one significantly more powerful than the first. “Use Confusion!”

You say nothing, your arms crossed. Winter knows what to do. Staying on the defensive is difficult with the Noctowl’s increased speed, though. Winter probably won’t realize she can mitigate Tailwind’s advantage by sticking closer to your side of the field, where it’s weaker. You aren’t going to tell her, though. This will be a good challenge. She and the Noctowl trade blows for a while, but despite its speed advantage, Winter’s super-effective attacks and wide-spraying Powder Snow manage to bring down the Noctowl even with the wind at its back.

“KO!” the referee announces. “Leader Falkner is out of—”

“Hold on!” Falkner calls. “Referee, I’m bringing a third to this battle, I think.”

“Sir?” the ref asks. “Isn’t this zero-badge?”

“Yes, but I think this trainer requires a more appropriate challenge,” the leader smirks. “I take pride in my work; I’m not sure I can let myself lose to a girl who doesn’t even feel the need to give her team orders.”

The ref looks surprised, but nods. Seems like this wasn’t part of the battle plan, but Falkner’s gym, Falkner’s rules, you suppose. You have no issue with this. It’s a battle. Fairness does not exist. So you say nothing and just give Falkner a nod.

“Grand!” Falkner grins. “I’ve been training this guy up to be a two-badger, so he’s not at that level yet so he should be good for pushing you a little. It’s no fun if you don’t have to earn it, don’t you think?”

“Single blind!” the referee shouts. “The challenger uses Vulpix! Three, two, one—”

“Go, Skarmory!” Falkner shouts, and a screaming mass of metal feathers bursts onto the battlefield. “Use Steel Wing!”

Oh. Shoot. That Pokémon is strong against Ice, not to mention strong in general. Winter probably can’t fight that by herself. …And you’re kind of tempted to fight it personally.

Buuuut you shouldn't do that. You have other strategies to exhaust first. 

“WINTER!” you bark. “RETURN!”

“What!?” she protests, though she does properly stop attacking. Good. “I’ve got this!”

You grab Fall and chuck him onto the battlefield anyway, recalling Winter to her ball the moment his body crosses onto the field. Fall hits the ground and rolls, the Skarmory’s attention twisting his way as Winter disappears in a flash of light.

“Four times as much power!” you tell Fall. Any ranged attacks coming his way are liable to be Flying-type, which is strong against Bug, rather than the Psychic-type moves you were using to train him, which are weak against Bug. Thus, he’ll have to use a lot more power to block any given attack.

And sure enough, Falkner is smart enough to have his Skarmory keep distance against your bomb.

“Use Air Cutter!” he orders, and Skarmory flaps its wings, charging the area around it with Flying energy and sending it towards your Pineco as transparent slicing blades.

You don’t tell Fall what to do for now, instead just trusting him to block as best he can. Instead, you release Winter at your feet so you can talk to her within the trainer box.

“What the heck was that for!?” she protests immediately. “I had that!”

She probably didn’t, but you’re not interested in arguing the point.

“Prepare to go back out there,” you tell her instead. “And stay close to me when you do. The wind is on their side.”

“I know that! But my attacks don’t go far enough!”

“I’ll tell you what to do,” you promise. “Rest for now.”

You return your focus to the battle, watching with significant satisfaction as Fall manages to hold off the attacks of his foe, even at significant disadvantage. His own attacks connect against the Skarmory for almost completely negligible damage; both Pokémon will likely run out of energy from simple exhaustion before Fall knocks out the dramatically Bug-resistant Skarmory with Bug attacks. But that’s okay; you doubt your opponent has the glacial patience required to endure playing as slow and safe as possible against an opponent that they have an overwhelming advantage against.

“Impressive defenses!” Falkner compliments. “But let’s see you block this! Drill Peck, Skarmory!”

You grin. And there it is.

“Protect!” you order, and as the rapidly-spinning Skarmory crashes into Fall beak-first, an energy barrier flashes up to defend him for the split-second needed to follow up.

“Selfdestruct.”

A massive explosion rocks the arena at your order, deafening you for a few moments as high-energy shrapnel blasts in every direction. The trainer boxes are protected somehow, but Skarmory is subjected to the full force of the blast head-on.

Your hearing returns and the dust settles. Fall is unconscious, every last shred of his power used up in a single blow. The Skarmory, meanwhile, still stands. Damaged, certainly, but it stands.

“KO!” the referee declares. “Single blind! Leader Falkner uses Skarmory! Three, two, one—”

“Go, Winter,” you order, and the Skarmory launches into the air, making space and firing off another Air Cutter as it retreats back to the high-speed tailwind zone.

“Your Vulpix is pretty fast,” Falkner calls out. “But it’s nowhere near fast enough to dodge my Skarmory at close range when backed up by Tailwind. One Steel Wing is all I need. And your Ice attacks can’t reach from there. So what are you going to do?”

“Winter,” you order, “use Spite.”

“What?” she asks. “I can’t even hurt anyone that way yet. I tried.”

The way the Pokémon language interprets the human names for attacks is interesting to you. You suspect that most human-Pokémon pairs struggle to establish a common understanding of these names because the way humans categorize them differs from the way Pokémon do, but you have the advantage of being able to purposefully speak in both languages at once. When you say the human words ‘use Spite,’ you know that Winter hears it as ‘curse them to suffer.’

Vulpix, Alolan and otherwise, are neither Ghost-type nor Psychic-type, but they share more similarities with you than just fur color. They also attack with emotion, manipulating Ghost and Psychic energy to enact harmful effects on their foes. And while it’s true that Winter cannot yet use her inborn power to damage energy barriers, you know what she can do with it, and it’s often just as insidiously dangerous.

“Spite!” you order again, and she acquiesces, her eyes glowing with a malevolent energy that needs no projectile to surround and claw at Skarmory. Sure enough, no damage is dealt, but Skarmory still flinches. The next Air Cutter sent Winter’s way leaks energy like crazy, bloated and unstable as the curse tears it apart.

Of course, it would still hurt just as hard if Winter got hit by it, but it took way more energy than usual to make and as far away as Winter is she can avoid it easily. A couple repetitions of this, and the Skarmory will be worn out from harnessing Flying energy and might start to hurt itself if it keeps going.

“Oh?” Falkner calls. “You want me to Steel Wing your Ice-type? Well, if you insist! Skarmory, move in and Steel Wing!”

Ah. Well, that makes things easier. All you wanted was for the Skarmory to have to approach Winter rather than the reverse.

“Powder Snow!” you order Winter. “And do not get hit, or you lose.”

“Roger!” Winter confirms.

You don’t say anything else from there, because there is nothing for you to do. You just cross your arms and wait, Winter and the Skarmory engaging in a dangerous dance as the metallic blade bird shrieks towards your side of the field, wings glowing with Steel energy particularly dangerous to Winter. It crashes straight through Winter’s frigid breath attack, the Ice eating away at its defenses but not enough to put it down. With a resounding crash, the Skarmory’s wing smashes into the floor as Winter barely dodges to the side, letting out another Powder Snow to chip away yet more health.

Dodge, strike, dodge, strike. Winter avoids her foe by a hair’s breadth and counters, again and again. You frown as one of the Skarmory’s attacks does connect, sending her flying across the arena and nearly knocking her out in a single blow. But Winter knows her limits, and she knows how to fight while those limits are tested. So she gets up and attacks again. Your frown becomes a smile, and you nod approvingly.

To give up is to die. Her determination will serve her well. The Skarmory is also flagging, Winter’s repeated assault finally bringing it to the brink.

“Just one more hit, Skarmory!” Falkner calls. “The Vulpix is almost down! Use Swift!”

You quirk your head to the side. Swift? Oh, wait, you’ve felt this energy configuration before. The homing projectile attack that doesn’t work on you. Well, it would certainly be a problem for Winter. She probably can’t dodge it. Thankfully, she doesn’t need to.

“Ice Shard,” you order. “Finish it.”

Winter breathes another burst of Ice, but rather than the wide-spraying cone of frost she normally uses, a single, concentrated shot fires out of her mouth like a bullet, crashing into Skarmory before it can finish using its attack. It’s the last straw for the battered bird’s barrier, and the energy protecting it shatters into delicious raw power, which Winter happily absorbs.

“KO!” the referee calls. “Leader Falkner’s Pokémon are unable to battle! The challenger wins!”

Mmm, a close fight. It looked fun. You give Winter an approving nod as she bounces around excitedly, cheering at her own accomplishments.

“Yeah! Yeah, I did it! You see that, boss? He was like SWOOSH and I was like, nuh-uh! And so he was like wha-bam! But I dodged out of the way and got him like blaaaaagh!”

“You did well,” you agree. “We will have to thank Fall when he wakes up, too. He did about half the work for you.”

“Oh, uh… I mean, I guess his big kaboom was neat. But I was still really cool!”

“You are very cool,” you assure her.

“Excellent job, challenger Mercury!” Falkner calls, approaching you as he recalls the unconscious Skarmory. “You went above and beyond, and even reversed a bad type matchup. You’ve more than earned your first badge: the Zephyr Badge!”

“I didn’t really do anyth—”

You start to protest how it was Winter and Fall who won, not you, but your words are caught in your throat as an unexpected burst of Worthiness steals them away. In Falkner’s hand is a stone filled with Flying, carved in the pattern of two wings, and it sings to you of having seen a hundred thousand battles. Power, wisdom, expertise, experience, Worthiness. You want to obey this stone. But of course, it has no orders for you.

“…What?” you whisper, confused.

“Uh, it’s your gym badge,” Falkner chuckles awkwardly. “Y’know, the thing you get for beating me? Congratulations!”

Mutely, you reach out and accept it. The Flying tingles in your hand, making your cells twitch, but you quickly slot the badge into the back of your trainer card and put it away. The feeling of Worthiness fades, seeming to emanate instead off of you. How does… what is…?

“I’m genuinely impressed,” Falkner continues. “I think I’ll have to put you on the watch list!”

“…The what?” you ask, your mind still racing with questions but not so much that you don’t notice how that sounds bad.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad,” Falkner reassures you. “It’s just a list of promising-looking trainers we share around with the other gym leaders. It’s basically just a heads-up to put a little more effort into the recording, because you’re gonna be fun to watch. If you make it to four or more badges, your fights might start to get televised live.”

Hmm. Nope. Still sounds bad.

“…Could I instead not be on this list?” you ask.

“More the private type, huh?” Falkner says. “Well, sorry, but the League gets a pretty significant chunk of revenue from these events. Our right to use the record of your battles is in the contract. We just don’t tend to televise zero-badge fights because no one wants to see them. I mean, come on, my first Pokémon was a Pidgey.”

“Hrm,” you grumble. “I am going to jump off the edge now.”

“Haha! Hold up, one more thing!” Falkner insists, handing you a small white disc. “As thanks for putting up with my whims, and congratulations for winning despite them, I want you to have this. It’s a Technical Machine for Aerial Ace.”

“Technical Machine?” you ask.

“Uh, do you not know? A Technical Machine, or TM, will let you teach a move to a Pokémon that it can’t normally learn. You just place it against them and follow the instructions. Not every TM works for every Pokémon, of course! And once you use a TM, the energy inside it is expended.”

You bring your new TM up to your nose and sniff it. Huh. It does smell vaguely Flying. Probably. The whole dang room is saturated with Flying. You wonder how it works.

“Thanks,” you say, and then you recall Winter and jump off a cliff.

The thrumming energy in the gym has been begging you to leap into the wind, and the euphoric release when you finally leap off and feel it all rush through your fur in freefall is intoxicating. Your whole body thrums with potential, twitching painfully under your skin. Flying? it asks. Are we Flying? Is this us? Is it time?

But then you’re brought to a stop by the rushing upward current. A Pidgeotto not unlike the one Winter just defeated flies over to you, but you bark at it to go away, angling your body to move you over to the wall where you can get yourself back on solid ground. Despite having not exerted yourself at all, you feel a deep ache through your muscles and bones and you hoist yourself out of the wind pit and onto solid ground. From there, you trudge out of the gym.

“Mercury, hey!” Kris greets you, waving and running over the moment you step outside. “You were in there a while! Everything go okay?”

“Yes,” you nod. “I won. Falkner apparently decided to use a Pokémon he normally doesn’t.”

“Oh, nice! So you got the badge? Show me, show me!”

You frown but acquiesce, pulling your trainer card out of your pocket and flipping the back to face her. The simmering Worthiness still seeps off it, and it seeps off Kris as well. Was the source not her victory, but just her badge? You don't know. Kris didn't used to have any badges, but she was always kind of worthy; it didn’t really change her background feeling of worthiness as much as it did yours. …Although that just adds its own set of questions, really.

“What are badges, Kris?” you ask.

“Huh?” she says. “I don’t know. They’re something the League makes, I guess. They supposedly have some mystical effects, like making Pokémon stronger and more likely to obey you, but I’m not sure if that’s just a rumor or not.”

Stronger, huh? You press your thumb on the badge, feeling the energy pulsing within.

“It’s not,” you say. “Just holding one of these makes someone feel like they’d be a better master.”

Is this part of why you’re okay with the idea of Silver training you? He said he already had one badge. He’s not strong enough to be your master yet, but it’s that yet part which is niggling at you, all of a sudden. Will he feel worthy after two badges? After three? Will that actually reflect his true Worthiness? What even is Worthiness? You’ve never asked yourself that question before, never even thought about it, but all of a sudden it seems rather pertinent.

“A better master?” Kris asks you. You’re not sure you want to try explaining it to her after you just figured out you don’t really know what it means, so you change the subject and pull out your new TM.

“Falkner gave me this,” you tell her. “What should I do with it?”

“Oooh, a TM?” she coos. “Gym leaders only give those people they’re really impressed by. Nice one, Mercury! What move does it give?”

“He said it was called Aerial Ace.”

“Oh hey, that’s a good one! Very fast and accurate. I’m jealous! I would have really liked to give that to Tutu. Shame you got it and not me, I’m not sure either of your Pokémon can actually learn it.”

You stare at the strange human device in thought.

“…I wonder if I can use it.”

Chapter Text

Kris blinks with surprise.

“Er. I don’t think it would let you?" she says, staring at the TM. "It scans the target beforehand and won’t activate if you attempt to use it on a human.”

You fiddle with the device a little, turning it over in your claws as you wander towards the Pokémon Center, Kris following you.

“…I am not human,” you remind her. “How do I activate it?”

“You were born human!” Kris protests. “But there’s no harm in trying it, I guess? It just isn’t going to let you. The activation button is right there. Hold it steady over part of your body. Uh, I guess you’re supposed to put it close to the head of a Pokémon wherever possible?”

“If it doesn’t work I’ll just give it to you,” you shrug. It’s a curiosity more than anything. Maybe a bit of that lingering Flying energy you took in at the gym is still messing with your head, but you’d enjoy being able to use Aerial Ace. It would be neat if you could learn new attacks this easily in general, really.

So you put the TM to your head and hold the activation button. You feel a pulse of energy wash over your body, echoing out and teasing your energy barrier, but when the pulse hits your necklace it twitches and fizzles out. A light on the TM blinks red, the words ‘no target found’ blinking on its side.

“See?” Kris shrugs. “Doesn’t work.”

You frown and pull your necklace off with one hand.

“Hold this,” you tell Kris. “Don’t lose it.”

She accepts it in her hands with a confused expression and you place the TM to your head again. Again, the pulse flows around your body, making your toes tingle as it reaches all the way around you and returns to the TM device. The light turns solid green. ‘Compatibility detected: unknown target.’

Well, look at that. Neat.

“No way,” Kris whispers as you bring the TM away from your head and hold your hand out for your necklace. Wordlessly, she returns it to you, and you put it back on. It’s probably smarter to not use this in public. You’re not sure how your body will react to a direct energy injection, but it doubtlessly won't be pleasant. No sense screaming in public.

“I’ll use this when we’re alone,” you tell Kris, and pocket the TM. She nods dumbly. You suppose, now that you think of it, that she’s seen your real body but she hasn’t seen you fight. You launched a few telekinetic attacks at Fall with her nearby, but that’s the kind of thing a powerful human psychic could also do. She really doesn’t understand the full extent of what you are.

Oh, well. There will be opportunities to show her, if the two of you remain friends. Er, wait, actually…

“Kris, are we friends?” you ask.

She jolts with surprise.

“Um, sure!” she nods. “Yeah, if you want to be.”

Oh, okay. Neat.

“I am going to Azalea town next, and then Goldenrod,” you tell her. “Would you like to travel with me?”

“Oh, uh, alright!” Kris nods. “I mean, I’m taking the gym challenge, so I was going to do the same! Though, would you be okay with a quick detour on the way?”

“Where to?” you ask. You’re not under a strict time limit, so it’s probably fine.

“I wanna check out the Ruins of Alph!” Kris grins. “They’ve started up tours recently. It’s some kind of super weird Ancients ruin!”

“Ancients?” you ask.

“Yeah, you know, the Ancients!”

You stare at her for a bit, trying to figure out how to respond to that.

“…Schooling was not relevant to my project goals,” you decide on.

She gives you a face of uncomprehending confusion for a split second before it slowly transitions into utter mortification.

“O-o-o-oh Arceus I’m so sorry Mercury!” she yelps, her arms flailing. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean like… um. Right! So the Ancients are a civilization of humans that lived before our current civilization. We have next to no surviving records from them, but they somehow all died and left a lot of their stuff behind, most of which then got destroyed by Pokémon over the years. It’s theorized they somehow wiped themselves out? Anyway, there are a lot of crumbling ruins from all over the world that they built. The Ruins of Alph are super weird, though! They predate most Ancients ruins by quite a lot, so they have a completely different construction style and a completely different set of hieroglyphs! The Ruins of Alph are super well-preserved too. It’s a look into the dawn of the first-ever civilization!”

Hmm. That sounds… confusing, mostly? You don’t have any particular interest in trying to learn about a civilization of dead humans when you can barely understand the live ones. But you also have no real reason to refuse; Blue wanted you to stay with your friends and Kris said the ruin journey would be relatively quick. You anticipate enjoying the company, if not the event itself.

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll go with you.”

“Awesome!” Kris cheers, clapping once. “Er, should we invite your other friend? Silver?”

“I’m not sure if he’s my friend,” you answer, “and I do not know where he is.”

“Uh, don’t you have his Pokégear number?” she asks.

“No,” you say, pulling out your Pokégear to check. “But I could invite… Joey…?”

“Who the heck is Joey?” Kris asks.

“I don’t remember,” you admit.

“Huh. Well. Okay. Wait, do you have my phone number?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay, let’s fix that.”

You exchange phone numbers with Kris as the two of you finally make it to the Pokémon center. You get Winter and Fall healed, then promptly release them both from their Pokéballs, holding Fall in your arms as Winter bounds happily alongside you.

“Good job, both of you,” you tell them. “We won thanks to your efforts.”

Kris gives you a considering look as you have a brief conversation with your team, telling Fall what happened while he was unconscious, and soon enough her Pokémon are also healed. The two of you make a brief stop to pick up food and other supplies, and then you head out. The Ruins of Alph are apparently very close to Violet City, but it’s still a decent half-hour walk. Along the way, you pull out the Aerial Ace TM again and step off the path, motioning Kris to follow.

“Are you sure this is safe?” she asks hesitantly.

“I can protect you from any wild Pokémon,” you assure her, hanging Fall up in a tree.

“I mean the TM!” she snaps.

“Oh,” you answer. “No.”

“Well then why are you—”

You hand her your necklace again, ignoring her protests, and press the TM against your forehead. The pulse of energy washes over you again, the light turns green, and you confirm the activation.

F̷̝̀L̴̲͒Y̷̚͜I̶̧̔N̷̬̓G̸̤̽.

A burst of energy aggressively injects itself through your barrier, past your defenses and into the core of your self, worming its way into some aspect of your fundamental being. At first, it is nonsense, an enemy assault with no function or reason, but as it nestles itself deeper within you, putting down roots, it starts becoming a surge of information.

You cry out, clutching your head and falling to your knees as you feel the flow of energy shift inside you, a small pool of Flying blooming within your usual collection of various energies. The small parts of you that are still human react violently, unconverted cells dying painfully as your entire inner ecosystem shifts to accommodate this new power. But this is a familiar feeling, one you grew up with for a long time, and no worse than what you’re used to surviving. Your Pokémon cells, likewise, react with their usual overreaction to foreign energies, reaching out with greedy voraciousness. For once, however, their demands are heard, their desires glutted. Your back muscles twitch, trying to flap wings that aren’t there, and your claws burn, glowing with the desire to unleash what you have just obtained. You see it now. You know.

Cut the air faster than flight. This is a slashing maneuver, using the Flying energy not just to strike your foe but to propel your claws at undodgeable speeds. A perfect strike, always hitting exactly where you intend at exactly the moment you intend. A blow not of power, but of mastery. Given to you in an instant. By a little. Shiny. Disc.

You lick your lips. Your whole body screams in agony. You don’t care. You want more.

“…Mercury?” Kris whispers, concern and worry keeping her voice soft.

You realize now that your illusion is gone, shattered by whatever just happened to you. You’re on your knees, breathing heavily with a wild look on your face. Still gulping for air, you turn to look at Kris instead of at nothing and grin.

“It worked,” you tell her.

“Seriously?” she gapes.

You stand up, chuckling lightly, and strike. Your claws flash out and sever a nearby branch faster than you can blink. It’s like using Quick Attack, almost, but with all the power concentrated in your arm rather than your whole body. The Flying energy lets you strike with the wind.

“Holy… oh gosh. It really… Mercury, are you okay?”

“I feel great!” you confirm, and then cough up a big hunk of blood.

“Mercury!” Kris yelps at the same time Winter shouts “Boss!”

You wave them off, though, leaning over and coughing a few more times to clear your lungs.

“Oh gosh Mercury we need to get you to a hospital!” Kris insists.

“No,” you dismiss. “I am fine. I am already healing.”

“There is no way coughing up blood is fine!”

You scowl. Yes, there is?

“Kris,” you remind her again. “I am not human. And I am always becoming less human. Sometimes I start to bleed when groups of human cells die together because my body can’t hold the blood anymore.”

“Can’t hold the blood…?” Kris asks in horror.

“I’m part Ghost type,” you tell her. “When my human cells die, they don’t get replaced with more human cells. The doctors said I have less than half as much blood as a human. Someday I might not have any. So there’s no point in going to a doctor anyway, because biologically, I am a Pokémon.”

Kris seems to need to take a moment to process that.

“Mercury, what… what did they do to you?” she asks quietly.

Too much. It’s all you know, anymore.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” you say, weaving your illusion back up again. Blue said you don’t have to answer questions about yourself if you don’t want to. “Can we just go to the ruins?”

You do your best to clean the blood off with your psychic powers, although a lot has already stained your fur. Oh well, that’s what the illusion is for.

“…Sure, Mercury,” Kris nods. “Sorry.”

You nod, because that whole explanation already took a lot more words than you’re used to speaking at once and now you’re kind of out of them. You follow Kris in silence for the rest of the walk, arriving at the Ruins of Alph by walking into some kind of visitor’s center. You mostly ignore Kris as she chatters with the woman behind the desk, apparently signing the two of you up for a guided tour since you’re not allowed to wander through the ruins unsupervised. Kris even pays for you, and while you want to thank her you’re still feeling especially nonverbal. The words just… take too much energy and motivation to say.

“If you could recall your Pokémon please?” the tour guide asks you when she arrives, causing you to blink back to attention. “There are a handful of wild Pokémon living outside the ruins, but as you’ll see when we enter the first, there aren’t any that live within. Though we’ll be entering areas that are no longer active archeological sites, we still want to preserve them as much as possible.”

You shrug in apology to Winter and Fall, but both of them seem even less interested in the ruins than you are so there are no complaints as you recall them to their Pokéballs.

“So, does that mean there are still active archeological sites at the ruins?” Kris asks excitedly.

“That’s correct,” the guide confirms. “This is not only the oldest set of ruins in Johto, but by far the largest and most intact. We’re still uncovering all of it, since a significant chunk of the ruins are buried underground chambers. Our excavation teams have to be very careful not to accidentally cause a cave-in, but everywhere we’ll be visiting has been confirmed to be perfectly safe.”

“Aaaah, this is so cool! I can’t believe we got our own tour this quickly!”

The guide chuckles.

“Yes, you’d think more people would be interested in a piece of history this important. We don’t get many repeat visitors, though.”

“Huh,” Kris says, as we exit the visitor’s center into the ruins proper. “Why not?”

You glance around, taking in the ancient stone buildings hanging with vines and moss. It’s oddly calm here, quiet in a way that seems pregnant with meaning. There’s a taste of energy in the air, though confusingly you can’t really figure out what kind.

“Well, a lot of people believe this place is haunted by the spirits of the Ancients that used to live here. People will say they feel like they’re being watched, or otherwise made uncomfortable. Of course, we’ve checked countless times; no ghosts or ghost-type Pokémon seem to make their homes here, even in the areas outside. And Pokémon never enter the ruins themselves without a trainer.”

“Really?” Kris asks. “No wild Pokémon at all?”

“None,” the tour guide confirms, leading you to the closest ancient building. “That’s one of the mysteries of this place.”

You walk inside, and it’s immediately clear to you why that is. Though the old stone walls are lit by small, modern lamps, you know that the archeologists are tolerated, not in charge. This place is to be preserved, because it is not yours. It is a home, and it is occupied.

Then you see the engravings on the wall, and though you don’t recognize them in the slightest they make your fur stand on end.

Holy.

“These glyphs are among the rarest and oldest in the world,” the tour guide says, pointing to the incredibly stylized letters on the wall, each depicted with an eye. “and as best we can tell, they predate the dot-based language of the Ancients by at least several hundred years. You’ll immediately note there is a significant similarity to our own modern-day alphabet, leading us to believe that after the collapse of the Ancients, surviving humans may have rebuilt language using ruins just like this one as their origin.”

“We’ve used the same alphabet since the fall of the Ancients, right?” Kris asks.

“That’s correct,” the tour guide nods. “Nearly every civilization in the world today uses some version of the alphabet these very walls seem to depict, even on continents where no ruins like these have been found yet. We’ve obviously had some language drift since then, but a lot of writing found here at the Ruins of Alph is still partially readable to laymen.”

“What sort of things are written here?” Kris asks excitedly.

The tour guide smiles and motions further inside.

“How about we go see?”

Practically vibrating with excitement, Kris starts to follow the tour guide as she walks further in. You want to appreciate how excited she is, your overactive empathy normally quite nice in situations where people you care about are this happy. Instead, though, you hesitate. The energy in the air gets thicker, making your barrier buzz. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong here.

You do not belong here.

You reach out and grab Kris’ hand before she can walk too far away, almost on instinct. The feeling fades slightly, seeming safer around her that it does anywhere else. Kris turns to you in surprise and notices the terrified look on your face as your eyes dart around. She gives you a concerned look.

“Are you… okay?” she asks.

“I need to stay with you,” you tell her.

“Um, okay?” she asks. “Why? What’s wrong?”

You squeeze her hand tighter.

“I need to stay with you,” you repeat.

She gives you a funny look and nods.

“Well, alright then,” she says. “I guess you’re feeling the weird things we were told about?”

You say nothing. You’re not sure what this is. This is… different. Different from all the weird feelings you normally get for being a psychic ghost monster. Kris tugs you along and you catch up with the tour guide, who has stopped to wait for you. She leads you further inside, and the feeling only gets worse. The many eyes of the letters on the walls seem to turn to watch you, but whenever you look at them directly it’s like they never moved at all. In the back of your mind, you feel an ever-growing sound. A strange, discordant pitch that’s both ominous and soothing. It’s a song, and it sings of broken melodies.

“Sorry,” you whisper, though you don’t know why. “Sorry.”

“Here’s the first main chamber,” the tour guide announces, causing you to jump a little. Kris flinches as you squeeze her hand a bit too hard. “As you can see, there’s quite an engraving here on the floor; please don’t step forward any further.”

You freeze, as instructed. The weight of attention on you, the feeling of transgression, chitters with confusion in the back of your mind. You keep darting your gaze around the room, trying to understand. But there is nothing to understand other than the fact that you do not belong here, and you are being barely tolerated.

“We… must learn… to walk in… harmony?” Kris reads, focusing on the engravings in the floor. You barely even look at them. They’re less alive than the walls. “And so we leave… for the sake… of them. Wait, of who?”

“We don’t know,” the tour guide smiles. “The prevailing theory is that it refers to Pokémon somehow. A lot of ancient writing that uses these glyphs mentions the ideal of human-Pokémon harmony. It might be referring to some kind of Pokémon, but it’s unclear who was leaving, why they were leaving, or who they were leaving for the sake of. It’s one of the mysteries we hope additional excavation can uncover.”

“That’s so cooool!” Kris wiggles excitedly.

“Well, if you think that’s cool, wait until you hear the biggest mystery,” the tour guide grins, pulling out her Pokégear. “This trick works with any radio, but only in the Ruins of Alph. You’re welcome to pull yours out and turn it to channel thirteen point five.”

You do not do that, but Kris does, pulling her hand away from yours to fiddle with her Pokégear. You quickly grab her bicep instead. You’re getting increasingly uncomfortable here.

Kris moves her gear to the indicated channel, and the strange music that’s been thrumming in the back of your mind starts playing out loud, far clearer than before. You hear it now, you really hear it. It’s not just a song, but a conversation. They’re talking about you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Mercury?” Kris asks you hesitantly. “You okay?”

“Your friend there seems to have it particularly rough,” the tour guide comments. “By any chance is she psychic?”

“Uh… yeah, she is,” Kris frowns. “Do psychics have it worse?”

“Sometimes,” the tour guide shrugs. “Most people don’t seem to like it in here, but I’ve never felt it.”

“Yeah, I just feel normal too,” Kris agrees.

“They like you,” you tell the humans. “You’re doing what you’re supposed to. You and the archeologists. You’re learning. You’re careful. You’re welcome guests.”

“Um,” the tour guide frowns. “You okay, sweetie?”

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, eyes glancing all over the room in a panic. “What am I doing wrong? What am I supposed to do?”

“Mercury?” Kris asks. “Maybe it would be better if you go outside?”

“No,” you say immediately. “I… I should stay with you.”

You absolutely want to flee, but the idea of doing so terrifies you. To separate yourself from Kris for even a moment feels like it would be a transgression, and so to flee alone would invite reprisal. But to make Kris come with you, to pull her away from something she's so excited about… that, too, would be wrong. 

They’re arguing. You hear anger in the song. It’s so hard to understand but you understand there’s anger. It’s lesser when you follow Kris, when you stay close to Kris… but it’s definitely there. And it’s increasing. Whatever side of this argument that doesn’t like you is winning.

“I’m sorry,” you say again.

“Well, maybe we should just move on with the tour?” the guide says desperately.

“Yeah,” Kris agrees. “If… that’s okay, Mercury?”

“Don’t ask me what to do,” you mutter. It's not your place. Right? “I’ll follow. I’ll just follow you.”

“…Uh, okay. We’re with you, then!” Kris says, giving a thumbs-up to the tour guide.

Shivering slightly, you continue clinging to Kris as you go deeper into the ruins. The guide leads you around the carvings in the floor to another hallway at the back of the room, its walls once again lined with eye-covered patterns, glaring at you as if they were alive. They seem to be randomly organized, but out of the corner of your eye you’re sure you spot a configuration set to a word.

“Which what?” you ask, but then you blink and the text is gone, garbled once again. But the more you look around, the more you start to see letters changing. Never when in view, only when you look away. Even if you flick your eyes back and forth for an instant, the walls change. But as long as you keep them in sight, they stay the same.

“I don’t understand,” you say.

“A prayer room,” the tour guide suddenly says, and you realize she’s said it twice now. She’s repeating herself for you, thinking your words were directed at her. “We’re going towards a room that’s believed to be some sort of prayer room, or temple. It is carved with the statue of an unknown Pokémon.”

Unknown. Unknown. Unknown. Unknown.

“Is that what you are?” you ask.

“What have I done wrong?” you ask. “Why are you angry?”

The question crashes into you. You only realize your claws have poked holes in Kris’ shirt when she winces in pain.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her, and also them. If anything, though, your apology makes them angrier. Not because it isn’t an answer, but because it’s an admission of guilt. To what, you don't know, but you've admitted it. 

You know.

The tour guide leads you to the end of the hall, where the prayer room waits. Shivering, clinging to your lifeline and friend, you follow. They do not like that you are in here. They are incensed with you. The argument is reaching a swift conclusion, thanks to your audacity. But you don’t understand what else you’re supposed to do.

This room is engraved with countless living symbols, just like the hallway. In the center is a statue, a four-legged creature that sort of reminds you of a particularly lithe Stantler, but with strange, circular antlers coming out of its torso instead of its head.

The song is loudest here, and you can’t stop a few tears from falling silently down your face as the anger at your very existence burrows its way into your skull. This is horrid. You should have left, but you couldn’t leave because you couldn’t leave Kris and Kris wants to be here and Kris hasn’t done anything wrong!

“The people who built this place seemed to worship this statue, or the being it depicts,” the tour guide says. “There’s some significant evidence that it’s a statue of Arceus, as some of the writings here mention descriptions and legends not unlike our modern-day understanding of the creator deity.”

“So, wait. The Ancients might have worshiped Arceus too?” Kris asks.

“Well, if Arceus truly created the world, it stands to reason that every human civilization knew about him, doesn’t it?” the tour guide asks.

You say nothing. The song roars in your ears.

“Would you like to examine the statue a little closer?” the tour guide asks.

“Yeah!” Kris agrees happily.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but it doesn’t drown out the sound. It just gets louder and louder as Kris drags you closer. Suddenly, she stops moving, and quirks her head to the side.

“Wait,” she says. “Do you hear that?”

“Yes,” you hiss, the deafening roar reaching a fever pitch unlike any other until the walls start to shake, the floor starts to rumble, and the humans start to panic.

Then the ground disappears beneath you, and you fall into darkness. Kris screams as she falls beside you, but you can barely hear her. Instead you latch onto her with a different grip, lifting her up in your arms as you keep your feet pointed to the floor. When the two of you finally hit the ground with a sudden smash, you absorb as much of the shock as you can, cushioning her from an otherwise-dangerous drop for a human.

The trapdoor slides shut again from above you, the tour guide’s shouts of panic winking into silence. There is only the song, now. You drop your illusion, no longer needing it, and channel enough energy in your claws to make them glow. Around you, a room not unlike the one you just fell out of becomes visible around you. Except now, the carvings are peeling themselves off the walls.

“Leave Kris out of this!” you shout, setting your friend down, but the swarm shows no sign of listening.

That’s okay. You’re terrified and confused, but now? Now you see your enemy. As the symbols twist to life, somehow going from negative space to three-dimensional being, they fly around you, circling in patterns as more and more of them join their brethren.

“Mercury!? What’s happening!?” Kris yelps.

“Just stay down!” you snap at her. “They don’t care about you!”

You let Ghost energy billow out of you, causing your hair to thrash like it’s in a thunderstorm. The song screams at you, despising you for your defiance, but what else are you to do? You are a weapon. Your enemy has made themselves known. You will fight.

Psychic Terrain oozes out around you. You will survive this. You will feast on their energy and become ever stronger!

Darkness is replaced with light. And then you fall once more.

Chapter Text

You land.

Sploosh!

Water, frigid and salty, becomes your whole world. Panic and confusion grip you, and you lash out in every direction, bursts of ghostly energy firing every which way from your palms. What’s happening? How is this happening? Your movements are sluggish, held back by the water. Your eyes sting painfully, attacked by the salt. You can’t find any of your enemies, you don’t sense any aggression, and it’s so, so quiet, almost like you…

You’re not in the ruins anymore.

Also, you’re only mostly dead, so you still need to breathe.

Orienting yourself as best you can, you kick towards the surface, your thick, fluffy fur making your body weighty and hard to move underwater. Your inhuman strength offsets this, though, and you manage to get your head above water without issue. You breathe and look around. The sun is in much the same position as it was when you entered the ruins. The closest land is a series of wooden bridges, on which you can barely see tiny figures that look like human fishermen.

Well. Uh. You suppose you’ve been teleported!?

You stick you head back underwater again as you pat yourself down. You still have all of your stuff, including Fall and Winter’s Pokéballs, and your backpack is probably keeping most of your other stuff dry. So that’s good. There are a lot of Pokémon around here as well, many of them swimming towards you out of curiosity, and a couple getting closer out of aggression. While it’s nowhere near shallow enough here for you to walk on the bottom, it is shallow and clear enough for you to see the seafloor, so there are a few bottom-dwellers paying attention to you as well. Just offhand, you can see Tentacool, Krabby, Staryu, Corsola, Magikarp… oh, uh, is that a Tentacruel? You don’t want to mess with that guy…. wait, you don't have time for this! You shake your head, panic clearing your disoriented thoughts. Kris might be in danger! You have to get back and help her!

You start a one-handed sidestroke towards the wooden bridges, pulling out your Pokégear to check your location. Oh, you're in Cherrygrove Bay, on the Route 32 side! You're just south of the ruins! Invigorated, you swim even faster, the water dragging and pulling at your fur. Your fluffy tail acts like an anchor as it soaks up enormous amounts of water, each stroke feeling like you're dragging a sack of bricks attached to your spine. This is actually the first time you've swam since being taken to that place, and while you vaguely remember enjoying it as a human you're now especially glad that Kris convinced you not to try and swim the bay. This is kind of terrible.

Still thumbing at your Pokégear, you hit the button to call Kris, but the line fails to connect. Crap! This is bad! You have to get to shore! You didn't think those Unown wanted to hurt her, but if they change their minds…

You shudder, the horrific otherness of those terrifying Pokémon cutting through your determined panic. What… what are they? How did they make you feel like that? It was like everything you've ever thought about being a freak that doesn't belong was solidified in that chamber, a burning rage against your monstrous status twisted and turned back against you. You wish now that you'd said so many things. That you'd have told them you never asked for this, never wanted this. You are what you are by no action or desire of your own. You don't know if they'd have forgiven you, if they knew. Maybe they already know, and they just don't care.

Unown. Thousand eyes of a thousand arms. What does that mean?

You quickly get distracted from the question as something grabs your ankle and squeezes hard. It doesn't hurt at first; the Normal energy infusing the vice does nothing to the Ghost energy protecting you. But then your body recognizes it's in contact with another Pokémon, and it wants to change.

WATER chitin configuration WATER boneless WATER mass conversion required WATER

You roar and kick your foot, but whatever has attached itself to your ankle refuses to let go. It's not very large, but it's certainly persistent! Twisting your body, you lift your leg out of the water… and immediately take a blast of bubbles to the face from the Krabby that's attached to you!

"Why!?" you sputter furiously. Did this thing swim all the way up from the ocean floor just to pinch your ankle?

"Taste my wrath, landbound fool!" The Krabby cackles. "You've fallen into the wrong pond! A watery grave will be yours!"

This is the ocean though!? Screw it, you don't have time for this. You slap away the next burst of energy-infused bubbles and coalesce your psychic power, crushing the idiotic Krabby from all sides.

WATER muscular inferiority WATER throughput inferiority WATER

Gah, he's barely even doing anything but it hurts so much! Just touching him makes your bones want to melt. You try to twitch tiny legs you don't even have, to scuttle in ways you suddenly know how to do, suddenly feel right to you, but aren't things your body is even remotely capable of accomplishing. And still he just won't! Let! Go!

You add a furious kick against your own ankle to the psychic assault, then another and another but the damn Krabby still won't let go!

"My grip—ow—is the grip—oof—of kings!" the tiny Krabby roars from underwater.

"I am going to eat you!!!" you shriek back.

"Only if you can stick your foot in your mouth! Haha! OW!"

Yet another kick lands and yet still the tenacious crustacean hangs on, his body empowered by an egregious amount of Harden to enhance his defense. You're getting a headache as your body creaks and strains against itself. Your fur might start falling out if this keeps up.

"Why are you doing this!?" you demand.

"I do not remember! Ignorance is strength!"

What does that even mean!? Uugh, its defenses are all so high! Was he just sitting on the ocean floor and stacking buffs until you swam overhead? You're not getting him off unless you land an attack that bypasses most of his barrier. Or… wait.

A Pokéball would get him off.

You pull out an empty one and scrunch your knees up to your chest so you can smash the front of the ball right into his stupid Krabby face. In a flash of light, the Pokéball sends out a detection pulse, identifies its target, and forcibly converts the Krabby into energy. Immediately, you feel the relief as his claw vanishes from your ankle, calming the roiling power underneath your skin. You shudder, and prepare yourself to blast the horrid creature away from you the moment he breaks out of the ball.

The Pokéball clicks. The Krabby is now yours.

…What.

"Heeeey! Are you okay out there!? Help is on the way!"

You jolt and look back towards shore just in time to see one of the fishermen wave at you and release his Goldeen down into the water, who immediately rushes towards you. At first you assume you're under attack, rushing to reorient yourself to knock the Goldeen out, but thankfully it's far enough away that you have time to register what the fisherman said. The Goldeen is coming to help you return to shore, and that's… quite helpful, actually.

Or it would be, if you could hold onto the darn thing without your body trying to unravel.

You sigh and weave your illusion around yourself, continuing to swim towards the bridge. You're probably too far away for the humans to have noticed you're not one of them, and it's probably a bad idea to divest them of that assumption. Most humans are not as nice as Kris.

Wait, that's right, Kris! You don't have time to keep getting distracted by random things and you certainly don't have time to slowly swim back to shore by yourself! You need this Goldeen's help. But how are you going to touch it? Your body is already reeling from the last attack. You really shouldn't be staying in contact with a Pokémon for much longer, you'd probably fall unconscious and start drowning and then there would be even more problems. But what can you do? What other options are there? Think! Think! You're supposed to be a trainer, you're supposed to be doing human things! Come up with a plan! A plan to… to do something!

You can't touch the Goldeen. You need to hold the Goldeen. But these two things are impossible to do together, right? So why even bother to think about…

No, wait. You release your newly-caught Krabby from its ball.

"Go grab me some seaweed," you order, feeling vaguely stupid.

Because you are stupid. This is the easiest problem ever. It doesn't even need to be seaweed, anything that could serve as a flexible barrier between your skin and the Goldeen would work. That should have been obvious. This sort of situation is exactly why Aunt Tess tried to get you to start wearing gloves, but you just didn't because you hate gloves and your claws mess them up anyway.

"What!? Where am I? What happened?" the startled Krabby bubbles. Oh, right. He's an idiot. "I thought I was valiantly defeating a chosen prey!"

"You lost," you hiss furiously. "Now go!"

"Oh! Hello, human! Are you my trainer? Do I have a trainer now!? Hot diggity!"

"Go get seaweed!"

Happily, he vomits out some more bubbles and propels himself backwards to actually go follow your orders. Hopefully. Maybe you should just take off your shirt and use that instead.

You really, really hope Kris is okay. If those horrific wall-things hurt her you'll… well, you don't know what you'll do. It's not a fight you can win, you don't think. One Unown? Sure, easy prey. Ten Unown? Pathetic fodder for your growth. A hundred Unown, though? A thousand? All at once? All furious and horrible and in your head, reminding you how wrong you are, how you SHOULD NOT BE—

"Behold! The finest of all kelp, snipped fresh with my own two claws! May your inscrutable purposes be fruitful, oh human of mine!"

You flinch as your Krabby returns, a bounty of slimy green water plants in his claws. It's exactly what you need.

"I'm not human," you growl at him.

"What?" your Krabby asks, but you just recall him after grabbing the kelp, wrapping it around your hands. The Goldeen arrives when you finish, and you grab on, the powerful little swimmer rushing you back to shore twice as fast as you could have managed alone.

"Thank you," you tell the Goldeen, though he doesn't answer since he doesn't think you can understand him anyway. That's fine. The moment you get close enough to shore, you let go of him and Quick Attack directly onto dry land.

"Woah!" the startled fisherman yelps as you briefly blink out of vision and end up next to him. He had run to shore to greet you, and while you don't feel great about using a move in public, getting back to Kris as quickly as possible is far more important.

"You okay, miss?" the fisherman asks. "What was that you… uh."

He trails off as you ignore him, sprinting north as fast as you can go. Which, at least by human standards, is very fast. Energy thrums through your body as you rush forwards, legs glowing as they pound tracks into the dirt. You become a brilliant white streak as you push your agility to its limits, your body burning as you keep an eye on your Pokégear map, hoping it can tell you where the heck you need to stop and turn to get to the Ruins of Alph again.

You're so startled when it suddenly starts ringing that you nearly drop it. What!? What's going on? What's wrong with your… wait, why is Kris' name on the screen? Is she calling you!?

"Kris, are you okay!?" you shout into the phone, bringing it up to your face.

"Mercury!" Kris says with relief. "Oh thank Arceus! I'm fine! Are you okay!? What happened to you?"

The relief hits you like a Shadow Ball and you nearly collapse into a heap then and there. Instead you skid to a semi-graceful stop, flailing your free arm and slowly starting to realize how your legs, chest, and lungs all burn with pain, your heart thumping your thin blood as fast as it can possibly manage.

"...I'm okay," you breathe. "I got teleported into Cherrygrove Bay."

"Oh gosh, what!? Oh geez you sound like you're about to collapse. Please tell me you're on land now."

"Yes," you confirm between breaths. "I've… I was running north. To help you."

Hmm. You feel. Kind of lightheaded. You decide to sit down.

"Aw, Mercury. Thank you. The… whatever those things were, they didn't attack me. They spun around me for a while and it really freaked me out, but they scattered when I sent Tutu out to attack them. And… well, then I had to try and find a way out from underground, which was really scary, I thought I was trapped, but… well, there was only really one way to go, so I went that way and eventually saw some light and managed to crawl out of a little hole and… yeah. The scariest thing was not knowing what happened to you!"

You start to get angry the more she talks, hearing how her voice trembles with poorly-hidden fear as she talks about the Unown. Those… those… things! (Were they even Pokémon?) How dare they hurt her. It's you they wanted! You're the only one they hated! They didn't have to drag her down with you!

"The Unown just wanted me to leave," you tell her. "So they made me leave."

"Unknown? You mean the things from the wall that swarmed us? Gosh, they were freaky. I guess they are kind of unknown, huh? I've never heard of a Pokémon like that."

"Not 'unknown,'" you correct. "Unown. Like 'enigma,' but also 'to revoke ownership.' It is their name."

Why do you know that…? You're surprised you managed to explain something so clearly.

"Wait, you've seen these things before?" Kris asks.

"No." Never before and hopefully never again. "It is the name they gave me."

"...Oh, right," she says softly. "So when you were mumbling to yourself in there, you were actually talking to them?"

It wasn't really much of a conversation, but yes. You tried.

"They don't like me," you mumble. "They don't like what I am. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have got you caught up in it."

"Oh, Mercury, it's okay. I—"

She cuts herself off and for a moment you're ready to leap back to your feet and rush to her aid again, but then you hear what sounds like a distant yelling from the other end of the phone.

"Oh, there's a search party looking for me!" Kris yelps. "Well, I'd better go make myself easy to find. I just sort of called you first without thinking, ehehe. Like yeah, no duh there would be a bunch of people looking for us after we got dropped into a pit mid-tour…"

"Okay," you say. "Where should I meet up with you?"

"Um… they're probably going to want to make sure you're okay, so maybe head to the entrance of the ruins? Just not, uh. Y'know. You don't have to go inside."

"...I'll get as close as I can," you agree.

The two of you hang up soon after that, and you let out an enormous sigh before forcing yourself back up onto your feet. She's okay. Kris is alive and okay. They didn't hurt her. That's… that's something, at least. Maybe you can just never see those creatures again and this will be nothing but another bad memory.

You have plenty of those, so it won't really change much.

You trudge the rest of the way to the Ruins of Alph Visitor's Center, where you find Kris, your flustered tour guide, and a collection of excited archeologists all waiting for you. They ask you to show them where you fell through the floor. You categorically refuse, grab Kris by the hand, and drag her the hell out of there.

"Aww, we could have tried to answer their questions, at least!" Kris says, though it's half-hearted at most. You can tell she's really interested in archeology, but she can also feel your hand shaking just being this close to the ruins again. You squeeze her hand a little harder.

"...Can we get to Azalea Town today?" you ask.

"Hmm…" She checks her Pokégear with her free hand. "Probably not. It'd be really dark when we get out of Union Cave."

"Are you okay with that?" you ask. "I can see in the dark. I can guide us."

"Are you in a hurry to get to Azalea town?" she asks. "We could always just camp."

"I am in a hurry to get away from here," you answer. "I never want to be here again."

"...Yeah, that's understandable," Kris sighs. "I, um. I don't really want to travel in the dark, though. For pretty much the same reason."

Oh. You look at her, remembering how she had to crawl out of the tunnel you were dropped into all by herself, not knowing if you were alive.

"We can camp somewhere," you tell her.

"How about just outside Union Cave?"

"Okay," you say, not knowing where that is but feeling terrible and willing to do anything she wants.

She gives you a nervous smile.

"Sorry, Mercury."

"What for?" you ask.

"Uh, I'm the whole reason you got dragged to the ruins in the first place?" she reminds you. "And like… I could tell you weren't comfortable there. But I was too excited by the tour to really want to focus on you."

"It's okay," you tell her. "You didn't do anything wrong. If I hadn't been there, the tour would have gone fine and you would have had fun."

She kicks her feet a little as she walks.

"Well, I did have fun," she admits. "Up until the whole horrific panic bit, it was a really cool tour. I have so many more questions about the Ancients now! And those… what did you call them? Unown? Like gosh, we just witnessed a totally unclassified Pokémon, Mercury!"

Hmm. That's an interesting point. You wonder if you'll be added to the Pokédex someday. They added Mewtwo after Red used them for a while…

You mostly just listen to Kris chatter as you walk back south down Route 32. Once the bay comes in sight again, you head across the bridges in hopes of finding and thanking that fisherman who sent his Pokémon to help you. You manage to spot him, and he certainly recognizes you, so you have a brief conversation. His name is Ralph. He says that you are very fast, which is a true statement. He gives you his phone number for some reason.

"Hey… wait, is that… yeah!" Kris calls out as you get to the other end of the bridge. "Look, Mercury, there's a Pokémon Center!"

Huh? You follow Kris' gaze and sure enough, the red roof of a Pokémon center is visible, just barely peeking over the trees ahead of you. What the heck? How do humans maintain such an energy-intensive structure all the way out in the wilderness like this? They must have a lot of guards for the place, wild Pokémon are all over and would love to chew it all apart.

Although come to think of it… this is a main route. That means it's human territory. Sure, it doesn't look or feel like human territory in the way that a city does, what with the verdant nature in every direction, but you saw some people having a gosh darn picnic out here a ways back. Step off the route, though, and that quickly becomes a bad idea. It may not have any of their signature construction, but humans control the territory of their travel routes.

"Come on, we can just spend the night there!" Kris says, suddenly the one dragging you along. You let her, leaving your ponderings unvoiced. The lone building in the woods is bizarrely identical to every other Pokémon Center on the inside, all artificially bright and horribly sterile. Even the Nurse Joy inside has superficial similarities to every other Joy you've seen, the kind a human might call identical. To your senses, of course, she's wildly different; sharp and tired in the way that humans seem to get the longer they fight.

"Welcome to the Pokémon Center!" she greets, her exhaustion only increasing as she keeps it away from her voice. You approach and hand her Winter's, Fall's, and your new Krabby's Pokéballs. Kris raises her eyebrows as she watches you.

"Three?" she asks. "When did you catch another Pokémon?"

"Hmm? Oh. Today," you answer. "He attacked me after I got dropped in the bay. I… am probably going to release him."

You guess he was kind of competent, but… he was also very annoying. No reason to deny him a free health check first, though. Pokémon Centers are nothing short of miraculous.

"You don't have to release him," Kris protests. "You can always just box him for later."

You squeeze the side of the counter with one hand, your claws digging into the underside of the lip.

"...No," you tell her, a pit forming in your stomach.

"Oh," Kris says hesitantly. "Well, okay."

You stand and wait, even as the nurse invites you to sit down as she does the first-time checks. Should you release the Krabby? He seemed excited at the prospect of being caught, and you can't say he didn't impress you, however begrudgingly. Enhancing his defenses with energy while waiting in ambush is actually a pretty sophisticated tactic for a Pokémon, since it would require a lot of foresight and timing to not simply waste the energy.

…Although you suppose it's always possible he was just repeatedly wasting energy like an idiot in hopes of getting lucky.

"Hey, uh, Mercury?" Kris whispers at you in an oddly conspiratorial manner. "Do you think you could… y'know. Like if you got hurt, could you use one of the restoration machines, do you think? To heal?"

You blink at her for a moment, wondering where this conversation is suddenly coming from.

"Yes, I can," you tell her. Honestly, you probably should after everything that happened today, but you have no earthly idea how you'd broach the subject with the nurse.

"Wait, so you've done it before?" Kris asks in wonder, and you nod. In the last year or so of your time in that place you used them pretty regularly, to speed up recovery and allow time for more tests. Once your changes advanced enough for them to start working, the scientists used them on you all the time. You resultantly have mixed emotions about them; on one hand, they make you feel a heck of a lot better, but on the other hand they tend to herald things getting a lot worse.

"Woah," Kris whispers. "That's so neat. I wonder how you get a human body to do something like that. It's not apples and oranges, it's more like apples and Oranguru, you know? I mean, of course you know, duh. Sorry. I can't help but I wonder if the Ancients could have made someone like you."

You turn to actually look at her for the first time this conversation.

"The Ancients?" you prompt. Kris seems to get really happy and excited when she talks about the ancients, so listening to her should be relaxing.

"Oh, right, yeah. Well, part of what makes the Ancients so darn cool is how advanced they apparently were, right? Like, they supposedly had technology even beyond what we have today. When we say Silph Co developed the first artificial Pokémon in Porygon, what we really mean is that they developed the first artificial Pokémon since the Ancients."

Oh. Hmm. That's somewhat interesting.

"What kinds of Pokémon did the Ancients create?" you ask.

"Oh, I mean, not really much that's still around, especially not around here," Kris says dismissively. "Like… uh, Golurk? Do you know what a Golurk is? No? Baltoy? Well, actually, since we found them in the middle of an Ancients ruin, maybe those Unown are artificial Pokémon too! It'd sure explain why they look like letters."

Hmm. Is that why they felt so strange? You honestly have no idea. Nurse Joy returns with your Pokémon, proclaiming a clean bill of health on your team, barring some kind of benign symbiotic virus in your Krabby? You don't really get it, but Kris seems excited about it and calls you 'lucky' so you guess it's a good thing.

…Hrm. You really have been thinking of him as 'your Krabby,' haven't you? Well, fine. You'll give him a shot, you suppose.

Stepping out of the Pokémon Center, you release your team. Winter, Fall, and your newest member.

"Would you like a name?" you ask him when he appears.

"Hmm? Name? Ack! Wait a minute! Fair trainer, there are two other Pokémon attempting to accost you! Have at thee, brutes! You'll not touch my master!"

"What? Are you stupid?" Winter asks as the Krabby puts up his claws and starts scuttling back and forth. "That's OUR boss!"

"Oh? Oh! Comrades in arms, then!" the Krabby realizes. "In that case I'll have to fight you twice as hard, to establish the pecking order! Hi-yah!"

"No," you sigh, snatching the Krabby with telekinesis and flipping him onto his back. He squawks indignantly, tiny legs flailing helplessly in the air. "Pay attention. I am not a normal sort of trainer. I can understand you. So speak to me. Do you want to join us? And if so, do you want a name?"

"Are you seriously asking this loon?" Winter complains. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Yes, and outside the north exit of Union Cave," you tell her.

"Creator above, you really do understand us!" the Krabby gapes, still fighting to roll himself back upright. "Why, I'm the luckiest scrapper alive! Yes! I'll gladly share your wisdom and accept your titles, strange talking human!"

"...I am not human, but okay," you sigh. Hmm… a name… surely you can think of a good name…?

Well… hmm. You've been using seasons as your naming theme, and since you aren't exactly a fountain of creativity you figure you'll stick with that theme. So, uh… what seasons do you have left? Spring? Summer? Your Krabby did 'spring' up from the ocean floor to attack you, you guess, but it feels like a weird name for a water type. And this Krabby just isn't the Summer type.

But… that's all the seasons, right? There's four of them. Hmm. Something about that doesn't feel right, so you rack your brain for some cobweb-dusted word associations and start coming up with more. There's harvest season! Holiday season! Dry season! There's so many seasons to choose from that you… wait. Wait a minute. You have the perfect name for a water type.

"Your name is Wet," you declare confidently.

Kris immediately snorts and doubles over laughing for what must assuredly be an unrelated reason, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"Glorious!" Krabby agrees.

"What does that mean?" Winter asks.

"It is the physical sensation of contact with water," you answer, "or its presence."

"Hmm. Simple but not bad. Welcome to the team, I guess."

"Wh-whahahaha… w-wait, Mercury," Kris howls. "You can't name him Wet!"

"...What force prevents me?" you ask, scrunching your eyebrows together.

"I… it's just… aaahahaha, oh gosh. It's just a really weird name, Mercury! And like, out of context it has another meaning, kind of, which is a little… hahaha. Y'know, it's like… when a girl…?"

You blink slowly.

"No, I have no idea what you are saying," you tell her. "Is Winter a bad name for an ice type?"

"What? No, that's a great name!"

"Then why would Wet be a bad name for a water type?" you ask, frowning. "I think it is a good name. I like it."

"No, Mercury, no no no," Kris guffaws, a hand on her face. "I just… can you imagine? Go, Wet! Aaahahaha!"

You're actually kind of offended. You put a lot of effort into the name Wet and you think it's pretty great! It's on-theme, it's watery, it's… it's good! And Kris is being very mean about it! Wait, you have orders for this kind of situation now, don't you? Blue said you're supposed to communicate your feelings. You can do that. No one is going to hurt you if you do that, right?

"P-please don't laugh at me," you manage to say.

For a horrid moment you think your words have been for nothing, Kris' laughter continuing painfully in spite of your pleas. But then she seems to notice your words and quickly chokes down the rest of her amusement, taking a few deep breaths to clear her mind.

"...Sorry, Mercury," she apologizes. "If you like the name, that's what matters. And, er, I guess if Wet likes the name…?"

"He does," you confirm. "Because it is a good name."

"R-right," Kris agrees, her smile twitching for only a moment. "Well, congrats on catching a third Pokémon! Are you ready to turn in for the night? It's been… quite a day."

"Okay," you agree. "But I'm paying for a private room."

She blinks with surprise.

"Really?" Kris asks. "Those are pretty expensive."

Why would that matter? That's not… oh. Hmm. She still doesn't really think of you as you are. That's… a little frustrating, but mostly just baffling. You've done your best to explain things, but Kris still treats you very strangely. Like you're just a normal trainer with a hard-to-talk-about past rather than… what you really are. Whatever that is.

"...I can't maintain an illusion while unconscious, Kris," you tell her, motioning to yourself. "This is all fake, remember?"

"Well that's… okay. Yeah, I guess… okay. Sorry, Mercury," Kris frowns. "Um, I could split the cost with you?"

"Sure," you shrug. Kris already knows what you look like, so it won't matter if you relax with her around. Although… it'll mean you're not supposed to take your clothes off. Hnngh. Annoying. Too late to take back, too.

Well, your clothes aren't that sticky and smelly. They mostly just smell like seawater, which… well, there are worse smells. Your fur is all matted up now, though. It's very itchy. Oh, well.

You give Kris the amount of money she tells you to give her, and then she rents a room for the night. You follow her up to the room, surprised and impressed with how easily Wet handles the stairs, and drop Fall into a corner before flopping down onto the floor.

You are very tired. Not exhausted-tired, not fought-to-the-last-breath-tired, but certainly very tired. The rough carpet feels nice against your matted fur, so you drop your illusion the moment Kris shuts the door, rubbing your face and body against the coarse bristles to sate the itch.

Kris gives you a rather bewildered look as you continue rubbing against the floor, kicking your shoes off so you can run your back claws through your tail while you're at it, attacking some of the tangles with your toes. Ugh, you want to throw all of these horrible clothes off, but you're not allowed to do that with humans around! You're endlessly grateful for being rescued, and you'd certainly never wish to have not been rescued, but having to wear clothes is easily the worst part of not being trapped in a mad science lab. Aunt Tess even said that you have to have to wear real clothes regardless of whether or not your illusion had clothes! What's up with that, anyway? Isn't the whole clothes thing because humans are weird about looking at crotches and nipples? Your body is covered with so much fur nobody can see anything anyway, so who cares? Whatever. Humans are weird about a lot of things.

"Well goodness golly, would you look at that!" Wet declares. "You ARE the Pokémon that I fought in glorious battle! But… you are also my trainer…? Hmm! A confounding puzzle!"

"It really isn't," Winter sighs. "She's just our trainer and a Pokémon. That's it."

"A solved puzzle!!! Glorious! Well then, my fair trainer, it would be remiss of me to not offer my services in hair management! My legs and claws are perfect for such an occasion!"

"How would you know anything about managing fur!?" Winter demands. "You don't have any! And you live underwater!"

"Don't touch me," you hiss. "Ever."

"Hey, uh, Mercury?" Kris asks. "Whatcha doing over there?"

"Rubbing my face on the floor," you answer.

Kris seems to need to take a moment to process that before she asks a follow-up question.

"Yeah, um. Why?"

"Feels nice," you mumble. "Fur is clumping up from the ocean."

"Oh. Uh. Yeah, I guess you do look a lot less poofy than before. You should probably take a shower."

You hiss at her. She blinks.

"...Did you just hiss at me?" Kris asks.

"Yes," you confirm.

"...Mercury, please take a shower," Kris sighs.

You dig your claws into the carpet, stubbornly glowering at Kris as she betrays you with the threat of washing up. You showered like, three days ago! Even the people at that place didn't hose you down that often!

"Mercury, please," Kris groans. "I didn't want to mention it, but you kind of stink after dunking yourself in the ocean and running around all day. If we're going to be traveling together, and especially if we're going to be splitting the bed, you need to get clean."

"I don't need a bed," you tell her defiantly. "I'll sleep on the floor."

You do kind of wonder why Kris got a one-bed room, but you suppose the bed is way too big for one person. Kris seems very money-conscious, too, she was genuinely worried about the cost for a private room. You… suppose you have no idea how much it costs to rent one, but surely the money you got from beating Falkner covers things…? Money is weird. You're not really worried about it because you figure if you ever run out you could always just go beat up other trainers and/or eat people in the woods.

"Uugh," Kris groans. "Fine. If you're going to act like a Pokémon, I'll treat you like a Pokémon!"

You perk up a bit at that, your ears twitching happily. That's good! You've been trying to get her to do that!

"...And that means you get the spray shampoo," Kris finishes, pulling a can out of her bag.

Wait. Uh. Oh no.

"Come on, get over here," Kris orders, and because of her tone of voice you move to obey her automatically. You scuttle towards on all fours without even thinking about it, and by then it is too late. She grabs your shoulder to hold you steady and you flinch, trying to keep yourself perfectly still. She points the can at you and you close your eyes, expecting the incoming needle or clamp, but instead all that happens is a light, painless spray.

It dusts your hair with a strange something, and then before you know it Kris has a brush in her hand and she's attacking your tangles. It hurts a little, but in a good way, where each pull is something uncomfortable breaking in cathartic release. You melt, the sensation blooming across your head and down to your toes. Kris yelps a bit as you flop against her, but you mostly just register slight annoyance at the brushes briefly stopping.

"Woah, okay," Kris says, seeming surprised. "Not as bad as you thought, huh? I bought this stuff for my Mareep, you know."

You open your mouth to answer but the only sound that comes out is a rumbling vibration. And you know what? That's fine. Words are lame anyway. You prefer brushes.

"...Oh Arceus you're purring," Kris mumbles. "Is this real? This is actually purring? Gosh, uh, okay."

And then, proving she is the best friend ever, she continues brushing. You've brushed and combed your own fur before, but usually just when your fur is all soaked and heavy and everything feels miserable. Whatever Kris is using isn't even wet, and it doesn't have anywhere near as much of the horrible chemical smell that human shampoos have. It's… really nice.

"Okay, uh, roll over, I guess?" Kris orders, and you shift around to oblige, nuzzling her lap and purring louder. "Gosh, uh. This is really cute, Mercury, but it's also really weird."

"Pleas don stop," you mumble between purrs.

"...Dry shampoo isn't a replacement for rincing off in actual water, you know," Kris warns you. "You'll still have to take an actual bath eventually."

"I did," you rumble. "Got dunked. In ocean."

"That doesn't… er, wait, I guess that might count? Actually, do you have a microbiome in your fur that you need to maintain?"

"Whuh?" you ask elloquently, mostly just focused on the continues brushing.

"You know, like um… oh, wait, do you know?"

"Nnnnn."

"Oh, okay, it's, um… so there are like tiny organisms that are too small for people to see that collect on our bodies, and a lot of Pokémon have a collection of them that are actually symbiotic and important for their health, and washing too much can be bad for them. Are you like that?"

"I don't know," you answer. "Brush my back."

"Uh," Kris says, her low-level passive embarrassment quickly multiplying into high-level embarrassment. "I'm not… I mean, are you comfortable with…?"

What is she… oh you forgot about the clothes thing again. This sucks!

"Humans are so weird about clothes!" you whine. "So many rules! Just let me be cozy!"

"I mean, you're welcome to head into the bathroom and spray the rest of yourself down," Kris attempts to appease you. "You can borrow the brush, too. It's all really easy to use."

"Nooooo," you moan. "But my back will be so annoying to get!"

"You have telekinetic powers!" Kris protests.

You pout, rolling onto your back so you can pout directly at Kris. It's weird to be having this conversation with her, to be asserting yourself on something for once. But the moment you realize you are asserting yourself, it immediately becomes uncomfortable. Not the least because you realize Kris actually seems uncomfortable herself, her face flushed and her expression irritated. Oh, no. You've upset her. You made a mistake.

"Sorry," you apologize quickly, grabbing the can and the brush and rushing towards the bathroom. "Sorry."

"Wait!" Kris begins, and you freeze the moment the word leaves her mouth. "It's okay, Mercury, I'm sorry. I just… this is awkward for me. I don't really know how to treat you sometimes? And just… I don't know if I'm comfortable with… well, you know."

"No," you answer, doing your best not to break the brush in your ever-tightening grip. "I don't know. Stop saying I know. I don't know anything."

"Oh," she says. "Sorry. I, um… I just mean with you like, taking your shirt off and stuff. I guess, uh. I hope you didn't get the wrong impression from the bed thing, I'm used to sharing a bed with people on trips, but it's a very, uh, clothes-on sort of situation? You just put up a pillow divider and, uh. I'm sorry, I really should have communicated all this beforehand."

You still don't really know what she's talking about, but you're too exhausted to try and continue the conversation so you just walk into the bathroom and shut the door. Now alone, you finally peel off your disgusting outfit and start spraying yourself down the way Kris did, brushing your fur as you go to clean up the mats. Having to do it yourself is… not at all the same. But it's better than bathing, you suppose.

"Mercury?" Kris' slightly muffled voice asks from the other side of the door. "I… I'm sorry. Do you still want to be friends?"

What? You are exhausted and don't want to talk anymore, but she sounds actually worried so you force yourself to.

"Yes, I want to be friends," you tell her firmly. "I don't understand why you're asking me that."

"I… I don't know. I think maybe I misinterpreted a bunch of things."

"Probably," you agree. "Humans are bad at understanding people. I just liked getting brushed, that's all."

"But… you do understand what it means when you ask someone to touch you with your shirt off, right?"

"...Yes," you grumble. "It's a sex thing. Which I am not allowed to do for three more years. I know. I am just annoyed because I do not want to do any sex things. I am just very, very used to not wearing clothes and I find them uncomfortable but everybody just gets weird about things whenever I try to be comfortable anywhere and I hate it and I'm supposed to tell people when I hate things now but it doesn't matter and doesn't do anything even though it was fine for me to not wear any clothes for years and years and years at the place they changed me!"

Your breath comes out in huffs and puffs as you wait for a response in silence, only realizing belatedly that you raised your voice again. You hate that you raised your voice to Kris again. You aren't supposed to do that. You are a bad friend but it's just so hard trying to be human for her. It's so hard.

Kris stays quiet for a while, and you can't see her to read her emotions so you can only assume you've ruined everything forever. But eventually, her voice drifts back through the door, and she's not mad or disappointed in you. She's… worried about you.

"...Mercury, I…" Kris says, her voice quiet and small. "Can I ask how long you were kidnapped for?"

You fidget. Of course she can ask. But can you remember the number? …Yes. You can. Of course you can. You just don't want to.

"Eight years," you answer. More than half your life. You were kidnapped when you were seven years old.

"Oh," Kris whispers. "Oh, I didn't… I didn't know it was like that."

You can't help but frown. What did she think it was like, exactly?

"They kept you naked the whole time?" Kris asks.

"I had a smock at first," you admit. "But it didn't last for long. And then I was growing fur, so I guess they wanted to watch that."

You curl up on the floor next to the door. You don't like thinking about this. But you'll answer any questions you're asked. You have to answer any questions you're asked.

"I… I don't want to ask, Mercury, but did they… did they, um. Take… advantage of you?"

You hiss quietly. What a stupid question. They experimented on your body until your brain ate itself, how is that not 'taking advantage of you?' But of course you know what she means.

"Only one of the researchers ever saw me that way," you answer. "It was easy enough to tell, especially once the changes settled in. But he wasn't supposed to do anything like that to me, so he had to sneak into my cell with only his own Pokémon. That wasn't allowed, so he wasn't protected. I killed him and ate him. In the end, he only ever got to hurt me in the normal ways, with needles and scalpels and fights to the death. I wasn't even punished that badly for it."

"Y-you killed someone?" Kris gasps. "You ate them?"

"I am a weapon," you tell her. "I have killed a lot of people."

Another silence, but now you're too tired and numb to care if it means she hates you. She probably should hate you. You are very bad at being what she wants you to be.

"I feel like an idiot," Kris admits. "It would have been obvious that things were worse than I thought if I had bothered to think at all. I thought you were just a weird girl with powers, not… not this. Like, most people with powers are really weird, right? Nothing wrong with being weird! They don't normally eat people, though!"

"You eat people, too," you point out. "Pokémon-based food products are made of people."

"Oh, Arceus… but wait, don't Pokémon eat each other all the time?"

"Yes. I'm just saying that eating people isn't strange."

"I… I don't know how to respond to that," Kris admits. "I don't know how to respond to any of this."

Neither do you. And that, you suppose, is the problem.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong. I don't think I ever will. I don't even think I'm a person."

"Hey… Mercury, no," Kris insists. "Of course you're a person."

You can tell she means it as assurance, but it doesn't feel that way. It just feels like an impossible standard to live up to. Humans are people. Pokémon are people. And while you might be half of each, you're enough of neither. A failure at both. You were even too weak to be a good weapon.

"Do… do I have to be?" you ask quietly. "Do I have to be a person to be your friend?"

Kris barely speaks a syllable before cutting herself off, swallowing whatever her instinctive response was and settling into quiet thought.

"...No," Kris eventually decides. "I don't think you have to earn personhood, Mercury. You can talk and that's already more than enough for me. But I guess if you don't want it… you don't need it. Whatever that means to you."

You nod slowly. Okay. That… you can maybe work with that.

"Then I have not failed our friendship?" you ask.

"No, Mercury," Kris confirms. "You have not. Thank you for explaining things to me. It's all a little scary, but… it's better than not knowing."

"Okay, Kris," you say. "I am not good at explaining things but I will try to explain more things for you."

"Uh, thanks." A pause. "Well… I'm gonna head to bed, okay? You can come join me whenever you're ready. …Which, uh, means whenever you're clean."

Oh, right. Cleaning. Bleh. With great effort, you resume care of your fur, spraying and brushing until the tangles are smooth again and the smell is no longer as strong. You quietly call Blue after that, since he told you to, but after a quick congratulations on your gym victory he has to hang up. Nothing left to do, then. Hesitantly, you dress yourself again and head back into the room. Sure enough, Kris is curled up on one side of the bed, a barrier of pillows separating her from the other side.

You consider getting in the bed for a moment, because you're supposed to. That's what humans do. But instead you just crawl on top, curling up next to Kris' feet. This… feels better. This feels more you.

Whatever that means.

Chapter Text

You don't get much sleep, but you get enough sleep. Benefits of an inhuman sleep cycle, you suppose. …But also detriments, in some ways. As someone who only sleeps three hours a night, you're not sure what to do for the other five Kris is unconscious. You suppose you should train your team? You are a trainer, after all, and Wet needs to be acclimated and integrated into your battle plans. 

You slink off the bed, scribble a hopefully-legible note to Kris that you're out training, and collect your team to head outside. It's just after one in the morning, now, the darkness utterly consuming on the cloudy night. It suits you fine, though. You can see perfectly, and you're wide awake. Time to find a good spot for training. 

You're tempted to head to the shore to train Wet, but… no. He should learn to fight in hostile environments. Like complete darkness with bad footing! Yes, this is a good idea. You head deeper into the forest, pine needles scratching uselessly against your body as you push through the trees. You aren't worried about getting lost, not with the distinct smell of humans all wafting from the Pokémon center like a blaring warning siren. 

A Rattata tries to bite you (brave thing, but stupid) so you kick it half to death and force it to guide you to a nearby clearing that would be good for training. It serves passably, so you let it live, releasing all your Pokémon into the night. 

"Winter, Fall, cull the weak for power. Stay close if you can't see well. Wet, you will explain to me how you fight."

"Oh! Yes, strange master!" Wet agrees, his legs dancing up and down in sequence. "I am, as you certainly know from your acknowledgment of my prodigious talents, a master of ambush! I manipulate the energies within me to achieve MAXIMUM POWER before I deal a decisive, victorious blow!"

…Mmm. Energy-heightening moves. You know the human names for many: Swords Dance, Agility, Calm Mind, Howl… they are powerful tools. To focus one's energy that way requires intense focus, leaving the user open for attack, and the effects are fleeting at best. But they are powerful. Just a single use of certain techniques can make a Pokémon hit twice as hard, or even more! You are… begrudgingly impressed. The idea of stacking numerous empowerments before a fight, achieving maximum strength before the battle can even be begun… it would require impeccable timing on the part of the user, taking quite a while to set up for a window of five, maybe ten seconds to act. But the results would be devastating. The swift obliteration of foes far above one's usual power level would be easily within reach. There's just one major problem. 

"Combat with Pokémon Trainers does not allow a period of time to set up," you tell him. "There are no ambushes. Any time you are able to focus energy, you are also a known threat, vulnerable to attack. How skilled are you at using such abilities under pressure?"

"Er…" Wet hedges. "Well, my shell is quite sturdy! I'm sure I could manage a hit or two while I focus my power! Motionlessly!"

Hnngh. That is not acceptable. Wet is going to require a lot of personalized training…

"You would die," you tell Wet bluntly. "I will have to teach you to adapt."

"I… am not sure I can focus my energy while dodging attacks, strange master," Wet hedges. 

"I know," you grunt. "It is not impossible, but you will always struggle to defend yourself. I have exploited this many times. But. There is a way to minimize the risk."

You point at his claws, wisps of Ghost energy leaking out from your body.

"Make them fear you," you hiss. "I will make you mighty, even without empowerments. And so when your opponent flees from you, seeking the safety of retreat… you will seize the opportunity to become even stronger, and make them regret it. This, I can teach."

"Y-yes, strange master!"

And so you do, working your team to the point of exhaustion, plus a little bit further. You know to watch their limits a little more closely now, to not let them literally struggle themselves unconscious, but the urge to get as close as possible is hard to deny. Battle is life or death. Worth or worthlessness. It is not enough to merely win; one must win, then win again, then keep winning a thousand times until there are no more battles left at all. That truth pulses within you, that terror of failure, and you only let it simmer away when the sun finally rises and you realize Kris is probably about to wake up. 

The Nurse Joy gives you a look of concern when you return, covered in twigs and leaves and with three exhausted Pokémon, but she does not say you abused them. Good. A failure successfully avoided. You head upstairs to your temporary room and open the door, causing Kris to let out an 'eep!' and jump a little from where she had been packing. She looks at you with surprise, and then relief.

"Oh, good," she sighs. "You're okay." 

"Yes?" you confirm, tilting your head. "Did you read my note?"

"I… barely managed, yes," she says. "Um… you probably need a few spelling lessons, though. …And handwriting lessons." 

"I do not want to go back to school," you tell her, wrinkling your nose. "I'm not good at it anymore."

"Did you used to be?" Kris asks. 

You hesitate, wringing your hands together. 

"I think so?" you manage. "I used to be better at reading and writing, I think."

Kris purses her lips. She knows you were kidnapped when you were seven. Meaning your current reading level is… not very good. 

"I see," she says. "Well, you should probably keep practicing. I know it's hard, but practice should still make you better, right?"

You shrug noncommittally. It's entirely possible your brain is too messed up to ever be better than you currently are. It just doesn't remember the symbols well, they're too arbitrary. They're just lines. They don't have real meaning. Meaning comes from people, from feelings, from smells and impressions and movements and thoughts. Not… squiggles. But you don't know how to say any of that and don't particularly want to struggle through trying. 

"...Well, let's head to Azalea town," Kris sighs. So you do. 

Traveling, at least, is pleasant. The short walk to the cave is bright and green and full of good scents, while the cave itself is delightfully cool and dark. You almost wish you were traveling alone so that Kris couldn't insist on using flashlights but the loss of total darkness is certainly worth the presence of your only friend. The feelings Kris has for you are certainly complicated—worry, fear, confusion, and frustration all swirling in her mood to some degree of prominence—but despite the negative feelings you can still tell that she cares. She considers you a friend. Therefore, you're her friend. And that matters to you a lot.

A short way through the cave, the smell of human blood catches your attention, and you casually guide Kris towards it. You're not even sure why, it's just an odd thing to smell. Before long you find an unconscious human being fed on by Zubat, his head bleeding from a concussion he probably gave himself after getting hit with a confusion-inducing move. Kris freaks out and immediately moves to attack the Zubat, which confuses you a little but you see no reason not to help. She then insists on dropping everything to carry the man back to the Pokémon center. You ask if she knows him. She says no and is very concerned by your question for some reason, so you decide to not ask any more questions and just do what she says. It's easy enough to pick the man up and carry him back. Humans are pretty light. 

"I-I can't believe that happened," Kris stammers after you drop the man on a gurney and allow the nurses to cart him off. "Arceus, if we hadn't run into him he would have died. This is a primary route, th-the rangers should have chased off anything dangerous…" 

"Everything is dangerous," you frown. 

"W-what do you mean?" she asks. 

Hnngh. You thought you were pretty clear. How can you say it better than that?

"Everything is dangerous," you repeat. "A newborn Caterpie is dangerous. The Zubat who attacked him were no stronger than any other Zubat we've seen today. Any mistake, no matter how small, can lead to death."

"But it's not supposed to be like that," Kris insists. 

You flinch. How could you not? Your body isn't 'supposed' to be like this. Your mind isn't 'supposed' to be like this. Your life isn't 'supposed' to be like this. When has what is supposed to be mattered to you? 

But you don't say these things. You just shrug and ask if Kris is okay with resuming travel. 

"I… I don't know," she shudders. "Shouldn't we wait for the rangers to clear the cave, or something?"

You frown. She wasn't listening. Those Zubats weren't special. They were just hungry, and the human was just weak. You, however, are not weak. 

"I will kill anything that tries to hurt you," you say. "Anything that approaches you."

You would fight and kill and devour the whole cave, if needed. Every last Pokémon between here and your destination. Because the Rangers are doing their jobs. This route is for humans. Anything that could pose a threat to you here has already been culled.

It's honestly kind of annoying. It was nearly impossible getting stronger at that place, where other things made sure to soak up all the power that was rightfully yours by conquest. Now, though, you are stuck being weak simply because you have no worthy prey. But you have no illusions that you are dangerous in the grand scheme of things. It should not take long to find foes stronger than you on this journey. If not before Goldenrod, then perhaps after. 

You blink, the thought having taken you by surprise. After Goldenrod? You have no orders for after Goldenrod. But… still. The thought of continuing to train and fight and travel is… it's something. And Blue would be happy if you got more badges. You could tell he was proud when you spoke of the Zephyr badge. So perhaps… you will keep getting more. 

"...Please don't kill any Po—I mean, please don't kill any people for my sake, Mercury," Kris mutters. "I guess Pokémon don't deserve to die any more than the guy we rescued does, right?"

You frown, not really understanding that. But you nod at her anyway. She is not Worthy to command you, but… you can listen to what she wants anyway. Because she's your friend. 

"No killing for your sake," you agree. "I will try to scare them off, instead."

"Thanks, Mercury," Kris nods. 

You don't really need to eat all that much anyway. 

---

Union cave, as predicted, is not difficult to traverse. It's more or less a straight shot through, and apparently calm enough that some trainers actually challenge you and your team to sparring matches in the middle of the wilderness. It's a bit uncanny. Do they not know that they will be preyed upon if their Pokémon all faint? Kris has to be the one to point out to you that they're challenging you with only a fraction of their team; two or three Pokémon they've brought out for training, while the others wait on their belt in reserve in case they need to retreat to the admittedly-closeby Pokémon center. You suppose you never really thought of doing stuff like that, since if your entire team faints you're still just as capable without them. 

…Which is probably why you just leave them out of their Pokéballs while you travel, Winter and Wet fighting as many things as they can while you carry Fall and train him where appropriate, mostly by telling him to try and intercept any ranged attacks he can—be they at him or your other teammates—with Pin Missile. Your entire team is exhausted when you finally spot the sun again, though it's only late afternoon by the time you make it to Route 33. 

Route 33 is… oddly calm. The few Pokémon that are here hide from you, delicious fear radiating off of the few you spot. But it's not a personal fear, it is not as though they know you. They are just… afraid. Hmm. You decide to keep an eye out. 

"Hey, kids!" a voice calls out as you approach Azalea Town. "Want some Slowpoke tail?" 

A human approaches you, swaggering with an air of arrogance that you don't particularly like. However, in his hand, he holds a delicious- smelling tail, raw and bloody and inviting. 

"Yes," you confirm immediately, holding out your hands for the morsel and approaching. "I want it." 

"Woah!" Kris says, interposing herself between you and food, like a fool. "Mercury, wait. That stuff is expensive. How much do you want for it?"

He lists a number that you have no real context for, but Kris gets indignant immediately, convinced that this is a Bad Man trying to exploit you. You frown and pay a bit more attention to him, even though you'd rather just take his food. He's not very Worthy, he's not aggressive, and he's covered in the scent of Pokémon blood. No red flags so far. But it seems true that he considers you to not be an ally so much as something he can profit from. He's fundamentally rather selfish, in a shallow and boring way. You put your hand on Kris's shoulder.

"Why would you expect anyone to have that much, let alone a pair of one-badge trainers, you ridiculous—oh, uh, Mercury?" 

"Thank you," you say. "Let's leave." 

"Oh," Kris blinks. "Yeah, okay." 

You depart from the grifter, making your way into town. Your team is exhausted, but you're feeling rather refreshed after a nice walk, your tail swishing invisibly behind you. The sun will set soon, so you and Kris make your way to the Pokémon center, handing your teams over for healing. 

Azalea Town is smaller, comfier, and far better-smelling than Violet City. It doesn't even have paved roads or concrete sidewalks; just compacted dirt and fresh grass that barely even feels like a city. It is a city of course, the scent of humanity is thick, but it's not in an oppressive way, that chokes the world with Steel and Poison energy. You like it here. 

Though speaking of smells… your nose twitches and you can't help but sniff around the Pokémon center as something familiar tickles your senses. You'd know that arrogant sweaty musk anywhere.

"Uh… you caught a trail or something, girl?" Kris asks you, smirking like she just told some sort of joke. She hands you your Pokéballs, freshly healed from the nurse. 

"Yes," you tell her, taking your team and walking out of the Pokémon center. She blinks, but follows after you. 

The smell leads you towards one of the houses at the northwest part of town, and sure enough you find Silver there, arguing with an old man. The house has a calm feeling, almost Grass-aligned, and the whole place smells like apricorns. 

"—with an attitude like that," the old man snaps, at Silver, the two of them apparently finishing up an argument. 

"What does my attitude have to do with my skill as a trainer!?" Silver demands. 

"If you have to ask, you damn well don't have any business asking for custom Pokéballs."

"Why!?" Silver snaps. "If you're so insistent that I'm lacking something, why can't you at least explain what it is?"

Hmm. The old man does not have Worthiness as a trainer, but he's definitely the source of the good feelings around here. He must own the home. You decide to stay hidden and listen to what he has to say, so you motion Kris away from approaching and hide both of you behind an illusion. 

"You're not entitled to the partnership of a Pokémon, brat!" the old man snaps. "You will never be a good trainer as long as you keep believing you are. Now quit bothering me. This town has enough problems without you insisting on my time!" 

"I don't think I'm entitled to… ugh," Silver groans. "Look old man, I need those Pokéballs. Just tell me what I need to do in order to convince you to give me some."

"I suggest leaving me alone and never coming back," the old man grunts. 

"...You aren't even trying to be helpful," Silver scowls. 

"And what have you done to deserve any effort from me, boy?" the man demands. 

"Fine then," Silver growls, his hand moving towards Sneasel's Pokéball. "If you won't help me, I'll help myself. Never expected otherwise, really."

You scowl. Is he really going to…? He is! He releases Sneasel in a flash of light, the dark type Pokémon already clanging its claws together in an intimidating display. Well, you've been meaning to get that Sneasel back anyway. You Quick Attack forward, shifting your illusion back to your human guise as you kick the Sneasel in the back of the head, launching him across the yard as you telekinetically hit the buttons on all your Pokéballs, surrounding yourself with your team as you square up against Silver. 

"No," you growl at him. 

He's shocked to see you, as is the old man. You're finally starting to figure out what's going on here: Silver has been talking about Pokéballs, after all, and you know that he knows he needs a custom-made one to catch you while you have your necklace on. Ridiculous!

"Wh—Mercury!?" Silver yelps.

"That is my name," you confirm. "Also: you are stupid."

"Am I now," he says, hands moving to his other Pokéballs.

"Yes," you growl. "You are proving you aren't Worthy. Stand down or I will be angry."

The old man smells nice and is nice and you aren't going to let Silver hurt him. You aren't even entirely sure why you feel so strongly about this, you'd normally leave humans to get attacked if they have nothing to do with you. But… not this man. It's not right. He's special somehow, you can feel it. 

Sneasel tries to stand up, but you just point and Fall unloads a barrage of Pin Missile. Silver ends up having to recall the Dark type. 

"Okay, okay, fuck," Silver grimaces, looking away. "Sorry." 

"Don't lie to me," you hiss, your fur bristling under the illusion. "You are not. "

"Why the fuck do you even care?" Silver demands.

"Quit being a jerk!" Kris shouts, running up as well. "What the heck, Silver? You can't threaten an old man into giving you what you want! I'm so sorry sir, we'll get him out of your hair." 

"I don't have much of that anymore," the old man smirks at Kris. "But thank you, young ladies. I was about ready to beat the boy down myself." 

You blink, turning around to look at the old man. Weak. Partnerless. Unworthy.

"...You would die?" you tell him, quirking your head in confusion. He snorts, not disagreeing but also not seeming to care. Frightening.

"What the fuck are you even doing here, Mercury?" Silver asks. You turn back to look at him. 

"Smelled you," you answer. "Followed scent." 

"...Why?" 

You blink. Why did you come out to meet Silver? You just sort of smelled him and immediately decided this meant you should go meet him. Is he Worthier than you thought? …No, that's not it. He's still weak. He has no authority over you. You just sort of did it because…

"I wanted to see you?" you conclude. 

Silver scowls, not seeming to know how to answer that. 

"...You do understand why I came here, right?" SIlver asks. "That's Kurt. He's a master Apricorn Ball crafter. Y'know, a guy who makes Pokéballs without any of the fancy storage system linkups?" 

"And that is why you are a fool," you grin at him. "There is no point in having a Pokéball if you cannot defeat your quarry in battle. Weakling."

You already told him. He's welcome to catch you… if he's ever able to. Silver glares at you furiously, but he knows you're right. 

"Also, I beat you again," you say. "Buy me more ice cream."

"I don't… do they even have that in this backwater?" Silver sighs.

"Grandpa!" a young voice suddenly shouts. "Grandpa, they took Pokey!" 

A little girl rushes past you, practically tackling Kurt into a sobbing hug. 

"I-I was trying to let Pokey out somewhere so h-he could get some water b-but they found us! They found us and they took him and they're going to cut his tail off and—"

"Those Team Rocket bastards," Kurt growls, grinding his teeth. 

And the world stops. Did… did he say Team Rocket?  

Team Rocket is here!?

Chapter Text

"This way, eighty-one."

Fear claws through you, like the scrape of stone on metal. 

"Time for combat testing, eighty-one."

Team Rocket is here. They created that place. They'll send you back. 

"They'll have us discontinue you at this rate, eighty-one."

You want to freeze. You want to flee. You want to do anything other than face the reality that they are here, and they created you, and you are a failure. A case study. Something to be tested and analyzed and torn apart until it breaks.

"Silence, eighty-one. Do not speak unless spoken to."

You are not a person. You were, once, but they took that from you. They take that from everyone they can. 

"Eighty-one."

Not again.

"Eighty-one!"

Not again!

"Mercury!"

Never again! Never, never, never, never—

"Mercury!" a shout finally pierces through your haze of memories. "Mercury, are you okay? You—ack!"

Kris pulls her hand away from your shoulder, frost coating her fingers as the Ghost energy roiling off you burns her flesh like acid. Your friend's pain snaps you back into the here and now, shame and confusion shaking your mind into functionality. You're hyperventilating, shaking, and even your illusion wavers under the panic in your mind. You force it back into compliance, clenching every muscle in your body tight as you reassert control over yourself. You must. If they see that you aren't in control, you'll be punished. 

Because they're here. 

"Holy shit! You alright, Kris?" Silver says, pulling you back to reality again.

"I… I think so," Kris responds, slowly flexing her frosted fingers. Oh. Oh! You did that! Oh, no!

"Sorry," you blurt. "Sorry. I… sorry." 

You reach out, tempted to do something to help, but there isn't really anything you can do. You don't know how to fix anything. 

"What… just happened?" the nice-smelling old man frowns. "May I see your hand, miss?"

Kris nods and lets him poke at her fingers, wincing slightly with every touch. He brushes the frost away, revealing cold, discolored flesh.

"...Let's get you to the Pokémon center," the old man says. "I think you'll be alright, but you'll need these checked out and bandaged at the very least. And you young folk should keep your Pokémon out and about. It seems there's a ghost around here." 

"It's my fault," Silver lies, looking away with his hands in his pockets. "My Gastly did it."

Oh. He's covering for you. Kris doesn't believe him, but the nice-smelling human does. 

"I ought to take you right to the police, young man."

"Don't call me 'young man' like I'm your grandkid," Silver sneers. "Go ahead and try to get me arrested. I'm sure your local pigs are super competent, what with Team Rocket apparently stealing Pokémon from right under your noses."

"Do you not have a shred of remorse, you foolish child? This girl could have lost her fingers."

You stiffen further, miserably staring at the ground. You're such a failure, just like you've always been. Silver glances at you and sighs.

"...Sorry," he says. "You're right. I went too far. I'll stay out of your hair, old man." 

"Hmm. Just like that?"

"What can I say?" Silver shrugs. "When someone as stupid as Mercury tells me I'm being an idiot, I kind of have to wonder if she's actually right. And she is. Bullying weaklings like you and Kris isn't the path to power." 

"I'm not weak," Kris mutters. 

"Whatever."

Conversation trails off as you make it to the Pokémon center. You sit down in the lobby, your mind blank and your anxiety boiling, as Kris is led into the back. The nice old man leaves, and Silver, to your surprise, comes to sit down next to you after dropping off his own Pokémon. 

"Hey," he says.

You don't answer. Talking is too much right now.

"You, uh…" he mutters, scratching the back of his head. "...You okay?"

You glance up at him. Team Rocket is here. Somewhere, in this town, they're here. You wonder how many of the ones you knew survived. Silver fidgets across from you, sucking on the inside of his cheek as he tries to figure out how to continue the conversation by himself.

"...It's the well, I think," he decides on.

You blink. What?

"Team Rocket," he says, and you flinch. "They're probably set up in Slowpoke Well. The guy out front was just that type, you know? A guard as much as a salesman. And if there really are a ton of Slowpoke in Slowpoke Well, then… that's a lot of money. Slowpoke tails are illegal here, but they're a delicacy in Kanto where they're much rarer. So even if there's no chance the people of Azalea Town are buying, they just have to ship it over the mountains, and…"

He gestures vaguely, implying that he expects you to already understand how he was going to end that sentence. You don't. 

"Anyway, I don't think they're here for you," he says. "In fact, I don't think they know you're here at all. This is a quick snatch-and-grab scheme, it's gonna be entirely low-level grunts and maybe one shitty admin."

You stare at him, still not quite understanding why he's talking to you about all this. He frowns, scratching the back of his head. 

"...What I'm saying," he continues, "is that the Rockets here are weak. So knowing that, I was thinking… maybe we should go kick their asses."

Your breath catches. Weak? They're weak?

"Don't you think they should get a taste of what they deserve?" Silver says quietly. "I do. None of these guys are the people that made you or me, but the work they do? It funds everything. They're responsible."

Made Silver? No. Wait. That's not important. The monsters that made you, the people that took your personhood, they aren't just here—they're vulnerable. And that changes everything. You feel your fur start to bristle as the implications of Silver's words finally swim between the cracks of your trauma and start to form into coherent ideas. 

Your ideas, in general, are very simple.

"I think that if we work together… uh. Mercury, where are you…?"

You're already standing up and moving to leave, your breath heavy and cold in your mouth. It's so obvious. It's so obvious, why didn't you think of it before? Of course Team Rocket isn't just a monolithically powerful force. He was needed to hold you back. His team was the threat that kept you in line. And without him, they're as vulnerable as a Turtwig's underbelly, full of nothing but weak skin and fresh meat.  

You've never felt this way before. You've never realized that people other than Blue could face Team Rocket and actually fight back. But it's so obvious now. It's so obvious. You head out of the Pokémon Center, turning east. 

"Mercury!" Silver calls out, getting up to follow you and almost reaching out to grab your shoulder before remembering what that did to Kris' hand. "Wait, hold up. They're weak, but there's a lot of them. We should team up."

Something boils in you like never before, the well of energy inside you churning with raw, unfettered malice. But still, you stop for him, tilting your head back to look at the human boy who wants to own you. The boy that knows enough about Team Rocket's operations to tell you all of this in the first place. He's associated with them; you know he is, he can't hide how he feels about them from you. But whatever his history with them, his only current feelings about Team Rocket are hate. And that's all you need to know to trust him. 

"I don't know how to fight as a team," you admit. 

"Then follow my lead," he insists. 

"No," you answer bluntly. "You are not worthy."

"Again with that shit," he sighs. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

You nod. You never expected anything else. 

"You are frail," you remind him. "Stay away from me as we fight. And…"

You release Fall from his Pokéball, and hand the empty ball to Silver. 

"Protect this human," you order Fall. "You will not allow a single attack to reach him."

"I don't need—"

"Silver," you say softly, but your tone still cuts his words short, "are you strong enough to tell me what you do and do not need in a battle?"

He stiffens, his face twisting into a snarl. But he swallows his pride and concedes the point with a sigh, and you can't help but let a smile creep onto your face. This is why, though you know he isn't worthy, there's still something about him that makes you think he might be someday. You're not sure where the instinct comes from, but you feel a desire for him to grow that you don't get with other humans. And where will he find power, if not in a struggle to the death? 

You are strong. But there is more to strength than simply collecting the energy of the fallen. Someday, your strength will plateau without someone to guide it. That is, you are starting to suspect, what it means to be worthy. A worthy human is one that acts as the other half of the whole, a catalyst without which a Pokémon can never reach the heights of their potential. You aren't sure if it will work with you. You aren't sure if something as broken as you can ever be completed. But you have no reason not to try. 

You wait, your body shivering with a need for violence, until Silver retrieves his Pokémon from the nurse. Kris will apparently be okay. That's good. You know you'll feel terrible about hurting her when this is all over, but right now it's difficult to think about her at all. Team Rocket is here. They're here, right now. 

And they must die. 

You and Silver go to the well. It's time. It's time. The man—the guard—says something to you, but you bury your claws in his throat, tearing out his larynx. He dies without a sound, unable to release a single Pokémon to defend him before he falls. Silver freezes.

"What the fuck?" he hisses, but you just continue on, walking to the well and ignoring the ladder as you jump down. He has to use the ladder to follow you—and it satisfies you that he does so without hesitation—but now that you're at the bottom, you have no more thoughts in your head left for Silver. 

Two dozen men and women in black uniforms stare at you, a crimson "R" on each of their chests. A common sight, back at that place, and for a moment terror grips you. For a moment, you think you're about to go back. The room is thick with the smell of blood, crying Slowpoke lamenting the loss of their tails at the hands of greedy, human butchers. 

"Who the fuck are you?" one of the Rockets snaps, and he smells of unearned bravado, a concoction of fearless ignorance and aggression mixed with the unmistakable scent of an unworthy weakling. 

"Winter, Wet," you call, releasing the two Pokémon you have with you and dropping your backpack onto the floor. "Engage as you see fit, and do not disappoint me with your death. I will be giving you no orders for this battle." 

"None, oh glorious trainer?" Wet asks, surprised. 

"You barely give us orders anyway!" Winter complains. 

"Hey! I asked who the fuck you are!" the Rocket member repeats, Pokémon around the room being released in droves. Zubat, Koffing, Drowzee, weak, weak, weak…! You see no need to acknowledge them. You take a deep breath with lungs you barely still require, assessing threats before the start of the carnage like you would when you and your foes were still in cages. 

"Zubat, knock this deaf bitch out!" a Rocket orders, and it begins. She flies close to strike you with a Supersonic, and you seize her from the air with Psychic power, ravage her mind, and leave her twitching on the ground. The threat is neutralized.

The battle begins, and you see no reason to waste time with words. You leap forward, your illusion splitting away from your body in a cloud of malice, rushing a group of three different Pokémon and dissolving their pathetic energy reserves into nothing before finally dissipating. Hate powers you like it never has before, fueling your Ghost-type moves to new heights as the unfairness, the torment, the agony of your life gains an outlet for you to punish for the first time. Nothing here can even slow you down, and you tear through Rattata after Rattata before tearing their trainers in half. 

"What the fuck!? What the fuck is that!?" some fool shrieks rather than using the breath for something useful. "Koffing, Selfdestruct!"

Not a threat. The unmitigated burst of Normal energy sweeps over you and obliterates your clothes but does far more damage to other Team Rocket members than the grand total of nothing it does to your defenses, the Ghost energy greedily consuming it all into nonexistence. The burst of light and sound temporarily renders you unable to detect what's going on, but you just continue firing ranged attacks at the locations you believe your targets are most likely to be in and dodge sporadically until your senses are back. Embarrassingly, your opponents don't even try to capitalize; they stunned themselves for longer than they stunned you. 

Swipe, shoot, smash. Kill after kill after kill, you wade through the room, venting your fury with silent lethality, showing Team Rocket the very thing they made you to do. You're dimly aware that Silver and his team are behind you, coordinating with Winter and Wet to take down whatever stragglers try to escape or flank you from behind. It mostly doesn't matter; it's not as though attacking you from behind would help.

"This is Executive Proton!" one of the targets yells into a gray box. "I've got a code red and a code white! We are under assault, I repeat, we—"

He screams, dropping the box as you clip him with a blast of shadow, barely missing the kill as a lucky Zubat bites hard into your arm. A flare of psychic power fries his brain and you claw through the woman ordering him around a moment later. Silver was right. They really are all weak. These opponents might have trainers guiding their growth, but they're barely stronger than the Pokémon outside New Bark Town. 

"Silver!" the box man shrieks. "Silver, is that you? I surrender! I surrender, call that thing off!"

Silver refuses to look his way, a grimace on his face. He knows he can't stop you. You're surprised to know he wants to. Well, maybe this will be motivation for him. You finish neutralizing other targets and approach 'Executive Proton' a bit more slowly. Your fur is soaked with blood, surrounded as you are by Pokémon that may as well be newborns and humans that may as well be paper. 

"W-wait, please!" Proton begs, scrambling away from you. "Please, I surrender! Please! Silver!"

You can't tell if it's stupid or smart that the man ignores you and keeps addressing Silver. Silver, after all, did not just slaughter the last of his allies. You suppose Silver is the only person here that might be willing to talk to the man, but your red-haired friend just shrugs. 

"...Sorry," Silver says quietly, a dull horror in his voice. You stop and look back at him, surprised to see him trying to hold back a clear urge to vomit. …Or at least, it's clear to you. "I didn't realize it would be this bad. But at this point, I don't think it would be smart to leave witnesses to something like this." 

You tilt your head to the side, flicking an ear in confusion. He didn't realize it would be like this? What did he think you were going to do? Still, he clearly wants to let Proton live. How odd.

"...You don't want me to," you point out, the words slow and scratchy and difficult to pull from your mouth. "Why?"

"Arceus's all-type turds, that thing talks," Proton whispers, but you ignore him. 

"I…" Silver says haltingly, swallowing nervously. "I don't know. He's kind of like an older brother to me. Or a weird, sociopathic cousin."

"Yeah! Yeah, Silvie! We're like family, right?" the human begs irrelevantly. You turn to glower at him. 

"Proton, if you are at all capable of shutting the fuck up, now is the point you want to employ that skill," Silver sighs, his eyes flicking everywhere in the room in a desperate attempt to avoid looking at blood. 

"Come on, Silvie, don't be like that!" Proton continues desperately. Hmm. A poor listener. Poor listeners get punished. "I practically helped raise you!"

Silver stiffens. It seems Proton's statement is both true and not at all a point in the man's favor. This is getting annoying. You will silence the Rocket soon. But still, you want to know.

"Why?" you repeat to Silver. "You don't like him. You don't think he should live. You don't want him to die. Are these things not contradicting?"

"That—that's fucking normal for humans, Mercury!" he snaps. "It's not an easy thing to just kill someone, let alone someone you know!"

"Yes it is," you point out, your head tilting again. "Humans are extremely fragile." 

"That's not what I mean!"

You know that. You know he meant it isn't easy for him emotionally. But you aren't sure why.  

"You were raised by the people that made me," you tell him. "The people that made me ensured that I would be adept at this very task. Did they not do the same for you?"

"...They did," Silver confirms through gritted teeth. "Proton helped quite a bit at that, actually. But it was always about killing Pokémon, not people."

"Pokémon are people," you remind him, and he flinches again. Oh. You see. "You know they're people. You've started to believe me."

"Don't be stupid," Silver snaps, but he's doing the human thing where he says words that aren't his true feelings. You can't help but smile at that. He believes you. That makes you so happy. 

"If you've already killed so many Pokémon, what's wrong with killing a person?" you ask him, your tail twitching.  

"Shut up!" he growls. "That's not what this is about." 

"Yeah, this is about whether I live or die!" Proton says, his voice cracking a little. "And may I just say, I'd really like to live? I cannot overemphasize how that would be mighty preferable!" 

"I told you to shut up!" Silver shouts. 

"What, so you can just decide my fate alone with your pet living weapon?" Proton counters back. "You think I don't deserve as much of a say in my own survival as fucking Subject Eighty-One? It doesn't even have a brain anymore, kid! Use yours!" 

You turn back to the Rocket, your fur bristling. How dare he call you that. How dare he.  

"Arceus above, you really, actually just can't shut up, can you?" Silver groans. "Your life is literally on the line and you still can't stop acting like a complete fucking asshole." 

"What the fuck do you expect me to do? You're acting insane! You're talkin' to a monster about killing your own family, Silvie! How did you even get that thing, I thought that former champion asshole got his hands on it. Your mom told me she didn't ever wanna give it to you, she told me it'd fuck you up in the head. I wanted to tell her no ma'am your son is too much of a damn woman for her to have to worry about you fuckin' much of anything, but hell, here we are! Your mom's a wise, wise lady, and fool on me for doubting her."

Anger blooms up in Silver, which makes you relax slightly. That's more like the Silver you know.

"What part of anything you just said makes you think I'm going to be more inclined to spare you!?" he snaps.

"Because, boy, you damn well know that you fucked up," Proton answers, confidence returning to him. "You run off with a rare Pokémon all by yourself, and for what? You had no plan, no preparation, no support, and now look at you! Clothes you haven't changed in weeks, hair grown out like a queer, and now you're covered in the fuckin' blood of the people you were raised to lead because you can't even control your own mutant without talking out yer fuckin' feelings over twenty corpses and a million dollars of ruined profit! Now recall your thing, get your ass over here, and let's go home, alright? Get you fed and bathed and night's rest in something other than a Pokémon Center bathroom. I mean hell, Silvie! Your mom's been so worried about you she won't even give a shit about all this mess, as long as her boy comes home." 

He motions out into the room, still drowning in the blood and offal of your vengeance. Satisfied with the sight, you lick your claws. You have been very, very patient. More patient than you needed to be. But things will be coming to a close soon. 

"...You're right," Silver says quietly. "She really wouldn't care, would she? She wouldn't care about any of this."

"'Course not," Proton smiles. "You're what matters. Your dad might even be proud of you for runnin' off like this, grabbin' some power of your own. It ain't a bad way to do it." 

"Yeah," Silver agrees. "I guess that's how our family has always been, huh? Nothing that happened here matters, in the end. Not the money, and not the deaths." 

"It's all just a means to an end, Silvie," Proton confirms, a hint of pride blooming inside him. "A real man keeps his eye on the prize."

"Yeah," Silver agrees with a nod. "Yeah, I guess a real man does. Kill him, Mercury." 

"Wh—" 

You don't even let him finish a syllable. Your Aerial Ace is swift, exact, and lethal. Proton's head falls from his shoulders, and his body collapses along with it. Silver stares at the corpse, an urge to vomit flooding through his body and getting suppressed by sheer force of will. Silver stares at what was a man he knew for nearly his entire life, demanding himself to watch the lifeblood pour out of him. He stares at it all: the startled, glassy gaze, the pool of red soaking through his clothes, the tangled heap of limbs that his body has been reduced to, and he commits it all to memory. Until every last detail is burned into his mind, he refuses to look away. 

You let him, seeing no reason not to. 

"...Alright," Silver says quietly, after many minutes of silence. "Let's go."

You nod and follow him, recalling your personal Pokémon team and feeling more relaxed than you have in weeks. Team Rocket was here, your greatest fear in the world was here, and you slaughtered them all. Never in your entire life have you felt more empowered, and the literal power you soaked up from defeating so many Pokémon doesn't hurt either. The two of you head up the ladder in silence, but when you reach the top you can't help but ask the one question that has been burning on your mind since that conversation started. 

"Why did he call you 'Silvie?'" you ask. That is, after all, not his name. 

"Huh?" Silver asks, blinking in confusion for a moment. He seems to not be thinking well right now? "Oh. That. Um, one year when I was a kid I asked for a Sylveon for my birthday. But my dad said that wasn't an appropriate Pokémon for me, and Proton made fun of me for it ever since."

He pauses, swallowing a large lump of nothing. 

"...That guy really was an asshole," he finishes quietly. 

"He seemed unkind," you agree. 

Silver laughs, though it is the kind that lacks humor. 

"Do you think you're kinder?" he asks. 

"I am as kind as they made me to be," you answer. He stares at you for a while, and then gives you a firm nod. 

"...Yeah," he agrees. "I guess that makes two of us." 

You walk in silence for a few more minutes. It's nice. You're happy with today. Silver doesn't seem to be happy, but he seems like he's decided on something important, and that's more than you've ever done. You're happy for him, too. 

"Do you, uh," Silver mumbles awkwardly, "do you think we should tell someone about all the corpses at the bottom of the well? After we… clean up all the blood on us, I mean." 

Wait. Oh no. Oh no, this is terrible! Does this mean… you're going to have to take a shower!? 

You take it all back! Today is the worst!

Chapter Text

Uuuuugh. Everything is so heavy!  

It's not that you have anything against water, and it's certainly not that you have anything against being clean. But the process of cleanliness always, always ends up with this horrible situation, stinking of human chemicals and absolutely crushed by the startling amount of water your fur soaks up and refuses to let go of. It's the worst. The absolute worst!

"It IS the worst!" Winter agrees. "The absolute worst! At least the water's cold, though. The only thing more awful than a shower is a hot shower."

You flick your tail in agreement. You figure that if you needed to endure the pain of getting clean, the rest of your Pokémon need to as well. It's a bit cramped in the Pokémon Center shower with Winter, Fall, and Wet joining you, but it makes the experience a little more bearable. Winter's incredibly correct opinions about the whole situation are nice to commiserate with, though Fall seems mostly indifferent and Wet is having an enormous amount of fun being his namesake. Which is kind of weirdly endearing in its own way, you have to admit. If only he would stop scuttling under your feet and brushing up against you. 

"Ah, the joyous splash of frigid liquid against my carapace! Such beauty, from a man-made waterfall! Such ingenuity! Are humans not grand, strange master?"  

Hmm. Yeah. Humans are pretty neat, it's true. They can be confusing and stupid sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) but you still enjoy their company a lot when they aren't trapping you in a cage and torturing you for years. It's a shame you aren't one anymore. 

Combing all your soaking-wet fur is a pain in the butt, but eventually you manage. It takes nearly two hours for you to finish your shower, and when you finally step out you know you'll be sopping wet for a long time after that, too. You wrap yourself up in towels as best you can so as to not ruin the carpet with all the dripping water (Aunt Tess is very firm about actions that supposedly risk ruining the carpet) and walk out into the private room you rented. 

"Holy shit, you're finally done," Silver says, looking up at you and immediately snorting to hold in a laugh. "Oh geez, you look horrible, hahaha. Arceus, are you really that thin underneath all the poof?" 

"This was your idea," you grumble. "Just go get clean."

It wasn't difficult heading into the Pokémon center and getting a room while completely covered in blood; you are, after all, an incredibly powerful illusionist, and hiding Silver and yourself underneath one while you rent a room for the night is well within your power. Silver asked you to make him invisible because he insisted the Pokémon center wouldn't rent you a room if you showed up alone with a boy (for reasons he wouldn't explain) but you can't do invisibility so you just made him look like Kris. He protested, but only in the not-actually-real way so you ignored him. Besides, it's efficient; you want to share a room with Kris again tonight anyway, so why not already have the room in her name?

Trainer cards are just words and pictures. You can make illusions of that, too. 

Anyway, any disgruntled front Silver wanted to put on for you has long since dissolved by the time you finally get out of the shower. He seems mostly back to his usual self when he heads into the bathroom and locks the door, so that's good. All you need to do now is curl up on the floor, resist the urge to shake your whole body until you're dry, and wait. 

The sound of a key fiddling in the lock of the door makes your head whip around, your muscles tensing for a fight before Kris' scent (the real Kris) hits your nose and calms you down. Sure enough, she pokes her head through the door and spots you immediately in your wet blanket fortress.

"Mercury!" she hisses, quickly slipping inside. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over town for you because you weren't picking up on your Pokégear! I was so worried, but when I come back to the Pokémon center to see if they've seen you they said I already have a room with them, and…" 

She trails off, glancing at the door. 

"Who's in the shower?"

"Silver," you answer. 

"How did you and Silver get a private room together?" she asks. 

"Illusions," you answer. "Why did I need to use an illusion, though? Silver didn't explain." 

"Of course he didn't," Kris grumbles. "The Pokémon League just doesn't want a random boy and girl that met each other on the road to be sleeping in the same room together. It's a safety thing." 

You nod. That kind of makes sense. You certainly pose a large potential danger to Silver. You can sort of feel that there's more to it than that, but Kris doesn't seem to want to talk about it in detail and you suppose it's not really that important. 

"Why did you get a private room with Silver, though?" Kris asks. 

You open your mouth to answer, but then remember Silver told you to not tell anyone that you just killed dozens of people and, until just recently, was covered head-to-toe in their blood. On one hand, Silver isn't the boss of you and Kris is your friend, and you shouldn't lie to friends. On the other hand, you could tell that Silver was asking you not to tell anyone for a lot of reasons he thought were very important. On the other other hand, you are extremely terrible at lying because attempting to do so makes you panic about impending punishment, even when the person you're lying to is clearly incapable of hurting you in a meaningful way. 

"Um, you should ask Silver," you ultimately decide to say. That way, you don't have to tell the truth or lie! It's brilliant. You guess you still have some human ingenuity in you after all!

"...Why?" Kris asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 

Oh. Shoot. There's another question now. You didn't plan for this. 

"...Because he told me not to tell you but it's probably okay if he tells you?" you manage. 

"Hmm. Well, okay," Kris agrees. "I'm still not sure how I feel about you bringing him into a private room, though. He didn't try to get you two to shower together, did he?"

"No," you answer. "I offered but he didn't want to."

She blinks at me a couple times, and then sighs. 

"Okay. Y'know what? Good. Great. That's… that's actually reassuring, somehow."

"I am glad," you smile. You never meant to upset Kris. 

"Why are you still sopping wet, anyway?" she asks, tossing her backpack onto the bed and sitting down. 

"I am not supposed to shake myself dry," you answer. "It ruins the carpet. And the furniture." 

"You are the weirdest friend I've ever had, Mercury," she sighs, flopping back onto the bed. 

You smile. You like it when she calls you a friend. 

"Hey, um. I feel like this might be a stupid question, but… do you think it's wrong to keep Pokémon in their balls? Should I have Tutu and Riri out when I can? Riri's not really well behaved yet, but I just… y'know, if they're people, then…"

Hmm. That's an odd thing to worry about, but you suppose she's new to the whole 'Pokémon are people' concept. She doesn't really know how to handle it. You aren't really sure how to handle it either, but she's doing her best for you. You should do your best for her. 

"Pokéballs aren't unpleasant," you tell her. "They can be disorienting, but they feel safe. I liked them in some ways, but not others. I think if you only let the Pokémon out to battle, that is bad. But as long as you let them out to do good things too, it is not bad." 

"I don't know, it just… it feels weird now," Kris says. "I'd never be okay with someone trying to put a human in a Pokéball, if that were even possible. And if Pokémon are people…"

She trails off, and you frown, a bit confused. 

"...They'd still be Pokémon, and not humans?" you finish for her. "I am not sure I understand what you are confused about, Kris."

"I'm worried that I'm doing something wrong with Tutu and Riri!" she answers. "I dunno, I just… I recall them and let them out however is convenient for me. I-I should probably have them out right now, I'd just feel even weirder talking about this with them around. And Riri might tear up the room…" 

"I can make sure she does not do that, if you want," you offer. "And I can ask them how they feel about Pokéballs, if you like." 

"...Oh," Kris mutters. "Oh, yeah, duh. Of course. Um, sure. Let's do that. Sorry, Mercury."

"What for?" you ask. 

"...Nothing, nevermind." 

Hmm. She… still isn't used to thinking about Pokémon as being able to talk. She's having trouble believing that. Even though she's starting to believe they're people…? That's so weird. Well, regardless, she releases her team. Her Natu and Mareep appear in a flash of light, the former looking around only briefly before hopping up to sit on Kris' face and the latter appearing quite startled, little sparks of electricity arcing throughout her fur. 

"Control your Electric," you rumble at her. She flinches, shaking as she turns to face you. 

"Sorry! Sorry!" the Mareep squeaks. "I'm sorry, I just… where am I?"  

"This is a human place" you tell her, considering that explanation enough. "Your master has brought you here."  

"How? I don't understand!"  

You tilt your head in surprise. 

"Kris," you say. "Did you ever explain to Riri what Pokéballs are?" 

"What?" Kris blinks, sitting up a bit and barely reacting as Tutu rolls a little to stay on top of her. "Oh, no, I'm so stupid! …No, wait. How would I even do that, Mercury? I don't speak Pokémon!" 

"You don't… need to?" you answer, a frown on your face. "She understands you." 

"But… how?" Kris asks, frowning. "She's wild. And barely six months old, I think. How could she have learned language?" 

"I don't know how to explain it," you frown. "Just talk to her." 

"Are… are you speaking human?" the Mareep gasps. 

"Yes," your tail flicks. 

"Can I learn that?" 

You blink. You… don't know? Maybe? 

"So, um… Riri. You can understand me?" Kris asks. 

"Yeah!" she answers, hopping once and making a "Ri!" noise. 

"Um, okay, I guess I have to assume that's a yes," Kris hedges. "Oh, how about… nod your head up and down for yes, and side to side for no! Like this!" 

She demonstrates, and Riri watches with clear confusion. Because of course she does. 

"That's too complicated," you tell her. 

"What do you mean it's too complicated?" Kris says with a frown. "If she can't understand nodding her head, how is she going to understand Pokéballs?"  

Uh. Hnngh. How do say this? Complicated is not quite the right word. You have to explain this in a human way. 

"I mean… it is too specific?" you try. No, that's still not right. What's the word for that thing you always struggle with… "No. Um. Wait. It's too… abstract. It is too abstract." 

"What's abstract about nodding your head to say yes?" Kris frowns. "I've seen you do it."

Bleh. How to put this… it's so obviously confusing to you. You still don't really get it. You just know it happens to be true, because you remember it from your time as a human. Maybe that's a good place to start. Maybe you have to talk about why it's confusing. 

"Why does moving your head up and down mean yes?" you ask. 

"Because… um," Kris frowns, and Tutu hops around a little to redistribute his weight. He's clearly happy to be out of his ball, so you'll have to tell Kris that later. "Well, it just does, right? That's what we do to indicate yes."

"It isn't that it 'just does,'" you insist. "Because it doesn't. There's a reason why it means that. Humans always have a reason."

"Um…" Kris frowns. "I dunno, I guess it's just… arbitrary? Like, it means yes because we needed something to mean yes, to indicate that we're saying yes, so we all collectively agreed that nodding your head is yes and shaking it is no because it's just useful to have a universal, agreed-upon method of communicating that nonverbally." 

You point at her, tail flicking back and forth. 

"That!" you say happily. 

"...What?" she asks, needing more information.

"Ugh, that! That's the too abstract!" you tell her. "That did not make sense! Nod means yes because humans say nod means yes. Why do humans say that? Because humans say that!" 

"I… okay," Kris acknowledges. "I think I get it. But… you do understand why it's useful to have a nonverbal way to indicate yes or no, right Mercury? And it's not that difficult to understand. All you have to do is remember that nodding means yes. That's not hard." 

"Yes," you nod, just to prove it. "But it's strange. Pokémon do not need it. I can flick my tail to mean yes. I can look at you to mean yes. I can make any movement, any expression, to mean yes, and a Pokémon will understand that it is yes because it is yes. Yes is yes because yes is yes. Yes?"

"Uh. No," Kris frowns, and then we both flinch as Silver suddenly yanks the bathroom door open, a puff of steam wafting out into the main room as he walks out dressed in the same outfit he walked in with and still completely sopping wet. 

"Arceus, it is painful listening to you two," Silver groans. "You're awful at communicating, Mercury."

"No," you protest. "Humans are just bad at listening." 

"Yeah, we are," he grunts. "And you either learn to compensate, or you get correctly identified as bad at communicating. Kris, how does one of your stupidly-named Pokémon talk to the other?" 

"Did you shower with your clothes on?" she asks. 

"No, I washed them separately. Now answer the question." 

"I dunno," she admits. "I always figured they mostly just… didn't?"

"Well, if you're accepting that Mercury is right and Pokémon can talk, they can definitely talk to each other. But none of them make the same fuckin' noises as one another. They can't have a common verbal language, and yet they understand each other anyway. And that's exactly what Mercury means: humans, compared to Pokémon, are shit at listening. We can't understand people without a common language. Mercury is claiming that Pokémon are so empathetic they can communicate without a language at all."

"But that's… ridiculous," Kris frowns. "How would that even work?"

"I don't fucking know," Silver shrugs, toweling off his pants. "Type energy?" 

"I don't think that's how type energy works at all. That doesn't make any sense!" 

"Then call her bluff and don't bother talking to your stupid baby Mareep," Silver grunts. "Your call." 

Kris scowls and glances back at you. 

"...You're saying I can explain how Pokéballs work, and she'll understand that better than the concept of nodding?" she presses you. 

"No," you answer flatly. "You could never get me to understand how Pokéballs work, let alone her. But if you say 'I put you inside this ball and you sleep in there until I take you back out,' she will understand it and she will believe you because you are telling the truth. Those are things that have happened and can happen. They are easy to understand. They are real. They are not…"

"Arbitrary," Silver offers. 

"Arbitrary," you nod, trusting he's right about whatever that word means. 

"Well, uh… okay," Kris frowns. "Riri?"

Riri has, of course, been listening to the whole conversation so far, but she doesn't at all mind when Kris re-explains everything and tells her how Pokéballs work with a bit less confusing background talk. You chip in with translations every once in a while, but mostly you just sit around being very soggy and wishing you weren't. This conversation was exhausting. 

…But not as exhausting as the last time you talked to them about this kind of stuff. So. That's nice. 

"Oh yeah, Silver?" Kris asks, Riri now happily cuddled up in her lap. "Why'd you come take a shower in our room, anyway? And where have you and Mercury been?"

"Getting ice cream," Silver answers. Like a liar! There has been no ice cream today at all! "Mercury demanded more of it, and we kinda spilled it all over ourselves. And I don't really have money for a room, so she helped sneak me in to use hers." 

"You don't have money for a room?" Kris asks, somehow zeroing in on being incredulous about the one true thing Silver just said instead of any of the lies. Humans! Bah! "Why not just use the communal shower?"

"...Because she offered," he says, only taking a second to think of the lie. "Would you use the communal shower if you could get a private one for free?" 

"Okay, fair point," Kris acknowledges. "I can't believe you didn't invite me to ice cream!" 

"Mmm. Sorry. She just kind of demanded it again and I didn't really think about it," Silver deflects. "Besides, look at us now. You kinda dodged a bullet." 

"I guess I did," she frowns. "But Mercury! Please pick up the phone when I call you, alright? We just learned that Team Rocket is around! I was worried that something had happened to you." 

"I will do my best to remember to," you agree, feeling vaguely miserable about hiding things from her. But what can you do? Silver said to, and you don't have to listen to him, but… well, he's smarter than you. He can explain all those things you can't, and he doesn't even believe them all! 

He's smarter than you will ever be. All you have is power. Maybe someday he'll have that too, and you can just follow him and stop worrying about being smart. 

"Oh right, follow up question," Kris says. "Why did you wash your clothes in our shower instead of like… in a washing machine?" 

"Because it's my only outfit and I didn't wanna walk around naked in your room," he grunts. 

"Uh. What?" Kris asks. 

"This is my only outfit," Silver repeats.

"How!?" Kris yelps. 

"What the hell do you mean 'how?'" Silver scowls. "I'm homeless, you Weedle. I spend all my money on Pokémon supplies and food, and Mercury took most of my cash when we first met." 

"What!?"

"I beat him in battle!" you protest. "I was allowed to!"

"I'm not blaming you for anything, Mercury," Silver dismisses. "When the damn gym leader returns from whatever the fuck he's doing at the Ruins of Alph, I'll kick his ass and get enough spending money to make it to Goldenrod. Then I'll crush the gym leader there, and so on. It's no big deal." 

"Wait… the Ruins of Alph?" Kris asks hesitantly. "That's where the gym leader is?" 

"Yeah, I guess he left yesterday for some emergency or another," Silver shrugs. "Team Rocket must have stopped bothering to hide because they heard about it. It's the perfect time to finish harvesting the Slowpoke here and get the fuck out of town." 

"O-oh…" Kris says, immediately looking guilty. 

"It's not a bad thing," Silver shrugs. "The gym leader should be back tomorrow, and that means Mercury will be safe. Team Rocket will be long gone by then. Trust me." 

Wow. Kris doesn't suspect anything about you and Silver being involved with Team Rocket stuff. You know she would have found out somehow if you tried to lie, but Silver makes lies almost feel like truth. It's impressive, and a little scary. 

"I… gosh, Silver, I wish I had known," Kris says softly. "About you being… I mean… are your parents…?"

"That's none of your business," he says gruffly. 

"Right. Sorry. But, um… if there's anything we can do to help, just let us know, alright?" 

"...I'll keep that in mind," Silver says, still clearly lying. 

"Why not sleep here tonight?" you offer. "The bed here is way more comfy than the communal ones." 

"...Um," Kris manages. 

"Mercury, there's only one bed here," Silver says flatly. 

"I know?" you confirm. Do they think you don't know that? You can count to one. "But Kris said she's used to sharing beds and I don't like being under the covers." 

"...I'm used to sharing beds with other girls, Mercury," Kris mutters. "But… okay, yeah, I guess the offer's open."

"Look, I am the absolute last guy to try and pressure you into sharing a bed with me, Kris," Silver says, holding his hands up. "Seriously, don't feel put on by Mercury's ignorance. I'll go communal, I don't give a fuck." 

"Nah, it's okay," Kris sighs. "You're kind of a jerk but you don't really have vibes like that. You deserve a nice place to sleep. We'll just set up a pillow divider, the bed is way too big for one person anyway. Plus, Mercury will be here and if you try anything she'll probably bite you or something."

"...Or something," Silver agrees, staring at you while his mind flashes back to all the murder you just did a couple hours ago. "Well, whatever. If it doesn't make you uncomfortable, I appreciate the offer. It's impossible to get a good sleep when you're trapped in the same room as seven sweaty dudes, and I am… already gonna have enough problems passing out, I think. I'm tempted to just have my Gastly knock me out."

"Um, isn't that super dangerous?" Kris says hesitantly. 

"Eh," Silver shrugs. "It's hardly the most dangerous thing I've done to make sure I wake up tomorrow." 

"Arceus, Silver!" Kris groans. "Are you and Mercury gonna make me constantly panic about your well-being?" 

"I dunno," he shrugs. "Only if you care, I guess. Now where do they keep the extra pillows in here?" 

The humans fuss around with preparing for bed while you and the Pokémon hang out together on the floor, watching their strange rituals with mild interest and occasionally sniffing each other. It's nice, and once everyone is dry and the bed is prepared, you hop up and curl into a ball between the feet of your only two friends. 

Today has been a very good day. You're looking forward to tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Morning comes sooner than you expected. Normally, you wake up after three to four hours of sleep, full of adrenaline and shaking off nightmares. Sleeping more than that is next to impossible, but today? Today you're just so comfortable. You wake a lot more peacefully than usual. You'd normally be itching to get away from the bed immediately and do something to get out of your own mind, tonight you have no trouble staying curled up and cozy, basking in the proximity of your friends. It's a great feeling, and a great way to spend time you would normally be struggling to fill. 

Kris sleeps like a log, straight and motionless and stiff. Even with Tutu on her head and Riri on her stomach, her sleep is completely devoid of interruptions. You doubt anything quieter than a Hyper Voice could wake her up, which is good because Silver isn't quite so lucky. 

He wakes up multiple times throughout the night, inhaling a brief, terrified gasp of air before his body freezes in an instinctive suppression of any sound. Whatever he fears while asleep, it seems, can't compare to what he fears while awake. The first two times, he drifted back asleep before too long. The third time he was left heaving deep (if carefully quiet) breaths for close to ten minutes before he slinks out of bed, prompting you to raise your head. 

"...Go back to sleep," he mutters at you.

"No," you answer. You cannot actually do that.

"I just have to piss," he lies, and heads to the bathroom. Frowning, you carefully hop off the bed on all fours and follow him, curling up outside the bathroom and listening to him splash his face with cold water. He blinks incredulously at you when he returns, his face wet and his eyes only very slightly less haunted. 

"...Waiting for me on the floor in front of the bathroom door is the single most Pokémon thing I've ever seen you do," he mutters, stepping over you and heading back to the bed. 

"You aren't okay," you say quietly. 

He flinches and stops. 

"...Yeah? Are you the one who gets to decide that?" he challenges. 

"It's fine," you tell him. "I'm not okay either." 

He swallows nothing and returns to the bed without answering you. He wakes up a couple more times before the sun rises, but you leave him alone. 

Kris wakes just as peacefully as she slept, her arms curling slowly around Tutu, peeling him off of her head, and squishing him against her collarbone as she takes a leisurely twenty minutes to transition from partial to full consciousness under the pitiless gaze of the morning sun. Silver, meanwhile, is much less affected by the sun than he was by his nightmares, and doesn't even flinch. When Kris finally starts to sit up, though, he's awake almost instantly. You raise your head up at your friends as they greet the morning, twitching an ear at them and smiling from the foot of the bed.

"Good morning," you rumble happily. 

"Heh. Good morning, Mercury," Kris smiles at you, thinking you are adorable but being too embarrassed to say it out loud. You preen a little anyway. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept great," you confirm. "I'm glad you slept good too!"

"I, uh. Did I?" Kris blinks. 

"Yes! I watched." 

"Oh! Great…" Kris lies for some reason. 

"Sorry, was I not supposed to?" you ask. 

"I, um… it… it's fine," Kris sighs. "What about you, Silver, did you sleep alright?"

"Yyyyep, slept like a Snorlax," he also lies. 

"Actually, he woke up six times," you correct. 

"Hey Mercury!" Silver says cheerfully. "Shut the fuck up!" 

"Okay!" you agree. 

Kris yawns and shakes her head at both of you, sliding out of bed and grabbing her Pokéballs to recall her team before hesitating and manually removing Tutu from her head instead, putting him down onto the bed. He immediately flaps into the air and lands on her head again, and she chuckles. 

"No, Tutu, I'm gonna go shower now," she says. "You wait here, okay? Be good. You too, Riri." 

She heads into the bathroom with a change of clothes, leaving you (who bathed and changed yesterday) and Silver (who wore his only outfit to bed) alone to wait for her. You're kind of hungry and you want to go out and get breakfast, but you kind of want to wait for your friends. Hmm… oh, wait, you know! Aunt Tess' homemade poffins are still in your backpack! 

You fish them out, finding them completely crushed into a paste and vaguely soggy, but you see no reason not to eat them anyway, picking them out of the bag she put them in and chewing them piece by piece. Yum yum yum, tasty berries! By the time Kris gets out of the shower smelling of human-treated water and stinky shampoo, you have finally finished your Aunt's tasty gift. And only a few days late, too!

"Phew! So, what are we doing today?" Kris asks. 

"Uh… what's this 'we' thing?" Silver frowns. "I know what I'm doing today, but…" 

"You're the type to share a bed with a girl and run out on her the next day, huh?" Kris jokes, though you're not at all sure what the joke is supposed to actually be. Silver seems to get it, though he doesn't find it funny. 

"I am 'the type' to prefer sleeping in dumpsters to having to hear anyone say that to me ever again," he says flatly. "I appreciate you lending me half of the bed, Kris. Don't read into it."

"...Sheesh, sorry," Kris sighs, unwrapping her hair from the towel and shaking it out a little. "I'm not flirting with you, dude, it's just a joke. Didn't mean to strike a nerve."

"Don't call me 'dude.'" 

"Alright, alright, geez!" Kris scowls. "Look, I just… let me start again. Thank you, Silver. I was a little nervous about this whole thing but you were a perfect gentleman."

Silver responds with a sigh, seeming even more annoyed. 

"Can we drop this entire dialogue, please?" he asks. "I get it. It's weird for you to sleep in the same bed as a guy. Established. Acknowledged. Fortunately, I am not a sex criminal, so let's move on. Okay?"

Kris seems angry for a moment and you tense up, your tail flicking around in anticipation of a confrontation. But then she seems to think for a bit, calming herself as she gives Silver a considering stare. Slowly, a smile starts to form on her lips.  

"Okay," she agrees. "Backing fully off. If you already have plans for the day, then that's fine."

"Great, thanks for your permission," Silver says sarcastically. 

"But! There is one more thing you need to do for us," she says. 

"And what's that?"

"Well, Mercury and I will get in trouble if people think we let a guy into our room," she answers. "So before you leave we have to make you… not one."

That seems to catch him by surprise. 

"...Excuse me?" Silver manages. 

"Well, you said that Mercury snuck you in here under an illusion," Kris grins. "And Mercury bought this room in her name, and in mine. She disguised you as me, didn't she?" 

"I… yeah, so?" Silver says defensively. "It was her idea!"

"And it's a great idea!" Kris says cheerfully. "But, y'know, I'm also going to be leaving the room, so you can't disguise as me this time. You have to be… some other girl. Right?" 

"Um," Silver says, his whole body tense with an instinct to run. 

"So, before you head out, I figure Mercury and I should help you design a cute disguise, right?" Kris continues, emboldened by Silver's prey behavior. "Y'know. Just so no one gets in trouble." 

Silver opens and closes his mouth a few times, not seeming to know how to respond, so Kris just walks forward, grabs one of his hands, and drags him towards the bathroom. You follow, licking the last of the poffins off your fingers. You suppose your illusory prowess will be necessary. 

"You ready, Mercury?" Kris asks. 

"Mmm," you nod. You think you understand the general plan. Make Silver look like a girl that isn't Kris. That should be doable. "It would be helpful if the illusion is similar to how Silver looks normally. It is difficult remembering what an illusion is supposed to look like unless I know it particularly well." 

You had a bunch of trouble with that when you were practicing the illusion to hide yourself. You didn't really remember what you were supposed to look like, so your illusion would get blurry or shift as you misremembered things. It took you weeks of staring at the old pictures of yourself to get consistent at it. If you can just make the illusion look like how Silver normally does with just a few changes here and there, that would be easiest. 

"I think that's a great idea, Mercury!" Kris says, clapping once to show her enthusiasm. "How about you start with your idea, and we'll adjust things from there, alright?" 

"I, um… is this really…" Silver starts, but he stops talking the moment you try out your first illusion idea and stays pretty much entirely silent from there on out. 

Kris spends a good while working with you to tweak the illusion in front of the mirror, insisting on all sorts of really tiny changes to make Silver look 'cuter.' It's all the same to you, really. Your illusions are manifestations of Ghost energy that usually coat your body like a second outfit, naturally following your movements. Putting an illusion on another person is more or less the same, you just have to be very careful when constructing that illusion to not fill it with too much negative energy, as that would damage Silver's frail human constitution when placed so close to his skin. You normally construct your personal illusion out of anxiety and your perpetual overwhelming feeling of not belonging, but that could hurt Silver really badly so you need to focus on other emotions. 

It's difficult; Ghost energy is inherently focused more easily in darker, more negative shades… or at least it always has been for you. But you managed it yesterday by focusing on fear, on the stress of knowing Team Rocket was so close, and on the newfound terror that they might hurt Silver as well as you. You yourself are afraid your illusion will hurt Silver, and paradoxically that makes an illusion of fear easier to create and easier to prevent from harming him. Plus, and this may actually be the most important aspect, a mask made of fear binds to Silver very, very well.  

The entire process of changing his appearance like this terrifies him in ways not even your emotional intuition can easily pick apart. But you don't ask him if he'd rather you stop. Somehow, that feels like the biggest mistake you could make. 

"There," Kris smiles. "Look at that beautiful face!" 

You do, admiring the work you've put into the illusion. You're not really sure if you'd call it any more or less beautiful than any other face—human faces are all pretty similar to you, aesthetics-wise—but you think you did a very good job with it. You'd definitely have struggled to get the face looking right without Kris' help; your original way of going about it was to just round out a few spots and call it a day. But Kris seems to really understand the aesthetic details that make humans look the way they do, and she did a surprisingly good job of making the changes easy enough for you to actually remember. 

With just a few reshaped bits of the face and body, Silver looks like a completely different person. You don't even need to do anything to the hair, since Silver's hair is already 'so pretty' according to Kris. Hair is usually the hardest part! This is all surprisingly fun. You've never really used your illusions to just play around like this before. They've always been about hiding, misdirecting, or fighting. 

"You should try putting her in a few different outfits, Mercury!" Kris suggests. 

"I-I thought we were done," Silver says. 

"Hmm. I will try," you agree, replacing the copy of Silver's baggy jeans and jacket with a copy of your T-shirt and shorts. It's a bit challenging, since you have to alter the entire body of the illusion, not just the clothes, to simulate all the skin that wouldn't be covered up if the illusion were real. The illusion's face doesn't change at all since you haven't anchored it to Silver's expressions all that well yet, but underneath the mask he seems to be struggling to decide between staring at the mirror and staring anywhere but. 

"This is a bit challenging to maintain," you admit. "It might destabilize the illusion in public." 

"Let'snotdoitthen," Silver says quickly. "I think it's enough. Just. My clothes are fine. We just have to get out of the Pokémon center."

You can't help but notice that Silver seems a lot more uncomfortable with this than when you just made him look like Kris. Is it… the mirror, somehow? Hmm…

"Right, okay," Kris agrees with a smirk. "We just have to get out of the Pokémon center. Well, let's get going, then." 

Kris, at least, is enjoying herself immensely. You have absolutely no idea why, but she's almost as happy about this as she was about going to the Ruins of Alph. You suppose she just has a thing for history, and also a thing for making boys look like girls? Which you're good at doing! So. That's nice. That should be good for your friendship, you think. And maybe Silver will start feeling more of the nice things he's feeling right now and less of the not nice ones, if you all keep doing this! 

You stick close to him as the three of you exit the room together, not wanting to make the illusion any more challenging than it already is by adding distance. You're slacking on the really difficult parts of his illusion and yours, keeping the faces blank unless one of you starts talking. Humans always figure out your illusion if you don't move the face when you talk, it's basically the only thing they actually pay attention to. 

Silver remains dramatically more nervous on the way out than he ever was on the way in, where he mostly just ignored everything you were doing to him and worried mainly about being covered in blood and being an accessory to mass murder. But Silver handled those feelings the way he handles most feelings: by shoving them away and replacing them with grumpiness wherever possible. 

You have a much better understanding of him now that you've hung out with him for more than a few hours. He seems to be under the general opinion that he will simply stop feeling things about situations if he renders the situations irrelevant by solving, surpassing, or otherwise overcoming them. This is obviously not how feelings work and he is being dumb. But somehow, this is some of the strongest undirected panic and confusion you've seen from him. He was more in his element helping you kill a man who helped raise him than he is right now. You don't know why. You don't think he knows why. …And maybe that's the reason. How can he solve a situation he doesn't even understand? 

Curious, curious. You hum and tilt your head back and forth, doing your best to get your fuzzy, stupid brain working on solving this puzzle. You care about Silver. When you first met him, you saw something you hated in him and you did your best to break him. To punish him. To hurt him. You don't even know why. His obvious connection to Team Rocket was part of it, but something about his first impression just reminded you of the sort of Pokémon that would taunt you before a fight starts, berate you and scream at you from its cage, only to be brutally eviscerated by you when the fight actually began. A stupid weakling who doesn't know their place in the hierarchy. A foolish human that overestimates their Worthiness. Such things deserve punishment. They just do.  

…But then, Silver saved you at Sprout Tower. You hurt him, you showed him the depths of his foolishness, and he actually learned. He left just enough of that arrogance by the wayside to become bearable. He accepted his place below you. He acknowledged your strength. And he didn't even act all that put out about the whole affair, which the few remaining human parts of your mind acknowledge is at least a little… unhinged. 

You wonder if he's been tortured before. It really didn't seem like his first time. Or his worst time. Just something else the two of you have in common, you suppose. 

You don't normally put a lot of effort into figuring out how people are feeling, because you don't normally have to. You just know. You can't avoid knowing. But Silver's current emotional state is very complicated, and regardless of how weird and indescribable of a friendship the two of you have, you committed a whole lot of murder with him so you're pretty sure he is a friend now. And you want to try to help. So… you're going to hang out with him today. You're going to keep thinking about this. And you're going to keep the illusion up the whole time, unless Silver makes a big fuss about it. 

You glance at Kris and she gives you a big grin. Yeah, you can already tell that's what she wants to do, too, albeit for different reasons. 

"So, you wanna take me to the ice cream place you two found yesterday?" Kris asks. "My treat, this time." 

"What?" Silver asks,  "No. It's not even hot out. Who wants ice cream two days in a row?"

"Me," you answer, because you want ice cream all of the days in a row. …And you didn't actually get any yesterday. 

"Come on, Silver! I feel left out of whatever you two did yesterday! I guess if you don't want ice cream I won't buy any for you, but I still wanna eat some myself!"

Silver sighs, mildly irritated at being caught in this lie again but not terribly perturbed.

"We didn't even go to an 'ice cream place,'" Silver sighs. "We couldn't find one in this hodunk backwater. We just bought ice cream from the grocer." 

"To the grocery store, then!" Kris declares, and Silver sighs again, looking around at everything other than himself. 

"...We're probably far enough away from the Pokémon center," he mutters. "You can take this illusion off of me, Mercury." 

"I can," you agree. 

He stares at you. You stare back. 

"Are you going to?" he asks. 

"No," you tell him. 

"Ha! Yes!" Kris cheers. "Ice cream date with the girls!"

"Um," Silver says, having no idea how to feel about or otherwise react to that. You grab his hand and pat it. He doesn't know how to react to that, either. 

The three of you walk through town, eventually buying a tub of honestly quite disappointing ice cream (full of weird human chemicals instead of tasty berries) and devouring it between the three of you as you walk around town. Police presence has noticeably multiplied since yesterday, especially as you get closer to the well. You want to go see, but Silver subtly directs you away from it for most of the day. Kris forces the two of you to go shopping, buying new clothes for Silver that will 'look good on anyone, no matter who they are' which Silver accepts with the grumbly non-protests of someone who hates the idea of being bought things but only owns one set of clothes. Eventually, though, your curiosity peaks when you smell an impressively Worthy human talking with the police and can no longer resist the urge to investigate. You drag Silver closer, Kris following curiously along behind you. 

The Worthy human is unexpectedly young, not looking much older than you or Kris, with chin-length purple hair and green clothes. They smell like a boy, but don't particularly look like one, and your nose has been wrong about humans before so you aren't quite sure. Interestingly, they hold a bug net in one hand. It has been your experience thus far that anyone holding a bug net is extremely weak, but this human is so strong! You suppose you should know better than to judge based on what humans are holding. You don't even know why it's called a bug net, let alone how it could make someone weak. 

You lean over and give them a polite sniff while they finish their conversation with the police officer. Yep. Worthy. Not as much as Blue, but more than enough to make you feel nice around them. Also delightfully attuned to Bug, though probably not in a way that matters because you're pretty sure bad things happen to humans that try to channel Bug energy. They're probably just around it a lot. 

"Mercury!" Kris hisses at you, embarrassed on your behalf for some reason. 

"Ah, hello, miss!" the Worthy human greets you, a smile on their face but impatience in their heart. "Can I help you with something?" 

"Oh. No. Sorry," you answer, stepping back a little. You forgot humans have personal space! "I didn't mean to bother you." 

"Sorry, Leader Bugsy, sir!" Kris also apologizes, again for reasons you don't understand. The Worthy one gives you all a considering look, moving from annoyed to slightly suspicious.

"I don't know any of you," they say. "Did you arrive in town recently?" 

"Uh, yes sir!" Kris confirms. "We arrived yesterday. We're taking the badge challenge! We were going to sign up at your gym later today, if it's open!" 

"No 'sir,' please," the Worthy human says. "Just Bugsy is fine." 

"O-oh! Oh, right, I'm so sorry," Kris blubbers again. 

"Why are you being sorry so much?" you ask. 

" Because, Mercury, this is Bugsy," Kris says. "They're the gym leader here, and you really shouldn't be walking up to them and smelling them." 

"That's why I'm sorry," you point out. "Why are you sorry?" 

"Wait, if you knew then why did you do it?"

"Because I forgot! They smell really nice. I bet they train Bug types."

"I… yes, Mercury, they do," Kris confirms with a sigh. You smile.

"I knew it!"

Bugsy chuckles, seeming a lot less stressed after watching the two of you talk. …But you don't understand why. Gosh, humans are weird. It's not even that they aren't still stressed and suspicious, it's just… less.

"So, the three of you are all looking to sign up for a battle, then?" Bugsy asks. The police officer sends them an 'are you really talking with these kids about a battle instead of talking to me?' sort of look, but Bugsy responds with a quick 'do not look at me like that, your irritation is unfounded and I am working towards our objectives' glance. Huh. What objectives? Also: wow, that's really impressive nonverbal communication for humans. They normally can't do that. 

"Yep, we're all—"

"No," Silver interrupts. "I'm not doing the badge challenge." 

"What?" Kris blinks. "But last night you said—"

"Kris," Silver snaps, and you do your best to make the illusion match the irritation on his face. "How am 'I' supposed to take the badge challenge?" 

Kris opens her mouth, and then closes it, picking up on Silver's implied 'I look like a girl right now and I can't do that when I take the challenge because I won't be near Mercury.' Wow! The humans are on a roll today. 

"Oh," Kris says. "Uh. Right. Right! Sorry, I got you mixed up with your, uh, twin brother!"

"...What," Silver says flatly. 

"Haha! Yeah, yeah, my bad Sil…vee? Sylvie." 

"Oh, Arceus," Silver groans. "Look, Leader Bugsy, I am really sorry these idiots have wasted so much of your time, we'll get out of your hair now and handle our gym battle scheduling at your gym, like we are supposed to." 

"Oh no, it's quite alright!" Bugsy says cheerfully, understanding that Silver really wants to leave this conversation and directly ignoring it. "Our town doesn't get many visitors since it's so out of the way. Consequently, I do most of the battle scheduling myself. I pretty much know every single person in town, so… it's very notable when newcomers start poking around. It's a shame I was stuck up at the ruins for the past couple days, or I'm sure I would have seen you around town."

Silver flinches, but you don't have the illusion show it. Kris' discomfort is obvious, though. 

"I… I'm so sorry, Bugsy," Kris says with a grimace. "Were you sent up because some people ended up trapped in a collapse during a tour…?"

Bugsy's eyebrows raise.

"Hmm, that's not public knowledge. Was that you, then? Don't worry about it! That's obviously not your fault, right?"

"I mean… I guess there's no way I could have known, but I still feel awful about it," Kris mutters. "We were warned that psychics could have a bad reaction to the ruins, and Mercury is like… a crazy powerful psychic." 

"Is she, now?" Bugsy hums, immediately interested. 

"Kris!" Silver snaps. "Don't just tell people that Mercury's a psychic!" 

"Should I not?" she asks, blinking. "Shoot. I'm sorry, Mercury, I didn't realize that was a secret? You're not really super secretive about it."

"That is correct, I am not," you agree with a nod. 

"You should be," Silver snaps. "That's the kind of thing people watch out for, Mercury. Bad people." 

"Bugsy's not a bad person," you shrug. A suspicious person, maybe, but the Worthy often have quite a bit of responsibility. 

"We don't have many powerful psychics on this side of the mountains," Bugsy says with a frown. "Are you from Kanto, by any chance?"

You are from a secret underground testing facility. 

"Maybe?" you answer. 

"What do you mean by 'maybe?'" 

You frown. Maybe means maybe. You don't know where you came from, before. It might have been Kanto. 

"Uh… you were living in New Bark Town, right Mercury?" Kris prompts. "Or… you came from there, yeah?"

"I was living with my aunt there," you nod. "But I don't remember where I lived with my parents. I don't remember who they are." 

"Ah, I see," Bugsy says, their fake smile breaking just a bit. "Well, you're certainly welcome here in Johto, Mercury." 

"Okay, that's it," Silver snaps, grabbing your arm. You let him, but only because it's him. "We're leaving, Mercury."

"How's four, four thirty, and five for those battles?" Bugsy calls out with a smile. "Today, of course." 

"O-oh!" Kris beams. "That would be great! Thank you, Bugsy!" 

"I'll see you then," they call out, waving you off. Silver doesn't turn back to look at them, not slowing down until they're well out of sight. 

"What's wrong, Silver?" you ask him. 

"You mean besides the pigs that you walked us right into?" he snaps. You blink, not understanding what that means, and he sighs. "Come on, Mercury. That whole 'welcome to Johto' schtick? Bugsy's so far up the government's ass their eyes are brown."

"Bugsy's eyes are purple," you point out. "The same shade as their hair." 

"I… forget about that. Mercury, I'm saying they're buttering you up because they want you to stay here and start a clan." 

"...Butter?" you ask, even more confused. "And what is 'start a clan?'" 

"It's a major boon to a country to have powerful psychics," Silver explains. "Bugsy wants you to live in Johto so that you'll get hitched and have lots of psychic babies." 

"Or," Kris butts in, finally catching up with the two of you, "they were just being nice." 

"Oh yeah?" Silver challenges. "Just being nice, huh? Then why didn't they ask where the two of us are from? Why didn't they welcome us to stay in Johto? Use your fucking head, Kris." 

"I don't think it matters," you shrug. "I'm pretty sure I can't have children anyway." 

The two of them stare at you. 

"Arceus, Mercury, this stuff never stops with you," Kris sighs, feeling very sad about the thing you just said. 

"Well that's what happens when insane monsters trap you in a laboratory for eight years," Silver mutters. "Your life gets sad. Now come on, you locked us into our goddamn gym battles today for some reason, so I need to go prep my team." 

"Ooh, that's a good point!" Kris says, perking up. "We gotta be in top form if we want to beat Bugsy! You ready for some last-minute strategy, Tutu?" 

The Natu chirps in agreement from his eternal position on Kris' head.

"Awesome!" Kris grins. "I guess you all have a point about us not having a lot of time until this afternoon, though. Also, we got three time slots but I'm not sure who is going in which? I guess we get to pick, probably. What do you think, Mercury? You wanna go first? Last? In the middle?"

Huh? You're not sure you get it. What's the difference?

"I don't understand why anyone would have an opinion about this," you admit. 

"Um… well, y'know, you get an extra hour to prepare if you go last, but some people might be raring to go first!" Kris explains.

"I don't care," you shrug. "I do not need more time to prepare. My team will win or they will lose." 

You don't really need much of a strategy. You don't really need a plan. Your team is not particularly weak to or adept against the Bug type, so all they need is power, endurance, and fear of death. They have those things. You have made sure of it. 

"Is your team even that strong?" Silver asks. "I barely see you do anything with them. They just fight on their own." 

"...How do you think most Pokémon get strong?" you ask, tilting your head. 

"Eh, if Mercury's training style works for her then it works for her," Kris shrugs. "As long as she's not hurting any… people, then it's not our place to step in, right?"

"Whatever," Silver sighs. "Well, I'd like to take the last slot. I have shit I need to do with my team. Alone." 

"Hmm… I'll take the middle slot, then!" Kris smiles. "Nothing too early or too late." 

"Then I will defeat Bugsy first," you confirm. It's all the same to you. 

"Confident as always, huh?" Kris grins, but Silver just starts to walk away. "Oh, uh, you wanna train together, Silver?"

"Emphatically no," he grunts. "I've had more than my fill of you two, today. Goodbye."

"Bye," you nod to him, letting your illusion of him drop. He looks at his hand, clenches it in a fist, and walks off. 

You walk off as well, deciding to wander towards the gym. You don't actually know when four o'clock is, so you don't want to miss it. 

"Oh, uh, you leaving as well, Mercury?" Kris asks, looking a little disappointed. "I thought we could maybe train together." 

Hmm… you've had a great day today, hanging out with Kris and Silver, but you're mentally exhausted from all the human interaction and the extra-difficult double-illusion you've been running all day. So you shrug, your tail swishing underneath your illusion. 

"I think I am going to rest," you answer. "But we can train later, after the gym battle." 

"Hmm. Alright," Kris nods. "Well, good luck, Mercury! I'll see you when you're done!" 

"Yes," you agree, doing your best to have your illusion match your smile. "I will see you when I am done." 

You turn away and walk to the gym, taking your time watching the many humans going about their daily lives. Most of them seem to be in relatively high spirits, reassured by the dramatically increased police presence visible around the city. The police themselves, however, are nervous. Exceptionally so. You wonder why. You'd think they'd be extra relaxed, since you took care of that Team Rocket problem for them! 

Still, they don't bother you. Unlike Bugsy, they all feel moderately Worthy at best, nowhere near enough for your high standards, and most of them have that general feeling of low-level confusion about place that makes you suspect they've either got short term memory problems or they're from out of town. Either way, they don't find you any more interesting than any human walking around, and the feeling is mutual so you leave them alone. 

Eventually, you make it to the gym and immediately walk inside to lock yourself in the bathroom and let your illusion deactivate for a while. Ah, that feels nice. That feels really nice. The double illusion was really starting to strain you a little. You yawn and stretch and fluff out your fur, spending a solid ten minutes resting before you finally put your illusion back on and emerge into the lobby. A nearby clock informs you that it is one thirty-four. Hmm. That's… at least enough time for a chat with your team, probably? You're awful at remembering how time is measured. It wasn't really a relevant skill for most of your life, and also your brain stopped doing numbers right. 

You release Winter, Wet, and Fall into the lobby, which nobody cares about because no one else is here. They look around curiously.

"Where are we?" Winter asks. 

"Soon, we are going to fight our next gym battle," you tell her.

"Woah, really?" Winter asks. "Already!?"

"Apologies, but I am unfamiliar with this 'place of battle testing' that you speak of!" Wet announces. 

"It is a place of battle testing," you answer.

"Glorious!" 

"How will we attack?" Fall asks. 

"You will go first," you tell him, picking him up and putting him into your lap. "Slow down the enemy's pace. This will be a battle in uneven territory, where our opponent has stacked things to their advantage. You will be best suited to preparing our team to overcome that advantage. I will swap you out as needed."

Bugsy smells of Bug. His arena will be likely to benefit bugs. Fall is a bug. Your plan is foolproof. 

"Who's going to be second?" Winter asks.

Oh. You haven't thought that far ahead. 

"...Whoever I deem best for the task," you answer. "You all have been trained for this. You are strong because I demand strength. You will not fail."

"We won't!" Winter agrees, desperate for your approval. "We won't let you down!" 

You nod in agreement. They won't.

The door opens behind you and Bugsy walks in, doing a slight double take as they spot you and your team. But, plastering a fake smile on their face, they approach. 

"Hey there!" they greet you. "Mercury, right? Can I help you with anything?"

"That is my name," you agree. "I am waiting for my battle."

Bugsy glances at the clock.

"The one that's… two and a half hours from now?" they ask.

"Yes," you confirm.

The fake smile remains in place.

"Huh! Alright, then," they say. "Well since I've got you here, Mercury, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

You shrug, not seeing why not.

"Is this your whole team?" Bugsy asks. 

"Yes," you answer. "This is Winter, Wet, and Fall."

They seem a little confused by Wet's name, but they quickly rally. 

"Oh, like… like the season. Huh! That's a fun naming scheme you have, there."

You beam. Yay! You did good with the names! 

"So, you'll be using three Pokémon," Bugsy says, pulling out a Pokégear and tapping away at it. "I guess we may as well get this all set up now. How many badges do you have?" 

"One," you answer, following Bugsy as they wander behind the lobby counter and turn on the computer. 

"Just one?" Bugsy asks. 

"...Yes," you frown, not sure why the confirmation was needed. They clearly heard you. 

"Can I see your trainer card?" they ask, and you nod before handing it over. Once the computer turns on, they poke away at it a bit, seeming interested in what they find. 

"Ooh, congratulations! Looks like Falkner flagged you as a potential up-and-comer. I guess we'll have to actually get the recording crew in here. There's a good chance your obstacle course run and your battle with me will be televised. Do you consent to that?"

"No," you say.

"You won't be able to battle me without consenting to that," Bugsy says.

"...Then yes," you frown.

"Great!" they smile. "So, while I'm getting this set up, tell me: how are you liking Azalea Town?" 

"It smells nice here," you say. "But your ice cream is bad."

"Our… ice cream?" 

"In Violet City there is a nice place full of ice cream in lots of different flavors like chocolate which is bad for Pokémon but they had berry ice cream too with lots of different berries and I like the sweet berries and I had them in the ice cream and it was yummy. But here my friends and I went out for ice cream but we couldn't find an ice cream shop so we bought ice cream from a store but it was in a box that was an oval and it wasn't berry flavored and I didn't like it as much." 

Bugsy blinks at you a bit, then offers a much more genuine smile than their usual.

"I see," they say. "Well, if you're heading to Goldenrod next, I'm sure you can find a nice ice cream shop there."

You brighten up considerably.

"I am going to Goldenrod next!" you confirm happily. Yay! Ice cream! 

Bugsy chuckles, continuing to poke away at the computer for a bit before turning their attention back to you.

"So… you and your friends," they prompt. "The three of you got here yesterday, right? About what time did you arrive?" 

Why is Bugsy asking you about this? You suppose it doesn't matter. Questions must be answered. 

"I don't know," you say. 

"You don't know?" 

"Affirmative." 

They stare at you. You stare back.

"...The three of you used Union Cave to get here, right?" they ask.

"I don't know," you answer. 

"...How can you not know?"

"Kris and I used Union Cave," you answer. "No one else traveled with us, so I only know how two of us got here."

They don't like that answer, and you have no idea why. Neither of those things surprise you. 

"Okay. So. You and your friend Kris arrived via Union Cave. About when did you enter the cave? If you don't remember the time, do you know if it was morning, afternoon, evening…?"

"We entered Union Cave in the morning," you report. "Then we found a man who had been attacked by Zubat. Kris and I carried them back to the Pokémon center. Then, we entered Union cave again. The sun was near the top of the sky. Then, we passed through Union Cave, and walked to Azalea Town." 

"You carried a full grown man through a cave?' Bugsy asks, worried and suspicious about something.

"...Yes," you confirm. "Do you… think I'm lying?"

They don't feel like they think you're lying, but they keep understanding what you say and repeating the question back to you anyway. It's making you uncomfortable. 

"No," they answer. "But forgive me for saying so, you don't look very strong." 

What! Your fur bristles with indignance, though your illusion's face remains immobile. 

"...Well, I am," you tell them. Rude human. If they didn't smell so nice you'd be mad. 

"Is it because of telekinesis?" Bugsy asks. "Your friend mentioned you are a very powerful psychic." 

"No," you answer. "I can lift more with my muscles than I can with my mind." 

They nod, expecting that answer since basically all human psychics work that way. You, obviously, don't quite work that way; at close range, your telekinesis is absolutely stronger than most humans can lift with their bodies. Your body just happens to be even stronger, still. That's part of why you mix so many physical strikes in with your other attacks. 

"I see," Bugsy hums. "Mercury, do you understand why I'm asking you all of this?"

"Silver said it's because you want me to stay in Johto so I will 'get hitched' and have 'lots of psychic babies,'" you answer. Which again, you can't do, because having the vast majority of your human cells die and get completely replaced with non-human cells tends to completely ruin the reproductive system, among other things. You suppose being mostly Pokémon might mean you could make Pokémon eggs, but you have absolutely no idea how Pokémon are supposed to do that. The only thing you know about Pokémon sex organs is that they don't actually have any. None that you've found when eating them, anyway. 

…Not that you expect this information to ever be relevant to you, of course. Never once have you felt the desire for that sort of thing, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You can't imagine ever wanting kids, either. Why would you create a person just to hurt it? People do it all the time, obviously, but you don't understand why. 

To your surprise, you actually manage to complete an entire train of thought before Bugsy manages to answer you. They… pretty clearly weren't thinking about what Silver accused them of thinking about, and they're a bit caught off-guard to hear you say it. Huh. 

"...No, Mercury, that's not why," Bugsy says. "It's actually because I'm investigating a crime."

"Oh, okay," you say. "Good luck." 

They chuckle and shake their head. 

"Thank you. I'll see you in a couple hours, Mercury." 

"Okay. Bye." 

You wave at them as they get up and head deeper into the gym, leaving you alone in the lobby once again. Two hours, huh? You don't really know how long that is, but that's okay. You recall your Pokémon and wait. You're good at waiting. They have chairs here, but sitting on the floor feels more natural to you so you do that, curling your tail around your ankles to keep it close to your body as you maintain your illusion and just…

…Wait. 

And wait.

And… wait…

…

Chapter Text

Eventually, the doors open again, a woman with glasses walking out and giving you a surprised look. 

"...Are you, ah, Mercury? It's time for your badge challenge." 

You stand up. It is time for your badge challenge. 

"Um… follow me," the woman says, taking you through a set of double doors that close behind you. And then, when the doors open, a feeling you should have expected but completely forgot about nearly bowls you over. 

B̵̢͇͊Ṷ̴͝G̷̖͜͠

Small and quick and endlessly voracious. Growing, fighting, desperately struggling through a world where everything is larger, everything is more dangerous, everything wants to consume all that you are. And yet you feast, and yet you grow. The air skitters across your body like countless sets of legs. Your skin itches and strains, trying to harden into the exoskeleton your body is suddenly sure it should have. You stagger, taking a deep breath of it, loving it, hating it, needing it. Your body is wrong, oh so wrong, but you knew that. You don't have enough arms, you can't move your antennae, and the energy screams at you, oh it screams at you, that you should be part of the swarm. 

With a shudder, you turn to the woman who led you here. 

"...May I release a Pokémon?" you ask.  

"Well, your Pokémon aren't allowed to help you do the obstacle course," the woman answers. "But if you're taking the combat route, it should be fine."

Obstacle…? Oh. Right. Like the Flying place. You glance out into Bugsy's gym and actually look at the inside for the first time. The whole thing is styled like a scaled-up forest, a massive artificial tree with branches bridged by huge, artificial Spinarak webs the size of ropes. Just the sight of it makes you feel tiny, like you've been shrunk down and everything else has become enormous by comparison. It soothes you immediately, and you smile. That is how you're supposed to be. 

The obstacle course looks interesting. Large, fake Spinarak crawl along the webs with some kind of human mechanism on their bellies, their flat tops large enough for a couple people to stand on with ease. They patrol the webs with an impatience quite unlike the Pokémon they represent, crawling slowly from one side of the web to the other, between the giant 'branches' that represent safe, solid ground. Below the webs, you do not know what awaits you. But as the feeling of Worthiness emanates strongly from the far end of the room, it's obvious you're supposed to cross. 

"I am doing the obstacle course," you say. You could not possibly resist crawling across it, in this place. You need to. "My Pokémon will not assist me. He cannot even walk. I just think he will enjoy this place."

The woman seems surprised, but she smiles at you. 

"That should be fine," she says. "Just walk out into the main area and release him, then. But be careful not to let him help!" 

"I will," you promise, and you head into the gym proper. You spot the cameras pointed at you quite easily. There were lots of cameras in that place, though they were much smaller than the ones tracking you now. You release Fall onto the ground, who immediately takes a deep and invigorating breath. You smile, pick him up into your arms, and walk towards the webs. This will be fun. 

"Where are we?" Fall asks. 

"This is the gym," you tell him, lifting him up to your head. "You get to battle here."

"It is wonderful," he hums, shaking slightly. "I will be much stronger here." 

"Yes," you agree. "But so will everybody you face. Be wary." 

"Always," he answers, and you give him a squeeze. Good Fall. Very good. 

As you approach the obstacles, you watch as the fake Spinarak wander around the webs. They smell vaguely like people, and you suspect they're designed the way they are to try and trick humans into walking on them and trying to get the fake Spinarak to ferry them across the webs. This is obviously wrong, though. Bugs are rarely allies to one another. Even in swarms, survival of the fittest reigns supreme, and a real Spinarak wouldn't hesitate to try and devour another bug foolish enough to try to ride them. It is clearly a bait. A way to fail the test that they don't tell you about. Tests, after all, are usually like that.

So you don't make that mistake. Kicking off your shoes and putting them into your backpack, you step onto the webs, latching onto the thin ropes with your toes as you walk at a casual pace across them. Below you lies a dark pit of indeterminate depth, but the Bug energy humming in your body promises that you're far too small to be hurt by something like a fall. Gripping and walking with your toes like this just feels right , and you know it's only because of the energy seeping through your faulty barrier and slowly poisoning your body, but you just don't care. There seem to be all sorts of paths across the webs, most of which end at small alcoves with levers, but you don't see any reason to go to them and happily make it across both gaps with nothing but the most direct path. There, Bugsy waits for you at the far side of a battle arena, watching you with an impressed look on their face.

"Wow, that didn't even slow you down, huh?" they call to you. "You know you're supposed to do a whole lever puzzle, right?" 

You blink, not sure how that isn't a lie. 

"...But what would the levers even do?" you ask. 

"They change the pathing of the platforms," Bugsy answers. 

"...But they're already easy to avoid?" you point out. 

Bugsy laughs, believing what you said to be quite funny for some reason. 

"Alright, challenger Mercury," they grin at you, pointing your way with the bug catcher's net. "This is the battle for your second badge. The battle will be three on three. Please take your position in the trainer box!" 

You obey, giving Fall a squeeze as you stop balancing him on your head and carry him in your arms. Just like your fight with Falkner, the field is purposefully imbalanced in Bugsy's favor. Though while Falkner used his gym's concentration of Flying energy to manipulate the wind to speed up his Pokémon, Bugsy is using the Bug energy to do the opposite, leaving the entire field slathered with a tangle of sticky and non-sticky webs that will latch onto your Pokémon and restrain their ability to move the moment they hit the field. 

You immediately feel like your choice of starting Pokémon is vindicated. Fall, after all, can't move anyway. 

"Ready?" Bugsy calls to you. "Three, two, one…!"

"It is time, Fall," you announce as you lob him into the arena underhand. 

"Go, Spinarak!" 

An actual version of the fakes that stalked the webs on the way here emerges in a flash of light and almost immediately disappears into the thick collection of webs. Fall lands rightside up because you are very skilled and gets completely stuck in place. But again, that's fine. All you need to do is find that Spinarak and have Fall shoot her until she's knocked out. 

…But where is the Spinarak? 

"Using a bug to fight the master of bugs, huh?" Bugsy asks. "You're certainly confident."

"Yes," you confirm. But not so confident that you'll let Fall fight without orders. "Fall! Wait for your opponent to strike, and strike back in that direction. Focus and prepare."

Ultimately, the Spinarak will have to reveal her position to attack. Fall will therefore have an opportunity to attack back, be that firing a Pin Missile in the direction a projectile came from or directly countering any point-blank assassination strike. You are confident, after all, in Fall's defenses. He is and shall be the wall that defends the rest of your team. 

"Not a bad tactic in theory," Bugsy smirks, "but unfortunately, we've prepared for it. Spinarak, use Night Shade!" 

Oho. You feel the Ghost energy flow through the world, underneath the ground, and burst up from directly underneath Fall's position. It's truly the perfect attack to counter him; he can't intercept it, and his armor can't stop it from latching directly onto his barrier and devouring his power whole. The technique humans refer to as Night Shade is far from the strongest expression of Ghost energy, but it is one of the most insidious, bypassing traditional defenses and being fully capable of phasing through any matter not properly reinforced with type energy. 

You smile. You have been outplayed, and yet your punishment is not pain. The battle simply continues, as Fall bears your mistakes for you. No wonder humans enjoy this so much. 

"Pokémon are capable of a lot of incredible techniques, aren't they?" Bugsy says, a grin on their face. "You can't rely on your opponents always having the same predictable tricks!" 

You know that, obviously. But it's not like the Spinarak isn't using predictable tricks. At the end of the day, your plan still worked. 

"Left," you bark, and Fall fires. Briefly, the Spinarak is visible as she leaps out of the way, the Pin Missile only grazing her. Bugsy raises their eyebrows in surprise. You're not really sure why. It used a Ghost type move. Of course you could feel where it came from. And though the human words for directions are not particularly descriptive, neither you nor Pokémon need words to understand anyway. Fall intuitively understood the exact position you were indicating, with just one word. That's just how Pokémon are. 

"Moving behind you," you continue to instruct. Now that the Spinarak is a bit shaken, it's a lot easier to follow where she is from the subtle movements of the webs. 

"Huh," Bugsy smiles. "I guess I'm the one who shouldn't be relying on old tricks. Poison sting!"

You don't need to tell Fall to block it; the Pin Missiles fire out on instinct. 

"Alright, keep your distance! Night Shade again!"

"Protect!" you order.

"Keep up the pressure with more Night Shades!"

Hmm. Fall will probably lose this battle. Given the Spinarak's ability to bypass his armor and her high resistance to Fall's ranged attacks, Bugsy is liable to win the war of attrition that they seem content with fighting. Wet wouldn't fare well in this environment either, and while Winter might be able to freeze the sticky parts of the webs, nothing prevents Spinarak from simply making more of them. She'd probably win, but it wouldn't be easy. 

You could, of course, order Fall to self-destruct, which would all but guarantee him and the Spinarak get knocked out, as well as clear out a lot of the webs. But Selfdestruct is a trump card you can only use once, and there's no telling if one of Bugsy's two other Pokémon will end up giving you more trouble… Hmm. Well, you'll swap to Winter, then. It'll be a shame to not have her at her full strength later in the fight, but it's somewhat inevitable. 

"Fall, you're being switched," you inform him, and he stops attacking for a moment, taking an uncontested hit from Spinarak while you release Winter onto the field and recall Fall into his ball. You judge that he's at about half strength now, while the Spinarak is closer to three-quarters. Still, this is a much better matchup for Winter for quite a few reasons. 

"Icy Wind!" you order, and Winter lets out a wide-area burst of Ice from her lungs, coating the webs in thick sleet and chilling the Spinarak hiding inside them. Her leg gets caught all the same when she lands, though, and she nearly trips trying to escape. 

"Poison Sting!" Bugsy orders, like you suspected he would. Winter's wide-area attacks are both incredibly difficult to dodge and, after some impressive training on her part, tend to stick to anything they hit and slow them down, chilling them to their bones. In essence, the hit-and-run tactics this Spinarak clearly prefers aren't going to be sustainable against Winter, and Bugsy is skilled enough to know it, so they want to swap gears to simply inflicting as much damage as possible. 

Which is fine by you. 

"Overpower her, Winter," you order. 

"Heck yes!" Winter answers. Hmm. She shouldn't be talking while fighting. You'll reprimand her later. 

Still, you don't need to give many orders from there. Winter does her best to manage the unfavorable terrain, but ultimately she can't dodge the Spinarak's attacks much better than the Spinarak can dodge hers. The attacks infect her barrier with Poison energy, sapping insidiously at Winter's strength, but ultimately your first partner has the stamina and the power to win the slugfest. Spinarak goes down. 

"You're pretty good at reading the state of a battle, aren't you?" Bugsy hums as they recall their Pokémon. "You're so calm. Nothing seems to surprise you." 

"That isn't true," you answer. Bugsy is stalling, letting the poison scour away more of Winter's barrier before they send out their next Pokémon. But there's nothing you can really do about it. 

"Ha! I guess you just have a good poker face, then," Bugsy laughs. "Still, I get the feeling you're a lot more experienced than the average one-badge trainer." 

"Yes," you nod. "But I still only have one badge." 

"Fair enough," Bugsy nods back. "Go, Ledyba!" 

A rotund red creature emerges in a flash of light, her wings buzzing as she wobbles in the air. Another frail Pokémon, though this one doesn't seem particularly fast or dangerous to counteract it. That's odd. 

"Icy Wind," you order. 

"Light Screen!" Bugsy declares. 

Ah. Right. One of these annoying ones. A shimmering barrier of power flickers into existence in front of the Ledyba, blocking most of the damage from the Icy Wind. But not all of it. 

"Hmm. Ice Shard," you order. There's more of a solid, physical punch behind that move, which should work well against the Light Screen. But of course, that's not the end of it. 

"Reflect!" Bugsy orders. One of these battles, hmm? The poison is ticking away at Winter's health and the bug is just waiting for it to finish her off. Winter is already almost knocked out, though she might be able to severely damage or knock out the Ledyba before going down, if she puts her all into it. Yet you don't like how hard the field is getting stacked in Bugsy's favor; the webs are still coating the entire ground, and now that Spinarak is gone, Winter might be able to do something about them… but if she destroys the webs, she's not going to be able to do much damage to Ledyba before passing out. 

Hmm. Still worth it. 

"Winter," you say calmly, "freeze the field." 

"Okay, boss!" Winter answers, taking a deep breath before expelling snow in as wide an area as possible. 

"Safeguard!" Bugsy orders, a shimmering energy descending to protect the field and prevent the webs from getting brittle. But that's fine; the energy-rich snow is still warring with the Bug energy in the webs, weakening them if not freezing them. 

"Rip them apart with Ice Shard," you order, having her finish off the webs once and for all. 

"Mach Punch!" Bugsy orders. Ooh, dangerous!

"Disable," you answer immediately, and though Winter cries out as she's struck by the attack she still manages to unleash a harsh glow from her eyes that saps the Ledyba's ability to do it again. "Powder Snow."

"Ow ow ow…" Winter complains miserably, and you tsk in displeasure, causing her to flinch. She should not be talking in combat! You don't need her to say 'ow' in order to see that she's on her last legs, the Spinarak's poison and Ledyba's fists having taken a deep toll. But… well, that's the neat thing about being a trainer. It's fine. It's not just okay if Winter faints, it's expected. Pokémon on both sides are supposed to be knocked out in battle. It's not a loss. There is no punishment. It's not like that place. 

Bugsy narrows their eyes at you suspiciously and with a bit of disapproval. Oh? What did… ah. A grin crawled its way up your face, and you instinctively copied it onto your illusion. 

"Unleash what you have left," you order Winter, and she obligingly vomits ice into the Ledyba as it tries to tackle her. Protected by the Light Screen, the Ledyba survives the attack and crashes into Winter, finally knocking her out. The poison eating away at her barrier like acid shatters alongside it, leaving her largely safe, if entirely vulnerable. You return her to her Pokéball without a word, considering who you should send out next. 

With one Pokémon on your team down, Ledyba is a prime target for Fall. After all, if Wet is sent out first and ends up fainting, then the threat of Fall's Selfdestruct is greatly reduced, as using it will result in a tie at best . If Fall can defeat Ledyba and then explode on the incoming Pokémon, that would be an obvious ideal outcome. 

But in many ways, that's the problem with the strategy: it's the obvious ideal outcome. If there's one situation Bugsy is already planning to prevent, it's Fall exploding on their third Pokémon while you still have one in the back. You suspect they already have a counter to it, ready and waiting..

It is, of course, still a solid plan even if it fails. Assuming Fall can beat the Ledyba, you have a substantial tactical advantage with the threat of Selfdestruct. Bugsy can prepare for this, and in fact already has with Ledyba's Reflect, but the fact that they had to do so at all is what makes the threat so effective. By forcing an enemy to respond to a threat you could do regardless of whether or not you do it, you limit their options and corner them into a position of submission. 

And so the field is set. Ledyba is not a major offensive threat, especially with her Mach Punch disabled. This isn't a problem against Fall, who is also largely unthreatening outside of Selfdestruct, and weakened as he is from Spinarak, he very well might have to use it against Ledyba to eke out a tie instead of a possible loss. Bugsy likely chose Ledyba as their second the moment you switched Fall out of the battle in order to set up this exact situation: you can use him now and likely set up a fight with your third against his third with posthumous defensive support from Ledyba (an advantageous position for them) or you can send out your third now and end up with two weakened Pokémon against what is doubtlessly the largest threat coming last, also an advantageous position for them. 

Or so Bugsy assumes. 

"Wet," you announce, lobbing the Pokéball lazily towards the field. "It is time."

You did not plan this in advance the way you suspect Bugsy did. You just followed your instincts to get the battle to this point, and your instincts now are telling you that you have won. You have an enemy in front of you that specializes in attrition and support. You have a commander assuming their own superior position. You have a trump card that commander knows nothing about, and has little capacity to predict. 

The time has come. It's wet season. 

"A Krabby, huh? Reinforce that Reflect!" Bugsy orders, making their last mistake. 

"Wet!" you shout. "Swords Dance!" 

"Our glory shall be swift and indomitable!!!" Wet declares with a roar, prompting a scowl from you as power collects in a surge within him. Bugsy's eyes bulge with surprise, which is fair. You've never seen a Krabby this weak use a technique this powerful before either.

"Tackle!" Bugsy orders, because there's little else their poor, pathetic Ledyba can do. It's not enough. 

"Harden," you order, letting Wet reduce the effectiveness of the attack.

"Tackle as hard as you can!" Bugsy says. "All-out!"

If Wet cannot handle such a thing, he is not worthy of your team.

"Swords Dance again," you state calmly.

"Hoooorrrrraaaaaarrrgh!!!" Wet roars, gathering even more power into his tiny frame. 

Clicking their tongue with irritation, Bugsy grabs two Pokéballs.

"I'm returning you, Ledyba! Scyther, strike them down with Fury Cutter!"

You grin. They also wish to ramp up their power? Compete with you? It is too late. You shall strip them of their final advantage. 

"Agility," you order. "Then, finish it." 

"Yes, oh wise and powerful master!"

"Quiet during battle!" you bark back. 

"Oh! Yes, apologies!"

"I said quiet!" 

"Right! Of course! I shall!"

Your next growl doesn't mean much other than a growl, because you're annoyed and also because it is at that point Wet starts getting sliced up by a bright green bug with swords for arms. Idiot. Do you really have to tell him how to dodge and attack with that much power backing him?

"Latch on with ViceGrip!" you order, and Wet manages to catch one of the Scyther's blade arms and clamp down tight. The Scyther immediately tries to shake him off, but you know from experience how futile that is. 

"Calm down, Scyther! Break it open with Rock Smash!" 

"Metal Claw," you retort. "Carve her down before she can best you." 

There is no need for you to give further orders. Bugsy's Scyther is intrinsically more powerful than Wet, but Wet has well surpassed that difference through careful internal energy manipulation. Though the power is short-lived, the rest of this battle will be even shorter.

Scyther faints first, Wet still vibrating with power. You don't let Bugsy stall for time, ordering Wet to perform a third, decisive Swords Dance as Bugsy considers it. Ledyba is released shortly after, and is promptly demolished. 

You have won your second gym badge. 

"I am a glorious god of war and death!" Wet declares proudly, tap dancing back and forth atop the Ledyba's unconscious body until Bugsy finally recalls her. You leave him on the field and release Fall, hoisting him up into your arms. 

"Good job," you tell him and Wet, leaving Winter asleep in her ball. "We have won."

"We have won!!!" Wet repeats excitedly, raising his claws in the air and clacking them repeatedly. "I feel so alive!!!" 

"I feel as though I have failed to accomplish much," Fall rumbles discontentedly. 

"Do not worry," you assure him, nuzzling the top of his armor. "The mere threat of you created our path to victory." 

"Boy did it," Bugsy agrees, having walked across the field to speak with you. "You got me good, Mercury. That was a well-coordinated battle." 

"I located an opportunity and acted upon it," you answer. 

"Indeed you did," they nod, reaching into their pocket. "And consequently, you have earned yourself the Hive Badge."

They pull out a small case and open it, revealing a stone that radiates an intoxicating Worthiness, adorned with a Ledyba's spots. In this moment, if Bugsy were to give any order, any at all, you would obey them without question. 

…But that is in large part due to their own inherent Worthiness, not just the far less rich variety emitting from the badge. And Bugsy wants you to take the badge, so of course, you do. Placing Fall on the ground, you accept it and set it into your trainer card. The feeling of Worthiness fades, mixing into the background of your own. 

You pause for a moment, that thought churning in your mind uncomfortably. You're a trainer, so of course you have some Worthiness, both from yourself and your first badge. Otherwise, why would your team follow you? But at the same time, you shouldn't have any. You're not human. That's… wrong. 

"Mercury?" 

"Mrrr!?" you jump slightly, blinking up at Bugsy. They smile. 

"I said that I'm also giving you the TM for Leech Life, in honor of your impressive victory," Bugsy repeats. "Here you are." 

Oooh. Power. You quickly put your trainer card away and accept the disc with both hands. 

"You are an interesting girl, Mercury," Bugsy says. "I've got one last question for you, if that's alright."

"Okay," you agree. 

"Last night," they ask, "did you visit the Slowpoke Well?"

Last night, they mean, did you commit mass murder?

The question and intent surprises you, but the thing about that is yes. Yes you did. Like Blue did when he rescued you, you slaughtered the Rockets that dared lodge here, in stolen land, with cruelty in their souls. You tore them apart for what they did to you. How could you not? A thousand of their deaths would not repay the suffering you endured, the broken thing they turned you into, and the memories they stole. You were human, once. You had a family that loved you and a life you understood. Now, you understand nothing. They took even your mind from you. Your personhood.

You suspect Silver won't be happy with you for this, but someone Worthy is asking if you killed them. What reason could you have to say no? 

"Yes," you answer. 

Bugsy blinks in shock.

"Yes?" they repeat.

"Why do you do that?" you say. "I know you heard me the first time."

Bugsy stares at you. 

"...Apologies," they say. "I find it prudent to double-check the facts in situations like this. What did you do in Slowpoke Well?"

"I fought Team Rocket," you answer. "And I won."

Bugsy's eyes go wide, and they stare at you for a while before finally speaking again. 

"...I'm going to need you to come with me, alright Mercury?" 

"Okay," you answer easily. Bugsy leads you back behind their side of the field, where there's another door exiting the gym. You follow them, heading through two sets of doors and finally making it outside, where the overwhelming pressure of Bug is finally lifted and your body no longer feels far too large and far too soft. The frenetic energy of the hive seeps out of your bones, ceases assaulting your essence, and the ever-present pain of your existence lessens back to its usual levels.

Bugsy leads you into a building with lots of police officers, you and Wet scuttling inside after them with Fall in your arms. Bugsy then starts whispering to a police officer in a quiet voice that you could probably eavesdrop on but don't because you are very distracted by all the interesting smells everywhere. 

A bunch of police officers follow you as Bugsy leads you into a bland-looking room with nothing but a table, two chairs, and a camera in the corner. That's a table and two chairs more than you're used to, though, so you happily take a seat, wiggling your butt a little to get comfortable. 

"Alright, Mercury," Bugsy says, sitting down across from you. You kick your feet a little as you snuggle Fall. "Do you mind if I let out some of my Pokémon?" 

"Nope," you confirm, and then with a flash of light a Scizor stands next to Bugsy, watching you carefully. She is… very powerful, closer to the strength of Blue's team than she is to you. You doubt you could defeat her, though you also see no reason why you would want to try. You silently convey this to the Scizor, since she seems a little tense. 

Bugsy is too, come to think of it. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, tilting your head to the side. 

"Well," Bugsy says, "do you remember when I told you I was investigating a crime?" 

"Yes," you nod.

"Well, I'd like you to tell me what you saw in and around the Slowpoke Well when you went there last night. What did you see and do?"

Oh. 

"You would like a report?" you ask, your back straightening. 

"I… yes, Mercury," Bugsy says, concern on their face. "Please give a report."

"Acknowledged," you agree flatly. "The operation included eighty-six known targets, twenty-five human and sixty-one Pokémon, all at an estimated power level below fifteen, arranged between Rattata, Zubat, Ekans, and Koffing. Slowpoke were also present but were not targets of the operation."

The words drop out of you easily, like a long-memorized script. You were never actually deployed for off-site operations, but if you forgot the entire human language, words like these would be among the last to go. 

"After the operation began, I infiltrated the mission area via the elimination of the forward guard through an arterial wound on the neck. This was not a stealth mission and so I engaged from the front. After entering the well, I released my Pokémon, and—"

"W-wait," Bugsy says. "To be clear, you claim to have killed the guard outside the well before releasing your Pokémon?" 

"Affirmative."

Bugsy stares at you. You stare back. 

"I… alright. Please continue."

"I released my Pokémon and ordered them to engage at will. As there was only one available exit to the mission area which I controlled, I proceeded with the extermination of the humans inside. After task completion, I returned to the Pokémon Center."

"Are you saying you did this alone?" Bugsy asks. 

Well, no, but you already told them that you released your Pokémon so you suppose anyone who didn't kill people doesn't count? Silver probably wouldn't want you to mention him anyway.

"Affirmative," you nod. "I personally killed all twenty-five Team Rocket members in and around Slowpoke Well." 

Bugsy shifts uncomfortably, their Scizor staring you down intensely. You indicate again that there is no need for this, you are obeying the Worthy one. 

"Why are you telling me this?" Bugsy asks. 

You blink, knocked out of your habitual answers by such a subjective question. After action reports aren't really about the why.

"Because… you asked?" you answer, confused. "Why would I not answer you?" 

"Mercury, you just took responsibility for a large number of incredibly serious felonies."

"Oh, okay," you say, thinking for a moment. "What's a felony?" 

Again, Bugsy shifts uncomfortably.

"Mercury," they say slowly. "Did someone tell you to say those things to me?"

"You did," you remind them. 

"Did anyone else tell you to say those things to me?" they clarify. 

"No?" 

"Okay. Mercury. Do you understand that claiming to have killed someone can get you in a lot of trouble?" 

"But they were Team Rocket," you point out. "They deserve to die. All of them."

Bugsy is quiet for a while, countless expressions running over their face. They seem… scared. Not of you , but of what you're saying. They're scared to believe you and be wrong. They're scared about not believing you and being wrong. 

"...Do you have any parents I could get in contact with?" Bugsy asks.

"No," you answer. Humans generally can't talk to the dead.

"What about other guardians?" 

"There's my Aunt Tess," you nod. "Or… oh! Am I in trouble?" 

Bugsy hesitates, and then nods.

"You could accurately describe this situation as 'in trouble,'" they hedge.

"Okay. Then I need to call Blue. I am supposed to call Blue if I am in trouble."

"Blue… Oak?" Bugsy asks, looking increasingly out of their depth.

"Maybe?" you say, tilting your head.

"Former Indigo Champion Blue Oak," Bugsy clarifies, and you nod. That definitely sounds right. 

"I can't just call Blue Oak all the way to Azalea Town," Bugsy insists. 

"That's okay," you say, pulling out your Pokégear and dialing his number. "I can."

The phone rings three and a half times before Blue answers with a staticky crackle. 

"Kiddo?" he asks, his voice slightly unclear. "What's up?" 

"Hello, Blue," you say. "Are you busy right now?" 

Something like a roar echos in the background, the frantic words of a bunch of other humans indistinguishable behind it. 

"Not so busy I can't take a call," Blue says. "How have you been, kiddo?" 

"I am good," you answer honestly. "I got my second gym badge. I think Wet had fun." 

"Er. Wet?" 

"He is my Krabby," you explain. "He is very skilled but very stupid."

"Ha-HA! Our master thinks I am skilled! Glorious!"

"An idiot savant, huh?" Blue muses fondly over a few shouts in the background. "I know the type."

"An idiot savant," you say, tasting the words. "Yes. He is." 

"You hear that, Fall? Wet gasps. "I'm a savant!"

"Please do not talk to me," Fall rumbles.

"Well, that's awesome news, Mercury," Blue says. "I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the gym challenge. I bet you kicked Bugsy's a—er, butt. You got anything else going on, or is this just an update?" 

"Oh, yes, there's one other thing," you nod. "I'm sitting with Bugsy right now, actually. I think at the police station? I'm here because…" 

You glance up at Bugsy, who is staring at you with one of the most complex expressions you've ever seen on a human face. 

"Why am I here?"

"Because of twenty-six murder charges," they say.

"Because of twenty-six murder charges," you dutifully repeat. 

Blue is quiet on the line for a while, the sound of roaring Pokémon and panicking humans trickling in quietly from the background. 

"What happened?" Blue eventually asks. 

"Team Rocket was here," you explain. "I was scared at first because I thought they were going to take me back but then I found out they were weak so I killed them instead so they can't take anyone anymore. Like you did! But now Bugsy says I'm in trouble. Did I do something bad?" 

There's another pause.

"...Can you hand Bugsy the phone for me, kiddo?" Blue asks. 

"Okay," you agree, and do that. Bugsy wordlessly takes it. 

"Hello?" they ask helplessly after putting it up to their ear. 

"Yeah, hello bugfucker, what the hell happened?" Blue snaps, his voice very quiet but still perfectly audible to you now that Bugsy has the phone. 

"I'm getting the distinct impression you know more about that than I do!" Bugsy fires back. "I come back to my town and find a mass murder scene at the bottom of the well, just… a complete fucking bloodbath, the water source isn't going to be safe until we get something out here to clean it. Twenty-six human corpses, looking like they were torn apart by a mix of psychic powers and a rabid beast, with signs of Ghost, Ice, and Bug attacks scattered here and there as well. An absolute slaughter, brutal and messy. And then I find these three kids who entered town pretty damn close to the ETD on the well side and I think 'hey, maybe they witnessed something!' But when I ask the girl with the developmental disorder what she saw she admits to the entire crime, in detail."

"And you believed her!?"

"I don't know, Blue!" Bugsy snaps. "Should I!? Did you sic a psychic child assassin on my town!?" 

"She's not a fucking assassin!" Blue snaps. "She's a kid! A really, really traumatized kid." 

"Alright," Bugsy says, standing up and starting to pace around the room. "But is she a murderer?"

Blue is quiet for a little while.

"I don't know," he admits. "Knowing her… if she said she did it, she probably did."

"How? Where's she hiding her Pokémon?" Bugsy asks. "What I saw in there… no human psychic could do that. Sabrina wouldn't even come close. But she doesn't have a psychic registered to her team."

"She…"

"Spit it out."

"She's a human experiment, Bugs. Team Rocket tortured her in a lab for eight years. She's well beyond human levels."

"Arceus," Bugsy swears. 

"Yeah," Blue agrees.

There's another pause. You start running your fingers through your tail.

"So… you're saying she has the means, motive, and opportunity?" Bugsy says after a while.

"Bugsy, no."

"What the fuck do you mean no?"

"I mean no, you asshole! She's not a criminal, she's a victim!" 

"She killed over two dozen people!" Bugsy shouts. "She said they deserve it!" 

"They do!" Blue snaps. "They're a mass-murdering terrorist cell! And Mercury, of all people, deserves a blank check to fuck up anyone with an R on their chest!" 

"No! Nobody gets a 'blank check' for murder!"

"Oh you are not bleeding your heart over a bunch of fucking Neo-Rockets right now," Blue growls. "Bugsy, it is literally our job to stamp those fuckers out before they destroy another city! Do you have any idea how much of a favor she just did your incompetent ass?" 

"Excuse me!?"

"I suggested Mercury try the badge challenge because I thought the oh-so-vaunted Johto gym leaders could at least keep the domestic terrorists out of their own fucking backyards, but I guess pieces of shit like you need a fifteen year old to do it for you!" 

"Blue, I have a responsibility to—"

"You do have a responsibility!" Blue shouts. "And you fucking failed at it! So if you try to pin the consequences on Mercury then I swear on the three birds I will teleport out there and shove your entire Arceus-damn Beedrill up whatever fuckhole you happen to have! Am I clear!?" 

Bugsy stands still for a while, seething silently at Blue's tirade, but they eventually take a deep breath and answer.

"I can't just sweep this under the rug, Blue," they sigh. "Someone has to take responsibility for this."

"Then I will," Blue says. "I did it. It's my job to, after all."

"You're going to get heat," Bugsy says. "It's the definition of excessive violence down there."

"Then that's my problem," Blue says. "Not yours."

Bugsy sighs again.

"Why are you doing this?" they ask. 

There's a shuffling noise from Blue's end of the call. 

"...You talked to her, right?" Blue asks. "Before the confession. You said you thought she had a developmental disorder."

"Yeah, and?" 

"Did she smile at all?" Blue asks. "Did she talk about anything she likes?"

"She… seemed fairly passionate about ice cream," Bugsy admits. 

"Yeah," Blue says. "Cute kid, right?"

"Blue, you can't—"

"I found her naked in a solitary confinement cell," Blue cuts them off. "The way she shivered when I opened that door, like she was afraid of even seeming afraid… the way she looked at me when I told her I wasn't going to hurt her, like I was Arceus himself… I have nightmares about it, you know? Not about the fight, just about her. I broke a little that day. Reading the reports. Learning what they did to her. Hearing her talk about it like it was all the most normal thing in the world, like it was all fine because she lost her ability to dream of a life without pain. Fuck, Bugsy. I didn't know people could be that evil. And I let that happen. We let that place rot underneath Kanto for eight fucking years. Of course I'm taking responsibility for this. It's my fault. It's all our faults. We let the world get this bad, and she had to pay the price for it." 

You kick your feet and clack your claws together, unable to ignore how anxious the conversation makes you. 

"...What if this happens again?" Bugsy asks eventually. "You're telling me to let a known mass murderer just… go free."

"She's not a fucking serial killer, Bugs," Blue sighs. "She's not going to kill people for no reason. She hasn't shown any violent tendencies since we picked her up, and she lived with her aunt just fine. I think… I mean, she just told you she did all this, right? I think she might not understand it was wrong." 

"Is that supposed to reassure me that she won't do something like this again?"

"Yes. Look, just put her back on the phone. I'll take care of it. She doesn't want to do anything wrong, she just needs people to explain things to her." 

Bugsy massages the bridge of their nose between two fingers and wordlessly hands you the Pokégear. You accept it and put it up to your face. Not your ear, though. Your ears are too far away from your mouth.

"Hello," you croak into the receiver. 

"Hey, kiddo. So, uh, I guess I should explain what's going on."

"I could hear both of you," you tell him. 

"Oh. Uh. Alright."

"Did I do something bad?" 

You don't think that's fair. You don't think hurting Team Rocket should ever be bad. 

"It's complicated, Mercury," Blue says. "Society is complicated. The short answer to all of this is that you shouldn't kill—ALAKAZAM, GET HIS ASS!"

You hear some screaming on the other line, which soon goes silent. 

"…You usually shouldn't kill people," Blue finishes. 

"I don't usually kill people," you frown. 

"Right, yeah, I mean… even bad people. Because it's not your job to handle bad people. And sometimes the best way to handle bad people isn't by hurting them. It's just… stopping them some other way. Because bad people hurt people, right? And you don't want to be bad?"

"I don't want to be bad," you agree. 

"Right. Exactly," Blue sighs. "Look, I know… sometimes you have to hurt people to protect yourself or to protect others."

"That's what you did to save me," you say.

"Yeah," Blue agrees. "Exactly. But most of the time, you don't have to, and so you shouldn't." 

"What should I do?" you ask. 

"If you see Team Rocket again?" Blue asks. "You can call me. Or if I'm not available, you can go to a police officer or gym leader. You don't need to fight them yourself." 

You think back to the moment you heard they were there. The all-consuming panic. The madness, that almost felt like you were there all over again. You curl up in your chair, your fur bristling.

"...Yes I did," you say quietly. 

"What?"

"I did!" you insist, bits of your illusion starting to fray like wisps in the wind. "I had to. I couldn't think, knowing they were there. I couldn't breathe! What if they… what if they…!?"

"Mercury, kiddo, you're alright, okay? Deep breaths for me. Deep breaths."

You slowly follow his advice, getting yourself a bit more under control. 

"Kiddo," Blue says, "I want you to remember something." 

"What?" you ask. You'll remember anything. Anything he commands. 

"You don't have to think about them anymore," he says. "You don't have to deal with them. You don't have to live with them in your life. Because it's my job to fight the bad guys. It's your job to just be the best Mercury, whatever you decide that means. If anyone or anything is stopping you, then all you have to do is let me know. I'll clear the way. I'll help you do anything you want to do. Just say the word." 

Then why wouldn't he let you be part of his team?

"Do you want any help getting up to Goldenrod, kiddo?" Blue continues. "If traveling is too much for you, then—"

"No," you say, to your own surprise. "I want to travel with my friends." 

"Okay," Blue says, and you can hear the smile on his face. "Okay, that's great news. But no killing people, alright? That's a rule." 

"Okay," you nod. "No killing people." 

"And if something bad happens that makes you want to kill someone?"

"Call you, or get a gym leader," you say. Silver would be mad if you went to the police, you think. 

"Good. Great. Thank you, Mercury. Would you hand Bugsy the phone back for a moment?"

"Okay," you agree miserably, and do so. Bugsy takes it, and this time they head well outside of the room before talking, so you can't hear them. They return a few minutes later, handing you your Pokégear with a stern expression.

"...I want you out of my town by tomorrow morning," they say firmly. 

"Okay," you agree, taking the Pokégear and letting yourself be escorted out of the station. Bugsy stares at you for a little while, shakes their head, and then leaves.

That… that was a lot. For a while, you just sit there, not quite knowing what to do. But you suppose you have your orders. 

You head to the Pokémon Center to make sure you're ready to leave.

Chapter Text

"Mercury! Hey, there you are! You missed our… uh. Wait, are you leaving?"

You look up at Kris, blinking slowly as you secure the second strap of your backpack. 

"Yes," you confirm. "Would you like to come with me?" 

"I… now?" she asks, standing shocked in the doorway to your shared room. You finished packing pretty much immediately, since you don't own anything that you aren't already carrying everywhere, but you've been waiting for Kris and Silver to return from their battle with Bugsy before you leave. You put the backpack on when you heard her coming down the hallway, or more accurately when you heard her happily chattering away at Tutu and Riri. 

"Tonight," you clarify.

"Uh… that's really soon," Kris hedges. "I mean, it'll take two or three days to head through Ilex Forest, but it's still probably best to start our trip tomorrow morning, rather than tonight. It's already getting close to sunset." 

That makes sense, given how bad Kris is at seeing and traveling in the dark. But Bugsy wants you out of town by tomorrow morning. Therefore, you must leave by tonight. 

"I will be leaving tonight," you say firmly. Someone worthy has given you an order, after all. "If you would rather wait, then I will meet you in Goldenrod."

"Um… okay," Kris says hesitantly. "Did something happen? Bugsy was late for my gym match and they seemed really on edge." 

You hesitate. Kris is your friend. However, she is not Worthy. And… the idea of telling her makes you uncomfortable for some reason.

"I don't want to talk about it," you manage to say, forcing the words out. "Are you coming with me?" 

"I… I can probably manage it," Kris says. "Can you give me an hour or two to pack and get new gear and stuff? And did you buy more food?"

You blink.

"Buy… food?" you say.

You're going to go to a forest. It's literally going to be full of food, and ice cream would not keep on the… hmm. Actually, you're not supposed to kill people anymore, are you? And you can't eat a Pokémon without killing it…

"I did not think of that," you admit. 

Kris chuckles and shakes her head. Oh! Good. She's not mad at you. 

"Alright, you can come shopping with me," she says. "Did you ask Silver? They're downstairs."

"No," you say. "I guess I should? We are friends now I think?"

"Yeah," Kris smiles. "I guess we can be, if the grump will let us." 

You nod. It is true. Silver is a grump. The two of you go downstairs together and find Silver retrieving his team from the nurse, spotting you only as he turns to leave. You successfully intercept him before he can do so, however. 

"Hello," you tell Silver. "We will be leaving for Goldenrod tonight. Would you like to come with us?"

"And how did your gym battle go!?" Kris asks excitedly. You, of course, already know that he won; the distinct and sudden rise in his Worthiness matches exactly what happened to Kris' and your own. You don't like it.

"...It was weird," Silver frowns. 

"Right!?" Kris agrees. "It felt like their head really wasn't in the fight. I mean, I'll take the free win, but…"

"No," Silver says, shaking his head. "Bugsy's a professional. A little bit of distraction wouldn't cause a free win. We were pushed through the system. The fight was staged so that we would win." 

He looks right at you when he says that, confident that it is your fault for some reason. And… yes, it probably is, but you don't quite get how. Still, though…

"That's not what you meant, is it?" you ask. "When you said it was weird."

Silver was referring to a mystery he hadn't solved, after all. Something that can't be explained by blaming it on you. 

"Uh… yeah," Silver admits. "It's just… Bugsy saw through the disguise. Which like, duh, of course they did, the disguise sucked ass. But they just sort of… never acknowledged it? They talked about some of the things we said while I was disguised but they just… acted like the disguise never happened? It was weird." 

"Did you… want them to act like the disguise was there?" Kris asks carefully. 

"No!" Silver snaps. "I nearly had a heart attack when they started asking about 'when you approached me with your friends.' Arceus above, I was so embarrassed I thought I would die."

"But they acted like it was normal," Kris finishes. "They didn't ask about the disguise or treat it as weird."

"...Yeah," Silver says. "Freakiest experience of my entire life." 

Hmm. That… hmm. Like a Pokémon, you're very good at understanding emotions and what people are trying to convey. Humans, however, can frequently still be confusing; they make leaps of logic that aren't clear to you, their emotions and intent failing to encompass the whole of the meaning they wish to convey. The human reliance on language, you suspect, exists not only because humans are terrible listeners that struggle to understand others. That's a big reason, of course, but you're starting to see that it's also because humans exist partly in a realm of imagination basically all the time.

Humans do not only see the world as it is; it's not even their default, as mind-boggling as that is. Humans see the world as they wish it to be, and the terrifying thing about that is that it is not madness. It can be, in excess, but most of the time? You're just barely close enough to them to see and understand the edges of their imagination, and you know that it is what makes them so powerful. A human does not look at a berry tree and see a tree that makes berries. A human looks at a berry tree and sees a field of trees that make berries, more than they could ever possibly eat, just waiting to be made. They see the power they will gain from being able to trade those berries for more things. They see berry-flavored ice cream, and then create it from nothing but its constituent parts and the impossible, beautiful mind capable of imagining those parts together. 

Humans are bad listeners because the world inside their heads is so, so much more beautiful than the one that is real, and you cannot blame them at all for preferring to listen to beauty.

But there's another thing that can make humans so difficult to understand: sometimes, the world inside their minds is chaos. Sometimes it breaks, or sometimes they have yet to fully form it, like Arceus staring at the timeless blank canvas before creation. So the humans will say things and the humans will do things, but you cannot discern their intentions because they don't know what they intend either. They are acting in accordance not with the real world, not with their dream world, but with a world that even they themselves cannot yet see.

You're learning to recognize what that feels like, and that is what Silver's intent is doing now: churning in the darkness before light, in a world not yet born. Yet for the first time ever, you're pretty sure that you can see the world he's lost in, even though he can't. You're pretty sure that you've been trapped there this whole time, and seeing it in him is a truly strange sensation.

"The people you grew up with would have yelled at you or hurt you," you say. "But Bugsy didn't. It's weird, isn't it? It's weird when you do something wrong but no one is mad."

Kris' response is predictable: her usual shock and sympathy, the kind that makes you feel like you don't belong. Silver gives you a much more complicated look, but with your recent understanding it is easy to read. Surprise. Bitterness. Fear. A desperate urge to protect himself, though he doesn't know what from.

You remember being human once. You remember, at least in pieces, what it was like to see the world for more than what it is. You don't particularly miss the ability, as powerful as it is, but you feel as though you've grasped some tiny wisp of it just now, however briefly. 

"...I guess," Silver mutters.

"Blue says that most of the things I thought were wrong aren't," you continue, a little hesitantly. "And… I think some of the things I thought weren't wrong are."

"Yeah, I get it," Silver huffs. "My parents were real pieces of shit. I know that."

He scowls, staring at nothing for a while before he suddenly changes the subject. 

"...I'll pass on leaving tonight," he says. "I'm tired, and I'd rather travel alone anyway." 

"Are you sure?" Kris asks. "You're more than welcome to—"

"I'm sure," Silver cuts her off. "I need some time to think."

"...Okay," Kris sighs. "We'd love to meet up with you in Goldenrod, though!"

"I'll consider it," Silver says, though he obviously means 'yes of course I'll see you there,' so you smile. 

"See you there," you agree with him, and he scowls at you. Hehe. Grumpy. "Let's go get ready, Kris."

"Oh, uh, alright!" Kris agrees. "Bye for now, Silver!"

Kris helps you get ready for a week out in the woods, even though she said it would only take two or three days ("Just in case we need to be prepared!") and it isn't long before the two of you are setting out into Ilex Forest, at least by your standards of time. It's a deep, dark place. It's easy for you to see how humans would get lost in it. 

You take a deep breath, and let your illusion drop. 

Why not, right? Kris knows what you are, and you'd be able to tell if any other humans were nearby long before they could ever see you. You yawn, letting your tail stretch out behind you rather than constantly be wrapped up close so no one brushes against it from too far away for the illusion to convince them otherwise. It feels so good, especially out here in the thick concentration of Grass energy teasing your senses and encouraging you to relax, so you put your entire body into the stretch, allowing yourself a happy wiggle of your toes. You never even bothered to put more than the illusion of shoes on before setting out. 

Kris is surprised at first, but she manages a soft smile as she watches all this unfold.

"You look happy," she says. 

"Mrrr," you purr in confirmation. 

"Ahh! Mercury, you can't do something that adorable or I'm gonna want to pet you!" 

"You can," you tell her. You are, to your own surprise, kind of in the mood to be touched? You haven't felt this relaxed in… ever, maybe? You flick one ear as Kris hesitantly reaches over to give your head an awkward scratch (despite your permission, she seems extremely hesitant for some reason) and you do your best to try and push your mind to think about that. Are you being affected by an airborne soporific? You don't think so; Kris would be even more affected than you if that were the case. There's just something in the air that makes you not want to be angry or afraid. Something that pleasantly saps away all your will to fight. Something… 

Holy.

You blink a few times, trying to clear the fog enough to hold onto that thought. You grab Kris' hand (the pets are very much not helping you think clearly) and sniff the air a few times. Yes. That's the feeling. It's similar to the Ruins of Alph, but without the implicit threat, without the anger, without the demand to begone. It is not the sort of holy that judges you for your lack of piety, but it is the sort that declares itself hallowed grounds, demanding respect. This is a place of rest, it says. Behold it if you desire. Disturb it at your peril. 

Something in your heart aches for that. Something in your heart fears it. But you're making the decision to investigate before you even finish considering the thought.

"Follow," you tell Kris, lightly pulling her towards the source of the feeling. 

"Woah! Uh, Mercury, I don't think we're supposed to go this way!"

"We are," you inform her, and you keep walking, pushing off the path. It's already starting to get dark out, and Kris is clearly worried about that, so after about ten minutes of walking and feeling her anxiety you pull her in and nuzzle her face. 

"Ack! Ppfth! Mercury, what the heck?" 

"You are safe," you promise her. "Even if you cannot see, I can. There is nothing that will hurt you. Come this way, please." 

"U-uh. Okay." 

You resume your journey, the calm feeling all the more powerful now, but your curiosity all the more powerful along with it. You keep pressing forward, not knowing or caring how long it takes, before you finally push into a clearing, a spot of the forest that even the trees themselves respect. At the back rests a small shrine, intricate in craftsmanship. It feels at once unfathomably old and brand new, for signs of both are present in its structure: some wood is so old it seems more moss and fungi than wood at all, while other planks have clearly replaced their elders, the shrine perpetually repaired by what could only be human hands.

"Woah," Kris says softly. "I never expected something like this here." 

You tilt your head at her, silently asking for more information before remembering humans don't really do that well.

"Something like what?" you prompt aloud, your voice a whisper for reasons you do and don't understand.

"It looks like a traditional shrine from old Johto," Kris says, approaching the structure, "but if you look close, you can see that the foundations are a lot older, like someone built a shrine on top of a spot where an even older shrine once existed. I think right here is a—" 

You leap forward, snatching Kris's hand while being very, very careful not to hurt her even the slightest bit. 

"... Don't touch," you whisper. 

She glances at the shrine, then back to you, staring at your face for a while before gently prying your fingers off her wrist. 

"Okay," she promises. "I won't. Is everything alright, Mercury?" 

"Holy," you whisper. 

"Holy?"

"Holy," you nod, completing the trinity. 

Kris glances back at the shrine.

"Do you want to leave an offering?" she asks. "There's a spot on the shrine for that."

You tilt your head.

"Offering?" you ask. "Of what?"

"Mmm. Could be anything, really. I think food would be traditional for a shrine like this, but as long as it has value to you, it would be a respectful offering."

Oh. Oh! You nod, taking your backpack off. You would very much like to leave an offering. You must respect this place. It is Holy. You fuss around with the things Kris helped you buy until you eventually find a collection of dried fruits. Human fruits, so they lack any of that soothing, healing energy in proper berries, but this kind also doesn't have any of the gross chemical smells humans usually put on their food and they are delightfully sweet. You pull out a bunch of your favorite flavors and put them on the shrine. Kris, meanwhile, takes out the ingredients for a sandwich and puts one together. She cuts it in half, places one half on the shrine next to your dried fruits, and keeps the other half to eat.

"There we go," she smiles. "I'm sure whoever this shrine is for will appreciate it." 

You nod very largely at her to show the degree of your agreement, and she giggles. Oh yay, humans understand that! 

"This would be a good place to set up camp," Kris says. "As long as we keep a good distance from the shrine and don't crowd it, do you think that would be okay?"  

You hesitate, a little worried about it, but ultimately this place feels quite welcoming. It is, fundamentally, a place of rest. To use it as such feels intrinsically correct.

"...Okay," you nod at Kris. "This is a good place for sleep." 

"Alright," she says, giving you a considering look. "Are you sure you're okay, Mercury? You're acting kind of skittish. Sort of like… y'know. At the ruins." 

"It is like the ruins," you confirm. "But… not in a bad way, I think. We should stay." 

"Oh," Kris says, looking a little nervous herself. "We aren't going to get attacked by freaky Pokémon again, are we?" 

"No," you say firmly. You literally can't imagine such a thing. "Not here. Never." 

"Alright, if you're sure," Kris agrees. 

She directs you on how to set up the tent (it is so nice getting clear orders you can follow!) and soon enough the two of you have eaten and are curled up in sleeping bags inside. You fall asleep almost immediately—something that rarely happens—and you don't have a single nightmare, either. 

At least, not until you wake up.

It's still dark when your rest ends, as it always is. The more Ghost you become, the less sleep your body seems to need. But unlike the slow and comfy wakeup you had sleeping with Kris and Silver last night, today you are fully conscious the exact moment you wake. 

Instant death surrounds you. Perfect protection surrounds you. A power so far outstripping your own that it renders your agency nothing but a vain wish has entered this clearing. Your instincts scream at you: grovel or run. There is no alternative. 

And yet, some horribly stupid part of you (the human part) wants to see.

Slowly, terror running through you, you peek out from the tent flap, revealing your head as free to be chopped off at will, and glance towards the source of the power. 

And there, sitting on the shrine, a two-foot-tall green god sits kicking its feet and eating Kris' sandwich. 

As you watch, it turns, one brilliant blue eye on the side of its head staring into your soul. You freeze, utterly paralyzed, as it calmly finishes the sandwich. 

"It's you," a thrumming voice says inside your head. "The Eyes have been up in Arms about you, you know. Hehe!"

You don't know, but you want nothing more than to express how immensely sorry you are. For anything. For everything. 

"Hmm."

The god puts the last of the sandwich in its mouth and floats over to you. You watch, for you can do nothing else.

"Be at peace, oh lost one," the god says in your mind. "Your offerings have made my rest unusually delightful. The meal your friend gave me was thoughtful, but I confess that much like you, I have quite the fondness for sweets. I liked your fruits the most."

Your muscles untense, so you shift your body, scrunching low to the ground to show submission. 

"That is good," you convey. "Sweets are good."

"Indeed," the god agrees, the twinkle of a smile in its eyes. "I am glad you have rested here, lost one. I am Fate. I wish to speak with you."

You feel an urge to inform the god that you aren't actually lost, but a desperate survival instinct manages to hold the words inside your throat. The god giggles. 

"Truly a contradiction, aren't you? The human wants to speak, yet the Pokémon knows to listen. You command others to battle, yet you wish to be commanded yourself. Origin did not make either half of you to be combined with the other this way."

You know. You can feel it. You are wrong. You know. The god's expression turns to something like sympathy. 

"It must be a true torment to be so close to Arceus' truth yet barred from embodying it," it says. "But you need not fear, lost one. Your way cannot be found, but it can be chosen."

How?

"The contradiction must be resolved," Fate says. "You have two clear paths before you. Cease braving the forest between and choose."

But you cannot choose. You cannot be a human. You cannot be a Pokémon. You are not both, you are neither.

"Then you shall be forever caught in the thorns," Fate declares, "and even I cannot tell you what you will become as a result. This is why I am glad you have come to my place of rest, oh lost abomination. I have a warning for you."

It floats down directly in front of your face, the weight of its power almost too much to bear. 

"Seek the burned tower," Fate decrees. "I cannot be your champion, though I see your past and deem you blameless. It is not my place to judge your Worthiness, nor your Devotion, yet without one or the other you will remain lost until your madness and sin scours the world anew. If you do not wish to bring ruin to this world, then enlist the aid of those chosen by rebirth."

You shiver, Fate's words pressing into you.