[I made it through the Amethyst Room in Victory Road!!!]

I hate being hunted too, so I also found this room harrowing to complete. Congratulations on managing it! 
 

 

[From Everland to Reborn ~ A fairytale themed run [Last defeated: Amaria]]

22 hours ago, Candy said:

When Gardevoir yeeted the PULSE, Vanilla and Cain to the black hole, Vanilla was just getting out of the PULSE’s grasp; however, the PULSE renewed the grasp on her in the black hole. So the black hole in the plane of reality contains: Vanilla (and Pikachu), Cain, the PULSE and Gardevoir, out of which Cain and Vanilla are unconscious and mentally tied to the PULSE.

 

Okay, that makes sense.

 

22 hours ago, Candy said:

I might’ve broken the fourth wall without meaning to cause I don’t recall writing that in

 

I think this was in the previous chapter, where, if I remember correctly, Lin has ideas about what’s a good character and what isn’t. 

 

22 hours ago, Candy said:

If it’s about child Lin appearing in her dream, it’s on child Lin’s will, like she’s actively adding an avatar of herself in the dream. It was my mediocre effort to include the implication that child Lin is playing with us […] and that she has got supernatural powers that allow her to bend the laws of what is possible

 

Yes, I was talking about child Lin and her capabilities. I just didn’t want to name her first. 

 

22 hours ago, Candy said:

As for mom, yeah Vanilla doesn’t often think about her, because, tl;dr, Vanilla is somewhat concerned about what might’ve happened to her after she left Everland (as written in the chapter right before Luna gym battle) but also, she’s not the most attached to her mom, because she has rarely been a “mom” to Vanini (as written in the dedicated side story about her mom).
There’s a couple of meanings to her appearing in Vanilla’s dream, one of which would be a spoiler for something so down the line that, by the time I get there, I’ll have forgotten I wrote this scene The other is that I think of Vanini’s mom as a symbol for innocence (she rarely speaks, but when she does, it’s with child-like wonder) and nurture (she tends to her plants everyday, so much so that Vanini can’t recall her without remembering her love of plants… side note, I think Vanini would’ve liked if she’d been as interested in her daughter as much as she was about her plants). So, when the Queen kills her and many others by shutting her book, it’s just my attempt to show the level of “bad” the Queen is in Vanilla’s head.

 

I see… 

 

22 hours ago, Candy said:

Sorry for the rambling lol it was definitely one of the chapters that gave me the most emotional damage writing cause it’s too ambitious for my writing skills 🫠

Don’t sell yourself short, I think you did a pretty good job! 

and even if it hadn't been as good, then you would still have written it

[From Everland to Reborn ~ A fairytale themed run [Last defeated: Amaria]]

Yay, fEtR is back! 
 

I think you took great advantage of the color scheme, it makes it very easy to keep track of viewpoint changes! And hooray for Shelly, who is now primed to do great things!  
 

So Vanilla’s mother was humming while watering her plants… given just how infrequently she’s mentioned in the story (yet significant – although I’ve forgotten why I know this), I’d like to say this is a hint of some sort… but maybe it’s not! 
 

The queen is given a rather on-point role in the vision… but this makes me wonder (canon  spoilers!!) 

Spoiler

how much of Vanilla’s backstory is basically Lin’s creation. As far as we know, all of Everland could just be in Vanilla’s head and Aladdin/Jasmine/Candy could be made to corroborate it… the one flaw here is Archer, but even then it’s not like literal God couldn’t give him a few false memories… 

 

I am, however, a bit confused as to how the events played out. If Shelly has Vanilla’s body all this time, what happened to the small black hole? How does the PULSE act on Vanilla from a separate dimension? And if the trance is mental, then how is this grey-colored figment of Vanilla’s imagination able to break the fourth wall? 

[Timburr Puzzle Strategy guide (4X4 Rotation)]

On 7/16/2023 at 12:37 AM, Ace1pilot said:

Can someone please help me solve  the concelder  puzzle  have all of the puzzle pieces  in the correct order except  for the last square  on the bottom left and I just can't seem  to find the last correct solution  please I really could use some help.

 

Sorry to answer so late (I stumbled on this by chance -- had you created a proper thread, it might have been noticed much earlier)! I hope that you were able to come up with a solution on your own.

If not, try this out (U means "give this tile a half-turn", O means "do not rotate this tile").

 

Spoiler

O U U O

U O U U

U U O U

O U U O

 

 

@Beau I can (assuming that there is a solution), so technically the answer to your question is "yes".

I will not help you here, however, because this is the wrong place to ask the question, you know it and yet you're still doing it.

[I'm getting ready to fight the elite four and I just want yall to check if my team is up to speed (litemode)]

Hi, 

 

It’s pretty difficult to give specific info without more detail. Two important questions that come to mind are:

 

1) Do you want to fight the League blind? Or do you know (or want to be told) what to expect? 
2) Do you play with items? 

I haven’t fought the League recently, and I haven’t played litemode at all, and I’m bad at this game, so I’m not very confident in my answer to your main question. But I think you will have a difficult time. 

 

(If you’re okay with spoilers, I can try to explain why in more detail.) 


Some advice:

 

0) Carry as many healing items (Potions, Revives) as you can. You’re going to need them. 

1) Get everyone to level 100. You need every inch of power you can. 
 

2) get rid of weak, redundant or otherwise useless HM moves (Fly, Rock Smash, Rock Climb, Strength). You don’t need them and they waste valuable move slots. 

3) is Icy Wind really the best idea on Simipour? Ice Beam sounds better. Simipour could probably use some speed too.  
 

4) I think Gyro Ball is a decent stab on Bronzong. I’m not sure that Metal Sound is as useful as a support move? 
 

5) Arcanine learns an excellent priority move (E Speed), it is worth using. 
 

6) at some point, perhaps more than once, you’re likely to end up against a mon that is simply too powerful for what you have. It might be worth having a way to neutralize such a mon (for instance, someone could know Toxic, then you use your potions and revives to survive while the poison does its job?). 
 

For slightly more revealing (but nothing big) information, I can tell you the following:

 

Spoiler

7) The League is difficult. It consists almost only of fast or hard-hitting mons (and often both – not to mention just how much the terrain helps them). I think you need more bulk, because you won’t outspeed and one-shot your enemies. Probably more power too.
 

8 Chesnaught might be one of the Pokemon with the highest number of unfavorable match-ups in the League. I would highly recommend changing it. 
 

9) it might be useful to have a powerful Fairy stab at your disposal. 

 

[Solve the Magic Square puzzle in a few minutes!]

Q: What is this?

A: This is (supposed to be) a guide towards understanding the magic square puzzle.

 

 

Q: What do you mean, understand it? Solve it?

A: Yes. Sort of. No. My purpose here is to explain a method to think about this puzzle. If you understand it, actually solving an instance of the puzzle becomes rather easy: you will be able to quickly derive sequences of moves leading towards a solution. I use the word “derive” because it’s not quite automatic, but it’s not difficult all the same. 

 

 

Q: Does that mean you will not give me the actual solution?

A: There are several solutions and tutorials out there for the game’s original starting positions (which you can reset to, if I remember correctly). I aim to explain to you how to go about finding a solution from any starting position (it could even be a partially complete puzzle!). For this, I’ll take different starting positions from the game.

 

 

Q: I don’t care, I’ve done it once and now I have New Game Plus.

A: This is absolutely fair! Just remember that you have an option to stop fearing that puzzle.

 

 

Q: You’re not the first one doing this.

A: Indeed not. There’s a guide by Thiazzi which is certainly worth reading. But my method is different, and I believe that it is more flexible (and it produced shorter solutions). Moreover, it seems that these guide has not had the impact it deserved, given what Ame (the puzzle’s own creator!) said in her stream, about “people who were watching not being able to help her”. She succeeded without outside help, but I still think that another attempt to demythify this puzzle is worthwhile.

 

 

Q: Is this going to involve math? I don’t like math. Numbers make me itch. Equations give me nausea.

A: Well… yes and no. My method is definitely mathematical in its spirit. But if this question describes you, chances are that you don’t know what kind of mathematical concepts are involved. Which is completely fine! This isn’t a math class, and there are no prerequisites for this tutorial.

 

 

 

 

 

 

1°) The Rules

You probably know them already, but I think it’s worth recalling them.

We are given 18 digits in three rows of six: every digit between one and nine appears twice. For instance, a starting position could be (I didn't think about the pick at all; I don't think it's atypical in any way):

 

486411

323578

927659

 

The goal is to end up in a situation where

a)     The two 3x3 squares, left and right, contain every digit from 1 to 9 exactly once.

b)     In these squares, the sum of the digits on all four lines going through the center is 15.

c)     No digit occupies the same position in both squares, except maybe for the center.

 

Maybe b) is a little bit abstract: concretely, for the left square, the four sums that would need to be equal to 15 are 4+2+7, 8+2+2, 6+2+9, 3+2+3. The condition is (obviously) not satisfied.

 

The condition a) fails too, since the left square contains both 3, and the condition c) is also not satisfied, since the digit 4 has the same position in both squares.

 

So we need to change the grid. There are two kinds of allowed operations:

i.                 Shift any row leftwards, or rightwards.

ii.                Shift any column upwards, or downwards.

 

For instance, if you shift the second row rightwards, it starts from 323578 and becomes 832357: the rightmost digit goes to the left. Similarly, if you shift the last column downwards, it starts from 189 and becomes 918: the downmost digit goes all the way up. 

 

 

2°) Why do we need a guide?

Well, you can try solving the puzzle on your own! It’s not too difficult to get one square right, but you run into a major issue when trying to complete the second one: every move that gets you closer to completing the second square messes up the first one. So we can’t be straightforward; we need to be craftier.

 

Just to clarify for later: in a solved square, the 5 has to be in the center, and the two other numbers in every line must add up to ten. For instance:

 

368

159

247

 

 

3°) The Technique

To solve this puzzle, our main tool is the 3-cycle (which I will sometimes call "cycle" since we won't consider any other kind).

Please do not let this (admittedly ugly) name frighten you. It’s very simple: choose three spots in the grid, and then move them all around.

 

486411     >     476411

323578     >     823538

927659     >     927659

 

Note how all three bolded digits changed location – in a cycle – and no other digit did, hence the name. Not so scary now, is it?

 

Now, we can’t do just any 3-cycle (apart from a column shift) in one move, but let us assume, for a moment, that we could. Then we have a lot of possible actions, because there are so many available 3-cycles. In one move, we can move one digit (in fact, two, a lot of the time) of our choice to a location of our choice, and yet preserve (almost) anything we have already built: thus we can solve the puzzle one (or two) digits at a time.

 

Look: in the above configuration, we just need five 3-cycles (underlined indicate a cycle that was just moved; bold denotes the cycle that will move at the next step)!

 

486411     >     486411     >     486411     >     386411     >     386451     >     386431

323578     >     353278     >     353278     >     953278     >     951278     >     951258

927659     >     927659     >     927956     >     427956     >     427936     >     427976

 

Note that when you’re including two identical digits in a 3-cycle, it looks like one of them doesn’t move, which is often convenient.

The point of the first cycle is to put one 5 in the center, and put both 2 in correct positions.

The second cycle puts the 9 and a 6 in correct positions.

The third cycle puts the leftmost 3 and 4 in correct positions, and 9 in a promising one.

The fourth cycle brings a 1 in front of this 9 while putting the 3 in the second square, and the last cycle wraps the puzzle up.

 

Note that there’s no need to optimize anything or think three moves ahead here: you really can improve one step at a time (except at the end, technically – I’ll come back to it in the end later).

 

I invite you – for practice – to reconsider the starting position, and try coming up with sequences of 3-cycles that solve the puzzle.

 

Do you see now how using 3-cycles makes the puzzle drastically easier?

 

 

4°) How to do a 3-cycle?

But so far this isn’t concrete. We’ve pretended that we could do any 3-cycle we chose. But they’re not in the operations we’re allowed to do, so what was the point? The only 3-cycles we can apply are the column shifts, and they’re clearly not sufficient on their own for what we did in the second paragraph.

 

But these column moves still do something important: they allow us to move three tiles around, while leaving everything else in place.

 

The trick to do a general 3-cycle is the following:

i.                 Put the three digits in a column.

ii.                Shift the column upwards or downwards (whichever corresponds to what you want to do)

iii.               Rewind precisely what you did in step i.

 

Again, that’s a little bit abstract, how about some practice? Remember the first cycle: 

486411     >     486411

323578     >     353278

927659     >     927659

 

Here, the simplest way is to put everything on the second column. For instance, we can shift the fourth column up, then shift the first row leftwards twice.

 

This gives:

 

486411     >     486511     >     865114     >     651148

323578     >     323678     >     323678     >     323678

927659     >     927459     >     927459     >     927459

 

Now, we want the 5 to end up in the spot of the blue 2, so step ii. means shifting the second column downward.

 

651148     >     621148

323678     >     353678

927459     >     927459

 

In step iii., we rewind step i.: that means shifting the first row rightwards twice, then move the fourth column downwards.

 

621148     >     862114     >     486211     >     468411

353678     >     353678     >     353678     >     353278

927459     >     927459     >     927459     >     927659

 

 

For a little bit of practice, how about finding the sequences of moves for the second and fourth 3-cycles in the solution of 3°)?

 

Remember, these cycles are:

 

486411     >     486411

353278     >     353278

927659     >     927956

 

Solution:

Spoiler

Let’s put the three digits in the fourth column. So I do

Column 4 Up

Row 1 Right

Row 3 Left

Row 3 Left

 

We get

486411     >     486211     >     148621     >     148621     >     148621

353278     >     353678     >     353678     >     353678     >     353678

927659     >     927459     >     927459     >     274599     >     745992

so step i. is done.

 

The 9 needs to go to the spot occupied by the red 6, so step ii. is

Column 4 Up

 

148621     >     148621

353678     >     353978

745992     >     745692

 

 

Then step iii. is rewinding step i.

Row 3 Right

Row 3 Right

Row 1 Left

Column 4 Down

 

That is:

 

148621     >     148621     >     148621     >     486211     >     486411

353978     >     353978     >     353978     >     353978     >     353278

745692     >     274569     >     927456     >     927456     >     927956

 

 

 

and

 

386411     >     386451

953278     >     951278

427956     >     427936

 

Solution: 

Spoiler

We put the 3 in the fifth column (completing step i.), then, since the 3 needs to occupy the position of the 5, the fifth column goes downward (step ii.). Finally, we rewind, and we’re done. Formally:

 

Row 2 Right

Row 2 Right

Column 5 Down

Row 2 Left

Row 2 Left

 

Concretely: 

 

386411     >     386411     >     386411     >     386451     >     386451     >     386451

953278     >     895327     >     789532     >     789512     >     895127     >     951278     

427956     >     427956     >     427956     >     427936     >     427936     >     427936

 

 

5°) The Ending

Let’s sum up. While there are at least three numbers that are not at the correct spot, you can form a 3-cycle and get at least one of them (and often two) in the correct spot. But what happens at the end, if only two of them are in the wrong position?

 

Well, we have a problem, because we can’t switch two elements only by using 3-cycles. I’m not going to prove it, because I promised we wouldn’t get into math (and also because it depends on some details -- note, say, the first 3-cycle of the solution I gave for the invented starting point).

 

Fortunately, there’s a workaround: if you need to switch two elements, you can choose another pair to switch. Thus, instead of having two elements in the “wrong place”, you have four of them, and you can use a 3-cycle to put exactly one of the four elements in the right place. Then you’re left is just a 3-cycle.

 

This is a bit dry, so here’s an example:

 

836431

951258

427976

 

We have to switch the 8 and the 3 in the top left corner. We can’t really do that with 3-cycles, but what we can do is switch 8 and 3, and switch the underlined 6 and 4 as well.

 

So we do the 3-cycle 8 -> 3 -> 4 -> 8 (because the goal is to get one number at the right place; -> means “takes the place formerly occupied by”), and we reach

 

486431

951258

327976

 

Then all we have to do is the 3-cycle 3 -> 4 -> 6 -> 3, and we get

 

384431

951258

627976

 

So the puzzle is solved!

 

 

There's also another way: we can do a 3-cycle with two identical digits being the same, for instance the cycle 8 -> 3 -> 3 -> 8 in

 

836431

951258

427976

 

 

 

That’s it, we’ve covered everything!

I hope this was clear enough and that you now feel ready to devise your own solution to the various puzzle positions you got in. If not, please tell me how I could improve this explanation. 

 

[From Everland to Reborn ~ A fairytale themed run [Last defeated: Amaria]]

Wow, a new chapter! How delightful! 

I'm envious.

 

There is, of course, no reason why the pajama girl shouldn't be a figment of Vanilla's imagination, let alone make another appearance in the story.   

 

So, here, the Void is indeed something different... it seems to just reflect Vanilla's negative thoughts specifically -- Shelly's, on the other hand, do not seem incarnated. I'd guess that Lin is actually running the place and that's her fun. 

 

Cain and Gardevoir are nowhere to be seen, which isn't too surprising, but I worry about Shelly, since she doesn't have a way out.

 

I like the voice that you've given Shelly. Particularly the part where she compares Vanilla to Polaris...

 

[Magic Square Puzzle help needed]

It seems that the forums' guide to puzzles still provides a solution in this case. It's in the last spoiler (barring the signature) of the first post, look for "if Saphira is not abducted". 

 

[Help with Episode 19]

Disclaimer: I’m not a very good player. 

Still, I have a few remarks on your team. 

Greninja or Aegislash (perhaps Aegislash since it’s slower, but I wouldn’t be shocked if it was the both of them) should run a priority move – Water Shuriken or Shadow Sneak (over Iron Defense), respectively. 

Speaking of Greninja, I don’t understand the EV spread – it mostly has special moves, yet the EVs are in Attack? 
 

I think Excadrill is too frail to have this many status moves (and Fissure is completely unreliable). Maybe take a Steel stab (typically, Iron Head)? 
 

Swampert looks a bit redundant at this point, and I think you should at least replace Surf with a physical move (Waterfall or Liquidation) – you’re past the need for HMs.
 

Maybe ditch it altogether and use another mon (maybe a Psychic or Fairy-type, but it’s not the only option). 
 

The tournament battles, though, are not normal battles at all; the field really impacts the course of the battle, and the challenge is unusual enough that you could need to change some mons. I don’t understand these battles well enough to give specific advice beyond “try to figure out what makes you lose and try to fix or mitigate it”. 
 

For the first (double) battles, you might want to give some thought to screens in order to boost your defence. 
 

 

[E4 and champion team building help]

The League isn’t easy, but it’s definitely doable. But you haven’t answered what I felt was my most important question: how much advance information do you want on what you’ll be facing? 
 

You may want to check this thread about League-beating teams. It does contain some spoilers (the OP with the tier list doesn’t, and the first few answers looked fine, but still), so beware. 
 

My gut suggests Alolatales and M-Metagross. It’s probably worth taking at least another Fairy-type. Blaziken is apparently very popular but I’m more skeptical (but I’m a rather poor player and I haven’t tested it myself).

 

The League has quite a few hard hitters and some quite fast mons, so Pokemon that are neither powerful enough to one-shot nor fast enough to outspeed their foes are probably doomed. In my case, I had brought a Haxorus and a Mienshao, but they weren’t able to do much because they were basically outclassed all the time. 

[E4 and champion team building help]

I think this question can be answered in different ways, depending on what you want.

 

For instance, do you play with items? How much info about the League do you want to know beforehand? Are you willing to struggle a bit (and save-scum if necessary) until you find a satisfactory team or have a lucky break, or do you want to go in there to win on your first try? 

I’ll admit I have rather little knowledge about most of the mons you’re using (except as opponents!). Still, I find M-Metagross extremely tempting, and Alolatales is almost certainly worthwhile.

 

I’d like to be more specific but I don’t want to spoil you too much. At least, be aware that there are pretty scary teams in the League (while remaining manageable), so don’t neglect held items (Life Orb, Leftovers, Choice items, Seeds…). 

 

[Magic Square Puzzle [GUIDE]]

I think that Thiazzi was mentioning Marcello because of this dev blog post. As you see, the goal of his program was to ascertain whether the puzzle could be solved, not provide a remotely practical solution. 

 

There are other guides (some complete with video) on this thread.

 

If you're not starting from the default position, I can also give you step-by-step instructions -- or you can send me by PM a copy of your save file and I'll solve the puzzle for you.  

[Underused pokemon that are very useful for reborn]

I tend to revert to more classically “powerful” mons towards the endgame, but one that’s carried most of my runs – from about Shelly to Ciel – is Meowstic. 
 

First, the Psychic type is really good throughout the game, and Meowstic is fast with a decently powerful stab. 

 

But more specifically, it has (can have) the Ability Prankster – and learns very good support moves to use it: weather, Terrain, dual Screens. Let’s also not forget that it also learns Fake Out, Sucker Punch, and Quick Guard. 
 

I also have fond (if less specific) memories of Ampharos (it’s good and you can get it very early on) and Scrafty (for the bulk and the intimidate). 

[Please Solve My Magic Squares]

I’m a bit late; I hope that you were able to solve this issue and go on with the game.

 

If that’s not the case, I would be happy to give you step by step instructions starting from the configuration you are in (it doesn’t have to be the standard one), or solve it directly on your save file for you. 

PS: the point of sliding puzzles is that you can’t progress completely linearly – to get closer to your goal, you need to disrupt what you already have. The point is to do this in a controlled way, so that you can recover it afterwards. 

 

[Setting Off a Chain Reaction: A Reborn Mono-Nuclear run/story]

Good!

We finally got the dramatic face reveal... but the name didn't ring a bell. I had to look it up...

I didn't know that Uranium was so linked to the Pokemon Ranger storylines... That explains a lot of CURIE's overall skill (except against El, but that was expected; at least they managed to get out).   

The discussion of their motivations was welcome... it seems that they have legitimate reasons to gather the keys. I wonder what happened to them that caused their condition?   

I wonder if your character realizes that it provides them with an insta-win at close-ish quarters... But they're probably too moral to use it.  

Also, now that Brionne speaks, we need more scenes with them! 

 

On 11/4/2022 at 8:29 AM, CURIE said:

  @Aphelli your character is literally just Vero with a different name.

 

Why you little... 

(More seriously, I did not make a distinctive sprite for Gabriel -- mostly because I don't really care -- but it does not mean that Gabriel is similar to Vero either in looks or in personality. But I'm glad there's an AU where he gets to chill in the nightclub because someone else takes care of everything)

[The Odd One Out -- A Reborn Story]

On 11/4/2022 at 8:27 AM, CURIE said:

I'm not gonna waste both our times with a generic "don't give up you can do it" comment

 

I wouldn't consider such a comment a waste of time. I too have a dopamine rush when I get a reply. ;)

Then again, while appreciated, such a comment would be indeed of little practical help regarding the issue I've been discussing.  

 

 

On 11/4/2022 at 8:27 AM, CURIE said:

I know I'm almost a month late here but I've been busy IRL and wanted to get to finishing the next chapter of my own story.

 

No problem! We all have busy real lives and I'm not in a hurry (otherwise, I wouldn't have spent 70 chapters just to get to Subseven). 

 

For the rest (naturally, spoilers to a hypothetical reader who wouldn't have played E19):

 

Spoiler

On 11/4/2022 at 8:27 AM, CURIE said:

that line you mentioned from the early game, about apparently the train bombing not stopping people from leaving the region, somehow.  That's actually the first I've heard of it, since I never played the neo-early game, and it kind of messes with some of the events of my own story.  My solution?  I'll just ignore it!  I'm keeping it the way it was before!  That train station is the only (viable) way in and out of the region because I say so!

 

Of course I wasn't going to let a throw-away line like that get in the way of the story. I included it for the joke, along the lines of: "look, the game negates my premise in the first minutes! Why didn't I realize that it would go on doing that?" 

 

On 11/4/2022 at 8:27 AM, CURIE said:

So your main problem is that in actual Reborn cannon, Lin is "god" and that screws up the story you've been trying to tell.  But you seem to misunderstand something:  At the end of the day, no fictional character in any work of fiction is truly "god", the author is. You could change literally anything about Reborn cannon, and who would stop you?  I've done that a lot already in my own story, and there's gonna be more of it in the future. 

If Lin being literally impossible to beat is a problem for the story you wanted to tell, then just make her not literally impossible to beat.  It's already implied in the game there are some things she cannot do, maybe expand on that and have the characters come up with a way to beat her.  Or just invent a weakness.  Or just change what Lin's powers even are in the first place.

 

Yes... and no. It's a bit difficult to express what I mean by that. I think the idea is that the world must stand on its own. If I -- the writer, instead of the characters -- make the calls, the story collapses into nonsense. All I can do to keep Gabriel's plot armor is keep providing better fish to fry to the villain, subtly fudge save rolls, or give good reasons for the cavalry to come; if I go further than that, the point is lost. 

The same goes for any other story goal.

If there's an omnipotent Lin, she has to be similarly free to act on her own (lest I go completely against character) -- and none of the above solutions work. It's not that Lin is completely unstoppable; it's that there is no practical way to stop her. Or, more precisely: the two options I know of (maybe Anna route has a third one? I should play that) require information almost no character has any reason to believe exists.  

Changing canon is, of course, a possibility (which I've already done, in small and less-small ways here and there), but it doesn't come for free. 

1. Without Lin (which implies the suppression of Terra for obvious reasons), the Meteor story starting from the Circus stops making sense. The sleep spell on Agate, the takeover of Labradorra, the blockade of Ametrine, even the Pulse Abra in Spinel Town, do not contribute to further any of Team Meteor's aims. The only reason why they exist is for Lin to set up her Big Epic To End All Epics. 
2. This leaves Meteor free to enact far more damaging plans (which I haven't researched) and also leaves much room for everyone else to react. That's a big tree of possibilities, and I'm not entirely sure how to go about picking a good path.
3. Inventing a weakness to Lin doesn't make much sense on its own (although I guess I technically already did), and is potential for a huge plot hole: how is one supposed to figure out what her weakness actually is? It's not like Lin would advertise it (or even know of it). Then again, maybe she would. 
4. Curbing her powers or changing their nature is something I'm exploring, but it's still sensitive to points 1 and 2, hence isn't straightforward. 

 

On 11/4/2022 at 8:27 AM, CURIE said:

Obviously I started my story long after you did, but it was still before episode 19 came out (it might have been in beta at that time actually, but I didn't play the beta so that doesn't matter).  I didn't know how cannon Reborn would end, but I had some ideas for how my story's end/postgame would be.  Then I episode 19 came out and I played through its end/postgame content, and while I found stuff that I could mold to fit my already-conceived plans, there was also stuff that I just couldn't or didn't want to use.  I just threw that stuff out- well actually I guess I'm gonna throw that stuff out, if/when I ever get that far.  And I'll either replace those things with stuff I came up with myself, or skip them entirely.  I can't go into specifics for obvious reasons.  I'll admit though, this was probably easier for me because I saw the "Lin is omnipotent" plot twist coming from fourteen million miles away.  It was kind of obvious to be honest...

 

I'm terrible at predicting plot twists. In this case, it was probably compounded by the fact that I was still thinking that the game's "theme" (?) wouldn't change too much from what I had inferred from the earlier parts of the game. If the deviation had been more minor, this is how I would have proceeded as well. But the scope of necessary modifications is now, I think, much wider. 

I guess the relevant comparison would be... suppose I wrote a fanfiction about a detective story so far. All very logical, very "fair whudunnit" so far, but I don't know how it ends. If it turns out "there are literal wizards and one of them did it", then obviously, unless I want to follow suit, I need to change stuff more - with the necessary ripples - than if the end follows the implicit "code" of the beginning. 

 

 

[The Odd One Out -- A Reborn Story]

Hello ! I hope you're all doing well. 

 

Today, The Odd One Out turns three years old. Happy birthday, and thank you for your continued interest!

 

Three years of writing… I never expected the fic to grow so much, or actually to last so long. I have a bit of a commitment issue for some works, so I tried to stick to it more carefully than before, and that’s how it came out. My pdf for the story so far is about 500 pages long, with some 270,000 words in 71 chapters. To give an idea, that’s apparently between three times 1984 and one half of War and Peace. But obviously, the word count doesn't matter as much as what the words are, and any comparison point I could use for word count is safe in this regard. 

 

I’d like to remain enthusiastic. But I’m heavier-hearted these days with respect to this fic – I have major issues to progress further. The reason is not any kind of real-life difficulty (though it could matter in the future; math is hard), but is really about the story itself.

 

Before I explain a little bit more, I want to make one thing clear. This is not intended to be an “I give up” notice. I’m not the only fanfiction writer who experienced difficulties, kept saying their story was not dead in face of their lack of progress, but did not ever revive it: this is why I’m wary of making an unqualified commitment. But I certainly intend to not leave you hanging, were I to decide that I did not want to go on and that solutions to my conundrum were unsatisfactory. At the very least, I intend to spell it out, and perhaps give a very brief account of what might have otherwise happened.  

 

But I am delaying, and stating worthless intentions instead of explaining where my problems lie. The short version is the obvious one: the final version of Reborn sheds a very different light on the entire game. I expected that I knew enough about the events of the early game to twist them in full understanding. That, whatever revelations E19 had in store, surely they couldn’t be so earth-shaking that the plan would need a major revision. 

How very wrong I was.

 

One of the first lines of the game is now that people will still be able to leave if they want to. I jokingly commented that this was not an encouraging start as far as TOOO was concerned. But it was – indeed – just the start. 

 

Having followed the story up to this point, you deserve a slightly deeper dive into the specifics. This is how I currently feel, about as well as I can say it, but this is not set in stone. Obviously, E19 spoilers abound below – read at your own risk.

 

 

 

Spoiler

 

First, some of the E19 plot arcs make less sense in light of previous events and character interpretations in TOOO: Gabriel is absolutely willing to acknowledge Fern’s contributions, while he can’t take seriously the latter’s repeated verbal abuse, and has sincerely smiled at him at least twice – also, he sure doesn’t expect to solve everything with a battle that he’ll obviously win. Perhaps more embarrassing, Sigmund is milder than in canon (though not harmless by any means).
 

Spoiler

He’s not ECT-ing every child in the facility for so-called therapeutic reasons, and he wouldn’t push Cal’s buttons out of the blue.

But these are minor. 

 

A much more serious issue is that I think I’ve plotted myself into a corner. The following elements seem to strongly constrain any form of “happy ending”.

 

1. Lin is God. She cannot be made to stop. The only way to stop her is to make her want it.
2. If Lin is not stopped, the world gets reset. We can safely call this a Bad Ending.
3. Lin does not care about preventing the Bad Ending.
4. As far as I can tell, Gabriel is a close contrary to Lin and/or Terra, with an outlook they disapprove, despise, or just don’t understand: the trust in institutions and processes (such as, say, the Orphanage), the importance of rules, the value of family, the offer to help out others in the (small) ways he can, the reluctance of conventional heroics, as well as his finding “gremlin acts” childish, selfish and pointlessly annoying (these feelings get exacerbated for deliberate cruelty for its own sake). Also math. To the point where I wonder why she even bothers watching – he’d be so boring!
5. Therefore, one wonders why Lin would want to let him win, or why Terra would agree. Even though I do not know what reason counts as “good” to Lin or Terra.
6. Lin definitely has a soft spot for gratuitous cruelty, and I am not sure what kind of abuse is beyond her. It’s not difficult to me to imagine her pushing Gabriel over the edge without a care. I’m not sure about what lies beyond this edge, but it won’t be pretty, it will be painful to write in a first-person, and I doubt it will even help stop the Bad Ending.
7. Gabriel does not know any of this. As far as he knows, there is one “Min” person in Team Meteor that Saphira curb-stomped and Laura mentioned for some reason. But it’s definitely Solaris calling the shots (and did I mention that Solaris hates and despises him?). As such, he does not have a good reason to not escape the life-threatening conflict as soon as he can (aka when the station is rebuilt) – which leads to a Bad Ending, as per canon.
8. Any reason powerful enough to make him stay must satisfactorily answer the following question: “why me? Why won’t your Elite Four, the paragon Adrienn, and Saphira handle this better than I ever could?”
9. Even if Gabriel was made aware of the higher stakes (as well as the related concept that Lin is God), I’m not sure what would happen. Remember: you can’t beat God unless God wants you to. You know that, I know that, Lin knows that, and Gabriel (when he learns) will know that Lin knows that. So what’s the point of standing up to oppose her? The Grim Lin (the E19M persona) is clearly uninterested in mutually beneficial agreements or any sort of rational discussion anyway. Lin is not interested in rational discussion either, apart possibly to mess further with Gabriel.
10. I want to minimize the number of chapters where the life of someone he strongly cares about (typically, a relative), is dangled in front of him by Lin as a way to keep him “playing”. I do not know if it is in character for her, but Gabriel would definitely be extremely concerned about such an possibility, and this would probably lead towards very dark storylines.
11. The only people that could give Gabriel the relevant information are Terra (just for the sake of completeness), Anna (whom Gabriel regards as slightly insane, and I suspect that she doesn’t actually understand what kind of “hero” he is), Shade (whom Gabriel will probably flee, given what they tried to do last time they met), and Lin, who is perhaps the most interesting possibility. It’s unlikely Lin could be genuine enough to not speak as the Grim Lin, but Gabriel would balk anyway at involving himself deeper unless he was absolutely sure what is was about. I’m not sure what the Grim Lin could do apart from becoming a joke or involving the previous point.  

 

This is, of course, without delving too much into what other groups with at least limited agency can do. Apart from Lin, Gabriel has angered every Meteor higher-up, and it is unrealistic that no one seek revenge at all – a revenge that would not take the form of a civilized battle. The plans for Agate, Ametrine and Labradorra are still in motion (although none of them seems to serve any kind of purpose). While she is far away and not taken completely seriously by people around her, I do not think Anna will gladly let her (alleged) pawn do as he likes.  

 

But I think that my problems lies, in a way, deeper than this. In a previous version of this text, I wanted to talk at length about Rules (sorry for the capital letter – but how fitting!). Fictional universes are determined by their workings, what kind of consequences are assigned to what actions, how people view these actions and what consequences they expect, how they believe other people will react. As I may have discussed previously, standard fantasy attitudes get you famed and immortalized in LotR, but betrayed and hopefully only killed in GoT, or met with a more interesting (but no less fatal) end in the Discworld. Will, righteousness and the power of love (or of friendship) can help you in a superhero story – unless you get punished because the universe’s creator decides that none of this supplies the necessary skill, strategy or resources to overcome the enemy.

 

A part of me thinks that, in this story’s Rules (which are certainly not more valid than any other set), Lin would be rather different – and not in a good way.

 

I tried to keep a certain realism check so far (within limits due to Pokemon basic lore that I did not want to overthink – and plot armor as well).

 

Spoiler

Meteor is so violent because no terrorist group rose to power by any other reason – and remember where their recruits mostly come from. Cain gets pummeled because that is the best outcome you can hope for when you annoy members of a similar kind of gang as a prisoner without any kind of value. Saphira sends Gabriel away because she’s seen far too much ugliness to believe that the nameless stranger who repeatedly finds himself in interesting situations and consistently survives unscathed is just a lucky guy. Gabriel balks at involving himself in the various PULSE situations because they’re war weapons and it’s not really conceivable that he’ll be able to do anything except get painfully killed.

 

 

But ultimately, I think it’s not about Rules as much as themes – the kind of story I want to write. So, what is The Odd One Out about? The story started because I thought the plot could be toyed with and because this premise interested me.

 

The story is set in a dying city that does not go gentle into the night, another piece of setting which I thought was worth exploring. I wanted to think about what kind of place remained after what Reborn has been through. Deeply dysfunctional politics, an economic slump and their various consequences on people were obvious starters, but I suppose it still remains in the background and my Reborn City is not as “lived in” as in some other examples that I've come across. That’s acceptable; I can’t do everything.

 

Gabriel is not a traditional hero. He has little desire for Pokemon battle, let alone life-or-death fights, for, unlike his “colleagues” from parallel universes, he’s far too aware of how easily he could lose them, and that winning them is not up to him. Because who thinks that there is a sorting algorithm of encounters in their life? That the difficulties they face are commensurate to their abilities?

 

He’s come from a sheltered background, with no experience of this level of hardship. He’s thrown into this struggle without knowing the first thing about the place, with no kind of structure or organization remotely able to address it, leaving people defenseless against the grisly, down-to-earth reality. Yet, he chooses to fight in this war that isn’t his. Because it’s right, because it’s useful, and because it would be wrong (and frowned upon) not to. 

 

He fights in his way, because he’s more comfortable with it, because it’s less risky and he’s a bit of a coward, because, as I’ve said, he’s not overconfident enough to disbelieve in defeat (and he realistically should have lost more already), and sometimes because he thinks it’ll be more helpful. And other times he won’t fight because he thinks it’s not the way or it is not his fight.

 

Here’s the important thing: he chooses. He chooses whether to fight, he chooses how, and his actions have meaningful consequences – for which he’s partially responsible.

 

Other people too make meaningful choices.

Spoiler

Cain chose to go against Reborn’s law to help out Heather. Noel chose to lie about Sigmund because he hoped it would hasten Anna’s freedom. Sigmund chose to involve Team Meteor. Saphira chose to put herself through hell hoping to become strong enough to protect her sisters from the big, bad world out there.

This concept is not even really specific to the story: for instance, the canonical Ace, Luna and Terra made choices that shaped their lives and the rest of the world (in minor or major ways), albeit long ago.  

 

Perhaps the philosophy is just – sure, you’re in the losing side of a brutal war, but all is not lost. It will be difficult, it will be painful, it will look hopeless and you’ll have to be lucky – but it can be won if you go the right way about it. That means goals, priorities, sensible actions, and not falling into every trap. And, of course, sufficiently insane plot armor luck.

 

These themes, this angle, seemed to me a good fit for Reborn when I first saw the game. Sure, there were Terra and Lin who were weird, but they were so far ahead, there would be perfectly sensible explanations coming.

 

 

Enter “Lin as God” – which is certainly a mostly sensible explanation for the game plot, especially given the E19 changes to early game.

 

Gabriel is then no more the boy who must fight to earn a future he lost when entering Reborn (“and my interest aligns with the city’s, so I don’t have to be self-sacrificial, thank goodness”), who has to keep his mind on this goal and plan so that he doesn’t need to survive beating all of Team Meteor in a Pokemon battle. Now he is to play a ridiculous part in a deadly farce – the tragedy of an retired bookkeeper when money loses half its value overnight, or perhaps of the scientist who witnesses a literal curse slay his family.

 

“Lin as God” means that reality, since it is only bound to the inconsistent whim of a (at least slightly) sociopathic teenager, is utterly disconnected from the characters’ choices and actions. The time and energy to investigate what is, so as to better understand what to do? Plans? Strategy? Trade-offs? The taboo dilemmas of war? Even the soul-burning effort to grow stronger so as to keep one’s family safe? None of these matters. Whatever you work to achieve, whatever you endeavor to protect more than everything else, Lin makes it real, or Lin makes it not.

 

 

I'd like to reiterate: this is not a rant. Lin is a well-made character, an important component of the game and one of the key parts of its originality. And there’s lots of Lin-based story material… I just wish my angle was in it.

 

I don’t want to have spent over a hundred chapters torturing Gabriel for something he could do nothing about in the first place. Even assuming he gets out alive and wholesome, the pain, his and the other characters’, must have had a point beyond “help Lin realize she maybe should use her power more responsibly and perhaps ditch it to go back to the real world” (and “entertain us”, I suppose).

 

That’s ironic, isn’t it? In a way, I expected Gabriel to break the endgame by being unexpectedly effective – though simply not rushing into both Devons and the Labradorra tournament would already go a long way. And now the endgame did things that I haven’t expected and may well break him.

 

 

However, the situation for the story is not as bleak as this piece may suggest. I could manage to pinpoint more precisely what in canon disturbs me (as far as its consequences for the fic are concerned) and avoid it. My feelings on the role of Lin may well change. I may grow more comfortable with the idea of her dangling over Gabriel someone’s life to keep him playing. Aya’s kidnapping might be enough to keep Gabriel in Reborn. I may figure out more ways towards a “happy ending”, or at least that avoid the darker plotlines. Perhaps in a more far-reaching way, I could also change some Lin lore.

 

 

None of this is going to be easy, and that is the final point I wanted to talk about. I’ve spent the last three years, 270k words, and many hours of thought on this story and giving up on it would be a crying shame. But it also has set me in my ways; I’ve been working on the small picture, trusting that the big picture would hold up when I needed it. Now, all the above suggests I need a new big picture. And I’m not quite sure how to get it – as much as possible, without betraying too much the masterpiece that this game is.

 

Great chess players can visualize the board, compute or otherwise feel consequences of their actions, perhaps ten to fifteen moves in advance. In my case, I can only see one move at a time. How it impacts everyone else, how they react, and all the consequences of these reactions – I can’t easily see them all. The tree of possibilities is huge, and so few branches, I fear, lead to any sort of happy ending – and how can I distinguish them? How do they manage, the fanfic writers who make compelling plots from the pieces of dynamited canons and their original takes?

 

I don’t know. But I want to find out.

I'll try to tell you either way.

 

[Magic Squares]

The control panels and various other documents in the room tell you what kind of final state you need to achieve and how to move the squares. A short-ish solution (once you know how to control the squares) is here.

[Timburr Puzzle Strategy guide (4X4 Rotation)]

The solution below assumes that clicking on a tile makes it rotate counter-clockwise, as well as every tile that shares a side with said tile. If all the rotations are instead clock-wise, replace the ones with threes. If the rotations are not the same for the tile and the adjacent tiles – just tell me and I’ll try to figure something else out. Same if more tiles get rotated (for instance, the top left tile also rotates the top-left “center tile”). 

 

Spoiler

1020

0001

0000

0001

 

Just checking – you do know that what you just did goes against a few points of internet etiquette, right? 

[Timburr Puzzle Strategy guide (4X4 Rotation)]

These numbers indicate the number of times you should rotate the tiles of the picture, based on their position. For instance, the top-left corner should be rotated twice, the tile immediately right should be rotated three times, the next one, only once, etc. 

[Setting Off a Chain Reaction: A Reborn Mono-Nuclear run/story]

Wow, I really wish I hadn't taken so long to get up to speed on this. It's well-made, entertaining, and full of good ideas!

While I know very little about Pokemon Uranium, I've enjoyed all Ranger games a lot (the first one was not that hard because I had a guide, but a lot of the bosses would have been incredibly tough without the right Pokemon, which the guide told me about) and I'm glad that they're given some love! It's great to see the Styler in action, it's a great tool! 

I think I know who Isaac is... but I don't know who CURIE is. There are a few clues, but I'm not sure who they're pointing towards (because our lead is not an all-loving hero... they're secretive and somewhat self-serving, but only in a limited way). I think I can make a guess as to the endgame, but I'm not saying it out loud: it'll be embarrassing if I get it wrong, and worse if I somehow get it right. 

 

Keep up with the good work! 

 

PS: I'm not sure where you're at, but if you haven't, do play (or watch) E19. It's definitely worth it, and may shed light on part of the game's plot. But given you mentioned Euphie, it's probably moot.

[Pokemon Reborn E19 Hall of Fame - show off your game-winning team! (Now with tier list)]

I'm glad to post in this thread -- glad to have beaten the League (Lin route, Samson, shift mode). I went in basically blind, and save-scumming -- and I got out. Somehow. 

My team was: 

 

Tenor (Primarina)

Spoiler

He was mostly useless for the E4, except as a sack. But he was very useful against both Lins (though perhaps more if I hadn't been blind and updated my team more after my defeats), with a clutch Moonblast crit against Clefable and a few interesting Encores. 

 

Maeve (Weavile)

Spoiler

Probably the team's MVP, all in all. She's fast, strong, and deadly with Scarf. She tore through Heather, did her chunk against B&L, destroyed El's dragons... you get the point. 

 

Conina (Mienshao)

Spoiler

Not as useful as I expected. But she has great coverage and got a few interesting kills with and without Scarfs (El's mega, notably).

 

Shear (Pinsir-M)

Spoiler

The team's Mega. I don't think he was extraordinary, but he pitched in. 

 

Xor (Haxorus)

Spoiler

The Lin 1 Dragon Dancer (if only I had Dragon Claw instead of Outrage, I'd probably have managed to sweep her). It pitched in at various points, typically helping kill Anna's fairies and cleaning up B&L, surviving (some) Arceus Judgements to give me time. 

 

Harry (Delphox)

Spoiler

Handled a few things here and there (rather suboptimally for some, but never mind). Nidoking, Heat Wave for B&L, Kommo-o, M-Metagross and maybe Jirachi. Also, for some reason, the Arc-PULSE Toxic-setter.

 

 All in all, I think I'd keep Weavile and Primarina for sure if I re-did this, but I would need to think some more about the others. 

[The Odd One Out -- A Reborn Story]

I agree that Saphira has had a difficult life story -- and did terrible things to herself. And I don't think that it's over, not by a long shot. 

I had expected you to point "Liz" out as well, but it was such a small shout-out anyway. 

 

Anyway, no more delaying. Build-up time is over. This is the real deal -- or so I hope -- it is massive (much longer than the previous chapter) and it is not going to be peaceful. The violence warnings on the previous chapters still apply. 

 

After that, I'm taking a break, I don't know for how long. I haven't been able to think enough about what happens next. I need to use the endgame (and maybe postgame) story elements to decide what happens now, while I'm barely done with E16 material in my E19 save (although I believe I know most of E18 lore).  I certainly have a few ideas, but I need to flesh them out more, and see if they keep making sense, and if I want to write the story in this direction. 

 

In the meantime, I guess that you can search the math problem of Chapter 16 think about this last chain of events. A lot of things aren't quite spelled out, don't you think? What really happened? Who knows what? Is Chekhov's magazine (to extend the metaphor) empty? These are riddles that you may want to ponder in the near future.  

 

Without further ado... enjoy! (hopefully)

 

 

Chapter 71: Deep Lunacy

 

Spoiler

Bennett led me confidently through the maze, with his Dustox in rear-guard to make sure that I wasn’t attempting to get the better of him – something which would have been difficult to achieve in so unfavorable a situation in any case. He met a couple of people in theoretically white robes, with various degrees of cleanliness, one of whom made an untoward comment at both of us, which we ignored.

 

Bennett stopped in front of the door, glancing nervously left and right, his fist raised, but unwilling to knock.

 

“Are you really sure? I don’t think he likes you very much.” Bennett told me in a lower voice.

“He wouldn’t be the first one here.” I shrugged. “But I think we can agree on some things.”

“As you wish,” Bennett replied somberly, and knocked.

“Come in!” the priest’s voice, inside, already sounded quite unwelcoming.

 

Bennett pressed the handle, slightly pushing the door inside, and motioned to me.

 

“You asked for it,” he said softly, as he slipped away.

 

El’s room was more a study. The walls on my left and in front of me were covered in books, most of them perused and pertaining to religion, or history, many of them old and yellowing, ready to get parted from a few of their leaves. Near the corner between two bookshelves stood a medium-large dark wooden desk. Two heavy wooden cupboards stood against the wall behind me, separated by the door I had entered through. There was another smaller rectangular table, with three seats, on my right. A short corridor in the back of the room seemed to lead towards spiral stairs to the right, which slightly sped up my heart – the exit could be so close already!           

 

“What,” El asked in an outraged tone, standing from his desk, “is the meaning of this?”

 

He was glaring at me in a long cloak of pale gold, his grave face covered in a faded white miter.

 

“How did you come here?” he snapped.

 

Everything in me – my education, my awareness of being the intruder in this room, my fear of the other man’s presence and irritation, the stern authority of the priest’s ceremonial clothing – advocated for bowing my head and confessing my sins. But I didn’t. I had come here to talk, and El was being charitable enough to not insist on his already sour welcome.

                                                                                                                                    

“I talked Bennett into sending me here.” I replied levelly. “I wanted to ask” – I forced myself to stare at El’s very light blue eyes, and keep going without taking so much as a visible breath – “why I am being held prisoner here.”

 

“Do you not see?” El sighed, sadness and resignation written on his face. “Is it possible that a soul so gentle as yours was twisted so utterly by this demon that you have only known for a few hours?”

 

“What are you talking about?” I questioned uneasily.

 

I didn’t have a gentle soul. I had a shapeless one.

 

“How is it possible that,” El asked in a sadder, softer tone, “after listening to my plight, you decided to side against me?”

 

“I didn’t side against you.” I protested. “I think I made my position quite clear.”

“Yes, you have.” El confirmed. “Not content with turning your back on me, you turned a blind eye when the swine attempted to take over my mind.”

“The latter is true.” I admitted, bowing my head in shame. “I didn’t support him, but I didn’t fight him for what he did to you. But the former is wrong. You drew us in this temple for no reason, and I didn’t support Radomus attacking you. Whatever I did, whether I even was there or not, he could have attacked at any other time.”

 

And, I carefully didn’t add for the sake of diplomacy, he hadn’t been particularly helpful either when I had tried to ascertain the truth.

With good reason, since he had had a Ditto, for Arceus’s sake!

A Ditto, and we had all bought its act.

 

“Which is why you made certain to force his hand,” El accused me. “You gave him the choice of when to strike. You handed him a temporary victory, because you were too afraid of fighting him.”

“You are your Ditto would still have been exposed,” I retorted, carefully avoiding the part of his answer that had hit just a little too close, “and you would have lost anyway.”

“And yet do I look like I lost?” El’s replied, more serenely confident than ever. “In His Holy temple, where I begged for the strength to free my daughter…”

 

In the temple? He barely had a word for Luna, I remembered. For his Lord, the world and Radomus, sure. But not Luna. 

 

If I remembered correctly. If my mind hadn’t been altered.

 

Damn Radomus. His temporary takeover of El’s mind had opened up so many different nasty interpretations for every memory, every recollection, making reality almost out of reach…

 

“He sent me at the hands of my Enemy, only so that I could turn the tables on him, and smite him down by the Lord’s power and His command. He brought my daughter back to me.”

“What have you done?” I asked, slightly alarmed by the martial tone that El was opting for.

“The Lord forbids me or my brethren to kill the swine named Radomus,” El replied, “but neither does He expect that I endeavor to keep him alive. Suffice to say that the world will be rid of his filth in the next few hours. And as for my daughter,” El added, softer and sadder again, almost regretful, “she has been greatly spoiled and defiled by the darkness – and it will take all of the Lord’s power to cleanse her soul anew.”

 

I just stared at him, aghast, as the horror of the situation started to sink in. There wasn’t even a right choice, was there? It was just the conflict of two evil men for a girl, one a horrific predator for minds masquerading as a chessmaster, and the other one an hypocritical fanatic clinging to antique ideals by twisting the sayings of a holy book.

 

And there was nothing I could do.

 

“This is why you, and your… friend,” he added with disgust, “will be staying here for another half hour, until this is done.”

 

“This is mad…” was all the reply I could muster. “If you hadn’t taken either of us, assuming that we would want to, we wouldn’t even be here to disrupt anything you did!”

“I find it very reasonable instead,” El replied, “for it is said that the Lord struck with folly the wisdom of men. The wisdom of the Lord is folly to the eye of men.”

 

This confirmed my idea. There was no possible discussion with El, except on his terms – on which, of course, he was guaranteed to come out on top. But there was a card that I could perhaps use to my profit.  

 

“But is it not written that the Lord forbids one to steal?” I argued.  

“Such is His law, in very deed.” El agreed.  

“Still, you are keeping from me my bag and my Pokemon.” I insisted, trying to avoid thinking of the many precedents that could be used to argue against me.

“Did the Lord not reward His people with the riches of their slave-drivers, after He smote the flesh of their flesh and the blood of their blood?”

 

I winced as I recognized the reference – and it had indeed come to the foremost of my mind as the example that could be used against me.

 

“You would compare me with them?” I questioned, trying to sound more like a martyr than an orator. “They were a powerful nation, filled with malice and envy, fatted by the sweat, tears and blood of their slaves. I am a wanderer, poor and homeless, who didn’t so much as raise his voice against you, in spite of your claims, and I merely ask for what little I own in this city.”

 

“Perhaps it is true indeed,” El gently acknowledged.

 

It didn’t sound right at all. I had expected an uphill battle of hypocritical rhetorics that I barely hoped to win – this being far from my forte, while my opponent would be in his element. That the fanatical priest could concede this point was ominous. But he was indeed walking towards one of his locked cupboards, inserted a small key, and opened it.

 

“You may have it.” El showed me.

 

Who was this man? Fanatical and absurd one time, gentle and understanding the next one?

And what of the Ditto, of his thugs? Although he would certainly dismiss – or rather praise to the skies – the latter as ‘soldiers of God’ that he had recruited for his crusade.

 

But what could be the trap? The harm in taking my belongings back?

 

“Take it,” El repeated.

 

Slowly, carefully, not daring to trust the too comfortable surge of relief flooding my brain, I took the bag by its handle, and put the Pokeballs on my belt, giving to my waist a certain added weight, which was both uncomfortable and more comforting. The bag felt normal – as absurdly heavy as I remembered. It was certainly fortunate that I couldn’t have fit a bike in it.

 

“I would like to warn you however,” El said in a very soft, but very serious tone. “I am giving this to you because I realize that I have deceived you one time too many, and that I desire your trust back. But do not mistake this desire to make amends for weakness. Try to use my gift against me, and I shall be merciless. Were you now a far better Trainer than the one I saw challenging Bennett a week ago, you would remain far beneath the guards of this temple.”

 

How does one get out of trouble?

One step at a time.  

 

“What about Cain?” I asked again, trying to ignore how unlikely this was to succeed.

“Agreed.” El rummaged through the cupboard. “Consider it an additional token of goodwill.”

 

 

*

 

 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Arclight grunted. “This sucks worse than Blacksteam, and that’s saying something.”

“You want out, just say so.” Saphira shrugged. “You’ve earned it.”

“I’m not speaking about that!” the DJ protested. “I’m speaking about bringing Gossip Gardevoir underground of all peop – beings! Spilling the beans is what she does!”

“Do not worry,” the Gardevoir chuckled, “I will happily keep this secret if it means that I can save my Master.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think you’re actually capable to do that,” Arclight pointed out. “Is there actually anything you know that you haven’t broadcast live yet?”

“Well, I know of a number of objectionable and shadowy dealings by upstanding members of the Reborn League. Starting for instance with your friend,” Gardevoir replied lightly as she ignored Saphira glaring daggers at them. “But because I am able to keep secrets, I will not tell you,” she chuckled on.

“Fine.” Arclight relented half-heartedly, frustrated at not learning more about Saphira’s relationship with the city’s underworld. “But this is still completely nuts! We know even less than for Blacksteam, and we’re going to challenge whoever is in charge of that place and escape with everything they have? Seriously?”

“You want out, I won’t mind.” Saphira repeated. “But it’s two Leaders we’re talking about, and I’m not leaving them. Do you know how hard it is to have them replaced?”

 

Arclight pondered this for a moment. He had no particular fondness for Radomus – the man wouldn’t let him speak to the public of his battle style as a Leader unless he managed to win a chess game, something which, in spite of various advantages handed to him, Arclight had never managed to do. Luna was a slightly different story.

 

It didn’t make sense. He knew he was missing something. But he could hardly stay idle while two Leaders were kidnapped.

 

“And how come you got involved in any of this?” he had to ask Gossip Gardevoir.

“I was at my wits’ end to try and rescue my Master and Luna,” Gardevoir replied dramatically. “Because they had been taken someplace where I, a weak Gardevoir, could not rescue them. Then, I noticed Saphira’s arrival to Reborn City. Imagine my surprise! And my relief! But when she told me that she had more urgent business to take care of – picture my dismay! But she agreed to a deal – I helped her with her issues, and she would help me with mine. I have fulfilled my part.”

 

It was as good a story as any, Arclight thought. He nodded.

 

“Great. By the way, Gardevoir,” Saphira asked, “what did you do to him?” she nodded at Corin. “We may need him.”

 

 

 

*

 

 

A deeply apologetic El summoned two guards in white robes to guide me upstairs, in a far wider room with a ceiling at least four meters tall, supported by regularly spaced stone arches. It still had no windows, leaving me to assume that we were still underground, but three huge, intricate glass chandeliers were flooding the room with bright electric light.

 

A massive stone altar, perhaps eighty centimeters tall, sized as a one-person bed, stood on an elevated platform about three quarters of the way towards the end of the room, right underneath one of the chandeliers, and I anxiously noted the metal snap hooks as thick as fingers tied to it. Dozens of indistinct rows of old wooden benches, split in two by a central alley, were facing the length of the altar.

 

This was El’s church, obviously.

 

I found myself facing its exit. It would be easy to break rank and run – reach for the main gate which was no more than thirty or forty meters away. I could make it if I just fooled two guards for a few seconds. As long as the doors weren’t locked. But what would happen then? Would El not give chase outside? Would his outrage at the betrayal of his trust ever stop?

 

No. With such guards as he had, I believed El to be anything but harmless, and his terms had been clear. I couldn’t exclude either that he would retaliate against Cain. No, steeling myself and honoring the informal deal – by staying and not interfering – was the best course.  

 

There were a few rows of seats on either side of the altar, mostly hidden from the entrance by a stone wall with only a grid pattern to see through. I was led towards a seat facing directly the altar, on the left. El visibly trusted me as much as I trusted him, as his two hooded minions didn’t leave my side. They remained standing.

 

“Two of you for me?” I asked, a bit at random. “Isn’t this a bit much?”

“So is His Grace’s desire,” one of my guides answered. “It would be wiser to not defy it,” he added, the threat obvious.

“Isn’t it a bit excessive?” I questioned, a bit shily.

“It is a world of evil which we live in,” the other spoke in a passionate voice, “and His Grace believes that the sight of purity helps one remember their heart’s desire for the Lord’s light.”

 

In other words, people not under his spiritual authority bended more easily to El’s will when he reminded them more constantly of the physical threat they were under. Nothing particularly new or insightful.

 

Nothing to do but watch.

And remember.

 

A few minutes afterwards, four more guards came in from the lower floor, pushing onwards a gagged Cain with his hands behind his back who was bleeding from both eyebrow arches. As he came into the larger room, his eyes widened, frantically looking in every direction. He skipped forward uncertainly, then, as the group was nearing the altar from the side opposite mine, he suddenly ducked and sprinted towards the exit as I had considered to do. I got up in surprise – and ashamed excitement for his unrelenting attitude.

 

Unfortunately, the guards weren’t caught unaware. Namely, one of them sent out a Heliolisk whose low-powered Thunderbolt convulsed Cain’s leg muscles, making them unresponsive. The spirited teenager fell headfirst on the stone floor, his handcuffs – that I could only see now – preventing him from controlling his fall. I sat down again, dejected.

 

“We told you what would happen if you tried anything,” one of his guards growled as he stalked towards the slightly stunned Cain, his intent all too clear.

 

Why couldn’t they leave him alone? I thought, sickened at how Cain had been treated. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not unless someone made them. I was the only one there for Cain and I couldn’t do even a single thing as he was once again kicked in the face.

 

Nothing that would stop the beating…

 

No, that wasn’t true. There was something I could do. Something which didn’t have great odds, but at least didn’t carry a similar risk.

 

I took a deep breath.

 

“Stop it!” I got up and shouted at them, disregarding my own guard dogs, a tad too panicked for my taste.

“He was asking for it,” one of his guards looked up from kicking Cain’s ribs.

“No, he wasn’t. You’ve seen what you did to him? Of course he’s going to take every chance to escape.”

“And he knew what would happen if he got caught.”

“You’re supposed to be holy men, aren’t you?” I questioned, looking at their robes. “Do holy men repeatedly gang up on an unarmed victim? Look at what you already did to him! Hasn’t he had enough? Haven’t you had enough? Aren’t you supposed to forgive? To turn the other cheek?”

 

I had said these words because I had to, because there was something I could do, because they were waiting for me to say something once I had spoken up – but I didn’t expect them to actually work.

 

“So you’re telling us what to do, now?” one of them turned his anger towards me.

“I’m just asking.” I replied with a deep breath. “I mean, I don’t recall any part of your book sanctifying, encouraging, or even authorizing this kind of display.”

“No book tells me what to do,” he snarled and started towards me. “Looks like you’re itching to take his place to me.”

 

I felt serene, all of a sudden. I didn’t know what he was about to do to me. I didn’t know if I could take it. I didn’t know if I would even react, try to stand for myself. But at least I had broken the assault on Cain. He was weakly wriggling, trying to bend his stiff legs so as to be able to stand again.

 

“Cut it, Matthias,” one of his associates grabbed his sleeve. “He’s got a point, you know.”

 

‘Matthias’ didn’t look happy at all about this, but his clenched fists relaxed and he let the matter go, to my relief. His accomplices grabbed Cain’s arms and pulled him up like a doll, keeping him upright for the couple of seconds it took for his legs to stand firm again. Then they started pushing him again towards the altar, the Heliolisk watching sullenly the troop’s step.

 

I wasn’t very good with faces. But I didn’t need any skill to guess what was on Cain’s, frustration, pain, revolt, rage, as they brought him towards the altar, then towards my side – except they brought him against a back pillar and they…

 

“You’re chaining him to the wall?” I asked, scandalized, feeling a dreadful cold pervading my body.

“You got a problem with that?” ‘Matthias’ drawled.

“Yes, I do! What do you think you’re achieving?”

“He’s always sticking his fat purple nose in our business. This is one time when he’s not going to do it!”

“Is it what El did to you?” I asked, struck with a sudden idea born out of desperation. “When he made you work for him, did he beat you all up again and again? Did he tie you up to make you obey him?”

 

That got their attention, even Cain’s as he laid bloodied eyes on me. I had to keep it, lest the spell was broken and they finished this barbaric business of theirs.

 

“That’s what El gave you, isn’t it?” I insisted. “I’m guessing he gave you food, he gave you shelter, he gave you purpose, he gave you comrades. And this is how he won you over. Not by beating you over and over. Please,” I pleaded, suddenly uneasy with all the stares I was getting.

 

“Take his cuffs off.” I didn’t know how I found the daring to utter the words, even so in a pleading voice that was so unfamiliar to me. “Guard him if you want. You’re many; he’s one. You have Pokemon; he doesn’t. He’s weary, battered; you’re not. What can you fear from him?”

 

And somehow it did the trick. One of the cult members shook his head, and, instead of chaining Cain’s cuffs to the pillar, and to our great confusion, his co-thugs took them off. Cain uneasily rubbed his hands against his wrists, then tried to wipe the mesh of blood and make-up all over his face, with little success, and they led him towards my seat.

 

“You are right,” the one who had shaken his head told me, as he motioned to Cain to sit farther than me.

 

I saw the teenager glance with obvious purpose at my bag, which was in front of my feet – and therefore in his way – as he hopped over it.  

 

“But, boy,” he insisted, watching Cain threateningly, “you will stay still. One word too high, one gesture too dangerous, and I will kill you myself, for betraying the trust I put in you. You as well,” he added for me, “and you had better be thankful.”

 

I looked in his eyes.

 

“I am.” I assured him.

 

I wasn’t lying. Nothing in the man forced him to behave with anything approaching reason, sanity or decency. Every little bit helped. A semblance of civilization, step by step, just the bare minimum, a Geneva Convention, even with a thuggish foe whose only allegiance was El’s inconsistent word.

 

“And you’re just going to do nothing?” Cain hissed to me as he removed his gag. “You have your bag and Pokemon, now! You could go help Luna! You’re not going to just sit and… watch, are you?”

“I am.” I replied loud. “We wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything.”

“But how can you bear it?” he gritted his teeth. “You know it’s awful and how can you manage to… not do anything?”

“It’s because,” I replied in a low, dreary voice, “I know it’s pointless. If we try anything, not only does the same awful thing happen anyway, but we get hurt too, or killed, and we can’t do anything later. And they extended trust, you see? They took your handcuffs off. If you use it against them, you won’t be able to count on that later.”

“I don’t want their trust,” Cain shouted back in a whisper. Was there the shadow of a tear in his tone? “I hate what they’re doing. I hate their guts. I hate them!”

 

This time, there was no mistaking the tears watering his voice rather than his eyes.

 

 

The room was very slowly starting to fill with more people. First, more and more white robes walked out of the stairs from the lower floors, some of them sitting on benches like ours, either from a distance behind us, or opposite us. Soon, El himself came standing next to the altar, wearing the solemn look of a priest who was going to accomplish their holy service – that of the function that he was occupying. His slow gaze encompassed the whole room equally, not showing any sign of recognition as it swept over us. Bennett came up too, glancing all around him and then choosing a seat most remote from everybody else, in the shade behind the altar. I was half watching all this crowd – a dangerous crowd, I knew – but I was also keeping an eye on Cain who looked very downcast.

 

But there was nothing I could do to make him feel better. We had lost. We had surrendered. We had accepted to abide by their terms – something that he was probably having trouble to accept. We had abandoned Luna. Radomus too, but somehow I couldn’t muster the will to be angry with El after what had been done to him. Barely even to be sad.

 

Then the main doors were opened – so they had not been locked after all – and El’s brethren started to come in, some in white-ish robes of various quality or cleanliness, others in some semblance of decent clothes, others again in what might be the only pieces of clothing they could afford.

 

El’s church was not only a place to pray, I could see: it was also a meeting place, and the flurry of new people brought sound there. Oblivious to how El could treat his forced guests, men and women greeted one another, shook hands, laughed together, exchanged a few words, and then left to catch up with yet other groups. This seemed to be another blow to Cain’s morale, especially as he glared daggers at the two guards who remained watching us.

 

“How can they?” he was repeating in outrage between his clenched teeth, his head still bowed. “How can they?”

 

One of the newcomers, in an immaculate ironed robe and hood, wasn’t interested in the other attendants, and instead lightly climbed the steps to the altar to directly greet El.

 

“I had hoped you would come,” I listened to him say as El put an arm on his visitor’s shoulder. “I am glad to see you today. How is your father?”

“He saw your message,” a faintly familiar voice answered – but in the overall din, I couldn’t figure out if I was merely imagining things – “but as you know, he is very busy these days.”

“Always working, as usual. I suppose this can’t be helped. I am glad that you are here, at any rate.”

“I am glad to be here too,” the other one answered, bowing slightly.

 

Then he climbed down the altar and sat in the first row.

 

As the flow of newcomers slowed down, the room grew slightly warmer, and a strong woody smell started to fill it as light smoke raised from golden-plated disks hanging from the ceiling – incense, of course – while they sat down – men on one side, women on the other – and the small talk slowly merged into a unified sound. A chant started spreading across the room, first from scattered islands of piety or knowledge, or simple love for song, but gaining ground at every repetition, taking over the singers’ neighbors, and also encouraging people not surrounded by singers to try their own voice, joining at their own pace and with their own comfort.

 

Regardless, the power of this simple song, with a very recognizable air and its simple rhythm, seemed to draw everyone in, sharing for once the same voice of harmony – not quite to the point of being able to decipher the lyrics, naturally. And the atmosphere of the room changed subtly. It was not any more a wide meeting place with a creepy altar in its cold and empty middle. It was the room of a brethren united by faith under a guide – although El wasn’t singing himself, delegating this to a properly-clad subordinate with the voice of an opera singer. Perhaps he had been one before the city came to its current end. It was the room of a people believing in the holy word of a savior that would redeem them, help them rise above the crudeness of life as they had to live it – day to day, ever compromising for survival with the ugliness of necessity.

 

Cain, needless to say, was watching the choir and the song leader with a mixture of disgust and despondency.

 

Then El started praying in a slow, powerful voice that carried over to the entire room and focused the reverent attention of everyone else. He was chanting with passion in an ancient language whose meaning he might have been the only one to know, but the audience – who religiously listened to its guide’s words in an otherwise respectful silence – knew its cue and the words it was supposed to say in unison. The priest wasn’t completely alone most of the time either – regularly, one of his group would sing along him for some thirty seconds before stopping.  

 

Then, with a slight release in the etiquette – there were coughs, whispers, children moving through alleyways, and two of El’s robed henchmen leaving the platform for the inner quarters where we had come from, Cain and I – five members of the assistance, in rather proper clothes, climbed up the few steps and stopped in front of the altar.

 

O Lord; open my mouth and my voice shall proclaim Your praise, El enunciated as the silence came down again, drawing everyone else to repeat the sentence, and then the five individuals started praying in imperfect synchronization, but with the rest of the room’s attention focused on them. Again, while they were speaking alone most of the time, at times, they would slow down and start singing with the entire cult following suit.

 

It lasted for an insufferable number of seconds before the last chant, slow and stern, came to an end, just at the moment the pair of aides came back with Luna.

 

“Blessed be the Lord and His Reign for the centuries’ centuries, for the old world and the new one,” El articulated, and the room repeated.

 

But Luna was unrecognizable. Clad in a pristine white robe, with a tight headscarf of the same color covering her hair, she was following the others with her eyes fixated on the floor. Gone were the desire and commitment to help a kidnapped friend, no matter the cost to herself; gone was her being a maid – whether it was a game, a compulsion, or anything in between. Gone was the life in her, no matter how strangely it expressed itself – she looked like a blank automaton.

 

“What has he done to her?” Cain whispered to me, disgusted.

“I don’t know…” I muttered, horrified.

 

How could he bear this look on her face? This way of being, or perhaps more accurately, of non-being?

 

In the surrounding silence, Luna walked slowly closer to the altar, and, at El’s discreet hand gesture, sat on it.

 

“Brethren. My friends,” El started dramatically. “Surely you can remember that nearly a year ago, my family was struck with a terrible bane, an atrocious blow of the kind that destroys households forever. You remember that my daughter, Luna, had been kidnapped.”

 

He stood silent for a few seconds, as if to appreciate his effect. The entire room – everyone, not only his enforcers – seemed to be holding its breath to better listen to him, hanging onto his every word.

 

“I have found out that a demoniac being, the vile Radomus Vanhanen, had broken into her mind and rewritten it,” he resumed with hatred in his voice, as a gasp of shocked outrage seemed to run through the crowd. “He made her forget that she was my daughter. He turned her respect for the Lord, His cult and His Sanctity into blasphemous heresy! Her purity, into shameless immodesty! She was the apple of my eye, and he turned her into an abomination to the eyes of the Lord.”

 

“It was only today that I managed to reclaim her, but at what cost?” the loud, outraged hostility turned to a softer-voiced sadness, and the room focused again on him. “The fiend had turned her so thoroughly against me that I was forced to compel her obedience. Although I finally defeated him, he hid her true self deep inside her mind, and I do not know if I will be able to bring back who she really is. Perhaps her blemish is irredeemable.”

 

“But I think not,” El added resolutely. “For I believe that the Lord is holy and almighty. I believe that with my faith in Him, with all of your faith, my daughter can be restored. Let the ritual begin.”

 

Bennett sprung out of his chair, handing a Pokeball to his neighbor, as Luna slowly tilted backwards until she lay on her back on the altar, and he bound her wrists and ankles with the chains that the altar had. Meanwhile, several members of El’s brand of clergy went to him, exchanged a few words, and walked away to their seats.  

 

“This guy’s creeping me out,” Cain commented for me, pointing towards Bennett. “He didn’t even ask for her safe word!”

“Maybe not in front of her father?” I suggested.

 

Cain drew away from me.

 

“Not you too! What have they done to you?” he asked, anguished. “First you reply to my jokes. Then you really think he’s her father? That’d be so fucked-up.”

“He believes he is,” I carefully chose my words. “Bennett believes it too. So he wouldn’t ask for a safe word in front of him. Plus, we’re still in a temple.”

“That’s not stopping him,” Cain commented. “Look how he’s staring at her!”

 

Nothing seemed particularly amiss to me, but I didn’t doubt that Cain had had more experience than I had in this domain of human affairs.

 

When the silence came back, El slowly took a small trinket with a fine golden chain from a pocket in his robe and tied it around his neck. He walked closer to the altar, and sent out seven Pokemon: a Wobbuffet, a Solrock, the Heliolisk and the Pyroar that I had already seen, Bennett’s Dustox, a Drampa, and a Chatot.

 

“Wobbuffet, Safeguard,” El ordered in a precise voice.

 

Somehow, the protection was almost tangible, a slightly green veil surrounding El, the altar, and the Pokemon that he had chosen.

 

“O Lord,” El suddenly boomed, his voice sweeping through the room, “God of Earth and Skies, God of our fathers and their forefathers, who made Man to serve and love you, heed your servant!”

 

And the Pokemon started glowing. White fire engulfed the Pyroar; lightning shot up from the Heliolisk and froze in mid-air above Luna; blinding light, as befitted a star (albeit a toy model of one, fortunately not hot enough to melt the Earth), glowed from the Solrock – forcing me to narrow my eyes.

 

“O Creator, who reigns almighty on the old world and the new world,” El added, more puissant, “I beseech you, restore your creature so that she may adore you again!”

 

In normal times, I would have found this ridiculous. Whether or not such a being as El’s Lord existed, it was extremely doubtful that it cared about such a cult, and what was required just shouldn’t have been possible. But now… Nothing of this should have made sense, and yet the powers of the various Pokemon seemed to combine themselves and radiant white light shone from the altar, far brighter than it should have been for any reason.

 

As bright as if El had been burning magnesium underneath, I remembered from a chemistry class in an older, more civilized age… how reckless…

 

El’s voice, somehow even further amplified, started saying words of an ancient language, words that didn’t make any sense and shouldn’t have done anything – and yet they did. Every sound was like a small explosion to which one couldn’t but give their full attention, inexplicably vibrating stone, bone and minds, brightening the light a little each time.

 

The words were heavily enunciated at first, all their weight falling on the scenery and the audience who had to bear them, but El sped up, and the steady intrusive vibration slowly turned into an unbearable thrumming, encompassing and swallowing up all other perceptions – the light, El’s voice and the ambient rumble, the vibration of the very chair I was sitting on, how uncomfortably warm the air seemed to become. Even the smell of incense seemed far more potent.

 

The discharge of the Dustox’s psychic energy – somehow amplified – fell on Luna like thunder, like the sound of a divine arm knocking the sturdiest door in the world down, the sound of an unstoppable blow breaking its lock and ripping it off its hinges.

 

Luna’s scream of agony fell like a cold shower on my dulled consciousness, jerking me upright in indignation before my brain caught up with my body and I stopped myself, because the situation had not changed. I was closer to rescuing Luna from the snake or the madmen – who could tell? – who posed as her father – but I was still powerless. What really was this doing of El’s? How could it be thwarted?

 

Not too unsurprisingly, the knee-jerk reaction Luna’s cry elicited in Cain’s was to get up and walk up towards her, so I grabbed his arm immediately.

 

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “You’re going to get us killed!”

“I’m not going to sit and watch,” he replied. “Let them try it.”

“What are you doing?” Luna screamed, the rattling of chains betraying her attempts to get away freely.

 

I tried to focus again, to ignore El’s renewed ritualistic formulas and the deeply concerning thrumming they seemed to induce in everything and everyone inside the room, to have a rational look upon this manifestly impossible situation, to figure something out…

 

“O Lord, cleanse my daughter from the impurity that was forced upon her!” El thundered, the mere presence of the sound disjointing my thoughts again.

 

Another waterfall of somehow enhanced psychic energy struck Luna, drawing a panicked supplication.

 

“Please, what are you doing? Stop!”

 

Cain got loose from my grip and walked grimly towards the guard that was ferociously eying us.

 

Point One: We’re outgunned and they’ll kill us if we put themselves in their way. Starting with him, I thought resignedly.

 

El suddenly lifted his head, glared all around himself, briefly considered Cain, then me, then turned away from us, to my very partial relief.

 

“The enemies among us,” he shouted, “in the name of the Lord,” he drew a Pokeball, “I shall obliterate them.”

 

Two robed and hooded figures stood in the main alleyway of the temple, apart from everyone else. They nearly got squashed by the first massive punch thrown by El’s huge, unbelievably fast and incensed Slaking. And that was before ten, twenty, thirty other balls were thrown at them.

 

Point Two: whoever they were and whatever they thought they were doing, it wasn’t going to be enough.

 

 

*

 

Spoiler

Gardevoir was alone – almost – in the lower parts of the complex. It had been her choice. Whether they were out of time was not a settled matter yet, so they had had to split up to avoid missing their objectives, disregarding the obviously greater risk.

 

With Corin’s feeble mumbles and Saphira’s insight, they had tried to braimstorm about what El could have done to Radomus, provided that he was still alive. The alternative had been too terrible for her to contemplate. How could she have gone on living in a world which her dear Master had been taken from?

 

Certainly, Luna may have had intelligence with… entities… that made someone’s passing a little more reassuring, but Gardevoir couldn’t imagine bearing the permanent separation from her Master.

 

It had been heartbreaking to hear the suggestions about how El would make sure Radomus wouldn’t escape his fate. There was no telling the kind of agony that her poor Master, if he was still alive – he was! he had to be! – must have endured in the past few hours.

 

The advantage of sending her downstairs was that, of course, that no one cared too much about one more or less figure in a hooded white robe. Even if she seemed to have a little too many good Pokemon in her pockets.

 

El knew he hadn’t caught her – and he knew she wouldn’t stay idle. It made sense that he would carefully protect his quarters against teleportation. Hence her thoroughly mundane method of intrusion. El’s dungeon of sorts had another way in than from the church, and it had been left unguarded for some reason. So Corin had picked the lock – his last contribution to the operation, in exchange of him keeping his brain and six figures’ worth of change – and in she was.

 

She had hoped to be able to use telepathy to locate her Master, but El had been wary of it too, as Saphira and Corin had reasoned. She could feel the dulling of her psychic senses, acuity dissolving into noise at far too close a range, the mental equivalent of a thick fog. This wasn’t easy – but it wasn’t much harder than blocking teleportation, if one knew, as El certainly did, how to go about it. It would have been far too daunting a task for a single Pokemon, no matter how powerful, which was why the old zealot would have set up a network.

 

Now, Gardevoir couldn’t do anything on her own, and she would have had to recruit allies, didn’t she? Allies that would certainly be powerful Trainers, but without much experience with Psychic Pokemon. They would trip up the network. Perhaps destroy it, or jam it, if they were very good – ignorant that, by then, El’s damage would be done.

 

Hence her idea.

 

“Go, little Abra!” she muttered, sending all the Pokeballs out.

 

The baby Abra was sitting on the floor asleep. She felt the surge of power as it reflectively tried to Teleport away, and the blockade struck in action.

 

Offering her, and the flurry of Elite Psychic Pokemon that Saphira had agreed to lend her, the perfect opportunity to infiltrate it. After all, how could Zina’s Pokemon not remember her, or what Radomus had trained them to do, when Anna was a small child and the Orphanage was so accommodating towards discrete private donors?

 

Thirty seconds later, this commando of a new type had dynamited El’s painstakingly crafted telepathic network from the inside, Gardevoir had herself knocked out the thug that El has chosen as dead man’s switch – the dead man being almost certainly her Master – and left a heartfelt personal message to the cult’s leader. Now, she could figure out in a matter of seconds where Radomus was, leaving her comrades-in-arms to deal with whoever was unlucky enough to roam the corridors.

 

She was horrified when she found Radomus in a low-ceiling cell that looked like a torture chamber, with dried blood stains all over it. Her master was in terrible shape. He was in an upright position, in underwear that didn’t belong to him. His left big toe was the only part of his body in contact with a solid place, the table underneath him, while his right leg was red and blue, his knee bent at an unnatural angle. A tight rope was keeping his arms stretched upwards behind his back, at an unnatural position.

 

El had visibly given his prisoner a hopeless alternative. Radomus could give in to the pain, lose his focus, let his foot rest – and the noose that his head rested in would take care of the rest. Or he could try keeping it together until El himself came back to announce him that all his works had been undone, Luna was back under his firm guiding hand, and he had overstayed his welcome in this world.

 

“Gar…” he could only articulate as he saw the look of thunderstruck horror on his Pokemon –a thunder powerful enough to genuinely harm Gardevoir. He hoped she didn’t –

 

The furious Gardevoir telekinetically shoved a knife through the noose that was both threatening and partly supporting him. It meant that the rope tying his arms had drawn them upwards in his back, in a position that definitely didn’t work for human beings, and the chessmaster couldn’t suppress a gasp of exhausted pain.

 

“Master?” Gardevoir fruitlessly asked in anguish, before figuring out El’s nasty trick, and shoving the knife again through the rope, letting finally Radomus collapse on his wounded leg in a helpless heap on the small table that broke under his weight.  

 

Oh, how she hated that priest – she was going to make him pay.

 

But first, she had to save her Master. After so much work today, she had barely enough energy left to Teleport out into one of his many ‘safe houses’ – cheap, small, unremarkable, scattered locations that he had bought throughout the city under a variety of aliases – and come back, but not enough to do the same for Luna – let alone Arclight and Saphira as further passengers. 

 

Her Master first. Saphira and Arclight could handle themselves, couldn’t they?

 

“Thank you, Gardevoir…” Radomus gasped.

 

 

*

 

 

If Saphira hadn’t thrown herself at him, Arclight would have been pulp. He had had trouble to adjust already – Saphira’s serious mode, when she suggested the various ways in which El could have set his security up, and how they could bypass it, had been the most disturbing sight of her that he had witnessed so far – the callous, inhumane practicality even worse to witness than her bouts of heated aggression. And while Gardevoir had told them that the second they could strike would be apparent, he hadn’t been ready enough for what the priest had thrown at them.

 

How was that Slaking so… much?

 

But soon, it was not only the Slaking, but almost thirty Pokemon, all of them dangerous and powerful, focusing on them, all while El was delivering his message to his flock.

 

“Brethren,” he started, “as you can see, the forces of evil have entered this very temple. With the help of the Lord, we shall thwart them and send them back to the hellish void where they belong! Should you want to join in this holy crusade, you are most welcome. Otherwise, please step aside so as to avoid the crossfire.”

 

That little respite gave Saphira time to send five Pokemon out – Naganadel, Haxorus, Dragonite, Charizard, and Flygon – while Arclight more conservatively used a Jolteon, an Exploud, and a Raichu.

 

Arclight and Saphira were outnumbered worse one to three, when counting the Pokemon on the battlefield, and one to eight when counting the Trainers. No easy odds by any means, but not unbeatable ones, especially if El’s tactics were as primitive as they looked like.

 

It made sense, Saphira thought. He’s read a bit about psychic stuff, because he was after Radomus, but he never cared about fighting effectively with so many Pokemon at his disposal. It would have been a lot less possible if half the group could set screens, use Helping Hand, weaken and cripple her mons, letting the others clean up.

 

But there wasn’t time for these considerations. All hell was ready to break loose, but neither El’s clergymen nor the Slaking were attacking.

 

“Hold!” El commanded haughtily, his voice easily echoing throughout the room, even forcing Saphira to stand down from the immediate attack she was about to order.

“Miss Belrose, I can believe that you have already caused me great harm today. But let me tell you this: I do not wish for this battle to happen. You and your acolyte may withdraw unmolested. I beg of you to seize this chance, for it will be your last. Should your unprovoked assault continue, with the Lord’s guidance, I shall smite you down.”

 

Saphira’s answer came in the sound of a loud gong, as her Dragonite threw itself at the old priest and bounced on the Safeguard.

 

 

***

 

“So be it.”

 

Madness. What folly had drawn these people to fight here of all places? Shouldn’t Saphira – the uncontested top Leader in the League – be more sensible? A brawl of such intensity carried a huge risk of collateral damage, or cave-ins. How much structural damage could every one of her moves deal? And even if the thirty-ish opposing Pokemon were no match for her, it still turned the battlefield into utter chaos.

 

Saphira’s sidekick had had a good idea from the start. His Exploud’s Boomburst should have overwhelmed El’s chanting, still loud enough to drown the sound of the conflict. But the unnatural thrumming of stone and body kept going, drowning even the sound of the battle. All it had achieved was provoke El’s Slaking into bringing the Exploud down with one powerful slap, swatting it aside in the seats like a negligible quantity.

 

Saphira’s Haxorus had then taken to contain the alleged Lazy Pokemon – which this one certainly wasn’t – dodging the sledgehammer blows and retaliating with its plentiful power, but its opponent wasn’t as slow as its muscle mass suggested. That particular fight was a stalemate, I believed.

 

What wasn’t a stalemate was… all the rest. Very soon, Saphira’s Pokemon had taken the fight to their enemies, either crushing the seats around them or standing on the edge of the platform, raining all flavors of energy on the dragons and the two Trainers.

 

Saphira’s Dragonite’s game of bowling was effective at disruption, but it also confined the Pokemon in the middle of his enemies, at the heart of every attack that could be thrown at him. And El’s followers weren’t being parsimonious: given their numbers, they had easily twice, or maybe three times as many Pokemon to throw. If a Kingdra came in the way of an empowered Moonblast, did it matter as much as the damage it landed onto the Dragonite?

 

Naganadel was, surprisingly, the first of Saphira’s Pokemon to fall, having made itself the center of attention while its shower of nasty-looking acid caught five Pokemon on the field – triggering its Beast Boost.

 

This only drew Saphira’s other Pokemon to fight harder, nastier. The Charizard and the other guy’s Noivern teamed up to send a dark fog towards the enemy Trainers. An Espeon and a Beeheyem teamed up as an answer, uprooting the chairs and sending them straight at the intruders’ faces. The Raichu’s Focus Blast put a term to that, at the cost of sending a lot of splinters flying in all directions – including the helpless non-combatants on the sides.

 

The Haxorus was the next to fall, as it didn’t manage to evade a Shadow Ball fired in its direction, leaving it defenseless against the Slaking’s crushing physical might, forcing the Dragonite to withdraw from the field to solely focus on this greatest of threats.

 

Overall, it was clear that Saphira couldn’t win the fight. Every minute saw her Pokemon get more and more tired, less precise, less apt at dodging, if no less willing to fight – while she seemed to be willing to use as many Revives as necessary, it required precious seconds of vulnerable motionlessness. And how good would that be, if for every fallen foe, two could take its place?

 

Point Three: if they couldn’t do anything about the situation, I certainly couldn’t either. And it was probably not worth blowing whatever embryo of goodwill I still had with El.

 

“You attacked my Master!” a new, terrifying voice shouted, from the inside of the sanctum, as though to personally prove me wrong. “No one does tha—”

 

A Shedinja sprung out of the wall for a second, shadowy claws piercing the Gossip Gardevoir’s abdomen, before retreating. With a moan of pain, the Gardevoir collapsed on the floor, where it was immediately targeted by a new salvo of fresh and angry Pokemon.

 

It was an unwise move on their part, because they were instantly the targets of a furious Gothitelle, whose first Psychic attack immediately pounded one of them into the ground, then followed with a Shadow Ball as a special present for the insolent Shedinja, before focusing on the next targets.

 

Point Four: if they started attacking the walls, we were going to die messily and for no reason.

 

The squad of Psychic types coming from the back was scarily powerful and effective, but this meant that the odds remained stacked against Saphira, Gossip Gardevoir et al. There were always more enemies to fight, more Pokemon to subdue, more unhealthy attack combinations.

 

Then, perhaps taken aback by the fierceness of the assault, their enemies brought out the big guns, Mega Evolving far too many Pokemon at a time than was sane. A Kangaskhan. A Lopunny. An Audino. A Medicham. A Sceptile. An Abomasnow. A Pinsir. An Altaria. A Blastoise. All of them jumping with bloodthirsty eagerness in the fray, forcing Saphira and the other one to reply in kind, Mega Evolving a Charizard and an Ampharos. The Ampharos’s first attack shattered one of the chandeliers, raining glass shards on their opponents – and Cain and I as well. And meanwhile, the brightest, loudest discharge of psychic power yet struck Luna, drawing from her renewed screams of pain.

 

“Please stop!” she implored. “Please!”

 

This was going to be a bloodbath, I looked dully at the glass embedded in my clothes. My face stung. And there was nothing I could do.

 

“Are you even listening to me?” Cain shouted in my face.

“What do you want?” I answered, a bit guiltily – I had somehow managed to tune him out entirely, obsessed by the battle, my own injuries – and still enthralled by the rhythm of El’s doing.

“We’ve got to do something! I’m not leaving them fight alone!”

“You know you’re not going to be much help, right?” I replied after thinking for a second. “They’re all a lot better than we are. And if you lose, they’ll make you pay.”

“You know I don’t care about that.” Cain replied. “I’m going to help. Give me my Pokemon.”

“Your funeral.” I concluded grimly.

 

I glanced around me – nobody was paying attention. Bennett had left the altar’s side and was trying to harass the squad of Psychic Pokemon. I nervously searched my bag.

 

“Here.” I handed him six Pokeballs.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t think I’m doing you a favor.”

 

And Cain went off to fight, calling a Marowak to deal with – that is, succumb to, after a brave attack – the Abomasnow and a Meowstic to temporarily bolster Saphira’s defenses.

 

Point Five: None of this mattered if El did to Luna – whatever he wanted to do.  

 

And there was no penetrating the Safeguard – if Saphira’s Dragonite had failed, I wasn’t about to succeed. But how could that effect even exist, let alone last for so long? This had to be related with the thrumming, the unnatural power of El’s voice, his presence.

 

And the old temple too! I remembered. Something similar, but less powerful, had happened as well. He hadn’t been physically – or psychically – protected, but he had still seemed so much deeper than everyone else who had sounded so... dull, for a time.

 

Luna screamed again as El’s voice rose to another pitch, somehow drawing another shot of psychic power at every one of his room-shaking words.

 

Luna was screaming.

There was nothing I could do.

She was screaming and you did nothing. 

There was nothing I could have done!

Nothing, really?

Saphira couldn’t break it!

Luna is screaming.

Then don’t attack, moron!

What else is there to do?

 

I felt empty. Scared.

It was nothing less than a declaration of war.

A war that I absolutely could not win.

A war that wouldn’t even be for anything.

A war where I wasn’t even sure that I was in the right. After all, it looked like the war leaders were Saphira and Gossip Gardevoir, two people decidedly not of the highest moral character. Yet El had lied too – and his methods, especially his treatment of Cain, were nothing short of repulsive.

 

Perhaps it was worth a try.

 

I glanced another time around me. No one was paying any attention. I took a Pokeball.

 

“Tech, Light Screen on Luna.”

 

 

*

 

 

Arclight couldn’t believe his eyes. One second, the room was constantly thrumming under the thundering words of the priest hidden in his green bubble, which made his control on the Mega Ampharos extremely precarious, without counting his still-standing Luxray, and the constant assaults on his physical person, requiring constant dodging as well – making the revival of his fainted Pokemon harder and harder. Then again, the Ampharos’s role was just to unsophisticatedly cause a downpour of lightning on any and all enemies, letting Saphira’s rampaging dragons – Charizard, Flygon, Haxorus – to deal with the thus diminished foes.

 

The next second, there was a smaller red half-sphere inside that spot centered on Luna, El’s words had lost all their punch, and the priest looked confused, flailing, unsteady on his legs, without his greenish bubble, and the tired, but just as willing to fight, remnants of the psychic horde started attacking the Pokemon that had helped El – the Dustox, the Heliolisk, the Pyroar, the Solrock, the Chatot, the Drampa.

 

The Slaking roared in fury and finally managed to connect a fist on the Dragonite’s head, immediately fainting Saphira’s ace.

 

Then it savagely jumped directly at Arclight, and only the blow missed his head by a hair’s length.

 

“Ampharos!” he called.

 

This time, the Slaking didn’t bother trying to dodge, defying the attack, daring the lightning strike to hurt it.

 

Just what was with this Pokemon? How could it take everything so easily?

 

The Ampharos’s lightning struck another time, which again failed to deal any visible damage. However, it drew the Slaking away from the Trainer and towards the Pokemon, a big sacrifice saving so little time of Arclight’s life.

 

“Marowak, Will-o-Wisp!” a voice that he didn’t know commanded.

 

The voice belonged to a teenager in dyed purple hair and fishnets of all people, his light swollen face a mix of blue, red bloodstains, and dried black make-up.  

 

“Cain?” Saphira shouted. “Get the hell out of here! This is out of your league!”

“I’m not bai…” he tried to reply, as Saphira’s Mega Charizard tackled him out of the further enraged Slaking’s grasp.

 

Then it got up to face the formidable foe that had felled two of its mightiest allies.

 

“Then don’t hold back.” Saphira snapped, dodging the Mega Abomasnow’s Ice Beam after her Flygon. “It’s war out there.”

 

 

*

 

 

In for a penny…

 

“Meowstic,” I decided, “Light Screen, Reflect for Cain’s team.”

“Gabriel?” Cain shouted through the room. “Any Revives?”

 

I checked quickly through my bag. None of them remained from my ordeal at Pyrous and I hadn’t found any since.

 

“No!” I yelled back.

“Then free Luna!” he called, narrowly eluding a fiery attack.

 

I stared at the weary priest, who was bent over the altar and panting.

 

How would I free her? I didn’t have the keys to her chains, and I didn’t have the Pokemon to break them without risking injuring the girl. Someone had the keys, of course, but I wasn’t going to ask El for them – or any other of his minions.

 

Something seemed to move beside the altar. And El still looked stunned.

 

How could that have happened again? Light Screens didn’t turn red…

 

I went over the altar to investigate, crouching behind it when an explosive Energy Ball tried to get me, letting it wash over the red Light Screen. When I reached the place where I had seen motion, just lay a small folded square of paper – and a ring of keys.

 

Important, it read, in messy capital letters. Flee Elias and his friends. Get Luna out.

 

I tried the keys in the lock. They fit in.

 

One removed, three to go.

 

I was worried that everyone would just focus on me, but it looked like Saphira, Cain and the others were making a very fine distraction. Anyway, Meowstic had surrounded me with another red Light Screen and a Reflect – just in case.

 

I heard the Mega Charizard’s roar of effort as it managed to Flare Blitz into the Slaking and slam it against a wall, making the entire room shake once again – but at least in a more comprehensible way, if more physically threatening.

 

Two.

 

“Thank you,” Luna said, drawing herself up and rubbing her wrists.

“I need to untie your legs.” I mumbled.

“Please do,” she replied with a tone of formal politeness, as though I had offered her some cake to go with her tea.  

 

Where was that lock?

 

I felt firm hands grabbing both of my arms, surrounding my torso.

 

“You treacherous snake,” El shouted in my ears. I hanged on the keys for all I could, even as he shook me and threw me to the ground.

 

“How dare you!” he shouted as he tried to step over my ankle to crush it.

 

But I was faster. I managed to get on my legs again – albeit in an unstable crouch – when he pushed me again lying on the ground, keys digging into my right hand.

 

“I trusted you!” he ranted, incensed.

 

He put his foot on my back, stepping with enough weight as to prevent me from moving.

 

“I should have killed you like the weaseling worm that you really are.”

 

I don’t know how, but a violent squirm got me out of his grip and unbalanced him for the second I needed to get back on my feet. The bad news was that El was standing between the altar and me; to compound the issue, he had drawn a psychoanalytically big knife and looked rabid enough to use it.

 

“Neither you, nor anyone else, will deprive me of my daughter,” he stalked in my direction, his knife steadily advancing on me.

 

I walked backwards, uneasily, hypnotized by the knife aimed at my stomach. But it couldn’t last for long. I would soon be out of space. But how could I go forward when far too few centimeters in front of me stood a big, pointy piece of metal ready and eager to spill my innards on the ground?  

 

Ah. Of course.

 

“Meowstic, the knife!”

 

El looked perplexed for half a second, before he realized with a snarl what I was talking about. He drew his arm forward, all too clearly willing to strike, I jumped backwards – and then the knife left El’s arm and shot up in the wall behind me, too high for either of us to grasp.

 

I rushed back towards the altar, too fast for the old El, no matter his fury, to grab at me.

 

There! I noticed the lock on Luna’s right leg.

 

One turn and two turns and…

Onto the next one.

 

I saw in the corner of my eye another Pokemon sent by El.

 

“Meowstic!” I asked, distractedly.

 

Where in the heavens was that lock?

 

There was the sound of a fist.

 

There!

 

My stupid hand was trembling as I put the key in the keyhole.

 

“Primarina, Moonblast!” Cain shouted.

 

One turn and…

The key got stuck.

 

Then something infinitely stronger than El’s arms surrounded my torso and started pulling me backwards. It was a Pokemon with one huge muscular arm squeezing my ribs against its soft fur.

 

“You brought this on yourself, Gabriel.” El said. “Goodbye.”

 

The other arm – just one of these arms was strong enough to block my entire upper body! – gently surrounded my neck.

 

“I wish you a nice trip to hell.”

 

Oh shit.

 

The Bewear’s arm started squeezing my neck with agonizing slowness.

 

Oh god no.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t free myself.

 

My brain frantically scanned for solutions.

 

Nothing possible.

 

“And so,” El whispered in my ear, “does Solaris.”

 

I was going to –

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

I think the relative silence – water was still trickling somewhere – woke me up. Or perhaps it was the familiar scent of a colder air from the city, with its perfume of various forms of refuse.

 

“Are you okay?” Cain asked.

 

I was sitting against a wall on the floor of a small room with a half-torn, stained wallpaper, my hand resting against – thank goodness – my bag. There was just a worn wooden desk on my right, Cain sitting at it, then a tall locked cupboard. Saphira was between me and a door, pacing the room. And on my left, after another door, lay on a berth…

 

I rose up too fast and I felt my head spinning so much I had to lean against a wall for the couple of seconds it took for my dizziness to subside.

 

“Calm down, Gabriel,” Radomus’s dreaded voice said in a raw whisper.

 

He sounded tired, which wasn’t a surprise, given how he looked. His face had worse bruises than Cain’s, and it still had room to look deathly pale. Gardevoir didn’t seem to be around. Perhaps I could afford to be forthright, for once.  

 

“How am I supposed to calm down after what you did to El? Don’t you realize what it means to me, to anyone with half a brain that is forced to cross your path?”

“It was mere jest.”

“It’s not a joking matter!” I insisted, furious.

“Fine.” Radomus sighed wearily. “I did hypnotize El, but look at what you saw for a moment. I got hold of him for nearly an hour before I was able to make him surrender that gem he took from your friend. And he turned against me after that interval again. Human minds are… robust. Sure, any strong Psychic Pokemon can confuse someone for a short while. But what you seem to have suspected me of doing? It would take much more than that. It’s power that I do not have. Fortunately so, one might say.”

 

“So that was why El was doing all this thing with the green Safeguard and the weird chanting?” Cain asked, at precisely the right time.

“I wasn’t there, but I suppose that is why. To force Luna to obey him again after she decided to leave… he wouldn’t manage that with a Psychic Pokemon.”

“So what the hell was that?” Saphira questioned.

“I believe he used Luna’s Emerald Brooch.”

“Emerald Brooch?” Cain asked. It was nice to see that we were similarly in the dark.

“This is important.” Radomus tried to raise his voice, but it sounded weaker and weaker. “Gabriel, you met Solaris underneath the city, correct?”

 

The mere mention of the Meteor Leader made me shiver.

 

“El said he knew him, too!” I cut him off in another whisper.

“But he’s too good.” Saphira chimed in. “He could be Elite Four, and all Ame said about the one member I didn’t know was that he was old. I guess it was him.”

“But that’s impossible!” Cain interrupted, indignant. “Someone working with Team Meteor… in the Elite Four?”

 

Wasn’t it what Corey had said, though? About other members of the League being compromised?

 

“Ah.” Radomus tried to chuckle, but he ended up coughing. “Imagine what would have happened if El wasn’t in the Elite Four instead. Free to use his considerable talents in direct opposition to us.”

 

I fought to suppress a smile of admiration creeping in my face, because I wouldn’t grant this to Radomus. That was a chessmaster’s move. Working directly against them, El would have been nigh-unstoppable. By being in the League, he could tell himself that he was being a valuable spy… but it would, in fact,  significantly restrict his options.

 

“Why did he accept, though?” I asked, for I could not fathom any reason why the priest would agree to limit his usefulness.

“Pride? Miscalculation? His like for secrecy and underhandedness?” Radomus asked rhetorically – with whichever rhetoric he could muster with his visibly failing strength. “I don’t know. But he did. You’re basically the only ones who know now. Can I count on you to not screw this up? And above all, don’t tell Ame, because she’s going to fire him.”

 

Pride and miscalculation. There was probably at least another person in this room guilty of the same flaws.

 

At least, the manner in which El was proposing to get Bennett an Elite Four spot was clearer now. Indeed, there might not be another person in the entire operating area of the League able to offer such a position.

 

“I don’t get it…” Cain frowned. “We can’t just pretend that nothing happened!”

“Do you want to fight him face to face the next time to go against Team Meteor?” Saphira replied. Do you want this monstrous Slaking to demolish the Grand Hall in front of everyone’s sight? Collapse the Opal Bridge? It’s a real danger that Team Meteor has someone so high up in the League, but I agree with Radomus. He can’t be as damaging from the shadows than he would be as an avowed enemy.”

 

“But let us back to the Brooch, please.” Radomus asked. “Gabriel, Solaris gave you a little speech about some seals, I assume. Or keys.”

 

Ruby for pain. Sapphire for love. Emerald for faith. Amethyst for the beyond, my memory replayed. I nodded, uncertain where this went. Was jewelry really what it all was about?

 

“They are very old stones.” Radomus went on, “But they were only remade as jewelry a short while ago. The seal of pain, Ruby, was made into a Ring. The seal of love, Sapphire, became Bracelets. Emerald, the seal of faith, was set into a Brooch. Finally, the seal of the beyond, Amethyst, was encrusted in a Pendant. A traveling merchant found these ancient curiosities and sold them throughout the city.”

 

“Listen to me,” Radomus insisted, his voice turning hoarse for lack of strength, his fists clenched and his face contorted. “The four jewels must not fall in Team Meteor’s hands.”

 

“Speaking of which, where is the Amethyst Pendant?” Cain asked.

“In a safe place, and I will keep it there.”

 

“You asked me before, Gabriel.” Radomus tried to speak, his voice rushed, as though he believed he wouldn’t have time to finish. “El is not only dangerous because he is so strong. He is the heir of a cult millennia old and the church he was in has been consecrated ground for centuries. In such a place, a gem as powerful as these will resonate with the holy energy and thus produce some truly breathtaking effects.”

 

Consecrated ground? Magical gems?

Obvious nonsense. The world didn’t work like that.

 

“Okay,” Saphira shrugged. “That’s good to know. Anything else? Because I still have children to take care of, in case you didn’t know, Radomus.”

“So soon? Without even a ‘thank you’?”

“Why? You dropped the ball good today.”

“How then fortunate that I had allies,” he replied, the infuriatingly enigmatic quips giving him a measure of vitality.

 

“What are you talking about?” Cain questioned.

“You remember the kids’ stolen Pokemon? I got a tip today in the nick of time. I asked Gossip Gardevoir to help me with them. She wanted me to rescue him in return. It nearly blew up in my face. Anyway, I have to go. Luna, do you want a ride?”

“Yes, please,” a soft, dreamy voice said from behind me.

 

Ten seconds and the gurgling sound of a struggling plugged sink later, the door next to me opened, and Luna got out, in the same clothes as I had last seen her, with army-short hair. At least, she had a genuinely human expression on her face. It looked perhaps a little too neat for the ordeal she had just been through – she had probably spent some time washing it.

 

“I didn’t have time to thank you all for saving me from this place.” Luna said simply. “I wouldn’t have made it out without you, and I am deeply grateful. Thank you, Saphira. Thank you, Cain. And thank you, Gabriel. But I thought there was someone else?”

 

Radomus emitted a strange sound, somewhere between a pained cough and a chuckle.

 

“Whoa.” Cain went over to see the Psychic Leader, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“He left a little while ago now.” Saphira answered Luna. “Because we’ve kicked up quite a fuss already. But I can put you in touch.”

“Fine,” Radomus articulated, his breathing strained. “Luna… stay safe.”

“I will, Master,” she bowed. “Gabriel, Cain, I will let you know when I am available for challenges in Iolia Valley.”

 

Still peculiar, wasn’t she?

 

Radomus’s breathing slowed down as Luna left the room. It was loud and pained.

 

“Do you think we can leave him like this?” Cain asked me.

“Don’t worry… it’s not so bad…” he articulated, an blatant lie.

“Are you serious?” he asked, eying the Gym Leader’s extensive injuries. “You belong in a hospital!”

“Call one when you leave… I’ll manage. Any questions?”

 

I had one, in fact.

 

“Why did you involve me in all this?”

 

His eyes may have glinted, but Radomus was visibly fighting to stay awake.

 

“When you figure it out… you’re ready to know.”

 

Bastard.

His eyes shut, his body relaxed, and his breathing steadied completely, hoarse and very, very slow.

 

“So what happened in the end?” I whispered to Cain.

“After the Bewear got you, you mean?” he replied. “Not much. Luna got up and managed to unstuck the key. Then that Gothitelle managed to teleport all of us out of that place and here. Just like that, all of us, Pokemon and humans, with your bag and all. Absolutely amazing. Anyway, you were still out when we arrived, so we sat you here while Saphira, I and the other guy healed the Pokemon – the Gossip Gardevoir was in a pretty bad state – and tended to Radomus’s wounds, then mine. Then Luna got in the bathroom.”

 

I looked at him in silence.

 

“I’m glad you decided to help out in the end.” Cain said eventually. “Even though I have no idea what you did, with the red stuff and…” he added, more excitedly, but cut himself off as I put my fingers on my lips, glancing at Radomus.

“Right,” Cain whispered.

 

But I wasn’t so confident. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that I had done the right thing. I had no reason to take what Radomus had said at face value, all the more so since he had proven himself so unworthy of trust. Sure, El had acknowledged links with Solaris, but that didn’t make him an all-around abomination that could do, or tell, or feel no right.

 

“Are you okay?” Cain asked me.

 

Me? I could have scoffed. Radomus belonged in a hospital, Cain had suffered far too many beatings for a single day, and I, who only had scratches to show, who didn’t even fight, wouldn’t be okay?

 

But as I shut my eyes, I could already feel the arms of the Bewear grabbing my torso, crushing my windpipe once again, the physical feeling of helplessness – of failing to breathe – of impossible urgency. And I would be alone tonight to live it again. And again. Which attempt on my life wouldn’t be a close miss? How many more could I survive? How long could I keep rolling natural 20s every time it mattered?

 

What a fucking wimp, I thought at myself, disgusted.

 

Someone started pounding on the door.

 

I glanced at Radomus, who seemed to still sleep uneasily. I grabbed Pokeballs nervously, while Cain went to open. I saw him briefly stiffen in surprise, his shoulders slumping a second afterwards.

 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” a deep voice said. “Cain LaRue, right? You are under arrest for breach of the piece, conspiracy and child kidnapping.”

 

Two officers went into the room without slowing down, forcing him to stand back.

 

“Arceus, Gabriel,” one of them said, recognizing me. “I thought you had understood that you’d be in trouble if you stayed?” She sighed. “Now I have to arrest you as well, for conspiracy, and being an accomplice to child kidnapping.”

 

Why could I never get a break?

 

Sometimes the universe was conspiring against me and there seemed to be little point in resisting.

 

“As you wish.” I extended my hands.

“Just don’t try anything, and you won’t be necessary.”

 

“Mr. Radomus Vanhanen,” another officer enunciated loud and clear, shaking the Leader’s shoulder hard enough to draw a gasp of pain.

 

“What are you doing?” Cain exclaimed, outraged. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”

“You are under arrest for multiple counts of tax fraud.” Do not move. We will escort you to the hospital.”

 

Tax fraud? As El had told…

 

This wasn’t exactly evidence supporting the course of action I had chosen. Cain stopped in his gallant endeavor, gazing at the half-awake Leader, gaping, dumbfounded. But he couldn’t stay so for long and instead turned to defend himself.

 

 

*

 

 

My tired resignation was greeted as agreeable, lawful compliance, whereas Cain’s protestations got him handcuffed again, in spite of my fruitless exhortations to moderation on both sides. For of course Cain thought little good of the police, and they certainly didn’t see in Cain a law-abiding citizen – in spite of all the kindness in his heart. Radomus got, for some reason, cuffed to the stretcher.

 

Apparently, they weren’t even looking for any of us. They had hoped to question Saphira in relation to various cases of assault where she may have been a witness, they said. But Radomus had been a wanted man inside the city for a while, and Cain’s assault on the Orphanage – to which I had ironically been pegged as an accomplice – had been high-profile.

 

Worn down by the pointless struggles of the day, I shut up to turn to the thoughts buzzing in my head.

 

Tax fraud. El being in the Elite. The note. Solaris. Ditto. Consecrated ground. Bewear. The Ruby Ring. The Emerald Brooch. The red Light Screen… the green Safeguard.

 

And a tiny bit of knowledge which had somehow snuck its way into memory while I had been unconscious. I didn't know how I knew it. I didn't know what it meant either. But I knew that the Void was coming. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To be continued…

 

 

Player's note:

Spoiler

So. Radomus. Right.

 

That battle always gives me the shivers, because the field is designed to Radomus’s advantage and he has a team of really good mons. I haven’t computed BSTs, but I’d expect them to be a lot bigger than Noel’s or Serra’s. Plus the Double Battles, the Trick Rooms, the hard hitters and their Seeds? Contrary Malamar? A bloody Metagross?

 

It’s going to take some thought to beat that guy. And, by thought, I mean that what I really need is POWER! UNLIMIT–

 

Anyway, well, the plan is simple: nuke him hard and good. As the threats as soon as they come onto the field –

EX-TER-MI-NAT—

 

And maybe tone done the references, I guess? Also, why do I have to quote the villains? Why can’t I do the pure-hearted hero who thwarts the schemes of the cold and calculating villain with the power of love, friendship, decency and also some actual superpowers? But since I’m brute-forcing, it’d have be a hero who punches a lot, so à la Superman?

 

Never mind.

 

 

I’d love to tell you about my E19 fight with Radomus – how I went in with an entirely different team (of slow Pokemon) to embrace the power of the Trick Room… and then how Radomus completely threw the fight after a couple of close, but unsuccessful attempts. But no. This is the Gabriel save, and it’s staying E18 until Hardy, since mid-game upgrades are at our own peril. It’s a bit of a shame because that would make for a much more comfortable Circus arc, sure…

 

 

The enemy is here doubly threatening. Reuniclus threatens to set up a Trick Room, where he will be faster and mow down everyone else with his super-boosted Psychics and Focus Blasts. On the other hand, Gallade can still Close Combat Callan and this is above 85% damage through Intimidate, while Krookodile is still an important asset to me.

 

 

But we’re in Doubles, so double threats can be dealt simultaneously. Tech’s Fake Out will flinch Gallade, and a Dark Gem-boosted Crunch terminates Reuniclus.

 

The first turn happens as planned, but the fight is not over by any means. There are four cases, all of which I have studied. Radomus can send Malamar, Slowking, Gardevoir or Metagross. The first one is the easiest to deal with, and the one I expected – I can expect Superpower + Close Combat on Krookodile, so I make the switch to Elidee (Ribombee) while Tech sets up a Reflect. Next turn, a Seed-boosted Dazzling Gleam is enough (with Gallade’s SpDef drop due to Close Combat and Ribombee’s spread) to make a double KO, so I get a decisive lead.

Metagross and Gardevoir felt unlikelier, and they’re somewhat more tricky to deal with. Both pretty much imply that Callan will have to sacrifice himself for damage while baiting effective moves from both enemies.

 

So, obviously…

 

 

I was a bit surprised at this choice because Krookodile still has a super effective move. But this also forces my hand, because I can’t let Radomus set the Trick Room.

 

 

So Tech and Krookodile destroy the Slowking at once.

 

 

The downside is that Gallade is free to Close Combat here.

 

 

Radomus sends in Malamar, so we’re back on track. The difference between stage one is that I cannot expect both enemies to target Callan with the super-effective Fighting move, because he’s so low on HP, and the switch-in (Ribombee) is far too frail to tank a Strength. So Krookodile has to go down. I now wonder if this couldn’t have been solved by entering the fight with a slightly damaged Callan, just enough to die to Gallade’s Close Combat? 

 

 

But Callan still moves before his enemies, so he can kill Gallade after the Fake Out damage and the lowered defense.  

 

 

So, let’s talk numbers at this point. I have five standing mons in full health, Radomus has three. Elidee was useful for Slowking, Malamar and Gallade maybe. But she can’t hit Metagross or Gardevoir too hard and I can deal with both of these. Superpower Malamar is a disaster in waiting, on the other hand.

 

 

So you know where this is going.

 

 

Tit for tat. Now we’re four against Metagross and Gardevoir.

 

 

I switch Tech out for Blaziken, because Metagross’s only damaging move to Blaziken is Zen Headbutt, which it’s not going to use against Tech. Gardevoir could, of course, be a problem, but Klinklang’s Gear Grind will take care of it. It would be quite bad if Antum missed this move, so I gave them a Wide Lens.

 

 

Still, Metagross hits hard through Reflect. But we’re four to one, Blaziken has a Fire Gem…

 

 

Leaf actually missed Blaze Kick. And Metagross used Zen Headbutt.

 

Now this is getting uncomfortable. Metagross has an Assault Vest, is physically bulky and hits very hard even through Reflect. On my end, I have Watt (the team’s sixth member, whom I only chose because it would have been silly to face Radomus with five Pokemon), Tech and Antum. Watt is the only one who can do non-pitiful damage. I’m still not using items. Sigh.

 

 

Every little bit helps.

 

 

Just a couple more turns…

 

 

So… close…

 

 

Back to square one. How many of these does he have?

 

 

I make the ill-advised decision to speed this up and have Watt use Discharge instead of Signal Beam. Worse, I don’t realize right away that it’s a stupid mistake. On the other hand, it finally occurs to me that Klinklang has a set-up move.

 

 

Reflect has just ended and I need it. Metagross can’t hit neutrally Klinklang so I hope it’ll target Watt and I can switch Tech in.

 

 

Meanwhile, Radomus uses another Ultra Potion and Klinklang is doing some 25% damage at +1. Too little.

 

 

I set up Reflect again and Antum Shift Gears a second time.

 

 

Metagross got paralyzed the previous turn – I figure I can buy another free set-up round with Fake Out. Only too late do I remember that it is bound to fail.

 

 

At last, Klinklang starts doing some good damage, while I swap Tech with Watt again.

 

 

And it’s finally over.

 

 

How many Elo do I win?  

 

Death count:

Spoiler

Actually, I've played through this part a good while ago, so I don't entirely remember. I think it's essentially correct, but there may be one more reset somewhere when I realized I made a dumb mistake (forgot to relearn the right move / use the correct TM), which should count as a death.  

 

Total Parts 1: 6

Total Part 2: 1

Kiki-Aya: 0

Aya-Serra: 1

Serra-Noel: 0

Noel-Radomus: 1 (again, I should have been less reckless against the Grand Hall grinding Trainers, always better equipped than I would like)

Total Part 3: 2

Total Parts 1-3: 9 (10 at most)

 

Author's comment: 

 

Spoiler

I fought myself all the way about whether I was going to write this note. Suffice to say that the E18 resolution of the scene is unsettling for me, for reasons I don't want to get into. When I tried to expand a bit more, it devolved in the kind of explosive, all-targeting rant that was extremely uncharacteristic and pointless. 

 

Suffice to say that I am not very fond of the way Radomus, Gardevoir and Cain team up to ridicule Bennett while we're supposed to cheer and scoff along when it isn't even necessary. 

 

(Radomus being the Know-It-All-But-I'm-Not-Telling who shows up in the Sanctum and single-handedly disrupts El's doing bugged me as well, but not as deeply. His speech also does not address El's claims, of which Bennett is convinced: that he somehow took away Luna from El through not-innocent means, and he has an unnatural hold on her. I think that it's not entirely unreasonable. If your teenage daughter had absconded and ended up "playing maid" in the castle of a single and mysterious man twice as old as she was, you would be worried.)

 

This is why I believe that the E19 scene is much better: the spotlight is back on El and what he wants, and how his allies react to the fact. 

 

 

[Flannery in Reborn - The Tale of a Firehead [Last defeated: Aster & Eclipse]]

Mille millions de mille milliards de mille sabords! 
 

Uh, sorry, I meant <insert colorful, uncharacteristically enthusiastic, really-quite-overexcited expletive here>. 
 

I’m delighted that you got back to this story… and I need a re-read, as too many of the details now elude me (although I did remember Jacques, the Fist of Justice, and –somewhat less precisely – Dounia). 
 

As usual, your edited pictures are extremely well-made, and it was a very interesting (and eventful!) read. I certainly didn’t imagine that the plot would go down this path – but it’s a good idea. Violence has consequences. 

(speaking of which… is torturing confessions out of suspects common for the Reborn police? I assumed the canonical E<=18 scene was due to the high-profile terrorist attack… but different choices are possible.) 

 

While serial Pokemon abusers (under the pretense of a weirdly ritualistic Darwinism) and Pokemon thieves make disturbing antagonists, you still take care to remind us, in an appropriately apocalyptic way, of the big, looming, dragon-mounted threat. 
 

I’m relieved that Flannery is still a good-hearted person. Had she been more cold-blooded (dare I even say jaded?), she could have got away scot-free by claiming diplomatic immunity, without even a pretense of self-reflection. Instead, she has earned (or earned more?) the respect of the police officers, Ame, and Dounia – and hopefully earned a True Companion! 
 

Here’s to hoping that she triumphs over these savages… ideally by bringing them to court (then jail) rather than to the intensive care unit.

[The Odd One Out -- A Reborn Story]

On 6/6/2022 at 11:54 AM, Evi Crystal said:

Now this was a suprisly yet nice change of a current chapter. Didn't expect for this one to happen, but I enjoyed it the parts involving DJ Arclight and Saphira in all her ruthless brutality towards the scum. Especially liking her small act

 

I didn't intend to have these Pokemon stolen from Charlotte and the others for ever. And the time seemed right to have that plot play out. Saphira's small act was a spur of the moment thing... I needed to make her interact with the darker facade she had lost physical touch with. But of course, her fighting ability hasn't changed one bit. Nor has her willingness to use it.    

 

On 6/6/2022 at 11:54 AM, Evi Crystal said:

It is 100% just truth, when you think Bout this! I like this description because it tells us sort of years of down spiraled madness and hidden dangers.

 

Part of how I see 7th Street comes from novels I read about the power, reach (and, incidentally, atrocities) of Mexican drug cartels, which include their usual "relationship" to the police. I assumed that something like that had to happen in Reborn as well. Ten years is a long time of misery... Also, I like your new profile picture. 

 

 

 

 

Hi!

 

I'm not saying much more today. There should be more than enough in the chapter, which is significantly longer than any I have written so far... Enjoy! (and beware the details)

Next in line will be the final chapter of Mind Games... an even longer one, probably. If it doesn't end up split for ease of editing. 

 

Chapter 70: Insider Trading

 

Spoiler

About 4.15 pm

 

 

“Blacksteam?”

 

Arclight’s heart churned in disgust at the possibility. They weren’t even doing this underground, they were flaunting? But, just practically, how could they do that? As far as he knew, doing business aboveground was almost taboo in Seventh Street. It was a last-resort measure when parties felt so much that they had absolutely no other way to prevent treachery that they were ready to risk getting found out, busted or, worse, tailed. The nerve!

 

“With how many Pokemon they’re selling, and how strong and rare some of them are,” Saphira explained to him, catching his tone, “it’ll take a lot of money to buy them. This means rich people, and they don’t care to find themselves underground.”

 

Arclight nodded. However repulsive the behavior of these rich assholes were – buying Pokemon that had been stolen from children – it made sense. He wouldn’t have bet much on their survival odds underground either, savvy bodyguards or not.

 

They were back in the open air, somewhere in the Peridot Ward, strolling towards Blacksteam Factory. This location was a spanner in the works: there was only one way to reach the building, which made it particularly easy to defend, although Saphira suspected that there had to be a secret exit somewhere. Because there was so much money involved, there would be security – starting with a lot of lookouts – and the Pokemon would be safely evacuated long before either of them could reach the building if they came too close.

 

So they had to find another way.

 

Hopefully, Arclight was thinking, one that wouldn’t put him at too much risk, either for himself or for his job with the police. Thankfully, Saphira wasn’t aware of it at the moment. He would have to bring up her case to his handlers’ attention, which she would certainly have objected to. She had shown herself far more apt at navigating this world than she should have been: how to get down in the first place, how to dodge all the traps and mow through the ambushes, how to find her way, how she had found their exit so quickly – one that Arclight hadn’t suspected existed!

 

Saphira, on the other hand, was glad that Arclight had bought her story about this being a purely personal venture. She was relieved that he hadn’t realized how the timeline didn’t add up. While she generally was fond of straightforward action, she would never have acted like this if she had actually had to investigate. She knew she was noticeable: messages would have been heard, plans re-arranged to elude her. Being this blunt had been conceivable only because she had known she was out of time.

 

Bloody typical, her mind picked up a promising idea. How long had they waited before telling her?

 

“Okay, I know what we’re going to do,” she whispered to Arclight, slowly speeding up.

 

She waited for the DJ to process what she said and to catch up with her pace.

 

“There’s someone. Someone who knew everything that was going on, what everyone was doing. He was pulling off some really impressive stunts too. Anyway, after a few big shots, people started to fear him, fear what he knew – because he had to know a lot more than he was showing. And he took full benefit of it. Sometimes he would send someone from him at some place and everyone knew it was serious business and he was watching them.”

“Let me guess. We’re going to pretend we’re one of these envoys, right?”

“You will. I’ll be your bodyguard. They’ll buy it.”

“But,” Arclight frowned, “there must have been other people who lied like this, no?”

“We’ll worry about this later.” Saphira replied urgently.

“Look, Saphira, I’m all for getting the Pokemon back, but that guy will be pissed if we do anything like this.”

“Who’ll know?” Saphira snapped. Just take the story already… “Worst case scenario, things get out of hand. With how much they’re going to sell? It won’t surprise anybody.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Okay,” Saphira sighed. “I agreed to pen-test him a couple of years ago,” she lied. “He owed me a favor, and I’ll call it in. You can tell him, if you want.”

“Before or after he has me cut to pieces?”

 

Arclight was no innocent. He knew what happened to people who disturbed the powers-that-be underground, and that said powers did not forgive, nor did they forget. He would have to leave the city for a long while. Then again, if it was a way to escape this oppressive, bloody universe, and end his presence on a high note, one little bit of genuine good, he’d take it. He was sick of this world, and this city who seemed to get uglier by the week.

 

“Can you promise me that there won’t be consequences?” he insisted.

“No.” Saphira scowled. “We’re about to make a shot worth millions, of course there’ll be consequences.”

“I meant from the guy you were speaking earlier.”

“Ah.” She remained silent for a few seconds. “Then yes, I promise you that I can sort this bit out.”

 

“Fine,” Arclight decided. “You know we’ll have to get out of here really fast, right?”

“I’ll need to stay a bit longer.” Saphira replied. “Something else to do, I can’t help it. If you want to help, you’re welcome. But afterwards, yes.”

“Sure.” Arclight agreed. How bad could it be? “How do you think I should look?”

“You have to look determined,” Saphira frowned, thinking. “Really determined. But you’re also supposed to know more than what everyone is seeing. Almost like you’re playing cards with them and you can see their hand.”

“They’re going to kill me if I go around looking like that.”

“They won’t,” Saphira shook her head. “And if it really came to that, I could hold off a lot of them while you escape.”

 

Arclight barely suppressed the sentence ‘you always says the sweetest things’, complete with an ironic coo, because Saphira was clearly not joking any more. In fact, Arclight wondered, she looked like she might have strongly resented such a joke. She had put her black hood on – although the dimming daylight made it rather unnecessary – and she looked a bit tenser than usual, as they knew they were approaching the massive, disused factory.  

 

She stopped abruptly when they met an idle young man with the face of a teenager, looking a little bit too aimless in this suspiciously empty neighborhood.

 

“We’re invited,” Saphira went straight at him, eyes narrowed, not letting him any room for denial. “Announce us.”

“What are you talking about?” he answered, bewildered. “There’s nothing around here!”

 

Saphira got closer to him with so much hostility that Arclight wondered whether he should stop her.

 

“Don’t lie to me,” she snarled. “There’s a sale in Blacksteam. They’ve told you to look out for troublemakers. We’re invited, and I don’t feel like mowing through the security. I won’t ask again.”

 

He took a step back.

 

“Whoa, calm down, miss. We’re not – “

 

Saphira struck him mid-sentence with a strong, and rather unforgettable, blow from her knee, before a single uppercut brought the breathless boy down.  

 

Worthless, she thought. Even there they just can’t do proper security any more. Back in her days, no one would have left themselves so exposed to such an attack. Then again, they’d have recognized her on sight.

 

“Saphira,” Arclight whispered at her, shocked. “How old is he?”

“Stay in character,” she snapped between clenched teeth. “He’s lowlife fodder who has no right to question or inconvenience his betters, and deserves what came to him.” 

“I’m not doing – “ Arclight started to protest, aghast at his partner’s behavior.

 

Then Saphira purposefully kicked the lying youth’s head, hard, drawing blood and a dazed whimper of pain.

 

“He is an annoyance and an obstruction.” Saphira told Arclight, staring straight in his eyes, her voice surprisingly even when compared to her grim, hard face, “You were given a job. He told you what happened if you botched it up. This guy?” she nodded at the trembling shape on the ground. “He’s a street rat. He’ll recover. But the Pokemon will be gone, and the job missed. So either man up and get onboard, or get lost. What’ll it be?”

“Yeah,” Arcligth sneered, “I bash kids’ heads in all day, sure. Everyone knows it.”

“I’m here so that you don’t have to do that”, the Leader snapped. “As you should bloody know, everyone here reacts to confidence and intimidation. If you look like you’re lost, or you don’t want to stand for yourself, they’ll kill you. Are we on the same page now?”

“Just stop beating everyone up for no reason,” Arclight asked somberly.

“And how else am I showing them that I’m calling the shots? The damsel in distress act? But if they stay in their place, I won’t attack them. That’s the best deal you’re going to get.”

“Fine,” Arclight grunted, with sickened reluctance. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the blood flowing from the youth’s mouth.

 

Barely two minutes happened before someone who actually looked like a mobster bodyguard came to meet them at a brisker, more purposeful pace. He was built much more powerfully, and his scowl was a lot more telling. It told most people, for instance, that they had better be in another town very soon.

 

“What are you two doing here?” he asked in a low voice, his arms slowly swinging along his body, slightly crouching as he faced them.

“We’re invited to the party in Blacksteam.” Saphira replied coldly.

“Where are your invitations?”

 

Invitations? Arclight thought. They didn’t have invitations…

 

“He,” Saphira nodded at him, in a categorical tone, “was sent by someone who needs no invitations. I’m his bodyguard.”

 

A mixture of confusion and fear utterly failed to appear on the man’s face. He looked more annoyed than anything. Probably wondering how to get rid of us, Saphira thought. Street trash was as good and as valuable as cannon fodder, and no one would bother asking questions – but someone like the thug facing her was far more valuable. She could have taken him without batting an eye, but the fact that he had come meant that someone’s eyes were on them. If she broke in all the way – as she knew she could – she would miss her shot. So she had to start showing her hand. 

 

“Lasker,” she said, stressing the first syllable and very faintly rolling the ‘r’.

 

The man straightened up slightly and didn’t reply at once, as though he was suddenly unsure of where he was treading in. He glanced at her again, trying to make out her features under her hood, then he started to examine Arclight. To his credit, Saphira thought, the DJ was keeping his composure as he had agreed to, confidently staring straight ahead without paying attention to the guard, even though he had no idea how bad of a risk they were taking.

 

“He’s the DJ,” the mobster finally scoffed. “He’s not Lasker material.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Saphira replied, her voice seemingly softer, but somehow drawing the man’s attention again.

“Yeah, right,” his grin grew larger, more self-satisfied, more cocky. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, baby, but you should just go home and stop talking like the men around here. You thought you could say that name for the thrill, didn’t you? I can give you some thrill without you having to say anything.”

 

Arclight’s fists slowly clenched as the other man’s words became more patronizing, his innuendoes clearer, as he held out a big hand towards Saphira.

 

Saphira was watching him icily as he spoke, and did not bother to move as he extended his hand. She could feel her partner-in-legitimate-crime getting tenser too. But all-out fighting wasn’t a solution.

 

She drew back her black cowl, and repeated, glaring at the thug’s eyes with threatening certainty.

 

“We are sent by Lasker. Announce us.”

 

Seeing Saphira’s face made the mob guard drop all pretense of playfulness, his extended hand drop in dismay, and his eyes widened as though the very Grim Reaper, instead of a twenty-two-year-old redhead, was in front of his eyes.

 

“Bloody Red…” he whispered, shocked awe and remnants of long-lived terror in the eyes that were unable to look at her face, unwittingly walking small steps backwards.

“Do it.” Saphira snapped, milking for all its worth the advantage that her fame gave her.

 

The man looked at Arclight’s face, now grimmer and irritated. His frantic eyes made every effort to look everywhere but at Saphira.

 

“It would be my honor,” he managed to articulate, his head slightly bowed.

 

 

*

 

About 4.30 pm

 

 

Saphira remembered, from discussing Amaria’s operation, that there was another entrance to the building, at its top, but she, Arclight and their self-appointed guide used the main entrance to the factory. This was rather fortunate: if she tried to recover the Pokemon by force, before or after the sale, whichever gang was in charge of the sale’s safety – for a good fee, of course – would be ready to bar the way they entered the facility, so they would need another way out.

 

A skinnier young man, uncomfortable in the smart suit and shoes that he didn’t know how to wear, was waiting for them inside. He kept casting the pair anxious glances, as though they were ticking time bombs with a countdown he didn’t know.

 

“He’ll tell you everything,” their first guide tried to take his leave, with his composure back. “Just a word: you understand, I am sure, that we need a tight security in this place. If you send out any Pokemon, or do anything too suspicious, the guards will attack you.”

 

Arclight used all his self-control to not glance anxiously at Saphira. She remained stoic – that is, scowling – because she had expected something like that. She could even use this demand to her advantage.

 

“I’m his bodyguard,” she nodded at Arclight. “How am I supposed to protect him without Pokemon?”

“Let us take care of this, please. We will not let anyone else enter.”

“Entrances?” she questioned dismissingly.

“There are three of them. One is our own, and is heavily guarded on both sides. Another is on the roof, and we guard it too. The last one is where you’re standing. We have lookouts all around the place. And many other guards patrolling the facility, ready at seconds’ notice.”

 

Well, so much for the roof escape… or maybe not.  

 

Saphira could see that it wasn’t a boast, either. The gang controlling the factory had four members guarding this entrance, two of them watching carefully her and Arclight, the two others staring at the entrance, one slightly behind the other one, all of them steady and alert with one Pokeball in each hand – half of them Ultra Balls, the other half more varied.  

 

“What about teleportation?”

“We have someone who knows this stuff, Liz. She covers it for us. She’s also jamming all of the electronic stuff we don’t want.”

 

This degree of care didn’t surprise her, but it was making the problem harder. Much harder, in fact.

 

“Fine.” Saphira relented. “Shall we?” she turned to Arclight, noting the small knowing smile on his lips, as though he had already known what had been said. Was he just a good actor, or…?

 

The DJ nodded slightly absent-mindedly. Saphira definitely knew much more than she ought to. How come? Something else was nagging his mind, too: suppose he mentioned her to the police. They would start digging. What would they find? How deeply in trouble would he put her in?

 

And would she deserve all of the trouble?

 

The large thug nodded slightly to both of them, and started first walking in the corridor, his eyes glancing everywhere, one Dusk Ball and a Great Ball in his hands. After a minute of anxiously watching the DJ and the Leader, the skinny young man shily cleared his throat.

 

“Please follow me,” he said softly, pointing towards the corridor.

 

His voice was getting increasingly flustered as he led them through wide metallic corridors, worn by dirty soles, time, greasy spots, and some suspiciously dark red stains. They met four pairs of patrolling guards in the meantime, who displayed no sign of acknowledgement except for wary gazes following the group for as long as they could.  

 

“So,” the young man said as they walked, “it’s an auction, right? You just, er, raise your hand to bid on the Pokemon that interest you, okay? We will announce how much the bids are, but of course you can say so if you want, if you want to choose how much you’re overbidding. Here’s what we’re selling,” he handed Arclight a few sheets of paper, folded together.

 

It was good that their guide looked so terrified of both of them. It made Arclight a lot more confident to play his role. Intimidation, Saphira knew, was a matter of practice, whether it was about appearance or the actual ability to back it up, and Arclight, while no pushover, wasn’t on the level of the money they would be up against. As far as everyone else knew, he was the pleasant, neutral DJ who could set up so awesome parties. The Lasker name, and herself, were doing all the heavy lifting.

 

But it was a small relief. It was only the easiest part of her problem, she knew. In a few minutes, they would be ushered in the auction room. There would be dozens of watchful people – and a number of paranoid guards – making sure that the Pokemon were handed to the people most willing to pay for them. They would have careful security protocols – tried-and-tested by many attempts, successful or not, to bypass them, not least her own.

 

Perhaps we’ll be able to use the Lasker name again, she thought. Maybe they won’t dare ask us to pay, trusting Lasker to be good on the money. But it was unlikely. They had been let in because Lasker was known to not take kindly to rejection – even by Seventh Street standards – nor to demands that he mind his own business. But giving credit was certainly too outrageous a request – even if it did not demonstrate an implausible, and therefore lethally dangerous, cluelessness.

 

She hadn’t had the time to tell Arclight how to behave at the auction, either. She had brought just enough money to afford one of the least remarkable Pokemon on display. Arclight probably couldn’t, either. So what should they do?

 

Watch, some part of her suggested. Note who bought what. Then jump them.

Lasker might have managed it. Found yet another clever way to bypass the security. But the bastard was slipping, she knew. And yet, he had still had the gall…

But she had to act, not mull. Find the flaw, exploit it and get out.

 

“These Pokemon…” the young man was explaining Arclight, “Some of them are very powerful and can be quite aggressive. And the police is also looking for some of them, so, um... anyway, we’ve locked the Balls.”

“So you’re going to make us pay you some outrageous number and we’ll only get empty balls?” Saphira snapped at him.

“N-no, of course not. There is, er, a machine in the room showing that the Pokeballs contained what we said they would. You’re a bit, um, late, so you won’t be able to test it, but everyone else has. We’re not going to try to swindle you. Anyway, the lock is time-sensitive, it’ll lift around the end of the sale, but it’d still be a b-bad idea to use them at once.”

“So instead you’ll jump us someplace after we leave? Tip someone else off? Track the Balls?”

“No, of course not!” the young man protested. “We made, er, plans to avoid this! You’ll be told after the sale.”

 

Tracking Balls? Two of the three found themselves thinking. What kind of paranoid nutcase would think of that?

 

Had they voiced their befuddlement, had Saphira been in a more perverse mood, she could have told them stories. Indeed, she would be damned if she let herself get had again by a tampered Pokeball – however disreputable and cracked down on the practice was. For while the biggest bullies in town would gleefully pillage and murder throughout the underworld as much as they could, an abundance of tampered Pokeballs was making them too vulnerable to the weaker groups they preyed upon. Instead of the business-favorable stability – read, control through intimidation – that their strength permitted, this was promising generalized escalation and chaos.

 

Arclight and Saphira were unexpectedly led into a guarded stairwell, up the stairs, and they stopped in the corridor just outside the stairwell exit, as a nasty-looking, strong mobster went obstructing it. Two colleagues of his, with faces just as pleasant, and big hands clutching dark Ultra Balls, took up position on each side, completely controlling the paths that someone wishing to make an exit could take.

 

As the young man mumbled some awkward and flustered goodbyes, Saphira and Arclight tuned out the guards’ repeated warning about the painful fate that awaited them should they try anything funny, and entered the room just opposite the stairwell.

 

There hadn’t been a window in the steel corridor, just like there wasn’t one in the room they had been ushered in. It was wide and flat. About fifty people in formal wear were sitting in groups of three or four at separate cheap, slightly chipped, stained, wooden tables. Eight mobsters stood motionless, wary, their icy gaze sweeping the room regularly. The two guards closest to the entrance glared at the newcomers, but nobody else paid them any attention, which was as good as they could have hoped for. Saphira slowly put her hood on again. Recognizing her would make everyone else on edge – which wouldn’t help her in the slightest.

 

At the other end of the room, a worn Pokemon Center machine stood in the leftmost corner, but the main feature was a wide counter with a dozen labelled shoeboxes, in front of a stage. A platter, apart from all the boxes, contained ranges of Pokeballs in individual compartments. Behind the counter, a small overhead projector displayed a widened version of what the machine could have read, had it been plugged in and if Pokeballs were inside.

 

Currently, it showed a rather agitated Typhlosion. Saphira’s fists clenched on their own. It had to be Charlotte’s. She was not going to let the assholes behind the goons at the other tables get away with stealing from her sister. How could they have dared in the first place? And it would suffice of a single word to make them think twice…

 

“Three hundred,” an excited voice said, the auction organizer’s, a man with twinkly chestnut eyes, shoulder-length black hair glistening dark blue which he enjoyed shaking.

 

His hands were covered by two very fine white gloves. One of them was pointed at one of the buyers, two fingers in his other hand were pinching the hem of a small black top hat. He was pacing relentlessly on the stage, behind the counter.

 

It took all of her self-control to not react explosively when the Dragon Leader felt Arclight’s hand lightly on her arm, as if to invite her towards a free table, not too close from the stage, but not at the back of the room either.

 

“It’s not a good idea to touch me.” Saphira angrily hissed in Arclight’s ear.  

“I hate what’s happening too,” Arclight replied in a softer mutter. “But we’re not here to make a scandal, are we?”

“We are not,” Saphira whispered back, making a visible effort to unwind her body and cool her boiling blood.

“Speaking of which… Bloody Red?” Arclight questioned, as his curiosity – and reservations about his ally – had kept growing as he wasn’t able to voice them, overwhelming his concerns about their current situation. “Lasker? Modified Pokeballs? Anything else I need to know?”

“Not now,” she deflected.

 

“Three hundred thirty,” the auctioneer smiled and nodded to the bidder, as he lightly skipped back and forth on stage, his arms apparently swinging of their own volition, his shoes barely making any noise as they brushed the floor.

 

So far above her means…

 

“Fine,” the DJ replied with a hint of the amusement that he didn’t feel, “so what do I do now? Three hundred sixty? Four hundred?”

“You can’t afford that, can you?”

“It’s thousands, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know…” Saphira trailed off, unsure of herself. How would she ever manage to bypass all this security, certainly trained and on high alert, and get the Pokemon back, when she could barely afford this one – which was very good indeed, but not, and by far, the best one on display for the day?

 

“Three hundred sixty! Going once!” the overexcited showman skipped in place, his arm flying towards the latest bidder.  

 

“Do you know this clown?” Arclight asked Saphira.

“No,” she answered, barely listening, still trying to figure out what she could do.

 

“Going twice!”

 

Saphira was shaking. One of her sister’s favorite Pokemon was slipping from her hands and she couldn’t do anything to do it… If only she had a little time, to figure out something. Anything!

 

“Sold at three hundred sixty!” the auctioneer trumpeted. “To the new fire insurance in the city,” he extended his hand at the buyer. “You better give me a discount!” he chuckled theatrically.

 

A curtain of blood fell over Saphira’s eyes. She did not know where she was any more. All she could smell was the thick, throat-irritating, unbreathable smoke. The panic, the helplessness. Laura’s weakness as she wouldn’t wake up, wouldn’t move fast enough, Charlotte watching the inferno outside, her face an unholy mixture of dismay and morbid fascination – the house collapsing in the blaze behind her…

 

And she hadn’t been able to do anything!

 

Out, screamed the tiny sliver of rational thought that remained in her consciousness. She needed to get out of this room, or she was going to snap for good. She didn’t remember getting up, nor starting to walk. She didn’t realize that the entire room was somehow avoiding to look at her, even though her dirty, worn black cape and hood looked out of place, as though her rage was as bright and painful to behold as a star.

 

Somehow, she found herself outside the room without remembering any interaction with the pair of guards on either side. The momentum of her wrath, the effort of keeping it in line propelled her perhaps twenty paces in the corridor, before someone found themselves bold enough to ask threateningly:

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

 

*

 

 

Arclight had half-heartedly tried to stop Saphira from making a scene, but he could feel that it was not a good idea, even without looking at her. Moreover, making a scene, displaying failure of any kind, even surprise, was only exposing his weakness. He could but hope that she could keep herself together, while he figured out what to do, so that they may eventually take action together.

 

He watched as a black-clad individual, gracelessly wearing his ill-fitting formal clothes, walked slowly towards the wide counter in front of the stage with both hands held high above his head, a stack of bank bills in his right hand. He stopped as he faced one of the shoeboxes on the counter, and put there the stack of bank notes, before walking back two steps.  

 

Arclight watched the manic entertainer put his hat on the counter, carefully pick a Pokeball on the platter, absent-mindedly juggling with it. Then he leant on the counter, leaving the ball on it while he seized and counted the bank bills. Apparently satisfied, he took them from the box and put them behind the countertop – hidden from view – while putting the Pokeball into the box.

 

The few next Pokemon to be auctioned were less strong, and definitely less impressive than Charlotte’s Typhlosion was. There was a Swellow, probably Noel’s, Shelly’s Volbeat and Illumise, some even weaker Pokemon, but not the kind that roamed the streets either. While all of them were worth something, they helped Arclight get a better grasp of who really was in the room.

 

Half the buyers were big gangs, trying to get ammunition for the fights they would inevitably run into. They were interested in Pokemon they trusted to be high-potential, like a baby Goomy, a Heracross, and, for one who seemed a little bit less primitive than the others, a Sableye and the Illumise. The others knew how to wear suits, which put them in the ranks of the affluent, selfish Lapis trash that would collect Pokemon for ostentation, treat them as living decoration or entertainment, if not outright psychopathic abuse, hardly a more enviable fate than a life of brutal, life-or-death combat.

 

At least, Saphira would have thought in her normal state, a gang out for fights will be careful to manage their strongest Pokemon properly, to use them as effectively as possible.

 

The more the sale went on, the more disgust was seeping into Arclight’s soul, for everyone else in the room, sitting and standing, the predatory gangs who dealt in blood for blood’s sake, and the so-called “model citizens” who could afford the right to theft without its dangers, without even the excuse of an inescapable misery in a merciless pretense of society.  

 

He wished he could escape from this place. There was a ghastly feel in the room, and it wasn’t due to the dirty money and dirtier people. It reeked of compromission. Somehow, by accepting the rules binding this place, Arclight was feeling complicit in the infamy – all the more so since he had to participate to not stand out too sorely, but never so much as to be forced to pay money that he hadn’t seen in a long while. He could not suppress the same thrill – marred with too weak a tingle of horror – when the salesman announced a Volcarona, doubtlessly Charlotte’s, which raised the entire room’s excitement by another notch.

  

*

 

Spoiler

“What do you think you’re doing here?” the tone was inquisitory, and Saphira knew that she was as good as dead if she betrayed any instant of uncertainty.

“My job,” her reply was automatic, her poise impeccable.

 

It was, without the shadow of a doubt, the easiest part of the impending confrontation, but she felt good hearing her own voice, snappy and commanding. It helped her focus, get her ideas in order.

 

“And what is that?” the mobster asked contemptuously.

“I’m Arclight’s bodyguard. And I’m looking through this facility. I’m not leaving his safety into your hands.”

“You think we can’t do the job?” he snarled.

“I think you don’t care enough.” Saphira shrugged in a harder voice. “I do.”

 

It felt comforting seeing the guard undecided, if only for a moment. She was in control again, of something at least. As she should have been in the first place. If he hadn’t…

 

Curse him, she thought. If only he had told her sooner! She would have had time to prepare herself, to make plans, to recruit useful allies – whatever the means. But now – how everything unfolded was outside her hands. Her attempts to control it would be as precise as kicking a ball rolling down a steep hill.

 

And that stupid hyperactive histrion with his stupid hat and his stupid jokes and –

 

A little smile, slightly too hopeful, appeared on Saphira’s lips. Perhaps there was a way to come out on top of this impossible mess.

 

A way that a tour of the factory might actually help.

 

 

*

 

 

In spite of her poise, Saphira wasn’t entirely sure what she had hoped to accomplish with this tour. More precisely, she had had several goals, some of which were easy, and some of which were so open-ended that they could range from straightforward to impossible.

 

First, she had wanted to better understand how the gang’s security worked. It was easy. On the first floor, she had counted no less than a dozen guards constantly patrolling on high alert, ready to throw Pokemon out at half a second’s notice – and they certainly wouldn’t be run-of-the-mill ones.

 

She also had proceeded to deliberately annoy her escort, by insisting to search some of the closed rooms. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Anything suspicious. Clothes in excess. More Pokeballs. A secret passage. Or even a secret compartment. Anything else that could give her an edge.

 

“What is the point?” the stout mobster asked, after she had repeated the procedure on the ground floor for the fourth time. “I cannot help,” he added more threateningly, “to find your actions highly suspicious.”

“You didn’t clean up the mess in the corridors,” Saphira shrugged. “I can’t help but think you could have missed something someplace else.”

“Careful, miss,” the reply wasn’t disguising its hostility any more. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure I know,” Saphira answered, scorning the threat. “It used to be a squat, I guess?”

“What’s it to you? They wouldn’t have made it through the winter anyway.”

 

But the blood spots left on the floor weren’t signs of neglect, Saphira knew. They had been left on purpose. What we want, it said, we take. You get in our way, you die.

 

The problem was, she was proposing to do exactly that.

 

 

*

 

 

“So, how does it work after the auction?” she switched topics, both satisfied and displeased at her fruitless search. “How will you prevent everyone from stealing from everyone else?”

 

The other guard shrugged. The girl had been incredibly persistent, only relenting when he had denied her access to the gang’s more private rooms, which were far from the center. This wasn’t even sensitive information – there was little point in giving it. He knew how nightmarish security for anyone, or anything, could be.

 

“You remain in the room with most of the guards. We take our cut of the money in a safe place. We escort the dealer out with his share. A few minutes after he leaves, you start leaving, one group after another. Each of you has five minutes to scatter.”

“What about your lookouts?”

“You accepted the risk when you came here.” A shrug. “It’s not like they’re very valuable either. If one of them is too nosy, just knock him off a bit.”

 

 

*

 

 

If the previous auctions had been outrageous, the ones that Arclight had been left to witness alone had been worse, and he was struggling to hold his disgust back when Saphira came back. The Pokemon sold had been stronger than before. The Volcarona had been sold well over four hundred thousand, Charlotte’s Ninetales at nearly six hundred thousand, but it was still change money compared to what had been coming.

 

After a little cool-off, a Salamence – Heather’s, no question – had been set in the machine, with readings that had hyped the room, and fired everyone’s twisted imagination. He had seen the fierceness of the bids, and the shameless profligacy of the audience, throwing around seven-digit sums like they meant nothing. Like there weren’t the equivalents of a dozen people’s yearly rent!

 

A smug, closely shaved guy in a fitting suit with too much muscle to not be a top henchman bought it with a flip-off at slightly under ten million.

 

I’ve seen this guy somewhere, Arclight wondered. But I don’t know where or when.

 

And then the hunt was on. He watched, incensed and powerless, as the bidding for the most insanely powerful Pokemon of the lot, Heather’s and Anna’s, certainly, started. The showman wasn’t even bothering to disguise their source, and instead reveled in the buyers’ fever, his smooth voice sounding like it was caressing the mountains of cash needed to afford such creatures.

 

Anna’s Starmie was sold at four million and a half, with only a couple of really interested buyers. But Heather’s fliers were all worth above seven million, while her Therian Landorus was the most disputed of all, until finally the same formally clothed meatbag bought it for fifteen million and flipped everyone off, again.

 

“So, you’re done with the tantrum?” Arclight grunted to her when she sat back, apparently oblivious to what she had missed. “I mean, if you aren’t, we can put it to use, get rid of all this scum. That’d be right up your alley, no?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” she whispered back sadly. “There’ll just be more bloody chaos, and then the worst of the bunch will rise to the top. Like they always do. This place is a lost cause. Plus, killing is not what it’s hyped to be.”

“Worth a try,” the DJ muttered, without raising the implicit admission. “Any other ideas?”

“Not much,” the Leader replied on the same tone, glancing at the Pokemon list. Only a couple more remained, as Charlotte’s Darmanitan was knocked down at five hundred thousand. They didn’t have much time left.

 

Worse, she still didn’t know what she should do. She had a couple of ideas, sure – but they were all unforgivably risky. The premise made sense, sure – but what if she was mistaken? She knew the consequences if she failed.

 

“Take those,” she decided, handing Arclight two balls. “If things go wrong, you’ll notice. They’ll know what to do.”

“What do you mean? What are you planning to do?”

 

Saphira shook her head.

Arclight was just able to not swear aloud.

 

 

*

 

About 5.20 pm

 

 

After a last (and, most of the attendants thought, pitiful) buffoonery by the show-off auctioneer, the sale took end. Soon enough, as Saphira had been told, more guards were sent into the room, while the gang moved its filthy cash away first, and then escorted out the auctioneer and his bag, heavier in dirty money but some fifty Pokeballs lighter.

 

A wary silence fell on the place, as the guards took the shoeboxes on the counter one by one and put it on the corresponding buyers’ tables. Now was the dangerous time. All parties had been careful, but no one could know whether anyone else was planning mischief, and they did not dare drop their guard. Many dark looks came towards Saphira and Arclight, who were all the more conspicuous since they had barely taken part. Everyone stayed seated at their table, glaring at their neighbors.

 

But there was something that Saphira could do. Oblivious to everyone else’s opinion, at Arclight’s indication, she went to seek the group who had bought Charlotte’s Ninetails while she was elsewhere. Their leader did look more distinguished than most of the other attendants put together, but it was not much indication. It just meant that he indulged in his eccentricity on his own. He listened politely to her quiet offer of seven hundred thousand – something she could technically pay if she went back to Labradorra – but was forced to decline. It was, he explained in a mild voice, a present to his wife for their thirtieth anniversary, to celebrate the warmth of their love.

 

Showing disgust, pointing out the hypocrisy, would have been tipping her hand off. Instead, she just as politely thanked him for his time and went back to her seat.

 

Then, at the guards’ announcement, everyone was to pick their box and leave the room to get on the ground floor, closer to the exit, where groups would make their way out one by one, to avoid the temptation to hit and run another group’s purchase.

 

Following Saphira’s hints, Arclight didn’t rush, and found himself first of the queue, followed by half a dozen mobsters, who looked even readier to react to anything improper, to break the wary silence, the stressful balance of deterrence.  

 

Saphira didn’t move. Given what the guard had told her, it wouldn’t make any difference to anyone if she stayed. She didn’t expect them to insist much. After all, what could she do? Everything worthwhile – the money and the Pokemon – were under a heavy guard against which she doubted her odds. This “Liz” – the lookouts – was making sure that no one from the outside could interfere in the building.

 

And where did this leave her? Waiting in the room. Waiting for a tiny chance that might come, the safest remaining possibility. If it didn’t manifest, then she would have to tip more of her hand to Arclight – dangerous information in unreliable hands, for an unsure benefit.

 

She sighed and kept waiting.

 

The minutes she needed to check her hunch had no business being so long.

 

 

*

 

 

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Ace,” an unassuming man with a diminutive frame and a shaved head shook the auctioneer’s hand. “I will look forward to your next windfalls.”

 

The man who had been called Ace smiled.

 

“It was my pleasure too. I’ll be in touch.”

 

He was now alone on the roof. Free, and a good eight figures’ worth of cash richer. How so many buyers could have been interested was beyond him. These Pokemon were dangerous! Belonging to Leaders, Elite members! They wouldn’t have been this good if they hadn’t been fiercely loyal.

 

It would serve the suckers right if…

 

He froze. No. No yet. He grabbed a Pokeball and sent out a Whimsicott.

 

“You know where to go,” he said fondly, giving the Pokemon his bag. “Don’t be seen.”

 

He watched the Windveiled Pokemon shoot off the roof with a favorable sudden gust of wind. He trusted his fairy to be faster and even sneakier than he could be.

 

He waited for a few more minutes.

 

Now, no one had any reason to be watching out where he planned to go. He went back in Blacksteam Factory.

 

 

*

 

 

The same black-clad figure in a cowl was still sitting in the auction room, against rhyme or reason. Saphira! He had recognized her – even before that fire ‘joke’, a blatant confirmation if there was ever one – but ‘Ace’ wouldn’t have, so he had had to stay in character.  

 

What he definitely didn’t expect was the massive Haxorus unexpectedly grabbing his throat and pinning him against the nearest wall, obviously not out of overenthusiastic admiration for his juggling skills. Not that Saphira was incapable of something like this – but he had expected her to be more controlled. There was no telling how dangerous an unrestrained Saphira was. Even for him. Even now. But he had hoped that she wouldn’t have figured it out.

 

“Fancy seeing you here, Corin,” she walked slowly, warily, in her direction with her cowl still on.

“Who are you?” he gasped, earnest fright in his voice.

“I’m in a hurry,” she snapped back. “Stop pretending, Corin. I’d hate to have to ask Haxorus to remove your lenses.”

 

The green dragon raised threateningly his other claw, and, indifferent to the auctioneer’s panicked efforts to get free, raised it close to his face.  

 

“Fine, I’m Corin,” he shouted breathlessly, before his head fell back panting.

“Put him back on his feet,” Saphira commanded her Pokemon curtly.  

 

Corin wavered a bit when his feet were fully on the ground and rubbed his throat. The Leader saw his eyes dart all across the room, but it was hopeless. There was only one exit, and he would have to go through her and, more impossibly, Haxorus to reach it.

 

“Shit,” he said in a raspy voice. “We could have worked something out.”

“I’m not interested in ‘working something out’.” Saphira snapped. “Where are the Pokemon?”

“What Pokemon? Those you watched me auction without bidding a single time? I’d have given you a discount, too.”

“Yeah, right, you’ve turned into a straight seller. You’ve taken the money somewhere, sure, but you would never sell them all these wonderful mons.”

“For this much money, sweetheart, I’d do anything. Did you even count how much it was? Tell you what: it was so much that I could give you a million and not feel the loss.”

 

For Corin, who had a soft spot for grand profligacy, this didn’t mean much.

 

“I don’t give a fuck about the money, Corin. Where are the Pokemon?”

“Why do you care? You have plenty of good ones on your own.”

“The fire-types?” she dropped her voice, which only made her sound more dangerous and more furious. “They’re my little sister’s.”

“I don’t have them,” Corin repeated, his voice shakier, making sure to let his unease show through.

 

He knew Saphira from long ago, and he knew how unbalanced she could be. Any false move, anything…

The worst was that, first, she was right, and second, she was – had been for a long time – strong enough to swat him aside and not notice. There was only one way he could salvage this situation. 

 

“I’m curious, though. How did you recognize me?” he questioned.

“I don’t know who you were impersonating, but your footsteps were too light. And I remember your fingers. Then, I realized someone like you wouldn’t have any issues switching some Pokeballs.”

“Why would I take such a stupid risk?”

“Then why did you come back here?” she snapped back.

“But to see you, of course!” he smiled manically. “It’s been a while.”

 

Perhaps too much.

 

“You’re stalling, Corin.” Saphira accused him. “This doesn’t have to be complicated. You keep the money, I get the –“

 

The floor of the room shook, as something hit it and exploded. Saphira’s reflexes kicked in before she even knew it, and she was rolling behind a table, protecting herself from the shock wave.

 

She thought she was going to have a heart attack when her brain checked back in, as she could feel keen claws pressing the delicate skin of her neck, belonging to a humanoid shape right behind her. She narrowed her eyes at the serene Corin, braced against the wall.

 

“Zoroark, if the Haxorus does anything to me, kill her,” Corin ordered, in a cold voice briefly piercing the friendly mask.

 

Lost!

 

The dismayed realization shot through her mind. She had thought she held all the cards, but she had fallen to an old trick she should have remembered. Typical Corin… or Lasker, too. But she doubted that the former had been the latter’s agent. He valued his independence far too much.  

 

“It’s okay, Haxorus,” she commanded wearily. “Don’t do anything for now.”

 

“As you know, we need to hurry before they come to find out what happened. Here’s the deal you’re going to take: you’re here to get these mons, so you have a way out. We both get out. And because I’m so fond of you, I’m giving you a Pokeball of your choice.”

 

“And if I don’t?” she sneered defiantly.

 

“If I were you,” Corin retorted pleasantly, “I wouldn’t waste precious time like this. More on the point, you do as I say, or you die, one way or another.”

 

Saphira went red, almost blinded with burning rage. She convulsed violently, trying to get free of the Zoroark’s grasp on her throat, but all she achieved was to feel the claws digging in her neck, just enough not to draw blood. The Haxorus grunted threateningly at Corin.

 

“Last warning, Saphira,” the thief urged her. “Call Haxorus back on the count of three. Or Zoroark kills you. Be sensible. You can always chase me later. But if you don’t let me go, then you die and you’ll have lost your sister’s Pokemon forever. One,” he lifted a long, thin, nimble finger.

 

Who would have thought that he’d end up giving this order? They had had so much fun together, not so long ago. They had managed a few big shots – his plans, his disguise, her strength, her ability to think on her feet – back when she had been an enforcer whose free-lancing tendencies were tolerated. 

 

With a very slow, very controlled motion, as if to ascertain that she wasn’t in a nightmare, her glare still irate enough to trigger nuclear meltdowns, she drew the Haxorus’s Pokeball.

 

“Good,” Corin nodded patronizingly. “Now, the getaway.”

 

Already a dimmed concert footsteps seemed to rush through the facility. The plan she had counted on wouldn’t work if they came close enough to engage them. They would surround the room, block escape with Imprison, set up a Trick Room perimeter to expose the sneak attacks – only then would they start breaking through the walls and attacking from all sides. Saphira was good, but she wouldn’t survive such a coordinated, carefully organized assault. They only had a little time, less than two minutes.

 

“Saphira?” Corin urged her, his composure slipping.  

 

The Charizard that she called out immediately made a beeline for the impudent Pokemon that dared threaten its mistress. But the Zoroark was ready and simply dug its claws just a little bit more, drawing a little red line on Saphira’s throat.

 

“Let’s make things clear once and for all, Charizard.” Corin severely said. “You attack me, Saphira dies. You attack Zoroark, Saphira takes the shot. Is that clear?”

 

How dared he! Saphira felt like screaming. He was using her as a human shield against her own Pokemon! He was going to pay for that.

 

“Dragon Dance,” she forced her voice to be even.

 

Corin was right, however furious this fact made her. There was no happy ending for her than the one he would be delivering. He held all the cards. Her escape plan was already very risky – and it was nearly suicidal for her to carry it out restrained. But she had no choice.

 

The Charizard was keeping its threatening focus on Corin, even as it was drawing power, as the thief in his mid-twenties made a few quick steps until he found himself behind the counter, picked up a fabric bag, its bottom curved by the weight of many balls.

 

So simple! Saphira cursed herself. How had she not puzzled it out? She had to be senile. Already.

 

The footsteps had become louder and were close to the room. They were almost out of time.  

 

But Saphira was willing to bet they had overlooked how their security could be punched through – with a devastating, flashy and almost literal uppercut. A bold move underground, where it could start a very revealing earthquake, or worse, an uncontrolled collapse, but a piece of cake in a more air-filled world.

 

“Flare Blitz!” she shouted in a hoarse voice as the feedback blazed through the Mega Ring, feeding a surge of overwhelming rage in her mind and a violent convulsion through her body against the will, power, and scorching hot aura that were transmitted to the fiery dragon.

 

Red light started surrounding the stamping dragon. It roared in challenge, as its shape blurred, owing as much to the overwhelming surge of Mega Evolution power as to the sudden heating of the air surrounding it. Propelled by the first burst of its newfound power, it shot up through the ceiling with a searing shock wave without even slowing down.

 

“Remarkable,” Corin commented admiringly. “Now, you’re going to call your Charizard back. Alright?”

 

Saphira’s breathing steadied as she obeyed her smiling former ally with a heavy heart, mastering her ire’s death drive, willing to compromise to fight another day.

 

“See?” Corin said with a smile, taking a Pokeball off his pocket, as the gang was starting to attack the walls.

 

Then his Gyarados bounced him out of the building, while he took his Zoroark back, as the walls started giving way.

 

 

*

 

 

Riding a Flygon, Saphira dived towards Arclight, who had just been let go before Corin’s Zoroark triggered the security and sent the building in lockdown.

 

“What was that?” he asked, concerned at her murderous face. “What happened?”

“Not here,” she urged him. “Climb on Dragonite.”

 

He noted the absence of any extraneous Pokeballs on her, which meant they had failed.

Worse, her hurry meant that their attempt had been detected, which was even worse.

 

 

*

 

 

Once the Gyarados had bounced him out of the facility, Corin found it easy to fade into the maze of small streets of the Peridot Ward. He felt like cackling with glee. Not only did he have an eight-digit sum of money, he also had got hold of so many great Pokemon! A Volcarona that he was dying to find more about – starting with where in Reborn it could have come from; of course, the big Salamence and the Landorus – not that he intended to indulge in his curiosity just above the city. And so many more!

 

Things had started off at a great pace with that delightful fellow Ace, but even his wildest dreams hadn’t suggested the magician would be so useful to him!

 

Because Ace may have been the better card trickster, but they shouldn’t have trusted the drinks that Corin had prepared for them. Afterwards, it had been only routine to impersonate them, sneak a big bag of empty balls into the facility, set it up behind the counter, with Zoroark to cover it up – a passive illusion in a dark place out of sight, a foolproof disguise without anything telltale signs. And then, the big switcheroo. Fifty times in a row, flawlessly.

 

Am I good, or am I good?

 

It’d have been a lot easier with Ace, of course. They’d have hacked the machine and gone with the actual balls even before the sale started. What a shame that they had been so straight, even coming from Team Meteor. Poor fellow, he realized with amused compassion. They’d wake up with a little headache, they wouldn’t realize that nine figures’ worth of angry money would be coming after them to deliver pain beyond anyone’s worst nightmares.

 

But why did it matter? There was only one game in town, and it was survival; if you tried to play and fail – who was to blame? Who had set the rules? He certainly hadn’t.

 

Still, he felt bad. He’d have to give a few thousands to the old priest who, however shady, was trying to dabble in philanthropy in these predatory parts. 

 

Corin didn’t notice at once when he was not alone any more.

 

“Hello, handsome,” a graceful, long silhouette in a white dress muttered in his ear. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

 

All the blood seemed to leave Corin’s face as his bag, filled with Pokeballs stolen from thieves, started moving of its own volition.

 

 

*

 

5.30 pm

 

 

 

“So we got nothing,” Arclight grimly concluded at Saphira’s curt, and annoyed account, when they were able to find a safe place to meet, in the ground floor of the Department Store that nobody would dare attack. And we’re busted. And this Lasker guy is going to kill us for this.

“Not quite,” Saphira corrected. “I know who has them. I can probably figure out where he is. The problem is, I missed this shot, but I’m going to need your help even more for the other thing.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.” Arclight replied. “Unless you have a real plan this time instead of randomly barging in like that.”

 

Saphira suppressed an urge to mount Arclight’s head on Dell’s sting, because it would be proving his point. Instead, she glared silently at him for a second, then made her mind. She had a deal, and however much she hated it, she was going through with it. With or without this ally that she hadn’t counted upon anyway.

 

“Excuse me,” a dramatic whisper with a hint of amusement blew at her face, “but I believe that someone is waiting for you outside.”

 

Gossip Gardevoir – the Gossip Gardevoir – was standing in front of both of them, chucking softly at Arclight’s face that seemed to be bursting open with questions and Saphira’s stormy eyes.

 

Saphira rushed outside with a foreboding. Arclight followed her, driven by curiosity, ignoring the satisfied chuckle of Radomus’s talking Pokemon. Outside, a pallid Corin – in his auctioneer garb – was trembling on his legs, barely able to stand. His hand that was holding a large fabric bag full of Pokeballs was certainly shaking hard enough to create a tornado at the other end of the world.

 

Arclight stared at Saphira taking violently the bag off Corin, at the thief’s limp fall like that of a puppet whose strings nobody was holding any more, and at Gossip Gardevoir who had no reason to meddle in an affair she couldn’t possibly have known about.

 

What the hell was actually going on?