《The Dark Type Ranger (Pokémon) (Zoroark)》


 Chapter 1: You Are What You Eat

    "Whoever fights monsters should take care that he does not become one himself-"


    -Friedrich Nietzsche


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    I am getting bothered by the light emanating from this flying metal object. It illuminates the dark forest too much and its constant circling disrupts my focus, preventing me from creating illusions in my territory. I growl in annoyance at the object, but it doesn''t seem to heed my warning.


    I can tell that the metal shell is lifeless, yet it moves erratically under the influence of my prey''s Aura. However, the gnawing pain of starvation distracts my attention to more pressing matters.


    As I eat, I continue to observe the strange flying metal device with caution. It seems to be flying aimlessly around me, but my instincts tell me that something is not right. It shouldn''t be moving when the being that animated it is no longer alive.


    As I finish devouring the last bits of my prey, I notice a sudden change in the motion of the metal device circling me. The metal object, which was previously orbiting around me in a gentle and steady manner, suddenly starts spinning erratically at a high speed. As a result, bright and soundless eruptions of aura begin to gush out of it, making the surroundings as bright as the noonday sun and causing discomfort to my eyes.


    As I stand still, a bright aura forms around me, and suddenly, countless energy nails rain down on me, penetrating my fur and skin. However, instead of feeling physical pain, I am overwhelmed by a surge of emotions that hit me like a powerful wave, shattering my thoughts and feelings like a sandcastle before the tide.


    As soon as I become aware of the danger posed by the seemingly harmless device, it is already too late for me to escape. I am immobilized and unable to move my limbs. My face hits the ground and I feel the invasive energy penetrate deep into the core of my being. It feels like countless slimy eels wriggling their way inside me, searching for a place to hide.


    After the bombardment ceases, the aura that had already taken over my body continues to writhe like a living flame, burning through me. I''m unsure of how much time has passed until the flood of aura finally settles and merges with my own life energies. Once the ordeal is over, my scattered thoughts ease as the two energies begin to coalesce and reduce the internal pressure in my body.


    The metal device that I now somehow know as a Capture Styler hovers beside me. It spins innocently in the air beside me as it bleeds off residual momentum from the aura burst.


    As I see the capture styler powering down, I let out a sigh of relief and collapse on my back with trembling limbs. Through the leafy canopy above, I notice a few bright lights, and when I realize what they are, my breath catches in my throat.


    The grandeur of the cosmos has been amplified by a series of revelations that are flooding my mind one by one. Now, I comprehend that stars are born from the vibrant clouds known as nebulas. I understand that the laws that dictate a star''s graceful movement across the sky are the same ones that govern the fall of an apple from a tree. In the grand scheme of the universe, we are nothing more than tiny specks of dust.


    I find joy in knowing that many of those stars resemble the Sun, and have their own solar systems with planets orbiting around them in the vast and infinite darkness of space. Unintentionally, I lift my clawed digits towards those twinkling lights, and curl them as if I could grasp one of those distant stars in my hand.


    I notice a quiet thump coming from the capture styler, and I see that it has lost its battle with gravity. The metal device spins on the ground like a child''s toy before settling on the dead leaves beside me. In a similar manner to the way the stars are revealed, I understand that the beauty I see in the world is colored by someone else''s perspective of the world.


    At the summit of my euphoria, I slip down a mountain of regret as fragmented memories percolate into my mind''s eye.


    A name echoes in my head like an unheard whisper- Dustin Smith, a frontier ranger of the Unova region whose life I ended earlier tonight.


    Dustin was orphaned during the first Interregional War and was unwillingly drafted into the last great war. However, he served his region with honor and distinction. In his later years, he devoted himself to the newly forming International Pok¨¦mon League with the hope of preventing another great war.


    As a Ranger for the Pok¨¦mon League, he volunteered for the most dangerous jobs. He ventured deep into unexplored areas of his region so that the younger generation would not have to risk their lives.


    Dustin was a man whose years of service helped break the darkness of the previous warring era, and he was a man I had killed for no other reason than I was hungry, and he was there.


    A rustling from the underbrush pulls me from my introspection and what I spot within the dense bushes are two familiar pairs of green eyes that mirror my own.


    My young ones looked at me with pleading eyes, their hunger apparent. They had run away when I started fighting with the ranger, but now that the Capture Styler had stopped circling, they had come back to me.


    Since they were not yet old enough to hunt for themselves, they were as starved as I was. It was heart-wrenching to see their ribs showing through their fur. We had all been close to starvation after being forced to travel far away from my old territory.


    I notice the piles of clothes and scattered ranger gear, then I spot one of Dustin''s Pokeballs that I know carries his Kirlia. My natural instinct is to reach for it to feed my kits, but I stop myself with a self-directed growl of anger. Shaking my head, I start searching through a tattered cargo pouch containing condensed Poke food rations.


    Scouting rangers always carry a small amount of food in case of emergencies or for long patrols. I open the can and check its freshness by smelling and tasting it. Once I''m sure it''s safe to eat, I call my two waiting kits and let them know it''s time to eat. They run towards me with excitement, and I give each of them a large cube of condensed food from the available cans.


    As I lay my head on the ground beside my family, I watched them devour their food blocks with great enthusiasm. However, my thoughts wandered back to my situation, and I began to feel like a monster. I had almost fed my children with someone''s Kirlia, and now I was stealing supplies from the league.


    Theories of how Dustin''s memories were implanted circulate in my head. It likely had to do with the way the capture styler had been in use when he died. The fact that I''d¡­eaten the body also probably played a part in that. Thoughts on how to test the phenomena start to pop up, but I shoot them down a second after they enter my mind.


    ''Arceus, the next thing I know, I''ll be raiding orphanages just to try to make my kits like me.''


    I shake my head at the horrifying thought. I wanted the best for my children, but that didn''t mean I wanted to become the kind of monster that I now find myself as. This intelligence I possess now scares me, and I know it will scare the Pok¨¦mon League even more.


    The worst part is that I now realize that Dustin was just trying to capture me, not invade my territory like I originally thought. If only I had been a little slower, I could have enjoyed the easy life that comes with human companionship.


    Living as a wild Pok¨¦mon is a difficult existence, and my two remaining offspring are a constant reminder of this fact. Even being a test subject seemed like a better option compared to the cruelties of nature. However, I didn''t want my offspring to be test subjects either. But what other options did we have? Was it possible for me to provide them with a better life than they would find in a lab?


    As I ponder over my choices, various paths appear in my mind and I weigh the merits and drawbacks of each one. One option is to pretend to be human by employing illusions, but the facade might be exposed sooner than later. I''m not even sure if I can imitate human speech convincingly, or if any psychic human on the street could easily detect my non-human nature.


    I attempted to speak like a human, but my voice sounded like a growling rasp due to the struggle of my tongue against my teeth.


    "ShE sElLS sEa sHells bY tHe Sea ShOre." Oh great, I sound like a horror movie monster too, that''s just¡­ fantastic.


    ''I may not be physically able to speak human language due to the shape of my mouth and vocal cords, but I could still mimic it to some extent,'' I thought in frustration.


    I turned my gaze towards my kits and let out a snort of amusement as they continued to chew on the food blocks I had given them while simultaneously tilting their heads and perking up their ears in curiosity over the strange sounds I had just made for no reason.


    As I pull my kits in closer to groom them, plans of living like a hermit on the fringes of society idly pass me by, but the problem is that that sort of life also feels short-sighted. One day, my children would grow up, and their instincts would have them leave my side.


    My children would be beholden to their instincts, and I doubted my current circumstances could be repeated so easily. Even if it were possible, I doubt the Pok¨¦mon league would take kindly to a species of Pok¨¦mon that could pose such an existential threat to humanity.


    It hurt to accept, but deep down, I knew my offspring would have to remain as they are. I couldn''t think of a way around that fact that didn''t involve throwing away all other moral considerations.


    ''I don''t want to be a monster'', I think to myself, acknowledging the hard truth of the situation. Still, I have a plan to ensure my kits have the best chance at a safe and happy life. It will require some trickery on my part, but I am confident in my ability to pull it off.


    With this new plan forming in my mind, I gather up pieces of Dustin''s ranger equipment and fasten them to myself with the remains of the ranger uniform I hadn''t chewed through.


    I reach over to attach the capture styler to its holster on my belt, and a shaft of starlight catches on my new clothes. In the faint light, I can see that my Ranger Uniform is covered in blood stains and looks like it''s about to fall apart. But with a wave of my hand, ribbons of dark illusion weave into a cloak around my body, matching the color and texture of the uniform and making it appear pristine.


    As a result, my own appearance now looks identical to Dustin Smith''s, just as he had been a few hours ago.


    Finding two empty Pokeballs in Dustin''s pockets, I decided to toss them towards my children. Unaware of their true purpose, they attempted to bite the red and white spheres, thinking the objects to be more food, only to be trapped a moment later.


    I carefully place my hand on the two newly occupied Dusk balls and secure them to my back, right where my spine and waist meet. That area feels instinctively safe, protected by my shaggy red mane and concealed from danger under an illusionary layer.


    I can see memories from the past when these two young Pok¨¦mon were small enough to hide in my hair. They used to fall asleep nestled in the thickest parts of my red locks. However, it dawns on me that this would be the last time I could carry them like this, and it fills me with sadness.


    I couldn''t help but smile, despite the somberness of the situation. Both my illusionary projection and my real face cracked a smile as I felt the trust flowing through the Pokeballs. Although they didn''t understand what was happening, my kits knew they were safe with me. I was determined to do everything in my power to give them a better life, even if it meant enduring any hardships with a smile on my face.


    Having fully solidified my plan of action, I take out the Ranger''s Capture Styler and activate the Pokedex function while ensuring that the device has no signal. I scan my kit''s pokeballs and realize that my species is unregistered in the international archive saved on the device''s hard drive. This doesn''t come as a surprise to me.


    That fact is not shocking to me at all; I can easily imagine my species hanging on the edge of extinction. It was a small miracle that I''d ever even found a female of my species to begin with. It was another miracle that the only female kit of my mate''s litter had survived to this point as well.


    Pushing aside the painful memories, I focus on my plan to infiltrate a ranger base and secure a better future for my children. A part of me wishes to blame Dustin for my decision to give myself to the league, as he deserved better than to go unavenged after all the sacrifices he had made throughout his life. However, the truth is that I believed a life as a lab Rattata was fitting for a monster like me.


    I wouldn''t be able to hurt anyone else, and if I''m lucky, I could satiate this human curiosity that now burns at the back of my mind. How did I come to be as I am? Would I lose my sapience over time or is it permanent? What would using a TM feel like? What did the inside of a Pokeball look like?


    In modern Science-fiction media, Pokemon with true sapience are referred to as aura intelligences (AI), stories involving which have a common trope where the subject would rebel against humanity.


    I, on the other hand, have no intention of rebelling against humanity. I just want food, a soft bed and for my kits to survive into adulthood. So unless I get sold to Orre, I am just fine with whatever the league has in store for me once I''m in their possession.


    But before that, I''d have a bit of fun seeing how far into Ranger security I could penetrate before being caught. If all goes well, I should be able to transfer my kits somewhere nice before being subdued by the Rangers.


    It also helps that this is the Unova region, where the political climate heavily favors Pok¨¦mon rights and anti-abuse laws thanks to Unova''s desire to politically distance itself from its western neighbor, the Orre region, to the international community.


    In the distance, the distinct low droning buzz of a Heracross''s wings catches my attention. My breath catches in instinctive fear, and my heart pounds as the embodiment of death grows closer.


    As I rummaged through my new outfit, I stumbled upon a metal cylinder of Max Repel in my front right cargo pocket. However, it was quite challenging for me to handle the can with my three-clawed hands. Nevertheless, I found a solution quickly enough.


    Though I almost dropped the can on the ground, I managed to remove the protective plastic cap from the can using my sharp teeth, albeit shakily.


    I took a deep breath and prepared myself before spraying a thick cloud of Pok¨¦mon repellent all over my face and body. The scent was extremely strong and made my eyes water, blurring my vision. I stopped breathing for about 30 seconds before gasping for air, almost coughing.


    I''m relieved as the sound of buzzing bug wings fades away from my hearing range. I try to shake off the clingy smell of repellant, but it''s not working. The repellant smells like being sprayed by a skuntank and I know it''ll linger on me for hours.


    ''Ugh, why did I think that was a good idea?'' I think disappointedly while pulling out the capture styler from its holster once again.


    Tabbing through the list of menus, the map function springs to life, illuminating a large radius of the dark forest around me. A multilayered topographical display extends holographically out of the screen, and I take a moment to locate the nearest Ranger outpost.


    With another click, the Capture styler enters idle mode, and I place it back in its holster. The capture styler was a godsend when dealing with the unexplored frontiers.


    After taking one last look at the forest clearing that used to be my home, I approach the nearest tree. I use my sharp claws to carve an epitaph on the bark of the tree. After a moment of silence, I stretch my legs and quickly launch myself into the night like an arrow.


    My body moves with such ease and fluidity that it feels like my joints and tendons are now made of steel cables and carbon fiber. It''s almost as if my body has undergone a transformation along with my mind, making me faster and more agile than ever before.


    For now, it''s just another item to add to the list of things I don''t understand about my situation.


    I am moving at an incredible speed, but there is no sound or trace of my movement. My experience of living in the wilderness and being a Pok¨¦mon ranger for over a decade comes together perfectly in my mind.


    I skillfully avoid any wild Pok¨¦mon and move through the dense underbrush with ease, darting through the forest like a leaf being blown by a hurricane.


    In no time, I have traveled around twenty-four kilometers through the forest and finally see the floodlights that mark the Western Unovan Ranger outpost perimeter.


    The grass around my feet tears into pieces as my claws dig furrows into the ground, stopping my wild charge just short of the light. My gaze lingers on the floodlights for a tad longer than I mean to as my curiosity gets the better of me.


    I wonder how such devices were even possible. But as soon as I start thinking about it, my mind gets flooded with a flurry of information - from the use of metal filaments to electrical current resistance, production of heat and light, inert gas containment, to the manufacturing of the glass bulb. It''s like falling into a mental rabbit hole.


    Shaking off the intrusive yet fascinating knowledge, I refocus my attention on the pristine ranger facade and walk into the light.


    The dark cover of the forest glides off my back like a discarded cloak just as the blinding lights lock onto my position¡ªthe automated illumination acting as an effective first line of defense for most light-sensitive Nocturnal Pok¨¦mon.


    I walked deeper into the open area and felt the infrared light shining on me, creating a rainbow-like effect that humans wouldn''t be able to see. The hidden scanners couldn''t detect any issues with my disguise. Suddenly, my capture styler vibrated, indicating a message from the base as I regained a single bar of signal.


    As I walk, I reach for the device on my belt and notice an automated notification from the outpost''s security system. The message reads: "Dustin Smith confirmed returning from patrol. Welcome home, Ranger." Although I feel a sense of relief seeing the automated reply, it also reminds me that very few people are awake and active within the base at this hour, which is not surprising.


    Walking through the rest of the security perimeter unhindered, I reach the looming metal door that acts as the base''s front entrance. A casual observer might mistake the door for a bank vault''s entrance, but this is what the bare minimum constituted for a ranger base on the frontiers.


    The large metal frame ominously opens, moving silently with the help of industrial pneumatics. I enter through the opening with ease, and the door swiftly closes behind me.


    Without giving much attention to the night-shift personnel posted at the security terminal, I walk past them. They are accustomed to fatigued rangers returning from patrols and do not bother to stop me.


    As I wander through the empty hallways, my eyes come across a wall map that displays arrows pointing towards different areas within the base. The map was likely intended for visiting ace trainers or league auditors, but I promptly used it to find the Interregional Trade terminals that I needed for my plan.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    After a short walk, I finally arrived at the interregional trade area. The room seemed to be sparsely decorated and consisted of rows of high-end computers. No one else was present, and all the lights were dimmed due to the inactivity of the place.


    Although I''m not bothered by the darkness, I still wave my hand at the motion sensor on the wall to activate the lights. As I sit down, I sink into the comfortable seat while the shiny, silver-cased PC automatically connects me to the global trade system (GTS). With the aura-linked identification system in the Ranger Styler on my belt, I can quickly access what I need without even requiring passwords.


    The GTS is one of many borderline magical technologies that the world benefits from now that the great war was over. I am lucky insofar as the international Pok¨¦mon league has just established links between Indigo and Unova not too long ago.


    I just realized something that''s been bothering me. I''ve been able to use Dustin Ranger''s styler without any difficulty, but this shouldn''t be possible. Aura signatures are unique to each person, like a fingerprint for the soul. Normally, security measures rely on the fact that aura signatures can''t be faked.


    I''m starting to wonder if I somehow absorbed Dustin''s soul, which is deeply unsettling. Is it even possible for a ranger styler to bridge souls like that? And if it is, why hasn''t this happened before? Other rangers have died while on the job, so why am I the exception?


    Either way, it would be a conversation to have with the nice scientists I''d likely be meeting after my mission here was done.


    Breaking my thoughts away from my newest existential crisis, I browse the contact lists for viable Pok¨¦mon transfer locations.


    ''This is it. There''s no turning back now. Whatever happens tonight, I leave it in the hands of Arceus to decide my fate,'' I pray silently.


    After logging in, I used Dustin''s veteran Pok¨¦mon Ranger credentials to force authorize two emergency transfers. One transfer would be sent directly to the Unovan royal family while the other would be sent to a private server belonging to Samuel Oak, a former league champion and war hero who later became a professor about a decade ago.


    I made the decision to not send both of my offspring to the same location. Even before my mate''s death, we instinctually knew not to put all our eggs in one basket. The only reason any of our offspring had survived to this day was because my mate and I split our litter between the two of us.


    Consecutive High-profile transfers like this would bring trouble down on me in minutes since I did not have pre-approval to perform these transfers. I would likely be flagged in the GTS immediately after and then be swarmed by the Rangers on base. I''m sure they were going to ask me some very pointed questions, and I''d be happy to answer them after my kits were safely away.


    I had some trust in the league''s ethics committee, but Dustin had witnessed the atrocities committed by humanity when they had enough justification. The possibility of a Pok¨¦mon species with intelligence beyond what we had seen before was significant enough for me to want to be cautious and weigh my options.


    Before completing the transaction, I decided to send two small messages containing detailed information about my species. I even attached the pokedex scans that I had conducted earlier. The messages included everything I could think of, from their preferred foods to theoretical domestication guidelines, physiology profiles, and evolutionary expectations.


    It feels almost wrong to give THE Pok¨¦mon professor a dossier like this, but I can''t resist. I''m pretty sure he''s never seen my species before, especially since the national dex in my ranger capture styler doesn''t have any data on us. However, I want to make sure I cover all my bases.


    I may be overly paranoid, but I''ve decided to send my two kits to two different locations. I just want to ensure their safety. Hopefully, they will have the opportunity to live long and happy lives away from the dangers of the wild. They could either become exotic pets for the Unovan Royal family or well-cared-for subjects in a world-renowned laboratory.


    After the transfers are complete, I take a deep breath to calm myself down. The disguise I had been wearing to look human disappears, revealing my true identity. The new Ranger uniform I was wearing turns back into the old, worn-out outfit that was stained with blood. When the computer screen turns off, I see a reflection of my monstrous appearance in the monitor.


    I have to reluctantly accept that I demonstrated today how dangerous my species can be. It was almost too easy to breach some of the world''s best security measures. However, I hope that my worth as a scientific asset will outweigh the fear my existence may cause.


    As a newly sapient being, I am also driven by curiosity and I want to understand myself better, just like humans do. I don''t have to conform to the monstrous image often portrayed in fictional horror stories about rogue aura intelligence''s.


    As I wait for the expected security alert, I unconsciously scratch at the blood on my crimson claws. It makes me ponder about my species and the reason for the red accents on our bodies and fur. Is it a way to signal danger to potential predators?


    With a digital Bing, I look back at the PC screen, and Just as expected, the transfers did not go unnoticed by the regulatory agencies assigned to monitor Pok¨¦mon trafficking. It was not surprising given the high-profile destinations I had sent my kits to. Despite this, I did not attempt to flee and instead remained seated, waiting for the inevitable consequences. The base was already on lockdown, and I had unknowingly revealed my identity to the camera located in one of the corners of the room.


    All that waited to be seen now was how the League would react to the first documented instance of a truly sapient Pok¨¦mon outside of old fairytales.


    Worst case scenario, I would die here. I didn''t plan to resist capture, so that worst-case scenario seemed unlikely. My stolen thought patterns seemed to think I''d end up in some dark cell, which was¡­ actually quite appealing now that I thought about it.


    I know it might sound bad to some people, but to me, it sounded like a great new home. Whatever happens to me, it will still be better than my previous living conditions. At least I won''t have to worry about being eaten by an invasive Scyther swarm like my mate, and three other kits had been.


    The cavalry arrived just two minutes after the transfers were sent, which was quite impressive given the late hour. A pair of heavily armored assault Rangers entered, with a blue-haired woman scowling between them. I assumed she was the captain of the base, based on the rank insignia on her uniform.


    I can actually smell the powerful psychic energy emanating from her. The pale blue shimmer of psychic power roiling just under her skin. Her purple eyes meet my own inhuman greens. Even at a glance, she can see a spark of something in my eyes and demeanor that immediately disturbs her.


    A Pokeball suddenly appears in the air, propelled by a psychic force, and unleashes a massive Galvantula before I even have a chance to react. As the electric spider Pok¨¦mon appears, an electric field builds up in the air, causing the hair on my body to stand on end. The Galvantula''s lifeless predatory gaze fixates on me, sending shivers of fear down my spine as I am unable to look away from the monstrous creature.


    The captain shouts something at me but I completely miss what she asks as I fight my instincts to run for my life. All I can do is note the telltale scrunching of her eyebrows as confusion further invades her harsh demeanor as my silence and inaction continue.


    The radiance of psychic energy flashes behind her irises once again, causing a rippling of air to surround me, pulling at my tattered uniform yet finding little purchase as her psychokinesis loses power proportional to its proximity to my body.


    As her attack fails, she quietly speaks into a radio attached to her shirt collar. Unbeknownst to her, I hear her words as clearly as the people on the other end of the line.


    "Category 2 Psychic resistance, all Pokeballs registered to Dustin Smith within transmat range have been transferred to HQ. I''m not detecting any ghost energy either. Whatever the fuck this thing is Galvantula is detecting a lot of human blood alongside a heavy dose of max repel. Best guess is an attempt to mask its scent."


    "I don''t like this new species. There''s something off about it. I wonder if Rocket is behind it. Only those jerks would use an unregistered Pok¨¦mon to infiltrate a Ranger base and send something back to Kanto." She growled to the person on the other end of the line.


    I made eye contact with her and answered her question by slowly shaking my head in the negative. She practically gaped at my motions as she realized I had replied to her remark about Team Rocket.


    "I don''t know how you are remotely controlling this Pok¨¦mon, but whoever you are, I want you to KNOW that you will pay for what you''ve done." She states with icy calm.


    I made the mistake of shrugging at her incorrect assumptions, which wasn''t the best response. In response, she angrily signaled the two armored guards beside her to release a set of Duosion.


    The only exit to the room is locked down by powerful psychic barriers that also shield the humans from any potential damage. The captain silently commands her bug companion, a Galvantula, to act. In response, the Galvantula launches a crackling net of electrified spider silk towards me with lightning speed.


    As the room narrows to pinpricks, I feel a sense of tunnel vision. My ingrained survival instincts force me to dodge the giant bugs'' attack, but I am still a fraction too slow. The sticky webbing grazes my leg and pins me to the floor. Soon after, my muscles are paralyzed by a heart-stopping electrical discharge. I try to suppress the cry of pain but end up voicing hoarse expletives as the giant spider sends more electrical impulses through the connected web.


    "Gah! Arceus damn it. I surrender, I surrender." I managed to say, finding the electric spider to be a great motivator to pronounce the words as best I can.


    Despite feeling enraged by the unprovoked attack, I managed to suppress my anger. I realized that to the rangers who witnessed me, I probably looked like a creature straight out of a horror movie. After all, my clothes were stained with blood and had ragged holes throughout. To be fair, my actions that day were quite frightening, much like a horror movie monster.


    "W-what the fuck, did it just speak?" One of the supporting ranger''s stammers.


    Despite sensing their fear, I resist the urge to attack and remain crouched on all fours on the floor. The captain, who has blue hair, looks at me coldly and takes note of the bloodstains on my ranger uniform. She seems to be the only one keeping her composure in this situation.


    "Wait, this isn''t some form of esoteric remote control, is it? What the hell are you?" She asks cautiously


    "I don''t know. I was hoping the league could tell me, but I''ll happily leave if this is the way I''m going to be treated." I say sarcastically


    Everyone freezes as they realize the enormity of the situation before them.


    There have been no evidence of a Pok¨¦mon with true human-level intelligence. In the past, different regions had stories about humans possessing a partner Pok¨¦mon with human-like intelligence. However, modern individuals are too skeptical to believe in these tales, and most of these accounts have been proven false with the discovery of more accurate historical records. Although several fairytales exist, they hold no credibility in the present world.


    The most famous example of this is Sir Aaron''s Lucario companion, who was believed to possess the ability to communicate like a human through aura speech.


    "You understand that we can''t let you go, right?" The captain says slowly


    I shrug again and roll my claws in a ''yes, yes, get on with it'' gesture, not bothering to irritate my throat with further human speech.


    I can see the shifting of metal gears as the captain processes my apparent submission.


    "All right, well then. I''m just going to use this if you don''t mind. It will make things a lot less complicated if you don''t resist." The Captain says carefully while holding up a standard-issue Ultra ball. Its signature black and yellow coloration gleamed immaculately under the bright florescent lighting of the room.


    I bow my head as the ball hits me on the forehead with a dull thwack. The red capture light from the Pokeball flashes into my eyes, causing me to blink reflexively. Transparent red energy surrounds my entire body, washing over me in a pleasantly warm wave. However, nothing happens after that. The ball falls to the ground unceremoniously, and its center button flashes red in an unfamiliar error code pattern as its capture sequence aborts partway through.


    We all stare at the broken capture device in complete silence, unable to believe what had just happened. I felt a bit disappointed as I was curious to see what it was like inside it. I look up with anticipation, wondering what our next move would be. The captors decided to contact the Unovan Ranger headquarters for assistance. Meanwhile, I lay down and let the captain order the terrifying electric spider to wrap me up.


    "I understand, sir. The subject is currently contained and has been cooperative, but all attempts at capture have failed. Based on the information we have, the risk level is classified as Euclid as long as the current containment measures remain effective. The base has been alerted and is currently in lockdown as a precautionary measure. There is circumstantial evidence that suggests one ranger may have been killed, but we have not yet confirmed this. Additionally, the subject has demonstrated the ability to evade our scanners and has managed to infiltrate the base, even up to the level of aura signature verification."


    Unfortunately, the other person on the line is speaking too quietly for me to hear what they''re saying. However, based on the captain''s silence, I believe that Ranger HQ is transferring the call to the league''s research and scientific branches to determine what will happen to me. The captain''s next words confirm my suspicion.


    "Hello, Professor. The subject is compliant, but we haven''t been able to capture it conventionally. I''ll send you the telemetry data we have from the Pokeball. We received an alert from customs a few minutes ago after the transfers were flagged in the system, but we don''t know what was sent through the GTS yet. At this point, we don''t have the jurisdiction to identify what was transferred." The captain with blue hair said, pacing back and forth across the room.


    "I didn''t think to ask, but if you think it''s necessary, I can set up a video call, ma''am," she said, pulling out a half-dome projector with a lens and placing it on the ground in front of my face.


    I hear a faint sound of fans starting up from the small device in front of me. Suddenly, a transparent image of Professor Juniper appears. I remember that she is the foremost Pok¨¦mon expert in the Unova region and extremely skilled at managing unusual situations like the one we are currently in.


    The professor looks at me through the projector''s built-in cameras and says, "Well, aren''t you an interesting one?" She cups her chin in contemplation and asks, "Can you please nod your head three times if you understand me?".


    I nodded to comply with her request, but as I tried to shift into a more comfortable position on the ground, I realized that the sticky silk webbing was preventing me from doing so. Every movement pulled at my fur, making me feel like it was caught in a zipper and evaporating any desire to attempt an escape.


    "Alright, well, that disproves psychic bleed, so we aren''t looking at another Gardevoir situation, at least," the professor muttered to herself.


    I take note of the term ''psychic bleed'' while the professor observes me. After a while, Juniper turns her attention away and receives a data pad from a lab assistant, quickly absorbing its contents.


    "Ah, I understand now," Juniper says with keen interest. "Captain, an air shuttle will arrive shortly to pick up the subject. Have him ready for transport in fifteen minutes; the Research division will take him from you and deliver him to site 6. Based on what I''m seeing here, I don''t think the subject will pose much of a threat from now on, but it''s better to be cautious and keep a bug or fighting Pok¨¦mon guarding it just in case."


    "Got it, ma''am. Can I ask what information was conveyed to you and why you believe it won''t pose any threat to us?" asked the captain cautiously.


    "Well, Professor Oak from Kanto just informed me that he received a mysterious gift from a Unovan Scout ranger a few minutes ago. It''s an adolescent red and black female fox Pok¨¦mon that looks strikingly similar to our friend here. I assume that the Pok¨¦mon transferred its offspring on its own accord. Based on the transfer logs, the Royal Family may have received a similar gift, but I doubt they would confirm or deny the fact anytime soon."


    "I see," the captain says with a salute, turning to look at me for a moment. "The team and I have the situation under control, professor. Thank you for your time."


    "Of course, captain," Juniper replies, before turning to me. "And we''ll be seeing you soon." The professor says cheerfully, although her tone seems to carry an unintentionally ominous undertone. The image of the professor shatters into fragments of rainbow light as the projector powers down.


    The professor''s final words make me realize the gravity of my situation. I am bound and may not be free for a very long time, or perhaps never. The thought of not seeing my kits again fills me with an overwhelming mix of emotions that I can''t seem to shake off.


    It could be grief, anxiety, or fear of the unknown. But I keep reminding myself that sacrificing my freedom is worth it if it means my kits can have a better life than what I could provide them.


    As I felt myself spiraling into a minor panic attack, I suddenly felt a warm touch gliding through the fur along my scalp. The touch brushed up to the top of my head before repeating the pattern in a soothing rhythm. I looked up and saw the blue-haired captain looking down at me. Was she petting me?


    "It''s going to be all right," she said to me soothingly. "This isn''t Orre, you know. I''m sure they''ll treat you fine."


    With a sudden burst of laughter, I let out a single bark and relaxed as she tended to me. "Well, Orre is definitely not the highest standard to beat, but thanks anyway. I appreciate the thought," I said in a low growling tone. We didn''t speak any further, but I was grateful for her quiet company until my ride arrived. It was only when I was in the air that I realized I didn''t even know her name.


    <hr>


    Carved upon a solitary tree in the black forest of the Unova region-


    In some new brain the sleeping dust will waken;


    Courage and love that conquered and were done,


    Called from a night by thought of man forsaken,


    Will know again the gladness of the sun.


    Dustin Smith


    Gone but not forgotten

 Chapter 2: A Light in The Dark

    "All great things must first wear terrifying and monstrous masks in order to inscribe themselves on the hearts of humanity." -Nietzsche


    -Flash Back-


    ?


    A strange feeling overtook us as Kirlia and I ventured into the forest. An unnerving darkness grew at the periphery of our sight, slowly choking out light from the stars above. My Pokenav navigation warned me of signal loss soon after that, and it felt like something was watching us.


    My empathic bond with Kirlia spiked with cold dread as I realized that we could no longer teleport to safety. I searched the canopy for any signs of danger but found nothing.


    My instincts were telling me to run away, but it was already too late when I turned around. The forest around us seemed to have transformed, making it hard to tell which way we had come from. Panic set in as I came to the realization that we were stuck with no way to call for help.


    Following Standard operating procedure, I reach into a jacket pocket to take out a persim berry and take a bite to check myself for mental distortions. Nothing in the scenery changes, so I give Kirlia a mental command to start using ''calm mind'' to prepare us for an ambush that I can feel must be coming. Our bond allows me to experience a secondhand serenity from the empowering move, and I use this fact to center my thoughts.


    In one hand, I pull out my serrated hunting knife from its holster at my hip, and with the other, I brandish the Pok¨¦mon Ranger''s signature capture styler, ready to deploy at a moment''s notice.


    Nothing happens for a long time. Kirlia and I feel the predatory presence of something moving in the dark watching ¨C no stalking us, just waiting for us to turn our backs. Waiting for a perfect moment to strike.


    Once fully powered by ''calm mind,'' I have Kirlia fill the air with a burst of psychic force, causing a momentary ''shock-wave'' to propagate in an expanding sphere around us. This proves to be a wise decision as a distortion not unlike a heat shimmer appears close by. My gaze snaps in its direction, the nearly invisible blur dashing forward with horrifying speed, kicking up leaves in its wake as it sprints for a decisive quick kill.


    Kirlia interposed himself, tanking a deadly red claw swipe to the face. The unknown dark-type''s illusions collapse when Kirlia retaliates with a whirlwind of sharpened branches directed by our telekinesis.


    With the target''s illusion shattered and distracted by pain, I launch the capture styler with my off hand, beginning the capture sequence while at the same time returning Kirlia to stasis before heavy blood loss can set in from the head wound.


    Movement in the underbrush to my left snaps my attention away from the temporarily dazed predatory Pok¨¦mon in front of me.


    I catch sight of what must be two offspring of the Pok¨¦mon before me, and they watch with wide-eyed fear. Half-starved looking and likely not even a year old.


    The capture styler completes its first revolutions in fractions of a second, beginning to form a bond with the dark type Pok¨¦mon. Yet still, the black and red fox regains its bearings, flashing its white fangs at me as it sees me glancing at its offspring. Rage overwhelms the nascent bond between us; it lunges for my throat.


    Before I can react, a terrible pressure sinks into my neck, and then-


    -Crunch-


    ?


    I jolt awake and nearly vomit as the memory of blood in my mouth permeates my mind. I can feel my heart racing uncontrollably within my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. My eyes dart frantically around my enclosure, searching for something. Finally, I catch sight of my neon-green irises reflecting back at me from the reinforced security window.


    After staring at my reflection for a short time, my heart returns to its normal resting pace as the invasive memory fades back into the background. My breathing slows down as I relax back down into my comfortable, oval-shaped doggy bed.


    The fresh memory burns in the back of my mind, branding itself into my consciousness. And like so many other memories, this one brings a fresh wave of guilt. Dropping my head onto the pads of my paws, I huff and carefully rub the sleep from my eyes.


    Dustin had lived so many more years than me, and his memories often threatened to overshadow my own perspective of the world.


    Sometimes I don''t know if I am Dustin the Ranger, trapped in a new form, or a wild Pok¨¦mon with a human consciousness grafted onto me. It''s possible that I am neither or both. In the end, it doesn''t matter since the outcome is the same.


    I am a monster.


    I briefly look down at my red claws. I don''t know exactly how long I''ve been here now, but the sharp points of my claws have dulled since I arrived at this underground research institute.


    I no longer feel the instinctive urge to sharpen them as my food is now handily provided to me on a daily basis. I also don''t enjoy the feeling of scratching everything I touch.


    I yawn stretching my jaws almost 120 degrees before stretching the rest of my limbs, my pile of pillows and blankets shifts around me. A satisfying crackling sound echoes through the room as I twist my spine and reluctantly stand up on two legs to begin the day.


    My room is relatively plain, with four grey walls, a single security door, and a wide rectangular window connecting to an ample lab space. A single person waits patiently through the window at one of the many lab computers.


    During the first few days of my captivity, Professor Juniper created a set of protocols for ensuring my containment. I didn''t know precisely what these protocols are per se, but I know one rule required at least one staff member to be present in the observation room at all times.


    I thought it was unnecessary since my illusions apparently can''t pass through the specialized glass. Even if I made myself invisible on this side of the window, it''s unlikely that someone would be foolish enough to open my enclosure and allow me to escape.


    I understand why they''re cautious since they know how hard it would be to catch me if I ever escaped. However, they fail to realize that I''m just as cautious of myself as they are. I don''t trust myself to not act on some instinct and accidentally hurt someone.


    In addition to my own fears, I have no desire to escape because I actually have a clear sense of purpose in this facility. I can help humanity understand sapience and participate in groundbreaking experiments. Even though I sometimes fantasize about what it would be like to escape, I don''t actually know what I would do with said freedom. At least here, I am certain that my contributions are valued, and I can take some pride in it.


    The researcher currently sitting in the observation lab is a familiar face to me. This man had taken a great interest in my case early on, and I often found him volunteering to supervise my enclosure when no one else was available.


    I''d talked to him so often now that I think he could write my biography if he wanted to.


    I wave at my caretaker to catch his attention, and as I do, I feel grateful as he smiles back at me. He has been a reliable source of support during my time here. He treats me with the care and attention that one would expect to receive as a long-term hospital patient rather than as a potentially dangerous lab specimen.


    I can only imagine the amount of stress and pressure he must be under, considering he must be basically in charge of my mental health. Without his kindness, I''m sure I''d be halfway feral by now just from the stress of being confined for so long.


    "Your heart rate was pretty high there, Echo. Are you doing all right, or would you like me to call in the physician early today?" Richard greets me using my preferred nickname. Diverting his attention away from his PC, he looks me over with a concerned gaze.


    "No, I''m fine for now, Rich. It was just a nightmare from the first night. The one where Dustin and I met." I reply tiredly to the scientist.


    Richard didn''t so much as flinch at my inhumanly deep voice. I''d gotten a lot better at modulating it, but my vocal cords were not designed for speech in the same ways humans were. Unfortunately, this made building lasting relationships with the other staff members assigned to my case difficult.


    All my attempts to form closer relationships with the other researchers had often backfired on me in one way or another.


    The most memorable of which was the time I attempted to use illusions to look human. I remembered that appearances heavily influence human psychology. So, I stupidly tried to appear human to gain some empathy points. The problem was that my illusions, more often than not, triggered something called the ''uncanny valley'' effect.


    This meant that something slightly off about my appearance would make people feel uneasy around me.


    According to some theories, the uncanny valley effect is believed to be an evolutionary adaptation for humans to help avoid things that look like them but are not, in fact, human.


    My kind often used illusions and mimicry to get close to our prey, so the thought that my species might have played a role in this adaptation is not a pleasant one. The selective pressure needed for that kind of adaptation to become almost universal in a population is highly disturbing to contemplate.


    Richard interrupts my morning musings by urging me to inquire about the experiments we had conducted the previous day. One of the many things I admire about Rich was his willingness to share the lab''s research with me, even if what he shared is a watered-down overview.


    "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts there for a moment. So, did Silph provide any updates regarding the most recent Pokeball tests? I am dying to know why they keep failing on me," I ask Richard.


    "We received some fascinating results from Silph just this morning in fact!" Richard replied with a grin as he brought one of his secondary swiveling screens towards me, allowing me to view it through the reinforced observation window.


    "They told me that your unique aura signature is the root cause of the malfunctions. As you may already know, modern Pokeball technology relies heavily on a trainer''s aura to power the Pokeball and to create a bond with the target Pok¨¦mon." I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the simplistic explanation Richard is giving me instead of the actual lab results, but I continue to listen.


    He goes on to explain that the Pok¨¦mon League also uses the unique signature of the trainer''s aura to register which specific Pok¨¦mon belong to each trainer while showing me relevant pictures and articles.


    "If a Pokeball is used on someone else''s Pok¨¦mon, the ball will fail because it''s unable to establish an aura bond to a Pok¨¦mon that already has one. This is why such specialized machines are required for simple Pok¨¦mon trades. The issue with Pokeballs for you is that you register as being bonded to a human. Because you still somehow produce Dustin''s unique aura signature, the Pokeballs think you are already captured." Richard begins while leaning back in his swivel chair


    "Give us a few more weeks to modify one of Dustin''s registered Pokeballs, and we will get you inside one, no problem. You also won''t have to worry about anyone dominating your will like a normal wild capture because of Dustin''s aura''s influence."


    "Hmm, that makes sense; let me know when you''ve got a working prototype then, you know how long I''ve been waiting to see what it''s like inside one of those. On a similar note, are you finally allowed to tell me why I''m able to think and reason like a human? I assume it has something to do with Dustin''s aura, but I don''t know if you''ve confirmed exactly how it happened." I ask


    "The capture styler definitely influenced the reaction that occurred." Richard begins while fiddling with a pen whose ink wouldn''t write on the paper he had off to the side. "The inherited memories you experienced are likely a byproduct of the capture styler''s aura impulse drive and a reaction to the aura imprinting proclivities apparent in your linage." Richard says while managing to draw a complicated set of diagrams on the paper next to him that might be a genealogy tree of some kind.


    "A cross-species hybridization factor might also have occurred. You display some characteristics indicative of two distinct Pok¨¦mon species interbreeding." Upon realizing how lost I was at his explanation, the researcher stumbles for a moment. Nervously clearing his throat and pushing his diagram aside, he continues.


    "Ah, what I mean to say is that your blood work shows evidence of Lucario DNA in your ancestry. It''s even likely that your sire was a Lucario. Lucario, as a species, have a strong affinity to human aura bonds, and you likely inherited this trait. We believe that absorbing Dustin''s aura under the influence of the capture styler''s bond induced a permanent alteration in your own aura not too dissimilar to a capture bond."


    "That brings up another question, then. Is there some aura memory link I''ve never heard about? You seem confident that the memories are because of Dustin''s aura specifically." I ask curiously.


    "Actually, yes, have you ever heard of the Kanto researcher by the name of Dr Fuji?" Richard replies with an excitement only present in those who work at top-secret research centers.


    "I''m sorry, I''m not familiar with that name. He some sort of aura researcher?" I respond with a hint of amusement at my companion''s enthusiasm. Moving closer, I sit by the window and listen attentively, dragging a blanket around my shoulders to keep warm as I prepare for his inevitable monologue.


    "He is a geneticist by profession, but he has made remarkable discoveries regarding the connection between memory, DNA, and aura in humans. He has demonstrated that aura can be used to store and retrieve memories or genetic instructions in cases where either has become damaged."


    "I''d heard that the laws on genetics research in Kanto were lax, especially given the famous Nurse Joy and Officer Jenny case, But I''m still surprised that the ethics committees of that region allowed research into that kind of thing."


    "There are actually many beneficial applications that you might not initially imagine. For example, Dr. Fuji conducted human trials focusing on Alzheimer''s treatments. Through his research, patients were able to regain lost memories via cloned cell injections and thus maintained a healthy mental state for much longer than they otherwise would have." Richard excitedly gestures before continuing.


    "During his research, he demonstrated that aura could be used for memory preservation and restoration. Unfortunately, his research funding was cut short when religious groups protested against what they called ''blasphemous tampering of human souls''. Most mainstream religions believe that aura is a sacred bridge connecting the body and soul, and Dr. Fuji''s discoveries only seemed to reinforce this ideology." Richard gives a wistful sign before continuing.


    "As a result, any research in the field is highly scrutinized nowadays. It''s a shame that Dr. Fuji retired after his daughter''s death. He was probably one of the greatest aura scientists of our time and would have had a field day with your case." Richard trails off while staring off into space.


    "Do you think those religious groups have a point? What does it even mean that I have what is essentially a bridge to Dustin''s soul trapped within me?" I hesitantly ask.


    Richard looks into my eyes, contemplating his response before shrugging.


    "I can''t say for sure, Echo. I''m not much of a spiritual expert, and I don''t really know enough about theoretical aura physics to confidently say one way or another. Why do you ask?" Richard replies somberly.


    "I just feel disgusted with myself each time I learn something new about my nature," I sigh before continuing. "It''s already difficult enough to accept that I killed a ranger, Richard, but it''s even worse to think that I may have stolen what is essentially a piece of his soul," I reply quietly, closing my eyes and leaning against the viewing window.


    Our silent contemplations are interrupted by the sound of the observation room''s door ringing twice. Richard presses a button on his control panel, and another researcher and his assistants enter the observation room from the hallway.


    "Good morning, Richard! How is our favorite test subject doing today? Oh, Echo, you''re up early! Good morning to you too!" The heavily mustached researcher greets us with a big smile.


    This researcher was a recent addition to my case, a neurological scientist recruited by Professor Juniper specifically to study me. He had a boisterous and honest personality that made disliking him very difficult.


    In a playful response to his remark about calling me his ''favorite test subject'', I show him my middle claw. At the same time, I create an illusion around my digit, engulfing it in a mushroom cloud explosion just for dramatic effect.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    "Echo is doing as well as can be expected, Carter, but I would prefer if you didn''t refer to him as a ''test subject'' in front of him," Richard says with a sigh of exasperation.


    "It''s fine, Rich. You know, I don''t really mind. Please tell me you guys are finally going to let me review those new Pokechow blocks like I''ve been requesting?" I beg jokingly. An inhumanly wide smile stretching across my face.


    "Ha ha! Unfortunately, we are not allowed to test that yet. The research board has sadly not given us the approval, but I will bring it up at next week''s meeting. Instead, today, we want you to experiment with some music!" Carter says while leading his interns into the observation room.


    "I don''t want to compromise the double-blinding of the test, but could you please clarify why I am being asked to work with music? Dustin was never musically inclined, so I''m not sure what we intend to accomplish here." I ask, a bit perplexed.


    "That''s exactly why we want to test it out! From our records, Dustin was noted as being entirely tone-deaf, and we want to scan your brain while you play around with some soundboards." Carter begins while helping his assistants move boxes of supplies from the outer corridor.


    "We have a lot of data on what areas of the brain activate in humans when listening to music, but not many Pok¨¦mon are suitable for this kind of test. We want to see if your brain patterns will mimic human electrical signals or if something else interesting will present itself. It may even provide a key to better understanding the link between the brain-aura connection." Richard says with a smile


    "Well, I''m not going to complain. It definitely beats another week of biopsies and blood draws." I grumble good-naturedly


    "Yes, the research board thought a change of pace would be appreciated. Now, please make your way to the right-hand corner of the room so we can set the barriers up and get your new toys situated in your enclosure." The boisterous researcher declares in a mock imperialistic demand


    I give a sloppy salute back to him with a shake of my head and walk towards the far corner of my room. The pressure sensors on the floor verify my location before the barriers activate. One can never be too careful with a Pok¨¦mon that can create illusions.


    Carter and his assistants enter my enclosure through the now-unlocked metal door. I can''t really blame them for the precautions since not much is known about my species. Well, that and a lot of popular media portrayed Aura Intelligences (AIs) as ticking time bombs waiting to rebel against humanity.


    The equipment brought in by the researchers was fascinating, with numerous buttons and dials. However, the brain-scanning helmet resembled something out of a bad science fiction show, with yellow spheres protruding in all directions.


    Oh well, the things I do for science.


    Music never resonated with Dustin. He couldn''t find any emotions or value in it. He thought it was just noise. I assumed that I would feel the same way


    I was wrong. Dustin''s aura within me did not influence whatever sections of the brain that governed musical enjoyment. Music was quickly becoming an irreplaceable beacon of joy. The research project also served as my own form of therapy where I could funnel my thoughts and feelings into something constructive. More importantly, it served as an outlet for my boredom when there was downtime between other less fun tests.


    <hr>


    A few days later, while playing with a piano synthesizer, the red emergency lights suddenly turned on, and I snapped to attention, feeling threatened by the unfamiliar sights and sounds.


    "Richard, what''s-" I try asking before my words are interrupted by a digital voice coming through the facility''s loudspeakers.


    "Containment breach level 1. Sector 8 quarantine is in effect. Please standby for further instructions."


    "That doesn''t sound good. Aren''t we in sector 8?" I muttered worriedly.


    "Shit. Hold on, let me see if there are any more details in the emergency notifications directory. I don''t know of anything dangerous enough in this sector to warrant a quarantine lockdown¡­well, other than you, I suppose. You''d tell me if you had escaped, right?" Richard jokes while anxiously typing at his keyboard.


    "Of course, I wouldn''t tell you, Rich. I wouldn''t want to implicate you as my accomplice and jeopardize your career just on my behalf." I say half-jokingly


    Whatever is going on makes Richard more afraid than I realize because he doesn''t even respond to my words.


    "Sector 8 containment breached. Code: purple aurora is in effect. Repeat, code purple aurora is in effect." The voice calls throughout the facility speakers


    "Oh shit. Okay, breathe. You''ve trained for this kind of thing." Richard talks himself through what looks to be a mild near-panic


    "Rich, could you please explain what purple aurora means?" I ask, speaking slowly so as not to overwhelm my panicking minder.


    "It means there''s a powerful ghost type that is loose, and it''s killed at least one of the staff already. From what I''m reading, a Haunter was transferred on-site but broke containment when it spontaneously evolved into a fucking Gangar." Richard says in horror


    "That''s..not good. Can you access the PC to retrieve a Psychic-type from the lab''s pool of Pok¨¦mon?" I quickly ask while trying to devise a plan to help my friend from inside my cage.


    "Can''t. Access just got locked to this branch of the network. Someone attempted to withdraw several high-profile Pok¨¦mon from the restricted servers." Richard rapidly types on his PC for a few manic seconds before speaking again.


    "I think there is something going on in the other sectors because upper management just locked the whole server down. I can''t see anything that''s going on outside this sector anymore. This might be some kind of organized attack on the facility. Security teams should be inbound, but I don''t know anything for sure anymore." He says while running a hand through his hair and bouncing his leg nervously


    "What about my door? Do you have a way to let me out? I may not be trained for battle, but I could probably hold back a Gengar long enough for help to arrive." I ask carefully


    "I would if I could, but staff like me are never given direct access codes to the enclosures¡ªpart of the security measures. I''m afraid you are stuck in there." Richard replies rapidly before pushing himself out of his seat and running to a nearby cabinet at the back of the room. Opening it, I see an extensive array of emergency supplies arrayed before him. With practiced hands, Richard takes a can of Max Repel off the top shelf and sprays himself liberally with the foul substance.


    I pace back and forth as my fight-or-flight instincts war with each other uselessly. Richard somehow tracks the ghosts'' progress through the base and updates me on its movements. According to him, the ghost is jumping from room to room, seemingly unaffected by walls or doors in its path.


    I am trapped in my cage, feeling helpless, while my friend gradually loses his composure as he realizes that help will not arrive in time. As the powerful ghost type approaches us, a chill fills the air, and Richard''s breathing becomes quick with panic. I can see his breaths steaming into the air as the chill deepens to dangerous levels.


    We stopped breathing and listened intently for any warning. Suddenly, something dark crawled under the doorframe like a possessed oil spill, emerging into the room in the span of a blink. There was no time to react.


    Spectral hands emerged from the shadow, lifting Richard off the ground and tightly gripping him. After squeezing him for a moment, I watched in horror as red life energy drained out of Richard''s body like blood being wrung from a sponge.


    The feral Gengar then opens its grotesque mouth, greedily consuming Richard''s life force drop by terrible drop. Despite my enraged growling, the creature remains unfazed by my proximity. Instead, it crushes my friend even harder as if to taunt me, causing his bones to crack loudly under the pressure and forcing a gasp of pain from Richard.


    I slam my blunt claws against the window in desperation, but it has no effect. The monster grins wider at my futile attacks, and I feel my rage boiling over.


    As I stare at this vile excuse of a ghost Pokemon, my instincts to hunt it grow louder and louder, urging me to attack the threat. For once, my human mind aligns with my instinctive desires, and I feel inspiration take shape in my mind.


    All I needed is a small opening in the security window, and I could put an end to this.


    With a sudden surge of adrenaline, I instinctively scrape my claws against each other at a precise angle, honing the blunt tips into razor-sharp points within seconds. As I do so, I feel a burst of energy that sharpens my senses, allowing me to see the tiniest of flaws in the reinforced shatterproof glass and giving me a target to aim for.


    I dash towards the back wall of my enclosure, giving myself enough space to build up momentum. I concentrate on the precise spot I have to strike for my strategy to succeed. With all my leg power, I push myself off the wall and race towards the window on all fours. Just before I hit the window, I leap up and swing my right claw with all my force.


    The window barely flexes as I hit, but the Gengar stops sneering when it sees me smile triumphantly. When I remove my claw from the window a tiny puncture in the glass is revealed.


    Condensed darkness flows from me and through the small hole in the window, creating a rainbow-like pattern with an oily prismatic sheen to it. An illusionary ball rises from the pool of dark energy and coalesces behind the Gengar and Richard. The black sphere of dark energy ignites into a blazing imitation of the sun with a flick of my will.


    As planned, the dark star stretches the Gengar''s shadow into my cell. With dark-type energy dripping from my fangs, I tear into the shadow with righteous fury.


    I yank both the Gengar and Richard into my enclosure with supernaturally enforced strength. As the light from my dark star fades away, I grin with vicious intensity. Illusory darkness spills out from me, cloaking me and the room in darkness. My green eyes shine in the dark, and my prey quickly finds itself truly trapped in my domain.


    The Gengar''s smile turns into a snarl as it looks around desperately. I use a quick dark slash to extricate its shadowy hold from Richard''s now unconscious body. Protective illusions fold around him, hiding his presence as best I can while laying his body in the far corner of the room, away from the violence I was about to unleash.


    Instead of fighting me head-on, my prey makes the mistake of trying to escape by attempting to phase through the window. It quickly learns that escape is no longer an option.


    "No, you don''t!" I roar angrily


    I catch its lower torso with my teeth as an instinctive ''pursuit'' attack pours out of me, nearly tearing the Gengar in half as I fling it back into the center of the room.


    It uses ''spite'' in retaliation, but the lethargy from the attack only adds kindling to my burning fury.


    Methodically, I dash in and out of range tearing chunks out of its ghostly hide with dark energy-wreathed fangs and claws. Its ethereal flesh dissolves on my tongue like cotton candy, but the sickeningly sweet taste jolts my thoughts into a mild panic.


    My human mind reminds me that consuming Gengar ectoplasm could be extremely harmful if I''m not careful. Hopefully, the rescue teams will arrive in time to provide me with an antidote.


    As the numerous wounds on its body increase, the Gengar becomes more desperate as it realizes the gravity of the situation. With frantic fervor, its eyes start to glow a deep shade of red, and an ethereal nail appears above its face, pointing downwards towards its own forehead.


    Upon seeing the move, I immediately recognize it as a ''curse'' attack. In the moment before the nail strikes downward, I realize that if the curse''s radius is large enough to hit Richard, it would likely kill him on the spot.


    As cursed energy surges throughout the room, I throw myself backward to shield Richards''s body with my own. The pain is excruciating. My muscles feel like they''re falling off my bones. Blood drips from my nose and ears, and my thoughts become foggy from the continuous pulsing pain.


    The Gengar laughs at my prone form, but its bleeding forehead shows the backlash of its own curse attack. I snap when I hear its taunts; vengeful dark energy circulates within me, but my limbs still refuse to obey me.


    I couldn''t move, so Instead, I roared at the Gengar. My roar, infused with dark energy, carried itself along the sound waves, reverberating through the small room with immense power. The shockwaves of my ''dark pulse'' infused roar rips the Gengar into ectoplasmic chunks. At the same time, the observation room''s already compromised window develops spiderwebbing cracks.


    My defiant roar fades into a fit of coughs as the curse takes its final toll on my body. I drop to the floor beside Richard, collapsing onto the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Richard awakens with a moan of pain a few moments later as I soundlessly writhe in pain on the ground.


    Bleary-eyed, he takes in his surroundings before speaking. "How did I get in here? Echo, is that you?" he states weakly as he pulls himself into a half-sitting position next to me.


    "Hey Rich, ya it''s me¡­ I solved the ghost problem you were having¡­ No need to thank me." I gasp out between fits of pain.


    He grimaces when he sees the cracked glass and the purple pile of ectoplasm that used to be a Gengar.


    "Yes, I can see that. Are you going to be okay? You don''t look good," he says while unsteadily getting up to his feet.


    "I don''t know. I got hit with a curse at the end there, and it''s done a number on me. Hey, you wouldn''t happen to have any antidote or full restore on you by any chance, would you? I took a few bites out of lumpy over there, and I''m not sure it''s agreeing with me." I say while curling up into a tight ball of pain.


    "I do, but Gengar poison shouldn''t be deadly to you if you only ingested it. Your liver won''t thank you, but you should survive; however, I''m more worried about the ''Curse'' damage. Usually, its continuous effects dissipate when the caster dies, but you may still have some internal hemorrhaging if you are still in this much pain." Richard says while slowly hobbling his way over to me on his injured limbs.


    As he approaches me, he notices a small pool of my blood pooling around me. Quietly, he swears under his breath before searching in his coat pocket for a spare emergency antidote. He then pulls me from my fetal position and onto my back. My vision blurs due to the blood coming from my eyes, but I still sense that my condition is frightening Rich badly.


    It hadn''t occurred to me until now, but we were more than just a lab subject and a scientist; we were friends. I just hadn''t realized that until now. His lack of fear and obvious concern for my well-being highlighted this fact in my mind.


    "Hey, Rich," I groan as he injects the medicine into the crook of my arm.


    "What is it, Echo?" He replies with a pain-laced voice


    "If I don''t survive, can I ask you to do something for me?" I groan


    "Echo, stop being dramatic. You''ll be fine," he replies while holding back tears. I couldn''t tell if he actually believed his own words or if the pain of his own injuries was hitting him.


    "If I die, can you have my pelt made into a coat?"


    "W-what?" he asks in confusion, which seems to distract him from his pain.


    "In the event of my death, I just want you to know that I''m uncomfortable with being buried in the ground or cremated... It just seems like such a waste. Plus, I think a nice red and black fur coat would look great on you." I smile with blood-stained teeth


    The poor scientist stares at me with a look of disbelief before letting out a half-chuckle. "I''m not sure about that. Your mangy fur wouldn''t make a great coat. Maybe we could make a throw rug out of it, but I''m afraid that''s the best I can do," Richard jokes as he cuts a piece of his lab coat off to wipe away the blood from my eyes and mouth.


    "I''m hurt by your words, Rich, but if that''s the best you can offer, I''ll accept it. As long as it''s not a shower mat, I won''t complain. I hate it when my fur gets wet," I say, slowly losing consciousness to the encroaching darkness. My friend''s presence soothes me into a deep sleep.


    After a nerve-wracking ten-minute wait, the security team finally manages to secure the sector and gain entry into the observation room. To their astonishment, they discover a research scientist who appears to be on the brink of death, waving at them through a cracked security window. In his lap, he holds a sick-looking dark-type fox Pok¨¦mon clinging to its barely breathing form as if his life depended on it.

 Chapter 3: Professors, Promises, and an Apology

    "Human thought is so primitive it''s looked upon as an infectious disease in some of the better galaxies. That kind of makes you proud, doesn''t it?"


    ¡ª K, Men in Black


    The world around me fades in and out of focus as I drift in and out of consciousness. My mind is a playground of dreams and nightmares that twirl and dance in a spiraling frenzy. But suddenly, something changes. I feel a sense of control, and before I know it, I''m lucid dreaming.


    I take charge of the dream and find myself soaring through the sky like a Jumpluff caught in a gust of wind. The stars twinkle so brightly that they almost outshine the full moon I conjure above me. It''s a surreal feeling, almost like I''m in my own little world.


    I reach out to touch the surface of the distant moon, but I can never quite grasp it before the waking world pulls me back.


    I hear familiar voices that gradually become louder until their words awake me. As I try to move, I realize that I am restrained to a metal bed frame using heavy-duty straps, making it difficult to move.


    Upon opening my eyes, I am temporarily blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. As I lift my head, I see that there are nearly a dozen people in the room with me, all looking at me with cautious gazes.


    I see unfamiliar faces looking at me with a mix of uncertainty and weariness. But amidst them, I spot Carter, the scientist who introduced me to music, and Richard, who has a new cast on his left arm. Despite the tension in the room, Richard seems surprisingly cheerful, and his smile eases the tension in my body.


    As I look down, I notice that my arm is connected to an IV line that''s attached to a stand carrying a medical bag. The bag has a chemical formula written in bold, and the only other words on it are a red warning label stating, "Not for human use."


    As I sink into the soft pillows provided to me, I take a moment to look around the room. The medical staff nearby try not to stare at me, but I find their attempts to ignore my presence more than a little amusing. The room is surrounded by steel-plated walls, and emergency supplies occupy one side, making me feel like I''m in a disaster bunker.


    Two guards stand by the only door, each with their own Pok¨¦mon by their sides. The sudden silence after my awakening is awkward until Carter walks over and starts urging people to get back to work. I give the cheerful man a smile, and he returns it with a thumbs-up as he helps divert attention away from me in my little corner of the room.


    Without saying a word, Richard offers me a cold bottle of water using his one good arm. I nod my head gratefully towards the water, relieved that I don''t have to speak with my dry throat. Richard takes a seat in a chair near the head of my hospital bed and pours a few sips of water into my mouth.


    After setting the water bottle aside, he tentatively places his good hand on my head and begins stroking my head like a dog.


    I want to be annoyed or mortified by Richard''s actions, but I find myself leaning my head into his hand and closing my eyes unconsciously. For now, dignity is unimportant to me, after all, why should I care about human conventions anyway?


    I just need to remind myself that I am not human and shouldn''t be held to all of their standards of social norms. Besides, I didn''t realize how much I needed physical touch until now, after months of confinement. I almost whined when he removed his hand from me.


    "I''m surprised you managed to convince security to let me out of containment. How did you even get the permission for that?" I ask softly. I hear the soft shuffling of shoes on the ground from the other staff in the room as they unconsciously draw closer to eavesdrop on my words.


    Richard stops petting my head altogether, and his tone becomes severe as he explains the situation. "Who said anything about permission?" Richard growls out.


    "You were on the brink of death, and nobody was going to stop me from saving you. I had to all but shove the security footage of what happened in their faces, but they eventually brought you up here." Richard says angrily before getting ahold of his emotions and continuing. "You may not realize it, but you saved a lot of lives by putting an end to that Gengar''s rampage."


    I see most of the staff in the room turn away from my gaze, but a few are brave enough to hold eye contact with me. They nod in silent thanks and then turn back to their duties. Just as I am about to ask Richard another question about the attack, the large metal doors at the far side of the room open. I watch as the guards step aside to let a group of familiar professors through.


    "- in other words, from your records, the species name Zorua originated from a combination of two dead languages that translate to ''Dark'' and ''Fox'', respectively. That seems fitting enough, I don''t see any need to change the nomenclature if that''s the case." Professor Juniper says, speaking to two older men, one silver-haired and the other white-haired with a prominent mustache and stern fa?ade.


    A pink Minccino rides on Juniper''s shoulder, scanning the room with childlike curiosity. As the security door closes behind them, the troupe of famous scientists take notice of Richard and me and begin to walk in our direction each scientist carrying varying levels of curiosity and wonder in their gazes.


    I am in shock as each of these people represents some of the greatest minds to have walked the face of the earth. And in the case of Professor Oak, he was one of the most powerful Pok¨¦mon champions of his era and the phrase "Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young" comes to mind. Yet, of the three professors, Oak''s gaze was the softest as he took in my bedridden form.


    "Gentlemen, it''s my pleasure to introduce you to Echo. From your historical records Rowan, Echo would be a Zoroark, the second stage of the Zorua line." Juniper states before turning to me. "Echo, I hope these last few months of captivity haven''t been too difficult on you. You have my deepest sympathies, but your situation has been a political nightmare to handle since the league classified your case. Hopefully, we can change your accommodations now that we have these gentlemen''s help." Juniper says with a radiant smile


    "Eh, I can''t complain, and I understand, professor. It''s a pleasure to meet you both, Id shake your hands, but I''m a bit tied up at the moment." I joke while motioning my head to my retrained limbs.


    "Although, if you''re taking suggestions, I could really use a treadmill or something in the next enclosure you set me up in. The old room was fine for throwing a rubber ball against the wall, but that''s not really enough cardio for my liking, you know." I respond somewhat hopefully.


    I really could use some workout equipment to help keep my mind occupied down here.


    "I don''t think that will be needed. You see, we have a proposal for you, Echo. The league would like to offer you special employment under my direct preview. If you agree, you will be afforded certain privileges, the least of which will be access to elite training facilities and your own dormitory room." Juniper says while petting the oddly colored chinchilla Pok¨¦mon on her Sholder.


    I am too shocked to speak, but when I look at Richard, he just nods at the professor''s words.


    "That is only if we also sign off on the executive request." Rowan gruffly retorts, breaking through my shock. "Before either of us supports young Juniper''s request, we must first ascertain the veracity of her claims about your true disposition," Rowan states without blinking.


    The man''s intense stare has me instinctively shying away from him as I almost feel like I''m about to be attacked. Oak seems to take note of my body language, though and replies quickly afterward.


    "Don''t get too discouraged, Echo; this is merely a formality. What my colleague means is that you should think of our presence here like an extended job interview. The lab reports and your most recent actions already speak volumes of your disposition, and I''m sure my colleague here will see the benefits of Juniper''s propositions regarding your case." Oak replies while pulling over a swivel chair and sitting on it in reverse position with his arms resting nonchalantly on the backrest.


    The casual action instantly evaporates any tension from Rowan''s continued stare-down.


    "I¡­don''t know what to say. What exactly is this proposal? I haven''t heard anything about this before. Also, was it really necessary for you two to come all this way to see me in person? You must have flown halfway across the world to get here Professor." I ask while looking at Oak


    The man chuckles at my response, and even Rowan''s icy gaze melts fractionally.


    "Echo, we were invited to converse with a Sapient Pok¨¦mon. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that we could not pass up." Oak says with a chuckle before continuing.


    "Also, you have no idea the fire you lit under my staff when you sent that extensive care guide alongside your kit. Can you imagine our shock when an unknown species is handed to us with seemingly no strings attached from a Ranger on the other side of the world?" Oak says as if explaining the plot of his favorite movie series.


    "And then, on top of that, when I tried to look up the ranger who sent it to us, I saw a confirmed death certificate dated before the transfer was initiated, and well, I am not one to leave a mystery like that unsolved," Oak says with a knowing smile.


    "As for the proposal," Juniper interjects. "It''s still in the works, but current circumstances have given us an opportunity to accelerate some things. Initially, we would like you to act as a security consultant for the Ghost research sector of this facility." Juniper says while pulling out a berry from her lab coat to give to her Pok¨¦mon, who nibbles at it excitedly.


    "Will there be an actual contract involved in this?" Richard retorts with surprising venom in his voice. "Because I will remind you that Echo''s legal status is still in Limbo, given your insistence on keeping his nature secret from the public."


    "I know it seems unfair, but the league isn''t ready to reveal his existence just yet. However, I''ve discussed the situation with the league''s champions, and they have agreed to some of the proposals you''ve forwarded over to me." Juniper placatingly replies


    "There are some stipulations, of course, but nothing too onerous. Echo has the potential to become one of the league''s greatest assets if he wishes to be, and few people on the ethics board can doubt Echo''s intentions after yesterday''s events." Juniper continues more sedately


    "Well, does anyone want to actually tell me what these proposals entail, or shall I just go back to sleep and let you all work this out between yourselves?" I ask exasperatedly at being so out of the loop


    "Sorry, Echo, for context, the ethics committee has been in something of a civil war with itself trying to figure out how to handle your case. Your human aura prevents a conventional trainer bond, which frightens a lot of people on the board because it means we can''t control your actions. They have been debating putting you in stasis since we''ve recently cracked the programming needed to have Pokeballs work on you." Juniper apologizes


    "Okay¡­ so what you are saying is that you''ve all gone over the board of ethics heads and struck a deal with the League''s champions, but you still need other professors like Rowan and Oak here to sign off on the plan first? Am I understanding this right?" I ponder aloud


    "Your case, in particular, is a delicate one because Unova can''t be seen as acting unethically toward Pok¨¦mon," Juniper explains. "Continuing to hold you in captivity as we have isn''t something we can justify lest we be compared to Orre and sanctioned accordingly."


    "Your case can''t remain hidden from the public forever; too many people know you exist at this point," Rowan says side eyeing the staff still in the room who are not so subtly eavesdropping.


    Sighing, Juniper continues, "Indeed, your existence is going to leak one way or another. So, we need to start working on what happens with you going forward. That necessitates showing a history of you working with the league voluntarily in whatever capacity you feel comfortable with. Hopefully, your public reveal won''t occur for a few more years yet, but it''s better to hope for the best and plan for the worst."


    "Okay, Okay, I get it. Just tell me what you want me to do because I''m definitely game, whatever it is." I say excitedly


    "There are a few field missions we would like for you to perform in the future if you are up for it, but for now, what are your thoughts on becoming a security consultant for the ghost sector of our research institute?" Juniper asks


    I take a few moments to contemplate what a position like this would entail for me. Would other security personnel be informed of my existence, or would I have to pretend to be human? I know that research departments are largely compartmentalized, so would I be expected to work under a guise?


    I have serious doubts about the sustainability of that kind of proposal, especially given the large number of well-trained psychic humans employed here. Do I have any choice in the matter, or will I be forced into stasis for an unknown amount of time if I refuse whatever this entails?


    The thought of just falling asleep in a Pokeball only to wake up in some far-flung future decades down the road haunts my mind. Technology was already propelling human civilization so fast, would I recognize the world a few decades from now?


    After thinking for less than a minute, I ask, "When do I start?"


    Juniper smiles and, with a snap of her fingers, her Minccino jumps onto my hospital bed. It chews straight through my restraints with four sharp snaps of its tiny teeth. Rowan scowls at Juniper for her hasty actions, but instead of berating her, he just sighs and walks a few steps away to use his transceiver to call someone.


    "Your first order is to rest up and meet with the head of security in two days'' time. Richard will be able to direct you where you need to go. And one last thing." She says while pulling out an odd-looking Pokeball.


    It almost looks like a Dusk ball of some kind, but most of the protective panels have been removed, exposing the complex grid of obviously modified circuitry inside. "Catch!" She says, lobbing the ball in my direction


    Out of instinct, I try rising out of the bed to catch the ball in my claws but wince in pain and instead find the ball slamming into my forehead. The ball ricochets off my head, and the red capture beam strikes me a moment later, encompassing my whole body. Unlike the other times this was tried on me, all sensations cut off immediately, leaving a perfect void in their place.


    I had an instant realization that I was inside a Pokeball, surrounded by a blank void. I could feel the ephemeral chains of my aura being tied into knots, once, twice, and then a final time before settling. I could easily understand why wild Pok¨¦mon would panic at this feeling; this loss of all sensation was how I imagined feeling dead would be like.


    This feeling of non-corporality is almost meditative though. As if I am at the center of some kind of perfect sensory deprivation chamber. As I relax and let the aura chains sink deeper into my being, binding me to the Pokeball, a feeling of zen overtakes my mind.


    All the aches in my body seem to cease existing in this space. I feel like falling asleep would be the easiest thing to do. Once everything is in place and I''m sure the capture sequence is complete, something strange happens.


    The best way I can describe it is like my eyes are opening for the first time. Somehow, I''m able to look past the void of the Pokeball and see into the real world.


    The shape of the world is like nothing I''ve experienced before, almost like the world is covered in a bluish fiery smoke. I could discern sounds if I really focused, but the synesthesia mixing of my senses makes me almost sick.


    Fearing that this is some sort of sensory deprivation hallucination, I push outward with my aura in the hopes of escaping the Pokeball and find myself swiftly returning to physical existence. A moment later, I land face-first on my hospital bed with my head at the foot of the bed. The springs in the mattress squeak a bit as I land, and I have to take another few seconds to reorient myself to my new position.


    "-could have at least let us disconnect the IV. There is liquid ether all over the floor. Do you have any idea how toxic this stuff is?" One of the Pok¨¦mon veterinarians in the room berates a sheepish Juniper.


    "I will admit that I may have gotten carried away in the moment. My apologies." Juniper says


    The air turns a bit awkward as I slowly crawl under the covers of the bed and make my way back to the pillows at the top of the bed. Once settled in, I look Juniper in the eye and ask-


    "So¡­does that mean I am registered to you or the lab or¡­" I trail off, leadingly


    If I had a choice, I would have preferred Richard doing the honors, even if it was probably a symbolic thing of who ''caught'' me.


    "No. If that were the case, I would have asked your permission first." Juniper says seriously, "That modified dusk ball was and still is registered to Dustin Smith. Your legal status is still to be determined, but that''s not for us to decide now. Let the league''s lawyers figure that mess out later."


    Juniper pulls out a small stack of papers from her lab coat and attaches it to a clipboard by my bedside.


    "As a ''consultant,'' you will have to go through some introductory classes before being allowed into the lab spaces proper; that being said, I will leave you in Professor Oak''s care. I am told he wanted to talk with you about some personal matters, and I have some other duties regarding the ghost containment protocols that need revision." With a nod at Professor Oak, Juniper walks away, and as she leaves, Rowan finishes whatever call he was having and follows her out of the room without another word to us.


    As soon as the others leave, I become aware that I am sitting unrestrained in a room full of people, which is both thrilling and terrifying. I am surprised that I have been granted so much trust so quickly. Professor Oak interrupts my thoughts as he stands up from his chair and starts replaceing the IV drip in my arm.


    "Ya know, when I woke up today, having Professor Oak play nurse for me was not high on my list of expected things to happen. I''m surprised you don''t just put me in a healing machine with this." I say while holding my modified Pokeball out to him in my claws, but instead of taking the pokeball, he gently takes my arm and applies a fresh needle into a vein in my arm.


    How the man even found a vein beneath my fur is beyond me.


    "Ah, but are you sure of what the healing machine would recognize as being in need of healing? What if your embedded human aura is treated like a disease you''ve contracted? Would you want to risk being cured? It''s an unlikely scenario, I admit, but It''s best we be mindful of these things and act cautiously; we aren''t in any rush after all." The professor says with a smile while moving his grip to my wrist and checking his watch, likely checking my heart rate manually.


    The man''s overwhelming compassion and fearlessness have me speaking out before I even realize that I''m speaking.


    "You were one of Dustin''s Heros, you know." I blurt out. When he looks at me with a curiously raised eyebrow, I force myself to continue, "When you helped end the great war by founding the Pok¨¦mon League with the other Regions champions. You were like a superhero from the comics Dustin used to read as a kid, you know? You were larger than life, yet most children nowadays don''t even know one-tenth of what you''ve done to shape the world they live in." I divert my eyes, feeling embarrassed at my star-struck seeming speech.


    "I''m glad Dustin thought so highly of me, but I don''t think I deserve half the praise that''s been lain at my feet. Every achievement ascribed to me, like the founding of the league, isn''t due to my own actions but because my friends and I dared to dream of a better world than the one we were given." The professor seems to lose himself in a memory, saying his next words almost in a whisper.


    "It''s amazing how the smallest of actions just...ripple outward until they become waves so large you can''t even define their scope any longer. I let one man live when I had every reason to do the opposite, and then a few years down the road¡­ the whole world just grew tired of war."


    "Ah, but let''s not get caught in ancient history, shall we? I have something for you if you are feeling well enough. I can come back tomorrow if you want to rest. I''ll be auditing the facility for some time, so there really is no rush if you''d prefer to rest right now." Oak asks while finally letting go of my wrist


    "I don''t think I''ll be sleeping for a while yet, but before we get to whatever that is, can I ask something? Was a root cause for the Gengar incursion determined?" I ask, looking from Richard to Oak inquisitively.


    "Ah, we don''t have the full details yet, but someone did try to access the restricted storage servers during the attack, so it could have been intentional." Richard starts before Oak responds


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "The Pok¨¦mon that was trying to be retrieved from the server has since been given over to Champion Cynthia for safekeeping. It is possible that one of the staff members merely panicked when the Gengar was released in the facility and attempted to withdraw a strong Pok¨¦mon for protection. They should have known better than to try accessing the restricted servers during an emergency. However, you need not worry about the incident any longer, as it is my responsibility to address this issue." Oak admonishes us gently


    Something still seemed wrong about that scenario, like why the security teams were delayed so long, but I decided to let it go for now.


    "Now I have someone here who''s been waiting to see you for some time now," Oak says while pulling a familiar dusk ball out of his pocket.


    I stare at the ball in shock, instantly knowing what is inside. Hesitantly, I raise a claw up to the button, stop a few inches away, and look at Oak again for permission. He nods his head, and a moment later, my kit appears on my hospital bed. She has grown nearly twice her original size and no longer shows any signs of malnutrition. It''s clear that she has been well taken care of, and the thought brings happy tears to my eyes.


    She shakes herself as if she''s trying to displace water off her fur. Then, she turns abruptly to face me. Without a moment''s pause, she runs up my chest and presses herself against my face. She tries to nuzzle under my chin and bury herself in my chest fur and I laugh.


    Without realizing what I''m doing, I start grooming her with my tongue, only managing to stop long enough to blearily thank the professor through my tears as he looks at us with a beaming smile.


    I don''t know how I would repay the professor, but one day, I vowed to do just that.


    ____


    The next few days of recovery pass in a blur. I reluctantly give Oak my kit back, and he assures me that she is being cared for by the best of the best at his ranch in Pallet Town. He also assures me that I can visit whenever I want once my legal situation is hammered out with the league. And it strikes me then that I really could visit whenever I wanted. PCs could transfer my Pokeball across the world in seconds, I could travel anywhere in the world in seconds.


    One of the biggest obstacles faced by the league in responding to disasters is human transportation. Even the most powerful teleporting Pok¨¦mon have an upper range of about one hundred miles. Additionally, long-distance travel, such as via airplanes, requires heavily armed ranger escorts to protect against wild Pok¨¦mon attacks.


    I wonder how useful I could be as a rapid response unit for the league. I could be available anywhere in the world with a PC and internet connection within seconds. However, I am getting a bit ahead of myself; I still need to get approval from the professors to work as a security contractor for the league first, and it may take some time before I am sent out to do fieldwork.


    With myself fully recovered and given a clean bill of health by the veterinarians, Richard finally takes me through the facility with the intent of meeting with the head of security at the end of our little tour. After only a few seconds of walking through the long corridors, we are greeted by a somewhat familiar researcher and what appears to be a trainer and their Pok¨¦mon.


    I recognize the researcher as one of Carter''s interns who had previously helped bring the musical soundboards into my enclosure. The other person is an overly excited trainer with a rare Absol trailing close by his feet. Before anyone else can stop him, the trainer runs up to me excitedly, causing Rich and me to stop walking.


    "Oh wow! I''ve never seen a species like this before! May I?" The trainer asks Richard, but before Rich can answer, the trainer takes advantage of our shock to reach out and trail his fingers through my mane near the base of my skull.


    I almost flinch back at the sudden closeness of this unknown person. Still, when he starts digging fingernails in just the right spot, I find myself leaning into the enthusiastic scratches.


    "Robert!" exclaimed the researcher, mortified by the actions of the trainer he was escorting. "You were warned about the Pok¨¦mon down here! Just because your Absol can detect danger doesn''t mean you can just do whatever you want!" The researcher moans while looking at me somewhat nervously


    "Hey, I don''t mind, Kids got magic fingers," I reply with eyes half-lidded in ecstasy.


    The trainer, Robbert apparently, freezes in place when he hears my rumbling response. When I looked down, I saw that Absol was brushing against Robert''s and my legs, looking up at us with pleading eyes as if to ask, ''Why don''t I get scritches?'' I hunch down to give Absol some conciliatory scritches and flash Robert a toothy smile as I do so.


    "Hey, I didn''t say to stop." I jokingly reply while glancing sideways at his hand, still buried halfway in my mane.


    "Oh, I uh, I''m so sorry, I didn''t mean to- I just" The trainer starts to panic visibly, but Rich intervenes.


    "It''s all right. Echo may sound scary, but he''s a big softy. But please do be more careful; I know you trust your Absol''s uniquely potent danger clairvoyance, but that doesn''t mean you can''t find yourself in awkward situations like this one, understood?" Richard replies with a faint smile


    "Y-yes sir, sorry." Robbert relies to Rich before removing his hand from my back and addressing me directly. "I apologize for being presumptuous, Echo. I''m a dark type specialist, and I, I just-"


    "No need to explain anything to me, friend. If there is one thing you get used to down here, it is curiosity," I conspiratorially half-whisper to Robbert while my eyes turn toward the researchers.


    "On that note, I think leaving these two to their business is best. Come on, Robbert; we have a few more tests we need to perform before the day is over." Carter''s intern states before dragging the dark-type trainer away. Reluctantly, the Absol follows after them as its trainer is practically dragged away.


    "Should I be worried about a random trainer knowing about my ability to talk?" I conversationally ask Richard


    "Not this one, no. Robbert had to sign a literal stack of non-disclosure agreements before being allowed down here. The trainers who work in this area have also undergone thorough background checks and psychic examinations, so there shouldn''t be any cause for concern. Why? Are you worried about your existence being leaked early?" Richard queries, walking briskly down the corridor while I struggle to keep up.


    "No, no, it''s not that¡­well, not just that. It''s just that you all are going so fast with allowing me these freedoms. Hell, Rich, if someone told me last week that I''d be sitting in this hall receiving pets from random trainers, I''d have asked they be checked for a confusion status effects. I just don''t think a monster like me should be allowed to walk around like this, at least not this soon." I reply worriedly


    To my surprise, Rich suddenly turned around and hugged me. I am caught off guard by the sudden change of direction and almost trip over.


    "Echo, this is not a decision that the league made lightly," Rich says, letting go of me and then placing his hands on my shoulders to emphasize his following words.


    "A number of others and I have been vying for your release almost since day one. You don''t deserve to be caged up, Echo. You''ve more than earned this modicum of freedom even before the Gengar incident. I hope you know that." Richard states imploringly


    Looking at Richard''s left arm, which still has a cast on it, I gently remove his hands from my shoulder and sigh.


    "Thanks, Rich. I get what you mean, but it''s going to be a while before I trust myself as much as you all apparently do." I say sincerely back


    "Hey, don''t worry about it. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you, Echo. Words can''t really express the depth of my gratitude for what you did for me and the other researchers here. Incidents like that are extremely rare nowadays, and you put your life on the line just to save me. I don''t know how I can ever repay that kind of debt." Richard replies sincerely.


    "Friends don''t owe each other anything. I''d gladly do it all again. And that battle high was to die for." I say with a malicious grin, "I might even have to take up recreational deathmatches as a hobby or something." I say entirely destroying the sentimental tone of our conversation


    Rich expresses his displeasure with my joke by flicking my nose hard. I yelp in surprise and glare at his smug face.


    "Ow, hey, that''s Pok¨¦mon abuse! Don''t think I won''t call the league down on you, Rich. I have rights too!" I say with mock indignation


    "Look, I won''t be able to babysit you 24-7 after you start this position, so you will have to learn to behave yourself. Actually, now that I think about it, It might be a good idea to show you the showers so you can freshen up a bit before your meeting."


    Without saying a word, I shrugged and trailed behind Richard as we made our way through a new set of corridors that actually had rooms in use. As I glance into the rooms, I notice small rectangular windows on the doors that allow me to peek inside.


    While most rooms are empty, some have teams of scientists working, often accompanied by a trainer and a single Pok¨¦mon. It takes me a moment to figure out what feels off about these rooms, but eventually, I realize that, unlike my containment, these test subjects interact directly with their scientists and trainers, often being handled directly with no security walls between them.


    It was fascinating to see the actual standard setup for test subjects. I had always assumed that my setup was standard, but for captured Pok¨¦mon, it is probably far less dangerous than it seems. After a short walk, we ended up in a locker room that led to a standard shower area. It mirrored many ranger station setups from my memories.


    "Alright, go ahead and head in to get yourself cleaned up. It''s been a while since we''ve had the chance to give you a good wash, so be sure to be extra thorough. Once you''re done, I''ll show you where you can find some spare clothes. And please, try your best not to clog the drains." Rich says as he hands me a plastic shower basket containing a large towel, Pok¨¦mon shampoo, and a big red hairbrush with a little Vulpix icon on it.


    "Cute." I deadpan, eyeing the brush like a live snake. "I give no promises on the drains. Also, I would like to file a complaint about not getting clothes sooner. I''ve missed having pockets." I grouse, feeling a bit awkward at technically being naked most of the time Rich and I have known each other.


    The thought of asking for clothes strangely never occurred to me until now.


    "Well, with how your fur maintains your modesty, we didn''t feel it necessary. Plus, you never brought it up before." Richard says with a shrug


    Sighing, I trudge my way into the shower stalls while growling something about voyeuristic scientists under my breath. Setting the water to a steaming hot setting, I relax into the spray of soothing H2O and get to work.


    It takes almost an hour to wash my mane to a degree I find acceptable, but I manage not to clog the drain in the end. After drying myself off, I feel and look like a giant puffball; Rich doesn''t say a word but points to a set of folded clothes on the nearby bench.


    As I unfold the clothes, I notice that they''re Ranger uniforms with some changes made to fit my body shape. Since I''m quite humanoid, the small alterations probably didn''t require much effort. After putting on the uniform, I glance at myself in the mirror and, almost automatically, create a human disguise that strongly resembles Dustin''s appearance.


    He''d been in his late thirties when I''d cut his life short, but when I put the illusion up, it was hard not to fall into a matching ranger persona. My species relied on this kind of mimicry to ambush prey in the wild, and putting up the illusion suppressed my nervous anticipation of the upcoming interview with the head of security.


    Walking back over to Rich, I ask.


    "What do you think, too much, or should I go ''natural'' for the first meet and greet?"


    Richard looks at my illusionary disguise for a few moments before replying.


    "I would suggest that you go for a natural look. However, in case you choose to use this disguise later, you may want to add a scarf and cape. People might mistake you for an eccentric dragon-type trainer but It''s for the best if you don''t want your mane and collar fluff to give you away if someone brushes by you accidentally. Please note that this disguise should only really be needed if you end up in the less restricted upper-floor research areas, such as the ones at ground level."


    As I nod in acceptance, I let go of my illusion and tie my hair into a knot near the base to prevent it from touching the ground. Rich takes me on a tour of the facility until he leads us to a secluded area that has an elevator with ''security'' written on it. Richard uses his keycard to open the doors for me but doesn''t enter with me.


    "This is as for as I go, Echo," Richard says while offering me a handshake. Feeling uneasy, I hesitantly take his hand and suddenly find myself being pulled closer as Richard whispers in my ear.


    "Whatever happens, just act naturally, and don''t let Rowan or the security chief get in your head. I hear that both have a history of testing the ''moral fiber'' of the people they work with, and I shudder to think of the mind games they are probably going to try to pull on you." Richard says quickly before stepping back and allowing the elevator door to close


    I don''t know why he had to tell me like that, but there were probably hidden cameras or microphones throughout the facility and he probably didn''t want them to know he was warning me about these tests.


    "I am not cut out for this spy drama bullshit." I sigh to myself as the elevator slowly moves to what is apparently level B13.


    As the door opens, I come face to face with Professor Rowan''s stern visage and his intimidating Infernape, towering at almost 9ft tall behind him. Thankfully, with Richards''s warning, I hardly react, just slowly looking from one to the other before speaking up.


    "Sir, if your intention was to intimidate me, I must admit that you are far more frightening than that monster behind you," I say calmly.


    Surprisingly, Rowan cracks a small smile at my words, motioning for me to follow.


    "You are not the first to say as such. However, I wasn''t trying to intimidate you. Just testing your reaction to facing an Apex fighting type is all. I''m sure you understand that having an agent with a phobia of bugs or fighting types wouldn''t do." Rowan states easily enough


    "Understood completely, sir. However, may I ask what the plan for me would be should I fail any of your tests today?"


    "That depends entirely on your own prerogatives, Echo. For instance, if you failed the current scenario, I would have recommended you take desensitization therapy to overcome your instinctual fears for your type weaknesses."


    After Rowan opened the door to the chief of security''s office, he led me inside. The room looked quite ordinary and had a standard office set up. At the far end of the room was a large desk where a woman was sitting, resting her cheek on her fist. She appeared to be sleep-deprived; however, as soon as she noticed me entering the room with Rowan and his Pok¨¦mon, she quickly straightened up and focused her attention on me.


    "Ah, you must be Subject 571. Come, have a seat; we have a few things I''d like to discuss with you." She intones dramatically


    I sat in front of the desk, trying my best to ignore the fact that the person I was meeting with had referred to me by my designation number instead of my preferred name. As I tried to keep a level head, something unexpected happened - a small yellow bug suddenly jumped from the ceiling and landed on my lap. I was about to panic and jump out of the chair, but then I realized that the bug was actually a Joltik, which the security chief likely owned. So, I froze and stayed put.


    "Oh, don''t mind fangs; he just likes to greet new people who come to my office." The chief says with a malicious grin


    I decide to carefully pick up the spider and place it on the desk. To my horror, the spider jumps onto the face of the security chief and then crawls up to the top of her head. However, the security chief doesn''t even flinch and instead affectionately pets the little creature.


    "So, it is my understanding that you would be amenable to taking a position on my security force. Tell me, what makes you a good candidate for this position?" She asks, folding her hands together on top of her desk.


    I find it hard not to stare at the Joltic still perched on her head, but I manage to glance at her name tag on her desk and form a coherent sentence anyway.


    "Well, Emily, I have extensive knowledge of Pok¨¦mon species found in the Unova region, both in the wild and in urban environments. I also have a fundamental understanding of standard operational procedures utilized by the league''s scout ranger core and their importance in life-critical scenarios." I begin finding my mental footing again and becoming surer of myself, only to be caught flat-footed at her response


    "That''s all well and good, but how are you with Pok¨¦mon capture, domestication, or training? There may come a time when you alone will not be sufficient to handle a given situation. Are you willing or even capable of forming the type of bond we humans utilize to control and live alongside Pok¨¦mon?"


    "Um I-" I start to say before being talked over


    "I''m sure you know that even the most novice rangers have at least one companion Pok¨¦mon to assist in their duties. This being the case, may I ask if you are comfortable conducting a quick experiment here and now under Rowan''s supervision to help us determine your efficacy as an agent of the league?" She asks quickly enough for me to suspect that this response was rehearsed.


    I stopped to think momentarily, trying not to get caught out or railroaded into something I wasn''t comfortable with. Eventually, I asked the chief what exactly she wanted me to do.


    "We have a Pok¨¦mon here whose Owner recently passed away. Release has been deemed an unfavorable option since it is a heavily domesticated species, and no close human relatives of the previous owner are available to take custody of said Pok¨¦mon." Emily pauses to get my reaction before continuing on once she sees me hesitantly nod


    "Additionally, just so you are aware, the Pok¨¦mon is a psychic type, as we would like to both test your control over your hunting instincts and determine how well you can bond with a species diametrically opposed to your typing. Is that all right with you?" She finishes, awaiting my response


    "I¡­don''t see an issue with that. I''m ready if you are, I suppose," I say hesitantly. Something feels off about this, but it''s not until I see the Pok¨¦ball being thrown right next to me that I realize what is going on.


    Materializing next to me in a flash of white light is a very familiar Male Kirlia. Across its forehead, going down its right eye, is a faint scar the exact size and shape of my claw.


    As his red eyes locked onto me, I braced myself for an attack, but he surprised me by tilting his head and slowly approaching me instead. We gazed at each other for an indeterminate amount of time until he cautiously took my left claw in his tiny hands and placed it on one of its two crimson horns. The foci of his empathic powers.


    Upon contact, an overwhelming flood of emotions and sensations overshadow my mind. Memories of all the missions Dustin carried out with his trusted partner Ralts during his early ranger days come rushing back - the countless times they saved each other''s lives, the lives they saved together, and the countless moments of contentment exploring the wilderness in a way that few others in the world could boast of.


    I felt like I was watching a movie about Dustin''s life again, but this time, it was like I was seeing everything from a different perspective. My rising regret and self-loathing mounted higher and higher with each vision until something snapped in Kirlia, and an energy that was not psychic type oozed from him, burning into my veins like some kind of poison.


    I feel the bond Dustin had with this Kirlia forcefully reform in me as if it had never broken. Karlia''s psychic empathy bypasses my dark nature like some kind of miracle and impossibly allows me to feel his relief and happiness at the reforged bond.


    Tears stream down my face uncontrollably as I pull Kirlia tightly to my chest. I don''t care that the professor and security chief are watching me. Kirlia cooes back as I whisper, "I''m so sorry." His two-fingered hands grip my new vest tightly as if he were a child reunited with a long-lost family member. Once again, I repeat, "I''m so sorry." before I dissolve entirely into messy sobs.


    While I wasn''t paying attention, the chief of security and Professor Rowan both looked at my emotional breakdown before signing their names onto a piece of paper that would change the rest of my life.

 Chapter 4: The other side of the Glass

    We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.


    -Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night


    As I slowly awaken from my slumber, a sudden chill and dampness on my face causes me to let out a tired groan. Opening my bleary eyes, I see a view full of white and green.


    Using careful, deliberate movements, sharp-clawed hands remove Kirlia from my forehead; he had wrapped himself around my head like a cat with separation anxiety. Warmth emanates from his body, contrasting with the chilly air surrounding us.


    Becoming more conscious, an unexpected sight catches my eye- a damp patch on my pillowcases. Curiosity piqued, I lean in and take a cautious sniff, but there isn''t any discernible scent. Sitting up, I feel something wet on my face, and upon closer inspection, I realize it''s a thin layer of drool.


    Shaking my head in disbelief I try to recall the fragments of my dream. It''s like a fading lightbulb flickering in my mind, but eventually, a memory resurfaces - chasing an Abra in my dream. Without a second thought, I pick up my Kirlia under his armpits and extend my arms away from me.


    "Damn it, Kirlia," I halfheartedly whisper yell at him, feeling a mixture of annoyance and affection for my psychic Partner.


    "I''m going to have to buy some cologne or something to mask your scent. You smell too much like food to me. And you just had to wrap yourself around my head last night, didn''t you!" I complain to the half-asleep Kirlia.


    Drowsily, one eye blinks, followed by the other, before he yawns and falls asleep right there in my arms, his head lolling to one side. All of my mock anger disappears into mist on the wind. There really is no point in being angry at Kirlia. He couldn''t have known any better, and with his refusal to sleep in his Pokeball, I should have predicted something like this would happen.


    With a heavy sigh, I slowly swing my legs out from under the warm blankets. I can feel the tension in my back as I twist around and eventually manage to release a satisfying crack from my spine before finally standing up, still holding Kirlia in my arms.


    After a brief moment of contemplation, I decide to let my companion sleep in and carefully wrap him up in the soft comforter like a little green-haired burrito.


    As I look at the adorable sight before me, a smile forms on my lips. I gingerly remove the soiled covers from the pillows, being extra cautious with my unwieldy claws so as not to cause any damage to the soft fabrics.


    Frustration builds up inside me at the slow pace I have to take, and in a moment of carelessness, an uncovered pillow slips from my grip and lands on Kirlia''s head. I stifle a laugh, but instead of waking up, my companion hugs the pillow and turns away from me with a grumble. My laughter only makes him grumble louder, so I try to be as quiet as possible and not to annoy him further.


    I then gathered all the pillow covers into my arms and threw them down the convenient laundry chute attached to my bathroom nook. I hoped that the cleaning crew would return the sheets to me by the end of the day.


    As I approached my workstation, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The sturdy wooden desk and the custom-built laptop on it were familiar and comforting. I glided effortlessly into the plain roller chair in front of it and pressed the power button, waiting patiently for the device to power on.


    In the dark reflection before the screen booted up, I noticed the mess of my half-dried fur. I made a mental note to clean up after I finished journaling my morning thoughts. I couldn''t help but chuckle at myself as I noticed how bedraggled I looked.


    I seemed to have taken bedhead to a level hither since unimagined by the feeble minds of mankind.


    Resting my head on one paw, I watched as the computer''s Bios information appeared on the screen, illuminating the previously dark room. Upon bootup, I noticed that I had left an online ''lab readiness'' training module open. I quickly closed the program, realizing that shutting the computer down hadn''t automatically closed those programs out.


    As I sit at the desktop computer, I can''t help but notice how different it feels from the computers Dustin used to use. The keys are reinforced with steel, and they click softly under my claws as I type. I suspect that these computers also run custom software designed to prevent accidental data loss, which is why those programs didn''t close when I shut the computer down last. But I don''t let that distract me from my task. I open the digital journal program and begin typing down my thoughts.


    I reflect on how my hunting instincts seem to be surfacing in my sleep, and I consider how I can mitigate the side effects in the future.


    After meeting my daily journal quota, I switch over to my foxfire browser to check my messages. To my surprise, I see an invitation from Professor Oak to have breakfast in one of the main cafeterias on base. I eagerly accept the invitation, looking forward to catching up with the professor over a meal.


    I''ve thus far managed to avoid large public spaces like the cafeterias, but I really did not want to decline this invitation from Oak. I owed him a lot already, and most of my aversion to places like the cafeteria stemmed from the fact that half of the people there didn''t know what I was.


    The higher-ups of the league have insisted that I create a human disguise to blend in with the facility staff. This has left me in a dilemma.


    It''s still bizarre to me that I, a literal man-eating monster, am allowed to walk amongst the staff without everyone knowing what I am. While I appreciate the opportunity to socialize, my illusionary abilities should pose some kind of security threat, right?


    I want to be honest with those I interact with, but at the same time, the idea of pretending to be a human is exciting to me. The act of mimicry satisfies me on an instinctual level. However, sooner or later, I know my true identity will be revealed. Too many individuals in the ghost and dark-type sectors of the labs already know about me, so it''s more a question of when, not if, it will happen.


    So, for as long as I can manage it, I want to enjoy the pleasure of acting like a human and being treated like one.


    After typing a quick affirmative response to Oak, I shut down the computer. Then, I pick up my xtransceiver and launch the music app. Scrolling through the artists, I settle on one of my favorite bands, ImagineDragonites, and get ready to clean myself up a bit.


    The speakers in my bathroom weren''t of great quality. However, I still enjoyed listening to music while taking showers. Before stepping into the stall, I placed the small wristwatch-like device that controlled the music onto the sink counter. Then, I turned the water on to full blast. As the hot water poured down, I began humming along to one of my favorite songs.


    ~If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me? And if I seem dangerous, would you be scared?~


    As I was singing in the shower, Kirlia suddenly appeared from behind the shower curtain. He seemed anxious, even though he could still hear me he didn''t like me being out of sight for too long. So, I gently picked him up and held him in my arms under the shower.


    Since he was already here, I decided to clean him up as well. Using my Pok¨¦mon shampoo, I lathered us both up while singing the next verse of the song. Kirlia tried to mimic me by humming along loudly.


    ~ I''ve turned into a monster, a monster, and it keeps getting stronger. ~


    ~ Can I clear my conscience? If I''m different from the rest. Do I have to run and hide?~


    As the melody of the song gradually faded away, I decided to cut the shower short. With an unspoken command, I direct Kirlia to telekinetically grab us two towels from the closet next to the shower while I turn the water off with a twist of the dial on the wall.


    Kirlia gets excited when I mention breakfast and starts skipping around the room like an eager dog that has heard the word "treat." While Kirlia is dancing, I put on a clean ranger uniform and stand in front of the mirror.


    With deceptive ease, I manipulate my image into something resembling Dustin''s old look. I meticulously adjust a few features, touching things up until everything is a bit more to my liking. Dustin''s receding hairline had been slowly developing into a deep widow''s peak, so I evened out the hairline and lightened up his dirty blonde hair into something almost bleach blonde.


    Following Richards''s advice, I added an illusionary cape and scarf around my neck and back to hide my mane and chest fluff. To further enhance my disguise, I add a deep-looking scar to my neck to give the impression that my inhumanly deep voice is due to a damaged voice box.


    With my temporary security badge in hand, I cautiously open the door and am surprised when Kirlia teleports above my head and lands on the back of my neck. Holding still, I let him climb on me until he was essentially hugging my head with his legs thrown over my shoulders.


    With an exasperated huff, I closed our door behind us and started walking down the hall toward the first security checkpoint.


    After walking for about thirty seconds, we reached the checkpoint where a security officer was stationed. The officer was stationed behind shatterproof glass in an office-like space. The officer looked confused as I scanned my badge on the terminal connected to the pneumatic doors. However, he recognized me when my profile appeared on his computer screen and granted me access through the door after a brief hesitation. I smiled at him, and Kirlia waved as I passed.


    After the security checkpoint, the hallway led to a room full of maglev elevators. Unlike traditional elevators that only go up and down, these elevators can travel horizontally as well as vertically, allowing travel from any one point of the facility to any other.


    The research facility was spread out in nine directions, each with multiple floors, so this transit system was essential.


    After scanning my badge at the maglev terminal, I selected cafeteria 2A, where Oak was located, and gave myself another quick once-over to make sure my illusion still looked good. As soon as the doors opened to our destination, I was greeted by a vast open food court surrounding a central seating area. The sheer number of people in the cafeteria made me realize that this facility housed far more people than I initially assumed.


    Upon further reflection, I concluded that the ghost/dark sector of the facility was probably understaffed for obvious reasons. Those types of Pok¨¦mon were considered the most dangerous, and it took years of certification to safely handle them. It also takes a special kind of person to willingly risk one''s life to advance mankind''s knowledge like that.


    Eyeing up the food stands ensconced along the perimeter of the food court, I decided on a place that had a bizarre combination of fried chicken and waffles. The waffles would suit Kirlia''s sweet tooth, and the fried chicken smelled fantastic to me.


    After collecting my food from the counter, I realized that I had forgotten to check where Oak was supposed to meet me. My hands were full, and it would have been difficult to search for emails on my xtransceiver. I paused for a moment outside the seating area, considering my next move.


    I inhaled deeply, hoping to catch a whiff of familiar scent. The first scent trail led me to Robert, an Absol trainer that I had met a few weeks ago. I tried my best to ignore his scent and continued my search. After wandering around for another five minutes, I finally caught Oak''s scent and spotted him sitting at a table off to the side, away from the crowd.


    He held a half-eaten breakfast sandwich in one hand, and his other hand held a mechanical pencil that smoothly glided over an ancient-looking sketchbook. The intensity of his concentration had driven away other people in the room; they likely didn''t want to disturb his concentration.


    Despite feeling hesitant, I take a seat opposite him. I placed Kirlia in the unoccupied chair beside me, and Oak acknowledged our arrival with a quick glance. As he saw Kirlia, Oak smiled and shut his sketchbook with a quiet rustling of yellowed pages.


    Shuffling my plates so that the waffles are stacked in front of Kirlia, I start shoveling chicken wings into my hungry maw without hesitation.


    "Echo, I''m happy you accepted my invitation. I understand that being around so many people might make you feel uneasy, but I want you to know that I appreciate you stepping out of your comfort zone for me," Oak says, gesturing at the food court with his half-eaten sandwich.


    After swallowing the half-chewed chicken wing in my mouth, I take a moment to respond. "Professor, I am grateful for everything you have done for me. It would not be fair to decline your invitation simply because of my... social anxiety," I say while looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping on our conversation.


    "Entirely understandable. I just wanted to talk with you for a bit before your first day of guard duty." Oak says while raising his hands in quotes for the ''guard duty'' part.


    "I find it highly probable that you will find yourself in the role of a Pok¨¦mon handler instead of being a guard for the researchers. However, I don''t imagine you would be afraid of handling ghosts now, would you?" Oak says with a knowing smile, taking a big bite of his sandwich. I nearly chuckle at the idea and lift another chicken wing to my mouth before replying.


    "As long as I eat before my shifts, I don''t think there will be any issues."


    We sat in silence for a few minutes, eating our food. I finished my wings in less than three minutes and watched as Kirlia levitated his waffles in front of him. He had an odd habit of taking one bite of each waffle at a time, rotating them in the air after each bite, almost like a revolver''s ammo chamber.


    After we finished eating, Oak motioned for me to follow him to the trash area where we placed our trays on top of the stands. We then walked around the food court aimlessly, with Kirlia following along.


    As we walk, Oak greets a few well-wishers before we are finally left to our own devices.


    "I generally don''t share these kinds of uncertainties with others, but now that the league has hired you as insurance, I can''t help but worry about their plans for studying the more dangerous ghosts that they have been keeping in long-term stasis. The ghost-type Pok¨¦mon in there can be extremely hazardous, even for dark types," said Oak in a casual tone.


    "I understand the risks, sir. However, I would like to continue with the course that has already been set out for me," I responded kindly, touched by his concern for me.


    Looking at me with a piercing gaze, Oak sighs and continues walking around the perimeter of the food court. Eventually, we reach the area designated for the maglevs and stop before their doors. Oak was a busy person, so it was understandable that we didn''t get much time to talk.


    "Thanks again for taking me up on the invite. I won''t be here at this facility for much longer, and it was good to talk with you one last time before I return to Kanto. You have my email and I would be delighted to hear from you again when you have the time," Oak says, proffering his hand to me for a handshake.


    I delicately grab his hand in my claws and find myself grasping onto a flash drive that Oak had somehow palmed without my noticing. When our hands separate from the shake, the drive is well hidden under the cloak of my illusions.


    We part ways without another word, and when the maglev doors close in front of me, I look at the flash drive with distaste.


    "Really. More spy bullshit? This better not be an invitation to some world-spanning shadow government or something because if it is, I''m going to flee back into the wild the first chance I get." I wine at Kirlia, who just stares at me blankly


    "Okay, maybe I''d try finding an out-of-the-way village to live in first, but you get what I mean," I explain further to Kirlia as he stops paying attention to me altogether, probably picking up that I''m really just complaining to myself.


    As I return to my room, I quickly ensure that my door is locked and that my computer is disconnected from the internet. With a deep breath, I proceeded to boot the flash drive in safe mode, determined to uncover whatever Oak wanted to tell me about. My eyes are fixed on the screen, scanning it diligently for any suspicious programs that could be lurking within, just in case.


    I am relieved to find an official-looking audit log that contains Oak''s findings regarding the Gengar incident. As I delve deeper into the log, I come across dozens of transcripts of interviews, all of which are significant in their own right. However, there is one interview that stands out, much longer and more detailed than the others.


    From the context, I can infer that Oak is speaking to the individual who attempted to access the restricted Pok¨¦mon kept within the facility''s servers during the Gengar incident.


    My eyes widen in shock as I come across a heavily redacted page from the Pok¨¦dex of said Pok¨¦mon. Despite the redactions, I can make out enough to understand that it contains one of the most disturbing Pok¨¦mon entries I have ever encountered.


    The entry describes an artificial Pok¨¦mon that was created hundreds of years ago by somehow collecting and trapping over a hundred human souls into a single object known as a keystone. This revelation unsettles me, and I can''t help but wonder what other secrets are hidden within this facility.


    Historical records suggest that this soul-capturing ritual was used as a form of punishment for criminal executions. However, the result of this practice was a mass of dark and ghost energies that became self-sustaining, almost like an ethereal nuclear fission reaction.


    Like all human-derived ghost Pok¨¦mon, this creature had no memories of the lives that constituted its existence. Even though its origins were horrendously gruesome, the Pok¨¦mon itself was remarkably calm for a ghost type, which is why it was transferred to Champion Cynthia''s care soon after the Gengar incident.


    Professor Oak''s files were both intriguing and informative, but what caught my attention most was the hint he provided on why the incident occurred in the first place. It turns out that the researcher attempting to access the restricted servers was being blackmailed by none other than Team Rocket.


    This researcher had been tasked with retrieving a Pok¨¦mon code-named ''The Spirit Tomb'' and transferring it to a private server located somewhere on the Undernet. The Gengar had been sent deliberately to act as a cover for this agent. Further investigations by Oak revealed that Team Rocket was actively seeking out Pok¨¦mon with verifiable human origins, such as Frostlass, Yanmask, and Phantump, and was investing substantial resources towards acquiring them for some reason.


    It quickly became apparent why Professor Oak had shared this information with me. As the only known Pok¨¦mon with a debatably intact human soul within them, any research being conducted by Team Rocket regarding human-based Pok¨¦mon would likely target me as well.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Upon reflecting on my situation, I realized that Team Rocket might not be aware of my existence yet, or they might not be in a position to take any action against me. However, this realization shed light on at least one of the reasons why the league was insisting that I try going incognito for as long as possible.


    It was disconcerting to think that even the esteemed researchers within the league were being heavily scrutinized for any ties to Team Rocket. This implied that Rocket influence had seeped into the highest levels of the Pok¨¦mon community, which was a disheartening thought.


    Although this newfound information did not change my predicament, it certainly made me more vigilant about the people I would be collaborating with in the future. Moreover, I couldn''t help but wonder about the other Pok¨¦mon that the league might be keeping under wraps. The mere existence of Pok¨¦mon like Spiritomb raised the question of what other species were deemed dangerous enough to necessitate my inclusion as an additional security measure.


    <hr>


    Shortly after Oak and Rowan left site 6, I completed all the necessary lab safety courses and read through the standard operating procedures for my new temporary job as a security consultant. Even Richard stopped by to congratulate me and give me some "advice" for the job.


    He quoted a line from a kids'' movie about ghosts being friends, not food - something I only half-remembered from Dustin''s memory and was pretty sure was supposed to be about fish, not ghosts. I told him his joke was in terrible taste and kicked him out of my room with a smile and a shake of my head.


    On my first day, Juniper emailed me with instructions for my assigned lab location and how to get there from my dorm room. I dressed up in my Ranger uniform and brought Kirlia with me in his Pokeball, and I headed to the lab in my human guise.


    As I swiped the security keycard to gain access to the room, I was taken aback to find Juniper already inside, accompanied by three other individuals who were all clad in lab coats. The laboratory space before me felt eerily similar to my own high-security enclosure, but what struck me as odd was the adjacent room, typically reserved for housing Pok¨¦mon, now empty except for a bulky CRT TV. The room seemed to have been built around the outdated television set, devoid of any doors.


    "Echo, it''s great to see that you''ve arrived on time. Allow me to introduce Luna, Ontaro, and Devan. They are the core members of the ghost research division here at site 6, and you''ll be collaborating with each of them closely in the coming weeks," Juniper announced as she proceeded to introduce each person by name.


    I managed to respond in a somewhat rigid tone, "It''s a pleasure to meet all of you. I am looking forward to working together."


    "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Echo! We''ve heard some rumors about you, but we weren''t sure what to believe until Juniper confirmed a few things for us," Luna the silver-haired woman says


    "Ah, I see; my¡­condition isn''t an issue with any of you, then?" I ask hesitantly


    Ontaro, the man with bright orange hair, scoffs at my comment with a dismissive wave of his hand. As he approaches, he places a muscular arm around my shoulder, shattering my illusionary fa?ade of humanity. He continues speaking without pause, "Pff, Echo, you have no idea the shit we''ve seen."


    Devan, who had not spoken yet, sighed and ran his hand over his tired-looking eyes. He began to speak without looking at anyone in particular. "You don''t even make the top ten list for the scariest things I''ve seen in this lab. You''ll understand what I mean soon enough as Juniper here won''t be starting you off with something small today."


    "I apologize for springing this on you, Echo, but this project is of critical import to the league as a whole." Juniper explained. "It''s the main reason I requested your temporary assignment to the security forces, in fact. I was hoping you could provide a fresh perspective on the case in addition to your ability to handle the subject directly. That is if you are willing?"


    "I don''t mind really. Just give me the details, and let''s see what we are working with here."


    During the next few minutes, I received a briefing on the test subject and the objectives set by the league. The creature in question is a Rotom, a unique electric/ghost hybrid that is particularly challenging to contain and study. Although the use of Pokeballs is theoretically possible, there is still a debate regarding whether the Pok¨¦mon can possess the Pokeball after being captured. As a result, the league has been hesitant to rely on them for long-term containment up until now.


    Through careful experimentation, the league discovered that old CRT Televisions are the ideal environment to contain the Pok¨¦mon while also keeping it docile. Our current subject was discovered in an old mansion in Sinnoh and was transported to this research station inside the TV for further study.


    Rotom had to be transported inter-regionally because of its unique phasing abilities granted by its hybrid ghost/electric type. Special insulation was required to contain it, which could only be obtained from the scales of the Dark/Ground type Krookodile line found natively here in the Unova region.


    The TV itself isn''t even allowed to be plugged into an electrical outlet; instead, it has to be powered via wireless EM transmission so that no direct electrical wiring can be used to bridge an escape route.


    "Okay, wait, I''m a bit confused," I say while starting to read the threat assessment portion of the report. "The containment seems solid, but why is it classified as a grade 3 threat? Its case file doesn''t even mention any injuries or fatalities associated with it."


    Devan looks up from the static-filled television and begins to explain, "There are several reasons why this non-violent ghost is considered to be more dangerous than others. Firstly, it can move through electrical lines and take control of anything with an electrical motor."


    Coming to a realization, I interrupt Devan to exclaim, "Wait, is that why it''s called Rotom!? It''s just Motor spelled backward? Who names these things?" I ask incredulously


    Devan continues his speech with a hint of annoyance, avoiding eye contact. "Secondly, Rotom can sustain itself by feeding off electricity or the life force of psychics, which, as it happens, includes most of humanity, regardless of our proficiency in aura manipulation."


    Before Devan could finish listing his points, Luna interjected with her own, "Third and most importantly, it reproduces through mitotic division, which means there is no incubation time for eggs to hatch. This makes it capable of explosive exponential growth given the right environmental factors."


    While contemplating the unique biology of Rotom, I realized how dangerous its reproductive cycle could be. According to its description, Rotom needs an airtight vacuum and electrical current to reproduce, an environment like the inside of the old TV''s Cathode Ray tubes. It''s a good thing that this is the case, as such a specific reproductive necessity has thus far prevented mass outbreaks of these little electrical ghosts.


    It''s no surprise that the league has classified Rotom so high on the threat scale. However, I can''t help but wonder if the threat rating is still a bit inflated, considering Rotom''s nature seems to be inherently benign.


    Although, if Rotom were to be accidentally released, containing it would be a major challenge. All net and electrical grid connections to any area with an infestation would serve as potential vectors for the creature to spread uncontrollably across the world. Moreover, any vehicle used to transport rangers to capture the Rotom would become a host device for the creature to possess and escape with.


    "I see why the threat rating is so high now. So, what does the league want us to do with it?" I ask wearily.


    Devan whispers his reply in a monotone voice, "The league wants us to mass produce it."


    I look at him strangely, trying to figure out if he''s joking or not, but find the other researchers deathly serious.


    "Okaaay, if it''s such a potentially dangerous species, why would the league want more of these things around?" I ask slowly.


    With a fervent passion, Juniper elaborates on the benefits of having a Rotom, emphasizing the most compelling one. According to her, Rotoms possess the ability to ''digest'' psychic energy and transform it into powerful electrical currents. This remarkable capability means that with a Rotom bonded to them, a human could potentially power a wide range of appliances and even low-powered vehicles.


    What''s more, the cost of using Rotom''s as an energy source are relatively minimal, requiring only a bit of psychic energy that most humans cannot meaningfully access anyway. For the average person, their latent psychic energy is useless to them, but with a Rotom, that energy could be used to generate electricity. Juniper further supports her explanation by presenting some diagnostic pictures and opening a map of Galar.


    "Regions like Galar that are facing huge energy crises are desperate for clean energy solutions, and Rotom''s seem to be the golden gun we''ve been looking for. There would be no need to import vast quantities of solid fuels like coal or oil over dangerous open oceans because we can send Rotoms through the net. So long as we can properly domesticate the species and find a way to reliably instigate miotic division on demand, the league is confident in implementing Rotom-powered technologies within the next decade." Juniper energetically exclaims


    "Holy shit, alright. I can see why the league wants this Pok¨¦mon so badly. It would be a game-changer for sure." I say, then take a few more minutes to properly re-read through the Rotoms profile.


    "Okay, I see that you''ve managed to create two other Rotom so far, now housed at site three and site one¡­ huh, it looks like you had success confirming the conditions needed to allow for miotic division, so what''s stopping you from just continuing?" I ask, trying to make heads or tails of the complex electrical formulas attached to the Rotoms file.


    "The problem is that recently whenever we try to bud off a new Rotom, the electrical charges that we inject into the enclosure have been just disappearing. Despite injecting a considerable amount of electricity, we haven''t been able to create any new Rotom. We stopped further testing when our health and safety Contractor''s Absol started refusing to enter this room anymore," explains Ontaro with a sigh.


    "Okay, ya, that''s never a good sign. I suppose the worst-case scenario would be that there are a large number of Rotom somehow hiding in the enclosure, right? I see from your scans that you can only detect one Rotom within the TV, and you''ve previously confirmed that more than one Rotom cannot possess the same device too. So, what does that leave?" I say, walking over to the Faraday caged enclosure window and gazing into the Rotom''s room, trying to spot any hidden electrical ghosts.


    The room was eerily bare as if it had been stripped of everything except for the flickering TV. The TV cast an ominous light on the otherwise dark room, making me feel uneasy. I wondered if I could find any clues if I went inside and took a closer look.


    As I approached, I noticed an insulated passthrough that was wall-mounted in the corner of the observation window. It seemed like I could pass my Pokeball through it.


    Juniper noticed me looking at her speculatively as I pulled out my Pokeball from the chain around my neck. Before I could say anything, she quickly typed in a request on her tablet to get some mareep wool from storage to be used as protective gear for me.


    We quickly came up with a plan, and within a couple of hours, I found myself getting dressed to enter the Rotom enclosure. My heart thunders in my ears, and despite having no sweat glands, I feel the phantom desire to wipe the sweat away from my forehead, likely some kind of lingering human muscle memory from Dustin.


    Taking my Pokeball off the magnetic chain around my neck, I hand it to Devan, who places it into the wall-mounted passthrough. The passthrough looks like a small glass box, and I am grateful that I am not claustrophobic. Otherwise, going back into my Pokeball and being pushed through this glorified mailbox would be more distressing than it already is.


    After some fiddling, a timed recall function was set up on my Pokeball. I then wrapped myself up in the mareep wool insulation and prepared myself for the unpleasant experience of being shoved back into my Pokeball. As I waited, a beam of red energy inevitably struck me, and the world around me flickered and transformed into blue smokey fire again. The sensation was familiar now, so I felt more in control this time.


    I allowed the feeling to wash over me as the research team remotely opened the other side of the passthrough facing the Rotom enclosure. As the passthrough door opened, I summoned my aura to push open my Pokeball and found myself standing inside the enclosure. The air was thick with the sweet, smokey scent of ghost-type aura, which was surprisingly pleasant. I couldn''t help but take a deep breath and enjoy the aroma, even though I knew I had to maintain my composure in front of the researchers.


    As I took a step towards the TV, I felt a sudden burst of electricity shoot out of the screen. The electricity zipped around the room wildly, creating a dazzling display of light and sound.


    The Rotom moves with lightning speed, its small body banging against the insulated walls like a frantic hummingbird desperately trying to escape. Its quick, jerky motions awaken something primal within me, a predator instinct that reminds me of a cat chasing a laser pointer.


    The Rotom''s panicky attempts to find an exit paradoxically draw it closer to me. Suddenly, as it darts too close to my head, I instinctively snap my jaws around it. The electric discharge from the Rotom is like pop rock candy on my tongue, a mix of electricity and ghost energy that sends a shiver down my spine.


    Although I have enough self-control not to hurt it, I still feel guilty as I drop the traumatized, disoriented, and drool-coated Rotom onto my open claw. Surprisingly, the little lightbulb-like Pok¨¦mon doesn''t immediately run away. Instead, it stares at me with confusion, as if asking itself, ''How/why am I not dead right now?''


    As I try to release the Rotom from my grasp, it jumps back onto my palm as if it expected my claws to be the only safe haven in the room. I look back at the researchers and find them all tensely watching my actions. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and I can feel their eyes judging my every move.


    It''s not a great look for me, considering I almost ate the lab specimen, but there isn''t much I can do about it now. I''m just glad Richard wasn''t here to see this. For the time being, I allow the Rotom to remain where it is and proceed to investigate its enclosure.


    Upon approaching the walls, something strange occurs with the Rotom in my hand. I can feel its tiny body being repulsed from the walls, almost like similarly charged magnets. The sensation is both eerie and fascinating, and I can''t help but feel a sense of wonder at this strange phenomenon.


    There is no rhyme or reason to it, though. No specific spot seems to induce the effect, and the repulsive force seems to come and go at random intervals, leaving me both bewildered and intrigued.


    As I inspected the walls, a nagging suspicion lingered at the back of my mind. I couldn''t shake the feeling that something was amiss. I probed the walls with my sharp claws and discovered an air gap between two layers of the Krookodile insulation. The gap was relatively thick, and I estimated it to be around 3 to 5 inches. Such a space was ample enough to accommodate juvenile Rotom.


    I shared my concerns with Juniper and requested her permission to make a small hole in the wall. I explained that there might be Rotom stuck inside the walls. Juniper provided me with a tube of insulation glue through the passthrough to fix any holes I created after my investigation.


    With a quick jab of my free claw into the wall, my suspicion was confirmed. A small juvenile Rotom emerged from the hole and started zipping around the room. The Rotom in my hand seemed agitated by the newcomer, and I suspected that the main Rotom probably had found a way to dump its duplicates inside the walls somehow.


    Did the Rotom realize it was receiving more food and electricity once it started dumping its offspring in the walls?


    Regardless, my task now was to extract the remaining Rotom''s without damaging the inner wall too much. It was a delicate operation, and I knew I had to be careful.


    After a few minutes of debating what to do next, the researchers and I decided that I would make a second hole on the opposite side of the room and use low-powered dark pulses to flush the Rotoms out. We would then use lab-registered Pokeballs to collect the hoard.


    The plan worked well, but we underestimated the number of Rotoms that had been produced. The Rotoms flooded into the enclosure like a swarm of bright, angry bees. Hundreds of little shocks peppered me on all sides, and if it weren''t for my insulating clothes, I''d likely be paralyzed and helpless by now. The researchers began to panic as the swarm swirled and discharged thousands of volts into the area, roughly frying the old TV in the process.


    As the swarm of Rotom attacks me with little electric shocks, I don''t give in to panic. Instead, my anger grows exponentially with every bite of electricity that pierces through my body. My frustration reaches its peak, and I let out a menacing growl that echoes throughout the room. Suddenly, the space is flooded with an outpouring of liquid-like dark energy-infused illusion that engulfs everything in its path.


    The power of my attack is so strong that the walls vibrate with its force, creating a ripple effect that reverberates throughout the room. The Rotom, once so confident and aggressive, are now immobilized midair in fear and pain. Their ethereal bodies sustaining damage only when they try to move in the dark energy-saturated air.


    Panting with the effort of sustaining my immobilizing attack, I turn to face the stunned researchers.


    "Well?! Start putting Pokeballs through the Passthrough already; I can''t hold this forever!" I bark commandingly at them.


    With a newfound sense of urgency, they frantically grabbed Pokeballs one after the other and shoved them through the passthrough until I had enough to capture all the suspended Rotom. Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief as I successfully caught them all. Turning to face the researchers, I flashed them a toothy grin.


    "Well, that was quite an eventful first day on the job. What do you have for me next?"

 Chapter 5: Clinical Trials and Combat Practice

    "Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you." ¨D L.R. Knost


    "Are you sure you want to do this? You don''t have to volunteer for this kind of experimental procedure anymore, and you know you are going to be bedridden for at least three days after, right?" Richard asks me, standing aside as a team of doctors prepares the ''medication'', verifying my vital signs and ensuring that everything appears in order for the procedure.


    "Yes, I am aware, Rich," I say, rolling my eyes. "It''s going to suck for a few days, but the benefits are just too good. If I''m going to be sent out to do field work soon, then I will take every advantage I can while I''m still here." I say with finality


    Richard lets out an exasperated sigh, his body language conveying his frustration. Despite his disagreement with my decision, he stands firm and remains in the room. He promised to watch over me throughout the treatment, even after I told him that it was unnecessary.


    The nurse approaches, carrying a syringe in her hand. She examines the needle closely, ensuring that no air bubbles remain. With a gentle tone, she reassures me that my vital signs are stable and asks if I''m ready for the injection. She positions the needle above my arm, waiting for my confirmation before proceeding.


    I confirm my readiness and, a moment later, feel the familiar cold metal sting as the needle pricks through my skin. Despite having spent a long time in the lab, I still find the experience of getting shots unpleasant. Although my first field assignment is scheduled for sometime in the next two months, the league is notoriously slow in approving anything related to me, so I had doubts.


    In the meantime, I''ve been looking into and volunteering for several experimental Pok¨¦mon training programs being conducted at Site 6 to help prepare me for whatever tasks the league may assign me.


    The first step was injecting me with a pseudo-pathogenic virus called Pokerus. Catching the virus would usually be a disaster in the field, as it would render infected Pok¨¦mon out of commission for three to five days. Depending on the environment and how rapidly the disease spreads among a person''s Pok¨¦mon, it could even be deadly.


    Typically, a vaccine containing a ''dead'' version of the virus is administered to newly captured Pok¨¦mon during their initial medical examination to prevent unwanted infections. Kirlia had gotten his shots when he was still a young ralts, so he would spend the time while I was sick in stasis within his Pokeball.


    Kirlia wouldn''t be far from me, though, as I''d hidden his Pokeball in my tangled mane. Having him always at my back was like an inseparable security blanket at this point.


    It is not widely known, but the virus known as Pokerus can actually benefit those infected with it. For example, if a Pok¨¦mon contracts Pokerus, its growth will be greatly accelerated, and any training it undergoes will be almost twice as effective. Better yet, these positive effects continue even after the Pok¨¦mon''s immune system has fought off the virus.


    Scientists are still trying to understand how the virus works, and much of it remains a mystery. Despite this, stasis technology breakthrough has allowed the league to secretly use the short-lived ''live'' virus in specialized accelerated training programs like the one I am currently participating in.


    As a result, the league''s special ops ace trainers have been able to readily train up newly captured Pok¨¦mon to elite levels in a matter of months rather than years.


    After receiving the injection, I didn''t experience any immediate effects for the first five hours. However, by the fifth hour, I started feeling a wave of shivers and muscle cramps, which quickly escalated into an overwhelming feeling of sickness. My entire body felt sore and weak, making it difficult to move or even stand up.


    The next day was a blur, as I was in a state of delirium and confusion. My memory of that day was fragmented and incomplete, as my mind was clouded by the effects of the injection. However, on the third day, as I started to feel better, Rich was comfortable enough with my recovery to show me a funny video that one of the other staff members had taken of us while I was at my worst.


    At one point in my delirious state, I had grabbed onto Rich like a teddy bear, holding him close to me licking his face affectionately, like a mother cat taking care of her kitten.


    "Ugh, no wonder my mouth tastes like ass. Jeeze rich, you could at least wash your face once in a while." I bemoan with a tired chuckle


    "Well, excuse me! I was sitting here watching over my ungrateful friend all night. So I didn''t have time to shower yesterday." Rich snarks back


    That stopped me in my tracks. Rich had stayed with me throughout the whole process, never once leaving my side except to use the bathroom or eat. An entire medical staff was watching over me, and he still chose to stay. And here I was, being unappreciative of his kindness.


    "Hey, Rich¡­Thanks for staying with me. I appreciate it, really. You don''t have to stay, you know. I''m already feeling a lot better than yesterday, and I know you are probably busy with other projects."


    "Ya ya, I know. You won''t be able to get rid of me that easily, though, I''m afraid. You may not be on my official docket anymore, Echo, but that doesn''t mean I can''t take time off to conduct my own side studies." Rich says with a smile while pulling a diagnostic readout from the medical equipment monitoring my vitals and stapling it to his lab notebook with a flourish.


    "Oh, I can just feel the love here, Rich. Why must all my friends be mad scientists?" I groan toward the ceiling


    "Hey, I resemble that remark!" He retorts back


    Despite the feeling of sickness, I was grateful to be lying under the warm blankets with good company beside me. As the days passed, my health gradually improved, and by the fifth day, I had almost completely recovered. On these last few days of my sickness, Rich kindly lent me his laptop, which I used to browse the internet. I was more interested in passing the time than accomplishing anything in particular.


    With a smirk, I changed his default browser to Foxfire. Not just because I thought it was funny for me to use but because I actually preferred it.


    Really, it was his fault for using Explorer in the first place!


    A message popped up on the screen as I was trying to access a new forum I had recently discovered. This prompt was a common measure used by many websites to prevent computer bots from flooding their sites, but its wording was somewhat amusing, given my situation.


    I couldn''t help but grin and complain loudly that the site was discriminating against Pok¨¦mon and wasn''t allowing me to log in. When Rich leaned over to see what I was talking about, he rolled his eyes and playfully punched my shoulder when he saw that I was complaining about the "Verify you are human" prompt box, which had a simple check box underneath.


    As I delved into the depths of a dark Pok¨¦mon care guide thread, I stumbled upon an intriguing article that provided invaluable tips and tricks for trainers regarding psychic/dark cohabitation.


    I found myself engrossed in the article, and after reading through it, I made a mental note to purchase some "full incense" as it had received glowing reviews for its effectiveness in preventing certain kinds of¡­dietary ''mishaps''. Perhaps it could be used to prevent me from drooling all over the place when Kirlia slept near me.


    After a while, my boredom led me to search ''Zoroark'' in the browser just to see what would pop up, and I clicked on the first link that appeared. My jaw dropped in shock as I scanned through the page, only to find that it mostly contained basic information on my species'' abilities and habitats. After confirming that there was nothing else to the page, I took a deep breath and turned to Richard for an answer to my burning question.


    "Why is my picture on the index page for the Zoroark Pokedex entry?" I ask calmly, rotating the screen to show Richard a picture of me peacefully curled up in the dog bed from my old enclosure.


    I didn''t really mind, but it still felt strange, sort of like having a baby picture shown to the whole world. They could have at least used a better picture than this one.


    I am aware that the league wishes to conceal my true nature, but they were still obliged to include my species in the Pokedex by interregional law, which meant they had to add a picture of me. This was done to ensure the safety of the public in case they came across the species in the wild.


    "Ah well, you were the only Zoroark the league had at that time, so it''s been the default image for a while." Rich states distractedly


    "At that time?" I ask leadingly, catching onto his word choice.


    Richard froze, his face contorting in realization as he became aware of what he had just implied. As I listened to him, my heart started racing with apprehension. I had not received any information about the capture of any new Zoroark, and the thought that my children might have evolved filled me with dread. Early evolution like that could only be triggered by intense high-stress situations. If that were the case, I would not hesitate to give the league hell for not telling me.


    "Ah, sorry. I didn''t mean to hide it from you; it''s just that I didn''t know how best to bring it up with you. It''s not like I can just say, ''Hey, Echo, want to see this video of a hunter squad cornering, beating up, and capturing your cousin.'' It just doesn''t fall into normal conversation easily." Richard replies with a nervous laugh


    Oh, thank Arceus. If something had happened to my kits I''d have gone straight feral on the league.


    "Well, come on, Rich. Tell me, how many Zoroark the league managed to capture so far? If I''d known you guys were trying so hard to capture more of my kind, I''d have given you tips." I reply wryly, fully dispelling Rich''s reluctance


    "Yes¡­ well, the league did manage to catch a pair of Zoroark in northern Sinnoh a little while back, and it''s a mating pair, so the hope is to start a breeding program with those two."


    I am delighted to hear that news. It''s something I''ve been wishing for a long time. The thought of my female kit being forced into a breeding program to save our species from extinction never sat well with me. However, I am perplexed why Rich would assume that I wouldn''t welcome this news with open arms.


    "The only other capture was by a movie producer from Verbank who managed to catch a Zoroark here in Unova. The thing I said about there being a video of your cousin being captured is quite literally true. The guy hired several elite hunters to scour the western border forest with him. He made a short nature documentary that is now in the early screening phase of production. We know the Zoroark is fairly closely related to you based on the capture scans sent to us. Likely no further off than a second cousin."


    "Okay, that''s actually quite interesting," I said, pondering the implications of a public figure now owning a Zoroark. "So, a private citizen has acquired a Zoroark and is making a documentary that chronicles its capture. How does the league feel about this? Do we expect a flood of novice trainers going into the wilds unprepared to try and catch their own Zoroarks?" I ask worriedly


    "This is not the first time a rare species has been discovered in remote areas. The league is treating it like any other Pok¨¦mon that gets brought to the public''s general attention. So far, they''ve just been sending out warnings to caution rookie trainers from venturing too deep into the wild and stuff like that. Follow ranger-patrolled areas, etcetera, etcetera, you know how it is." Richard says.


    I had never considered that my species would become known to the public before I revealed myself. However, considering the number of Pok¨¦mon enthusiasts who spend their days searching for new entries in the Pok¨¦dex, it really shouldn''t be surprising that something like this happened.


    "The league does not anticipate any significant problems from this, especially given the rarity of dark-type specialists. As for the movie directors'' captured Zoroark specifically, well, it is a male and cannot directly contribute to the repopulation initiative, so the league has no issues with him keeping it. Our sources suggest that the movie producer intends to use it in his upcoming shows to save money on special effects, of all things."


    Huh. Now that wasn''t a bad idea. Maybe when I retire from active duty, I can also get into the special effects industry. It''s hard to imagine living such a mundane life, but it is something to keep in mind that I have other options should I choose to pursue them.


    Rich then handed me a tablet and showed me a news article featuring a picture of a jovial, plump man sporting a safari outfit. The man was side-hugging a battered and obviously recently captured Zoroark. The description below the picture stated that the new species was known for its elusive nature.


    As I scrolled further down, I realized the article was a promotional piece for the man''s upcoming nature documentary, '' The Hidden Species of the World.'' The league seemed pleased to let the man provide free publicity for my species, especially given our apparent tendency to easily bond with humans based on the director''s own experience with his Zoroark, which was something not normally seen in dark-type Pok¨¦mon.


    "Huh. I wonder if the league will ask me to hunt for more Zoroark?" I hadn''t thought of going out myself for that kind of thing, but I''d probably be an ideal candidate for the job.


    "Maybe. Guess we will have to wait and find out." Rich says with a shrug


    After putting up with my constant questions for a while longer, Richard finally had enough and decided to leave my room to get some well-deserved rest on a proper bed. I expressed my gratitude to him once more before he left, and then I continued browsing for a while longer before finally settling down to sleep.


    As I drifted off, I couldn''t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next few weeks of training that lay ahead. Despite some lingering doubts about whether I would be ready for it all, I felt a surge of confidence and determination as I finally closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.


    <hr>


    After receiving a clean bill of health from the doctors, I could finally take off the medical gown I had been wearing. I was a bit confused as to why I had to wear it in the first place since it didn''t provide any modesty protection. However, I knew that it was just a procedure that had to be followed. Once I was declared healthy, I took off the gown with satisfaction.


    Since I had not yet received my ranger uniform back, I assumed I wouldn''t need clothes for the next few weeks while I underwent the rest of the training program. This was probably for the best, considering how thrashed any clothes would be if I wore them through training.


    To my surprise, I soon found myself being escorted out of my hospital room by Emily, the security director. The only times I''d really met her in person were during my initial interview with her and after the Rotom incident. I didn''t know if I should feel awkward or not, considering that I was technically naked in front of my boss at the moment.


    "Hello, Emily; I see Fangs is doing well." I manage to say while fixated on the now-evolved Galvantula clinging to her like a living backpack.


    I understood that Joltic, as a species, like to cling to hosts to feed off static electricity, but I did not think that behavior retained itself after evolution. Maybe Emily just liked having her Pok¨¦mon close at hand at all times?


    "Thank you, Echo. I see the treatment went well. How are you feeling? Are you still up for the follow-up assessment?" Emily responds neutrally


    "Yes, I feel fine at the moment. Honestly, I didn''t know what to expect after the treatment. I feel the same as I did before the procedure. Maybe Dustin read too many comics as a kid, but I was hoping for something more dramatic, like a visible increase in muscle mass," I say as I stretch my arms from side to side.


    "That''s to be expected. Pokerus does not generate results in and of itself. It''s merely a growth accelerant."


    "Right. Anyway, I''m ready for the follow-up. I assume there is going to be a battle assessment of some kind right? Oh! Does that mean we are going to use the ''real'' training fields?" I ask excitedly, trying not to bounce with each step


    "You''d be correct. I''ll be escorting you top-side to one of the open-field training grounds. It''s been a while since you''ve been above ground, so this is something of a special moment I suppose. I also wanted to talk to you about a few things while we make our way up."


    "Sounds good to me. Lead the way." I say, barely constraining my enthusiasm


    After spending quite some time underground, I eagerly looked forward to stepping outside and feeling the sun on my skin. The thought of taking a deep breath of fresh air filled me with excitement. As a dark type, living underground didn''t bother me much, but I felt the need to experience the world above. It would be refreshing to walk on the soft grass, feel the cool breeze on my face, and bask in the sun''s warmth again.


    We didn''t take an elevator as I expected. Instead, we went towards a massive staircase that appeared to stretch upwards endlessly. The size of the staircase suggesting that it would lead all the way to the surface. I''m unsure why we would take this route when the elevator would have been simpler.


    "Echo, I wanted to ask you a few personal questions while I have your undivided attention. This stairwell isn''t a monitored space, so I would like you to be honest with me ''off the record'', " Emily says seriously, slowly taking the steps upward.


    The reverb in the stairwell made the statement a bit more ominous than she probably intended, but I replied nonchalantly regardless. If she wanted my honest opinion on something, I wasn''t afraid to give it, regardless of whether it was recorded.


    "I''m all ears, Emily," I say, stepping side by side with her as we slowly ascend toward the surface level.


    "I want to know what''s driving you to push yourself like this echo. We would have given you more time if you were so worried about your first assignments. Subjecting yourself to pokerus, while scientifically valuable, was hardly necessary."


    "Not sure what you mean, Emily. Is trying to improve myself a crime all of a sudden? I figured the league would be happy with my volunteering for this battery of new training regimens." I reply with mild amusement


    "Oh, some people definitely are. But you also have to understand that your mental state is a tense subject with the league''s higher-ups, and volunteering for that kind of treatment throws up a number of red flags in the air, especially for those who are worried you feel pressured into the role of a ranger."


    Huh, I hadn''t really thought of what my actions would look like from an outsider''s perspective. I just wanted to become as strong as I could as fast as I could manage. Some part of it was probably the natural Pok¨¦mon battle drive in me, but a greater part of my decision stemmed from my desire to feel useful, be appreciated for my contributions, and find purpose in the value I bring.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I understand, Emily, but this is the path that I want to take. If I wanted to do anything else, I would have talked to you about it. I know the league would probably try to accommodate me if I decided to do something else, but I really do want to follow Dustin''s legacy." I say with finality


    Emily nodded. As I looked up the stairwell, I realized we had only made it a quarter of the way. Emily, seeing my restrained desire to bolt up the stairs, stopped at the next landing and gave me a considering look.


    "Want to see who can make it to the top fastest?" she said with a spark of challenge in her eyes.


    I quickly assessed the situation to see if she was serious and then took off past her. I didn''t know why she would pull a challenge like that out of nowhere, but I wasn''t going to deny an easy victor-


    "Come on, keep up, Echo, no time to lose!" Emily shouted above me from the other side of the guard rail, suspended midair over a 50-foot drop.


    She was using her galvantula as a living rappelling harness, and the giant bug was shooting webs up three to four floors at a time and pulling them both up at insane speed. Emily''s own efforts of landing both feet on the handrails and jumping off accelerated the maneuver in huge bursts of upward speed.


    If the crazy woman fell from there, she would drop all the way to the ground several stories down. Yet she was laughing maniacally as she shot ahead of me.


    Is this just how she always acts when there are no cameras around her?! The security Director was fucking crazy!


    Even running on all fours and pushing to my limit, I still didn''t catch up to her. When I finally got to the final floor and tackled my way through the door to the outside, I had already lost by several seconds. On the other side, she stood nonchalantly, her arms folded as if nothing had happened.


    "You, *Gasp*, cheated!" I say half crouched on the grass, barely able to catch my breath between words.


    Then, I realized that quite a few people were out in the field looking in our direction. I recognized most of them as coworkers, like Carter from my enclosure captivity days and Ontaro from the ghost research sector.


    "To be fair, I never specified a rule set, so I can''t have cheated," she replied cheekily. "Now, come along. We have a special trainer who has been waiting to test you."


    As I looked around, I noticed a person waiting at one of the squares designated for trainer battles. She was dressed in black and wore a large sun hat along with black sunglasses. My guess is that she is a baroness or something from Kalos, as trainers from other regions don''t usually dress like that. Her attire seemed impractical, to say the least, and I could barely see her face.


    As I was walking, I noticed Ontaro controlling a four-propeller camera drone using hand gestures and verbal commands. I sniffed the air and realized that the drone was being possessed by a Rotom. I was happy to see the success of the ghost sector with the Pok¨¦mon and smiled. Ontaro noticed my smile and gave me a thumbs-up, to which I waved back before letting him continue his work. I walked up to the mysterious trainer with Emily beside me, and she greeted me with an appraising gaze.


    "It''s a pleasure to finally meet you, Echo. I apologize for my lack of decorum, but I have been eagerly awaiting the chance to battle you for days now. As you can imagine, it took a lot of effort to get here, including signing numerous NDAs and filling out lots of paperwork. Would you mind if we skip the formalities and get straight to the battle?" The trainer spoke with eager anticipation and barely restrained battle lust.


    With a grin on my face, I eagerly accepted her challenge. Emily gave me a brief rundown of the battle rules, but I was too excited to pay much attention. I couldn''t wait to see what kind of Pok¨¦mon my opponent would use first. The Rotom drone hovered overhead, ready to record every moment of the match.


    My challenger announces, "Go, Lucario!" as she throws a Pokeball into the air unleashing a powerful monster of its species.


    The trainer instructed Lucario to attack with a bullet punch with only a hand gesture. This caught me off guard as only psychics and elite trainers could accurately command their Pok¨¦mon nonverbally. The fact that I didn''t sense any psychic abilities from her earlier meant that this trainer was highly skilled.


    Dodging the bullet punch to my chest, I jumped back to create some distance between my opponent and me. Acting on instinct, I created an illusionary blanket of darkness that covered the entire area. I could see through the darkness, but I hoped it would blind my opponent.


    However, before I could even finish thinking of what to do next, Lucario broke through my illusion and slammed me into the ground with another bullet punch to my face. In the split second before impact, I noticed Lucario had closed its eyes and wasn''t even seeing my illusions!


    ''Aura sight!'' I cursed internally before dispersing the illusions and rolling out of the way of another punch directed at my face.


    The Lucario charged towards me with fierce, unrelenting force that left me completely on the back foot. Its lightning-fast movements made it almost impossible for me to dodge or gain any distance. I tried to strike back with concentrated dark pulses and slashes, but that only made the Lucario hit me back harder.


    I soon realized I had to abandon that line of attack before my opponent gained enough retaliatory power boosts to one-hit me. As I struggled to think of a new plan to defeat this monster, a burst of inspiration struck me.


    I pondered if I could win the match with a human style of combat since I couldn''t match my opponent in speed or power. A grin spread across my face as the plan solidified in my mind. When Lucario charged toward me again, I let it get into my personal space as I prepared to execute my new plan.


    Tanking a bone-bruising gut punch, I grabbed the outstretched arm and kicked out one of Lucario''s legs from under it. The hit did little to no damage, but it caused the Lucario to go to one knee for long enough that I could twist around and drag the Lucarios arm into a facsimile of a Judo Lock.


    As I executed my plan, the onlookers watched in astonishment. Despite being significantly weaker, my strategy rendered the much stronger Pok¨¦mon immobile. Lucario''s strength was irrelevant, as it did not have the leverage to throw me off. Moreover, I had enough power to dislocate its arm if necessary. As Lucario futility struggled in my hold, I looked at the trainer and asked.


    "I think you should forfeit. I don''t want to injure your Lucario too badly here." I say while struggling to maintain my hold.


    There was a pause before she brought up her wrist to reveal some sort of bracelet.


    "Nope! Now we get serious!" She proclaims with a vicious grin


    A wave of aura washes over the field, and then I''m thrown back by a burst of power emanating from Lucario''s now glowing form. I gaped in shock as the Lucario changed right in front of my eyes.


    When Lucario finally rose from the ground, it cast an unamused glare at me for having pinned it for so long. I felt that perhaps I shouldn''t a did that.


    As it pulled its paws together, a glowing blue sphere of fighting energy formed. Its orange eyes locked onto mine, promising pain. The sheer volume of aura in the air made me freeze in fear. The pressure of the building aura sphere''s power made it difficult for me to form a plan of action before the attack was launched.


    As Lucario launched its fierce attack at me, I felt a sudden surge of energy within me. My instincts took over, and I found myself mirroring the same stance as the powerful Pok¨¦mon in front of me. Feeling its aura in the air, I somehow managed to form and launch an aura sphere of my own. In awe, I watched as our attacks collided in midair, creating a cloud of energy smoke that burst into the air.


    I had no idea how I''d managed to create such a powerful fighting-type attack but I wouldn''t let it go to waste. The aura pattern I instinctively grasped from the attack was rapidly escaping my mind, but I still managed to repeat the feat. With quick reflexes, I formed a second, smaller aura sphere and launched it through the smoke cloud, anticipating Lucario''s next move.


    Just in time, the mega Lucario burst through the smoke cloud, only to be met by my aura sphere smashing explosively into its left leg.


    With one of its legs injured, I could now barely outrun the relentless monster and avoid its devastating physical attacks. Whenever Lucario attempted to shoot more aura spheres at me, I duplicated the attacks and fired weaker variants with precise accuracy to detonate the stronger spheres before they could reach me.


    As I faced off against the fearsome monster, I knew I was no match for its sheer power. Still, I had to develop a strategy that would give me some kind of advantage. I decided to ration my own energy and try to outlast my opponent; it bled aura in waves to maintain its mega evolution, so I would hopefully gain the upper hand eventually.


    For what felt like an eternity I dodged around and only struck back when I could get away with it. My opponent retaliated with ferocity, but I held my ground, conserving my energy as much as possible.


    Finally, after what seemed like an endless battle, the mega-evolution reaction petered out, and the monster''s form began to shift back.


    "That''s enough." The mystery trainer calls out as the mega evolution dispelled completely


    Reluctantly, the Lucario limps back to its trainer to receive a few potion sprays to its injured leg before being returned to its Pokeball.


    Flopping on my back with heaving exhales, I lay on the ground, completely exhausted by the protracted battle.


    Ultimately, I hadn''t even won; that beast of a Pok¨¦mon was still fighting fit. It just wasn''t fast enough with an injured leg to finish the job. Aura spheres seemed to be its preferred ranged option, and my newfound ability to copy the move as it was being performed allowed me to effectively negate the attack.


    Now, I just had to figure out how the hell I was even managing to copy the move to begin with.


    Three people enter my vision as I stare up at the Rotom drone hovering high above us in the beautiful, cloudy blue sky. The mystery trainer diverts my attention as she gives me a congratulatory shoulder pat before sitting beside me on the grass. She also seemed to be enjoying the fine weather as she smiled up at the sky.


    Emily is standing to the side, watching me to make sure I''m okay after the long fight. Surprisingly, the third person on the field was Carter, whom I hadn''t seen in a while. I had assumed he''d transferred facilities, and I felt bad for not checking if he still worked at site 6.


    On my other side, my old music instructor kneels next to me and opens a bag that smells like heaven. He offers me two small leppa berries and a fat sitrus berry.


    "Long time no see, Echo! You put on quite the show! I figured you might want an after-battle snack after all that!" the cheery man says as I gladly wolf down the berries without hesitation.


    "Hmmm, I''m glad my performance was up to your standards. Hey, quick question for you. You studied my genes and aura extensively back when I was a lab subject, right? I don''t suppose you have any idea how I managed to copy Lucario''s aura sphere, do you? I didn''t think aura spheres were a genetically inheritable attack, but I can''t think of any other reason I could perform it besides my sire being a Lucario."


    "Ah, I can answer that, actually." The mystery trainer interjects while taking off her large sun hat and sunglasses.


    To my shock, flowing blond hair cascades down from underneath the headwear, revealing a rather notorious individual beneath.


    "Champion Cynthia!" I yelp in surprise as the living legend smiles brightly back at me


    "Yup," she says, popping the ''p.'' "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier, but I figured you might have this kind of reaction. I didn''t want you to get distracted during the battle or feel like you didn''t have a chance at winning." She says while scratching the back of her head sheepishly


    Of course, I didn''t stand a chance! She''s arguably the top battler in the world¡­and from Dustin''s memories of watching the last league championships, I knew that her Lucario could use ''Life Dew'' to heal itself. She''d been going easy on me that entire time!


    "I noticed how you analyzed Lucario''s aura sphere during the battle, and I''ve seen that behavior before. You weren''t inherently performing ''aura sphere'', but rather, I believe you were performing ''copycat''. It''s a rare move that you still probably inherited from your Lucario ancestry, but it only allows you to mimic a move that you''ve seen for a temporary period. You won''t be able to retain the attack indefinitely." Cynthia explains.


    "Okay, wow, I''ve never even heard of something like this before. This opens up so many strategies I hadn''t even considered before. If I bait an opponent into attacking me with the right moves, I can shift the flow of the entire battle in my favor." I say while thinking of all the ways I could use this newfound ability of mine


    It was weird that this was the first time I''d discovered the ability. Still, with how much aura Cynthia and Lucario were throwing around and the fact that stress in battles makes Pok¨¦mon learn moves faster, it wasn''t actually all that strange. It was just weird being on the other end of the trainer/Pok¨¦mon divide since all my memories of conventional battles were from Dustin''s perspective.


    Another realization occurred to me: if Cynthia could identify the move on-site with such assurance, it probably meant that her Lucario could perform the same, and that wasn''t something she''d demonstrated in previous league matches.


    "You might have guessed already, but Lucario also knows copycat. It''s one of our secret aces, and I would appreciate it if you didn''t spread it around if at all possible. Copycat is an extremely rare ability, usually only manifesting in aura-sensitive Pok¨¦mon." Cynthia says


    "Of course, I won''t reveal it to anyone," I say before giving Cynthia a speculative look. "I can''t help but wonder why you are really here, though. Surely someone as busy as you doesn''t have the free time to travel between regions just to battle with random Pok¨¦mon like me, sapience or not."


    "Actually, I do have some free time at the moment. I take breaks from league-related work to go exploring ruins, and occasionally, I help train special assets for the league," Cynthia whispered conspiratorially. She then continued in a normal voice, "Many people only see me as a great battler, but they forget that one needs to be the best trainer in order to become the best battler."


    "Wait, so you mean-"


    "Yup," Cynthia says, repeating her earlier reply. "I will be personally overseeing the training program that you and your Kirlia will be participating in for the next two weeks. You signed up to beta test the new experimental training equipment for the league, which, by my presence, you can tell is no joke." She says seriously before continuing


    "I need to know how effective and safe it is for the Pok¨¦mon using it before I approve its certification for a limited production run. You are an ideal candidate for providing me with direct user feedback." Cynthia chuckles as a glimmer of eager anticipation burns beneath her happy fa?ade.


    "I- I don''t know what to say other than thank you and when do we get started?" I ask


    Her smile turns predatory at my question, and the next thing I know, I''m being fitted with a blue anklet and a red bracer right there in the middle of the grassy field. She didn''t even give me time to sit up from my prone position. I hadn''t known she had the items on her, but with how enthusiastic she was at the prospect of training me, I really should have guessed.


    "All right, let''s start out with three laps around the field and see how you feel."


    Without hesitation, I get up and start running along the perimeter of the vast grassy field. However, after the first lap, I already sense my energy levels dropping. My anklet and bracer start to feel like heavy weights on my limbs, making it increasingly difficult to keep up the pace.


    "NO SLOWING DOWN, KEEP UP THE PACE!" Cynthia yells from the center of the field, watching my movements like a hawk eyeing injured prey.


    As I push myself harder, my muscles start to ache. During the second lap, Kirlia suddenly appears from the Pokeball hidden in my hair and grabs onto my back like a baby sloth. I''m unsure why he left his Pokeball, but I feel frustration as his added mass weighs me down.


    Through our bond, I sense that he''s aware of my growing distress and fatigue. Just as I''m about to return him to his Pokeball, our bond opens up, and a wave of psychic energy rushes into my body. I''m surprised as the energy rapidly dissolves into my muscles like sugar being added to water, giving my body a significant speed boost.


    Instead of slowing on the last lap, I rocket forward, blurring around the field using psychic-fueled reinforcement. My perception of the world slows, yet even with my increased speed, I still see Cythia''s piercing gaze tracking me without effort.


    After the last lap, I relax marginally and ask Kirlia to stop funneling energy to me. This, however, turns out to be a mistake, as the sudden loss of energy promptly causes all my leg muscles to fail. Simultaneously.


    As I stumbled and fell, my face skidded across the soft grass. Eventually, our momentum dwindled, and we came to a stop. Kirlia popped his head out from my red mane and cheered as if we had just won a race. I was too exhausted to move and groaned pitifully. Cynthia quickly came over to us and gently lifted Kirlia off my back.


    A second groan escaped me, this time in relief as Cynthia gently lifted Kirlia''s extra weight off my back. Then, she rolled me over onto my back, causing me to wince.


    "Hmm, that was a stronger reaction than I initially anticipated. If the strain is that high, we may have to limit the item usage to one at a time," Cynthia ponders as she affectionately pats Kirlia''s head with her free hand.


    Cynthia observes with interest, "That boost of speed at the end was unusual. It appeared like the move ''Agility,'' which is not typically seen in dark types other than Sharpedo. And even for Sharpedo, it requires a diet rich in Starmie meat to utilize the psychic energy effectively." After examining me for any injuries, she sits beside my head and waits patiently for me to recover my breath.


    "Ya, Kirlia boosted me with psychic energy there at the end. I don''t think Kirlia and I could transfer energy at a distance as you do for mega evolution, but as long as Kirlia is nearby, he can boost my speed."


    "Thats quite interesting. However, I suggest taking caution to ensure that none of your dark energy backflows to Kirlia. Dark energy may have harmful effects on Kirlia, unlike your own body, which is accustomed to processing psychic energy as a source of fuel."


    "Ah, good point. I''ll try to keep that in mind¡­ I don''t suppose we can take a break now?" I ask pleadingly


    Cynthia smiles at the question, and for a brief moment, I feel relief before she answers.


    "Of course not. I had Carter requisition nearly 5 pounds of Leppa berries to keep you going. We aren''t even halfway done with today''s training!" Cynthia says cheerfully


    The gleam of excitement in her eyes caused me to whimper involuntarily. Sadly, I did currently not have the energy to run away from the battle maniac.

 Chapter 6: Gather the Team We Have A Mission

    "Society tames the wolf into a dog. And man is the most domesticated animal of all." - Nietzsche


    <hr>?


    A tired groan escapes me as my alarm clock''s siren wail bleeds its piercing screech right into my soul. Fumbling blindly toward the nightstand, sharp claws dig into the soft wood somehow missing the stupidly persistent device once, twice, until finally, a weak dark pulse clears the entire side table of all its contents, silencing the dreaded enemy once and for all.


    A few blissful seconds pass before wakefulness settles its greedy fangs into me, and the hope of 5 more minutes of sleep dies a tragic death.


    Rolling over from my facedown position, I glance at the wall I may have just peppered with alarm clock shrapnel and wince as I see Kirlia''s Pokeball embedded halfway into the drywall. Ever since the extra training sessions with Cynthia, Kirlia had refused to sleep in ''real space''. Likely because he couldn''t feel his sore muscles while inside there.


    I''d debated doing the same and sleeping in my ball, but alarm clocks weren''t as effective in waking me up while I was inside one. I still don''t understand how I could perceive the ''outside'' world while effectively being converted into energy. Still, I don''t have the free time to get a theoretical aura physics degree like Richard, so all I can really do is shrug and ignore it.


    Not yet ready to start the morning, I find myself staring at the ceiling in the dim lighting of my room. Lifting my ''hand'' into the air I inspect the three red-clawed digits, flexing them into a loose fist and then back out again. It''s strange to think that the keratin-like material they are made of is harder than steel yet flexible enough to manipulate objects without much difficulty.


    And there it is again, that strange bit of human curiosity that is both an intrinsic part of my mind now and a foreign object constantly pulling my thoughts with inane questions.


    "Well, Dust." I say to myself with a sigh "It looks like another day of fun ahead of us. It''d be nice if the league could get their shit together and just send us on a mission already." I quietly mutter


    Letting my upraised limb flop back down to the bed, I try not to think about anything for just a minute, but the aches in my sore muscles refuse to let my thoughts settle.


    "I don''t know how much more of Cynthia''s training I can stand." I groan at the ceiling while covering my eyes with my arm.


    Of course, there is no answer. Dustin Smith certainly isn''t here; the only thing left of him is a distant memory in my mind. Every complex thought or emotion I have, though, feels like it belongs to him, but if that were true, that just made me a puppet on the strings of a dead man. If Dustin really was making all the choices, what was I then that was thinking these thoughts?


    "Ugh, it''s too early in the morning for an existential crisis." I grumble, finally finding the energy to roll out of bed


    Lazily putting on a fresh Ranger Uniform and plucking Kirlia''s ball from the wall, I decide to get some food from the cafeteria instead of meeting Cynthia at the training grounds. It was the weekend, after all; so if she got mad, it was her fault for not making a schedule and just assuming I''d be at the training grounds every day.


    Now, it''s not easy hiding from a league champion, even with unique abilities like mine. Especially when they know you can''t leave the facility without their permission. However, if I hide in plain sight, there might be a chance of dodging Cynthia''s ever-watchful gaze.


    I usually don''t like going to the cafeterias, but if it means getting away from that blonde battle junkie, I''ll do what I have to. Donning the illusion of humanity, I head to the elevators and pause for a second before hitting one of the top-level buttons.


    I wasn''t strictly banned from the upper-level areas per se, but I was heavily discouraged from going up here since very few people at this level had clearance to know about me. However, I felt the risk would be worth the reward.


    On paper, the upper floor cafeteria is not the best hiding spot for me, especially since many people working at this facility could blow my cover at any moment just by standing too close to me. Hell, Just from the smell in the air alone, I can tell that at least 5% of the people here are psychics.


    I don''t know if it''s a survival adaptation or what, but Psychics tend to be able to tell that something is up with me even without me speaking a word. The most likely theory I have on this was that they could not passively pick up my emotions due to my dark nature. That being said, if I didn''t want my cover blown immediately and being yelled at by the director, I''d have to try and keep my distance from the other people here.


    Paradoxically, I also didn''t want to draw attention to myself by just sitting alone; humans, the stupidly social creatures they are, might decide to come over and talk with me out of some misguided belief that I was lonely or something.


    Given the STEM field focus of most of the researchers here, you''d think there would be a lot more socially awkward people, but sadly for me, it seemed the opposite. Looking through the sea of people, I finally spot an island of salvation sitting alone with only a dark type Pok¨¦mon keeping him company at the nearly empty table.


    Sitting down next to him, the young man looks at me strangely. I couldn''t blame him; there was a large stigma against Dark-type Pok¨¦mon trainers, so someone randomly sitting down at the same table was probably a strange to him.


    "Hey, it''s Robbert, right? Long time no see. Your Absol is looking pretty sleek there. Do you do something with its hair, or is that just from a particular diet?" I say as quietly as I can get away with without drawing attention from the nearby tables. The Absol in question stands up to give me a curious sniff before wagging its tail in apparent recognition.


    There is a bit of an awkward pause as Robbert tries and fails to determine who I am. Given my voice, you''d think he''d catch on quicker, even if I was trying to be quiet. Maybe it''s just a human bias of some kind; they are a very visually focused species, after all.


    "Umm, I''m sorry. Do I know you?" Robert replies in bewilderment


    "Ah, sorry about that. Let me reintroduce myself since you seem to have forgotten. I''m Echo. We met once in the sub-lab hallway." I say while shoving nearly an entire rotisserie chicken (bones included) into my mouth, crunching down on it loudly.


    Thankfully, no one was watching other than Robert because that feat would have been physically impossible for a human.


    It takes almost a full second for it to dawn on him who and what I was, but when his eyes go comically wide, I can tell he finally put two and two together. It almost looks like he''s going to have a panic attack as his eyes dart from side to side.


    I can''t tell if he''s looking for the nearest exit or about to flag down the nearest security officer to tattle on me, which was funny, given that, technically speaking, I am the closest security officer. With Robert''s lower security clearance, the poor guy probably doesn''t know the specifics of my case and probably thinks I escaped the sub-labs or something.


    "Relax, Robert, I am allowed to be up here," I say with an eye-roll


    "b-but, you- they can''t just, I mean-" He sputters incoherently


    "Relax. You are making a scene, I only sat over here because Absol here is a rather convenient psychic repellent. Management doesn''t want everyone to know about me just yet, so I''m trying to keep things hush-hush, if you know what I mean." I say under my breath


    It takes another twenty seconds and two chicken wings for Robbert to finally calm down.


    "Sorry, I just¡­they let you eat up here?" Robbert can''t help but ask me


    "Let is a strong word. Technically speaking, I can go anywhere in the facility that I want to. Comes with a level 2 security clearance." I chirp, flashing him my security badge, which was incidentally two levels higher than his own level 4 clearance.


    That revelation causes his jaw to go slack, and I can''t help but feel some amusement at his bafflement.


    "So, are you going to answer my question or not?" I say between bites of my food


    "Uh, sorry, what question was that again?" Robert says dazedly


    "Do you give Absol hair treatments, or is it just a diet thing? Because if it''s the latter, I might have to try whatever it is because Absol coat is practically opalescent." I say while petting Absols immaculate fur and getting a happy tail wag in response


    "It''s a bit of both I guess?" Robbert says unsurely


    "You guess?" I laugh back


    "Well, I mean, I do give Absol weekly baths, but that''s nothing special. My grandmother gives me these herbal additives designed specifically for dark-type Pok¨¦mon that I feed Absol about once a month, but I have no idea what''s actually in them. Maybe they help make his coat shiny like that; I''m not really sure." He says hesitantly


    "Oh, that''s interesting. Does your family specialize in dark-type Pok¨¦mon, then?" I ask while setting aside my now empty food tray.


    "Well, my grandfather did once upon a time. I actually caught Absol here by following some tips I read from his old journals. He had an affinity for dark-type Pok¨¦mon, but because of the stigma against the type, he never said anything to the rest of the family while he was still alive. It broke Grandma''s heart that he hid it all those years, so when I decided to follow in his footsteps, she supported my decision wholeheartedly while the rest of my family practically disowned me." Robert professed


    I am struck with a strange sense of guilt for having accidentally asked such a personal question. It''s odd to realize how complex other people''s lives are. I''d been just about ready to leave the table before he unloaded that on me. So now it felt a little insensitive to just up and leave after that.


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean to trauma dump or anything like that!" Robert replies quickly after a too-long silence from me.


    "No need to apologize; I just got lost in thought, is all. I think it''s great that you are honoring your grandfather''s memory like that. Your Absol is very well taken care of, and I''m sure he would be proud of you." I say sincerely


    "Thanks; that means a lot. It''s been an uphill road for us for a while, and this lab safety position has been a nice financial break."


    A few minutes pass as I idly watch people going about their business; Robbert eventually manages to finish the food he had been neglecting since I arrived.


    "Hey, can I ask you a question? It may be a little awkward, but I think I''d regret not asking while I have the chance." Robbert says after considering something for a while


    "Well, I might not be allowed to answer, but I don''t mind you asking. What''s your question?"


    "Could you give me any tips on how to¡­catch a Zoroark?" Robbert pauses midway as if afraid to verbalize the question


    I blink in surprise but then let a wide grin spread across my face.


    "I''d be delighted to give you some tips!" I reply instantly


    "Wait, really? You aren''t mad or anything?" Robbert squeaks


    "Not at all. I think a Zoroark would suit you just fine, and I know you''d take good care of it."


    Thinking about how I might catch my own kind for a moment, I get a few ideas going and then relay them to Robbert.


    "Alright, my first recommendation is to go out on a full moon. You might already know this, but that''s usually when a lot of dark types like to go searching for mates. There are probably a few more Zoroark out in the woods out here in Unova, but It will be hard to find any normally, given our propensity to ''mark'' our territories with widescale illusions. You''ll have to get them to come to you somehow, even if they are moving around during the full moon." I note thoughtfully


    "What should I do to attract one out of its territory then?" Robber asks hesitantly


    Eyeing Roberts''s empty water bottle on the table, I stand up and grab it as I pass him by.


    "I''ll be right back. I just need to use the bathroom real quick." I say mischievously


    "Uh, Okay?" Robbert says, nonplused at my sudden exit from the conversation


    A few minutes later, I return to the table with a filled water bottle. Placing the bottle on the table, I see Robert''s confusion increase until he gets a closer look at the yellow color of the liquid inside.


    "Oh, Arceus, you didn''t do what I think you did." He asks before gingerly picking the bottle up and grimacing.


    "Gross, gross, gross, it''s warm!" He whines to me while quickly pulling up his backpack from the floor and shoving the bottle into a storage compartment.


    "Stop being a baby. I washed the outside of the bottle to make sure it was clean. Now you just have to spread that around a tree or a big clearing, and you''ll have all the Zoroark in the area checking to see who''s challenging their territorial claims. I guarantee it." I say with a grin


    "Thanks¡­I think. Although I''m pretty sure there is a clause somewhere in my contract about not smuggling biological materials from the test subjects out of the facility." Robbert mumbles


    "Ah, right, no worries, I''ll let the director know. Less awkward if I tell her what I gave you rather than you asking permission to keep it. Either way, I''m giving you that, so you aren''t technically smuggling it out or anything." I say with a grin


    "¡­Right, Ya, okay. Thanks again, Echo. I really do appreciate the help, even if I kinda want to throw up the lunch I just ate." Robbert mutters while looking a bit queasy


    "No problem. In fact, here, once you do catch a Zoroark and have any more questions for me, send a message to this email address. The league probably heavily monitors my inbox, but I''ll try to answer what I can." I say while pulling a spare notepad page from my inner shirt pocket and jotting down my lab-provided email account.


    As I attempt to leave, Robbert quickly stands up, saying, "It was an honor talking to you again, echo. I''ll make sure to get my grandmother''s recipes and send them to you if you are still interested."


    It must have been sheer habit on his part to offer his hand for the handshake, but I grinned all the same and carefully grasped his hand in my claws. His eyes bulge in surprise when he feels my inhuman claws wrap around his delicate digits.


    Finally walking away from Robert''s table, I start heading back to the elevators to see if I can catch a mid-afternoon nap back at my dorm when the sound of a piano stops me in my tracks. When I''d first entered the cafeteria, I''d spied the old grand piano in the corner but I didn''t imagine the thing got much use.


    Whoever was playing was rather good, too, and I felt oddly compelled to see who was playing this beautifully powerful melody. Maybe I''d even break out the old synthesizers from my enclosure days and see if I could play this myself.


    An instant wave of regret washes through me as I discover that the pianist is Cynthia herself. Unmistakable even with that ridiculous disguise on, I cursed her even as I was captivated by the enthralling symphony of noise. Her gaze locked onto mine, and I could already tell she knew who I was. She caught me outright with this ploy, and a self-satisfied smile appeared on her face. Without words, that smile seemed to convey what she thought, ''There you are. I''ve been looking for you.''


    I had no idea she could even play, and between the continuous eye contact and the increasing tempo of the song she played, I was all but rooted in place, unable and unwilling to move. By the time the short song ended, she had the entire cafeteria''s attention, and I wasn''t sure if it was because of the rather impressive piece of original music or because they somehow realized who''d been playing.


    Most of the room returned to normal activity when Cynthia got up from the piano bench and started walking toward me and the maglev elevators. I quickly followed behind her as she passed by, knowing full well that I''d probably be getting an earful for having skipped out on today''s training without giving notice first.


    When the elevator door closed, I was about to make excuses, but Cynthia interrupts my attempt by handing me a datapad before I could even say anything.


    "It is my understanding that you''ve been eager to get a field mission ever since your release from containment. I''d like to apologize for the wait, as it was partially my fault that the league has been holding off on you," Cynthia says while gesturing to the datapad


    When I turned it on, I saw a top-down diagram of a tree. The scale on the side of the diagram showed that the tree was nearly as big as a small mountain. My eyes widen when I realize just what I''m looking at.


    "That is the Tree of Beginning, and with your assistance, I would like to create an expedition to survey and explore its interior. The reason it''s taken so long for the league to greenlight this is because I''ve been negotiating with the nobility from the kingdom of Rota to authorize your entrance into the exclusion zone around the tree." Cynthia says


    The thought of going to such a historic location caused my heart rate to skyrocket in excitement. Even in Unova, children were told stories about Cameron Palace and how the Aura Guardians revolutionized humanity''s ability to tame and befriend wild Pok¨¦mon.


    Before their teaching spread, an individual might have a single Pok¨¦mon companion in their lifetime, but with direct aura bonding techniques, people could field nearly half a dozen Pok¨¦mon each.


    The advancement resulted in unforeseen outcomes, as it led to a level of human warfare previously unimaginable. With human armies numbering in the thousands, the potential for Pok¨¦mon fighting forces to exceed tens of thousands became a reality. This shift in power dynamics led the nobility of that era to exploit the teachings of the Aura Guardians for their own purposes.


    One day, Sir Aaron, the most powerful aura guardian in recorded history, saw the carnage his order''s teachings had wrought and refused to let it stand.


    He ascended to the summit of the majestic Tree of Beginning on the back of his loyal Pidgeot and somehow compelled the ancient tree to serve as a colossal aura transceiver, intensifying and projecting his unwavering determination outward. It is widely believed that by making the ultimate sacrifice, Sir Aaron harnessed enough power to manifest his fervent wish for peace, allowing it to reverberate throughout the entire region, much like the way a modern capture styler transmits the user''s intent to wild Pok¨¦mon.


    After Aaron''s final intervention, the Tree of Beginning turned hostile towards humanity, seeing them as a threat. Its remarkable immune system targeted any human approach with deadly force. Despite several recent attempts to explore the tree using remote-controlled drones, further exploration was halted by the league when the tree unleashed its formidable secret weapons in the form of a legendary Pok¨¦mon trio, known as Regi golems.


    Looking through the mission briefing on the datapad, I can''t help but laugh. It was like this mission was made for me. I already had much of the geographical and surveying expertise from Dustin''s memories as a scout, so no further training was really needed on my end.


    This all looked promising, so long as Cynthia was coming along to deal with the Regis we''d be golden.


    "SO, you''re telling me that my first field mission is going to be exploring the resting place of one of the greatest heroes in history?" I exhale in ecstatic disbelief


    "Yes. That about sums up it up. Even if you don''t find anything relating to Sir Aaron, the tree itself is worth studying in its own right. So, what do you say? Are you interested?" Cynthia says with a playful grin


    "I only have one question for you."


    "Oh, and what might that be?"


    "When are we leaving."


    <hr>?


    As it turns out, this expedition wouldn''t be a solo act like I had initially imagined. A number of volunteers are also being recruited to support the logistics and analytical teams, and another high-level trainer from Hoenn will apparently be brought on the mission to help handle the Regi threat.


    Everyone participating would have to be read in about my situation, but honestly, I didn''t care. The facts of my sapience felt like an open secret half the time anyway, and most of the people I directly interacted with didn''t seem to care what I was.


    What worried me more was the league''s intentions to capture the Regis instead of destroying them.


    Upon uncovering this crucial aspect of our mission, I delved into the intricate history of captured legendary Pok¨¦mon to gain a deep understanding of the challenges that lay ahead. It was revealed that during the last war, Orre emerged as one of the pioneering regions to successfully capture their native legendaries. However, this triumph was shadowed by their insatiable greed for power, serving as a stark reminder of the perilous consequences of underestimating the might of these legendary creatures.


    Orre, in their hubris, made the mistake of trying to capture Ho-oh using their enslaved Suicune, Entei, and Raikou. They learned the difference between a legendary and a <u>L</u>egendary the hard way.


    There are no records of the event itself, given that none who were present survived, but It is believed that Ho-oh became so enraged at the attempted capture that it immolated itself.


    Its body exploding into primordial flame and unleashing a hellish wave of sacred fire that swallowed two-thirds of the region in a handful of seconds, leaving behind a lifeless, fire-blasted desert where once a thriving landscape had existed.


    I am genuinely thankful I don''t have to deal with that level of bullshit. The Regis are a minor legendary trio if such a classification could apply to such powerful beings. Let trainers like Cynthia fight those kinds of monsters, I''m just fine being a scout and rescue ranger, thank you very much.


    For the upcoming expedition, my job would just be exploring the inner areas of the tree and taking as many data scans as I could of the geology and wildlife. All I needed now was a device that wouldn''t be immediately eaten by the Tree of Beginnings immune system.


    And on that note-


    "You are giving me a Rotom?" I ask Ontaro bewildered as I hold the placid ghost/electric lightbulb in my hand


    "It wasn''t really up to me but yes. Also, it''s not just any Rotom. This is the original specimen; you might recognize it from its taste." Ontaro says bitingly. Ya, he still wasn''t happy about my first interactions with the Rotom, was he?


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    "After your encounter, this one developed a liking for you, for some reason." Ontaro grumbles while working on a survey drone vessel for my new ghost companion.


    "I''m not sure I entirely agree with this decision, but I suppose it does double as field rations in emergencies." I jokingly reply as the little ghostly lightbulb flies happy little circles around my hand.


    "Please don''t joke about that. I am not afraid to report you for threatening an endangered species." Ontaro deadpans


    "How does that even work when we are both endangered species," I grumble half-heartedly under my breath


    "Look, there isn''t much to be done about the decision. A Rotom drone is the only way to guarantee the tree of beginning doesn''t eat or destroy the recording equipment." Ontaro sighs


    "Hey, I''m not complaining. I''m just stating the obvious concerns anyone would have with giving a Dark-type Pok¨¦mon a ghost type, is all." I retort while protectively holding the ghost to my chest as if afraid Ontaro would separate us.


    The bond was formed; there was no going back; it was mine now, part of the pack.


    "Look, I volunteered to be one of the support personnel going on this expedition just in case any troubleshooting is needed; I may be stuck at base camp, but don''t think you can try anything while you are in the exclusion zone Echo. I will find a way to get back at you if any harm comes to that Rotom, so you''d better take good care of it." Ontaro says while finishing the last touches to the drone body and offering me Rotom''s Pokeball.


    "No worries, I''ll protect it to the best of my ability," I promise while Rotom flashes over to the completed drone and begins the process of rapidly possessing the device.


    After returning Rotom to its ball, Ontaro grabs a couple of pre-prepared travel bags before we both head for the nearby elevators.


    I didn''t need any travel bags since the supplies I would use on the expedition would be provided to me once base camp was set up. Picking up Rotom was the last thing needed before the team assembled.


    My illusion of humanity slips over my form like a raincoat just as the elevator doors close in front of us. Some of the people Cynthia recruited from Unova weren''t part of site 6, so it would be fun to see if I could surprise the newbies who had only recently learned about my existence.


    "It''s going to be a long flight to Rota, and we have to stop in Hoenn to pick up the remaining personnel. Are you sure you wouldn''t prefer to just PC transfer over to Rota once the rest of us get set up?" Ontaro asks me while we ride the elevator up to ground level.


    "I''ll probably do that for future missions the league sends me on, but in this case, I''d rather be on the plane with the rest of the team rather than wait around here or be stuck in stasis for the next 20 hours. Besides, it''ll be fun meeting new people who are fresh to the idea of a talking Pok¨¦mon." I say as we finish the elevator ride and start heading out of Site 6''s main security station.


    After a short walk across a shortly-trimmed grass field, we reach a long stretch of blacktop that designates the landing area for all types of flying transportation. Up in the sky, a trainer riding a breviary patrols the airspace, ensuring no wild Pok¨¦mon approach too close to the landing zone.


    Tucked away to the side, a vast, imposing grey metal hangar stood proudly, sheltering several aircraft designated for league use. Site 6, nestled in the remote expanses within Unova''s borders, relied on cargo planes to transport the bulk of its supplies.


    Stepping inside the hangar, I found the rest of the Unova team engaged in animated conversations. At the center, Cynthia was deeply engrossed in discussions with the pilots, while other members stood idly by. Meanwhile, a Machamp expertly loaded everyone''s luggage and equipment into the cargo hold, skillfully directed by one of the trainers.


    I offered to take Ontario''s heavy duffle bag, and he accepted with a grateful nod. As I walked over, I carefully placed the bag into the growing pile of luggage. Lazily, I stood next to the Machamp''s trainer, observing the only other Pok¨¦mon in the area happily performing its manual labor. After a few moments, the trainer checked his watch.


    "It''s almost departure time. I wonder when the staff here are going to escort that special Pok¨¦mon out for transport." The trainer says casually while looking around the area


    "Oh, he''s already been brought out. I imagine he''s waiting for the cargo to be loaded like the rest of us." I say jokingly, savoring the full-body flinch from the tall, muscular trainer as he hears my voice


    Letting a predatory grin pass over my features, I offer my hand to him for a ''hand'' shake just to see how he''d react.


    "The Name''s Echo. Nice to meet you." I declared


    A spark of uncertainty flickers in the trainer''s eyes before his resolve kicks out all hesitation.


    The handshake felt like a vice clamping down on my hand, each finger exerting an intense, unwavering pressure. It was as if my hand was being twisted by a hydraulic press, the force overwhelming. I pushed back with equal intensity, but with my focus diverted the illusionary disguise around me broke apart, causing it to flicker and vanish shortly thereafter.


    The sudden disappearance of my illusion caught the attention of everyone else nearby, but my focus remained locked on the fighting specialist. Our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, each challenging the other with unyielding determination.


    "It''s good to meet you, Echo. My name is John. I''ll mostly be on logistical support, so we might not interact all that often. Still, I hope we can work well together." John says with a firm nod


    Finally, the handshake ends, and I step back a pace.


    "Holy hell, man, I hope you don''t shake everyone''s hands like that! You''d be breaking wrists left and right." I exclaim, shaking my hand out, mostly for theatrical effect.


    The rest of the team trails beside Cynthia as she approaches, forming a loose semi-circle around John and me.


    "I''d appreciate it if you didn''t break this expedition''s most critical team member, thanks." Cynthia says dryly, "Alright, everyone, get your gawking out of your system now. You''ll have the whole plane ride to ask Echo whatever questions you want; for now, let''s get loaded up and get this show on the road. Chop Chop!" Cynthia declares with a clap of her hands


    With nothing else to occupy my time, I ascended the short flight of stairs into the plane''s cabin and staked out a comfortable window seat in the emergency exit row. Opting for this location meant the team would have an equal chance to converse with me should they choose to. Furthermore, I seized the opportunity to make the most of the additional leg space provided by utilizing my early boarding privilege.


    After a brief lapse, passengers completed their checks and began to file into their seats. Among the first to join me were a pair of tech specialists, appearing as if they had hastily completed their tasks just to engage with me before anyone else could. The pair introduced themselves as Tiffany and Travis, a married couple in their late twenties, and they were not shy about getting into my personal space.


    Travis seated himself right next to me and had his sleek-looking Pokedex pointed right in my face before he even sat down. Tiffany, on the other hand, took the seat directly behind mine and started talking about how cool my luscious red mane was.


    I felt a little boxed in by the pair as they bombarded me with questions that were said too quickly to give me enough time to answer half the question.


    I was eventually saved when John entered and outright laughed at my cowering away from the overly enthusiastic couple.


    "Let him breathe, you two. Look, you''re traumatizing the poor fella." John chuckles as he takes the seat one row in front of me and leans over the back of his chair to rest his arms on it while facing the rest of us.


    "I have to say you are not what I expected," John says as the couple finally calms down a bit.


    "Ya, I get that a lot. What did the league even tell you about me anyway? Do I have a file they just distribute to anyone who needs to know I exist or something?" I asked the group


    "Yup. In fact, I have a copy of it on my dex if you want to see it," Travis says, flipping his Pokedex around to show what is essentially a bare-bones description¡ªit has all the basics: Human memories implanted into wild Pok¨¦mon, saved lab personnel at personal risk, etcetera. I guess it''s pretty simple when you leave out literally all the context and details like that.


    It was so lacking in actual details, in fact, that I was surprised they didn''t just condense it to, ''Yup, we have a sapient Pok¨¦mon employed at site 6, don''t tell anyone, please. Thank you.''


    "Okay, wow. At this point, I''m going to be suprised if the ''secret'' of my existence doesn''t leak to the world by the end of the year." I say nonchalantly


    "Ya, it was actually kinda hard to tell whether this was some elaborate prank or not. Maybe that''s what the league is going for, though. Keep the details to a minimum so that if the document did leak, people would just assume it was fake." Travis chimes in


    "Then what''s the point of having the file if you''re going to omit all the details? You know what, forget I asked. We''d be here all day if we tried to untangle the league''s motives. Anyway, I''m sure you all have a million questions for me, let''s hear them." I say, waving my hands in the air to signal the inevitable barrage of questions.


    I am indeed bombarded with what feels like a hundred questions. All ranging from ''What are your favorite foods?'' to ''What did evolution feel like?''. All questions I''d already heard and answered a million times from my time as a lab specimen.


    It wasn''t until everyone was on board and the plane had taken off that I was asked a question I hadn''t heard before.


    "Do you have any secrets you haven''t told the research staff about, like maybe any escape attempts that didn''t pan out or anything like that?" John asks in a conspiratorial tone


    Sometime during the question session, Cynthia must have boarded because, across the aisle seat, I see her lean forward and quirk an eyebrow at me as I visibly hesitate to answer the question.


    "Okay, look. I don''t have any big secrets I''m hiding or anything like that. I''m not some abused lab specimen like you''d see in the movies. The things I haven''t told the researchers about are mostly benign." I say sheepishly


    "Do you have any specific examples you want to share?" Cynthia calls out almost too casually from her seat.


    "Well, just as an example¡­ I may or may not have given one of the safety inspectors some¡­materials that will help him Lure out and capture his own Zoroark." I say carefully before mumbling to myself, "I may or may not have forgotten to tell the executive staff about that one¡­I hope that doesn''t come back to bite us." I finish sheepishly


    Cynthia stares at me for a moment before shrugging and taking out an archeology book from her carry-on bag.


    As the hours passed, I found myself engaged in casual conversations with the team. Each member exuded exceptional qualifications, leaving no doubt as to why the league selected them for this mission.


    Hell, even John had a master''s in business logistics and urban architecture, and he was literally this expedition''s hired muscle.


    As daylight gradually faded, the night sky unveiled a breathtaking display of stars, captivating my gaze through the window.


    As we continue on the journey towards Hoenn''s coast, we have approximately 8 more hours to go before reaching our destination. Most of the team has opted to recline their seats and catch some rest during the journey.


    I attempt to do the same, but the limited recline of the seats makes it difficult to get comfortable. Additionally, the mesmerizing view of the night sky stirs my instincts. In the wild, nighttime was the prime time for activity, and this contrast left me feeling slightly disconcerted.


    After struggling for about 20 minutes to find a comfortable position to sleep in my seat, I reluctantly abandon the idea of getting any rest the normal way. As I rise from my seat, I notice a few passengers still awake, casting curious glances my way.


    Disregarding their attention, I retrieve a small neck pillow from the overhead bin and carefully place it on my seat. I reach for the Pokeball hanging from a necklace hidden within the soft fur around my neck and unclasp it. Pressing the recall button, I feel a sudden surge of energy as I collapse into it.


    I didn''t even have to remove my uniform or anything beforehand since my clothes and basic equipment were all specially made from Pok¨¦mon materials, such as mareep wool. This meant it all could be beamed in with me so long as I kept the total additional mass to a minimum.


    A few people found my actions interesting enough to lean over their seats or walk over to my aisle to peek at what I''d done. In my seat, the neck pillow I''d grabbed earlier holds my Pokeball, conveniently preventing it from rolling around.


    From within the Pokeball, I can tell that the rest of the team is bemoaning how unfair it was that I could escape the uncomfortable plane seats like this. I ''smile'' internally before relaxing completely into the blank resting state that the sensory deprivation so easily allowed.


    Sometime later I''m woken when someone starts poking my Pokeball repeatedly with their index finger.


    Without bothering to check who had woken me, I effortlessly break free from the containment device and extend my body, releasing a massive, jaw-achingly wide yawn. I may have accidentally given the person who woke me a close-up eyeful of my teeth, but that''s just one of the hazards you face when waking up a dark type from a deep sleep.


    Drowsily, I turn to look at the person who roused me from my slumber, only to realize that he wasn''t one of the crew members from Unova. Glancing back out of the window, I observe that the plane is currently grounded and watch as new personnel start boarding.


    It dawned on me that we must have been at our Hoenn stop, awaiting the rest of our crew. Shifting my attention back to the unfamiliar crew member, I awkwardly scratch the back of my head, noting that the man who had woken me up was standing perfectly still as if fearing that any movement on his part would provoke an aggressive response from me.


    I might have scared him, or something after I''d inadvertently flashed him my teeth.


    "Heya, how''s it going? I assume you''re part of the expedition, right? If you''ve read the briefing already, I''m the ''special asset'' it refers to. You can call me Echo. What''s your name?" I say, casually flopping back down into my seat after clipping my Pokeball back onto my necklace.


    "Holy fucking shit," the man says, evidently in disbelief at the talking Pok¨¦mon in front of him.


    "Your parents must have hated you if they gave you a name like that," I say with a knowing grin as I see some of the other people watching the byplay smile in amusement.


    "What? No, I ¨C I mean, my name is Saxxon. It''s a, pleasure to make your acquaintance. I seriously can''t believe my damn eyes right now!" Saxxon trails off in borderline hysterical excitement


    Leaning away from Saxxon, I ''whisper'' to John, who was still seated in the row in front of mine.


    "Ya know, I''ve been expecting this kind of reaction from people for a while now, but this is actually the first time someone''s lost it when talking to me. I''m not sure how I''m supposed to be handling this."


    All John does in response is grin and shrug helplessly at the situation.


    Cynthia came to the rescue by striding over to our group and immediately capturing everyone''s attention. Following closely behind her was another member of the Hoenn contingent, an older man clad in a simple safari green uniform. His stern countenance and powerful presence evoked memories of battling against Cynthia, yet there was something distinctly different about him.


    It was an unsettling sensation, but maybe all high-level trainers felt like this for some reason.


    "Good afternoon, all! I''m glad that everyone seems to be getting along! My name is Brandon, and I will be the official team lead for this expedition," the older man proclaims to us in an exuberant timbre.


    "Huh, I thought Cynthia was going to be the team lead?" I ask reflexively.


    Brandon''s eyes bear down on me like spotlights.


    "Ah, you must be Echo. Your assumption is not unwarranted. However, Cynthia will not be able to participate for the full duration of this expedition. Once our esteemed champion here helps us deal with the Regi golems, she will depart for Sinnoh. I will remain with the rest of the team to support you and act as the commanding league representative at base camp for however long is needed." The man states with finality


    "Oh, that''s good to hear, I guess. I look forward to working with you sir." I say, trying not to let my disappointment show in my voice. Whoever this was must be highly capable if the league trusted him with this responsibility.


    I really shouldn''t be surprised that Cynthia had to leave, though. She''d already taken a lot of time outside of her home region, and the region champions were supposedly very busy individuals. It just would have been nice knowing that her firepower was in reserve if needed. After all, who knows what other kinds of Pok¨¦mon lived in the Tree of Beginning when it already housed three legendary golems?


    After some back-and-forth answering questions and spending some time getting to know the new crew members, we were back in the air, heading for Rota.


    As we embarked on the next leg of our journey, the flight from Hoenn to Rota seemed to pass by in a blur, lasting only about an hour and a half before our plane touched down at a small airfield not too far from the renowned Cameron Palace.


    Disguised in my illusion of humanity, I stepped off the plane alongside the rest of the crew, eager to catch my first glimpse of the legendary Tree of Beginning. From a distance, it appeared to be just another mountain on the horizon, blending in with the others.


    Yet, as I gazed more intently, I began to discern the subtle shift from the rugged exterior to the lush green canopy of the colossal tree-like entity rising from the earth.


    My attention was completely absorbed by the mesmerizing sight of the Tree, so much so that I completely missed the arrival of the transport vehicles. We were planning to utilize the Hummers and other cargo haulers to transport both personnel and delicate scientific equipment to a dry riverbed closer to the tree.


    Setting up the base camp just outside the exclusion zone was essential, as it ensured minimal signal loss for the crucial equipment I would be taking with me.


    To my surprise, a young woman elegantly dressed in expensive attire emerged from one of the Hummers. She was escorted to Cynthia and Brandon by a pair of imposing bodyguards dressed in black. It was evident that this new arrival was likely a member of Rotas'' royal family, and presumably privy to the details of my involvement, given that their approval was required for this expedition to proceed in the first place.


    A few seconds of talking later, Cynthia visibly sighs before calling out my name.


    "Echo! Where are you? We need you over here for a moment." Cynthia calls out without bothering to actually look around for me.


    In less than two seconds, I sprinted over to her and came to an abrupt stop right beside her. As I halted, a powerful gust of wind ruffled her hair, caused by the displaced air from my rapid dash.


    "You called for me, mam?" I say channeling my best anime protagonist while enjoying the flinch from the darkly dressed bodyguards.


    "Yes, well, Princess Ilene, this is Ranger Echo. Echo, this is Princess Ilene. She will apparently be accompanying us on this expedition." Cynthia says dryly


    "Oh? That a bit unusual. No offense to you, princess, but why would a civilian like yourself want to come with us?" I inquire with a tilt of my head


    I can tell that the deep tone of my voice visibly unsettles her, and it takes an awkward few extra seconds for her to start speaking.


    "I know it isn''t ideal to spring this on you all at the last second, but I can''t let an opportunity like this pass me by. I won''t be useless, though; I have a master''s in crystalline organics from Kanto University and several patents for 3D imaging that I developed by studying the crystal ''time flowers'' endemic to the Tree of Beginning. My family has watched over the area for generations, and I''ve spent my whole life dreaming about the secrets the Tree of Beginning holds within it, so I want to be one of the few who get to see these discoveries first." She says quickly as if trying to convince me of her usefulness


    I give Cynthia and Brandon a considering look before shrugging. Its not like it was my call to let her go with the expedition or not. Base camp should be relatively safe, so why call me over here to meet the princess?


    "Ookay¡­so is there something you all needed from me because it looks like the team could use some help getting the equipment loaded up." I say, pointing a ''thumb'' behind me toward the other cargo vehicles.


    The princess blushes as if realizing that she''d forgotten the whole reason I was called over.


    "Ah, well, I have something I wanted to ask you to take with you. It is a family heirloom of sorts, a time flower from Sir Aaron''s era." The princess says before opening the back seat of the Hummer that she''d arrived in and pulling out a leather suitcase from within.


    Cautiously taking the suitcase, I flip the latches up with a claw and lift the lid to see a beautiful dark blue crystal flower.


    "This time flower contains a recording of Sir Aaron''s funeral service as conducted by my ancestors some 300 hundred years ago. It would mean a lot to the nation of Rota if you could bring this to Aaron''s final resting place should you happen upon it in your explorations or bring it to the topmost point of the tree if you cannot find any remains." She says solemnly


    "And to be clear, Echo, this task is completely voluntary. You don''t have to take the flower with you if you do not wish to haul it around." Brandon states


    I look at the priceless piece of history in my arms and carefully close and re-latch the lid. Far be it from me to refuse a quest from a literal princess.


    "It would be my genuine honor to fulfill this request for you, Princess Ilene." I say, giving my best royal butler bow to her


    "All right, let''s get going, then! Base camp won''t build itself!" Brandon says with a smile and a hard pat to my shoulder that breaks my illusion and nearly causes me to fumble the priceless artifact in my hands.


    Princess Ilene and I both give him matching glares

 Chapter 7: In The Beginning

    "Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less." - Marie Curie


    <hr>


    As we headed towards the base camp location, I decided to run alongside the vehicles, making a path through the dense forest that borders the dry riverbed used by the team as a makeshift road.


    "Requesting Permission to scout ahead of the convoy, Over!" I howl out over the wind while pressing a button on my newly acquired radio collar


    "Permission granted, logging you as off the leash Echo, have fun and try not to go too far. We''ll meet you at the rendezvous point in a few. Over and out." Brandon replies back to me over the radio


    "Copy that!" I cheer back.


    For the first time in a long time, I really feel free. I can finally run in any direction I want!


    Leaving the ''road'' behind, I duck under a low-hanging branch and break away from the rest of the convoy, heading deeper into the forested area. A wide smile spreads across my face as the diverse scents of native animals and Pok¨¦mon greet my nose.


    Traversing the loamy landscape, I pause at regular intervals, savoring the scents and sights of the wilderness. At each stop, I eagerly lean down to sniff at marked spots on the ground or cautiously peer into the nooks and crannies of trees, curious to discover the hidden caches of berries that the local wildlife has carefully stowed away within.


    During my exploration, instinct guides me, leading me in seemingly random directions as I embrace the spontaneity of the moment. However, this carefree wandering abruptly comes to a halt upon catching a whiff of a potentially dangerous presence, jolting me into a heightened state of vigilance.


    "Echo here; I just caught the scent of a Scyther in the area. I''m going to check if it''s an individual or a swarm, over." I whisper into my radio.


    "Confirmed Echo. We just made it to the rendezvous point and are unloading supplies now. Handle the situation as you see fit and then head back to us." Brandon replies back


    Creeping silently through the underbrush toward the source of the all-too-familiar smell of the bug/flying-type monster. I don''t know how to feel about the situation, considering that half of my family had been killed by Scyther shortly before I encountered Dustin on that fateful day.


    At the same time, a ranger''s duty is to preserve and defend life, and as much as I hated the species for what they had done to me personally, they still served as a keystone species in many areas. Without them, any number of prey species would skyrocket and overwhelm the local ecology.


    That being said, the native Scyther in this region should have migrated further south by this time of year.


    I spotted the massive emerald insect instantly as it nestled against the rough bark of a tree, its pearlescent wings gently fluttering with the breeze. It delicately lapped at an oozing hole in the tree, a rare sight to see from a mostly carnivorous species.


    Cautiously circling the bug, I begin to discern the reasons behind its peculiar behavior.


    The creature''s right side is mangled, and its chitinous exoskeleton cracked from the right arm down to the midpoint of its thorax. The once majestic right wings crumpled and tattered, yet despite its evident injury, the creature still exhibits a liveliness that speaks of its will to live.


    The creature''s right arm and scythe seems to be of little use, indicating its inability to hunt properly. The sight of the creature resorting to drinking tree sap suggested a desperate search for sustenance.


    Based on the position and severity of the crushing damage, I would guess that this unlucky fellow had a run-in with a Pinsir.


    It would be within my purview to mercy-kill the creature since it likely wouldn''t survive the month like this. Tree sap would only lengthen the time it took for it to starve to death, and its right side wouldn''t heal properly without human intervention.


    A Pidgey flies out of the canopy overhead, startling the Scyther and causing it to cautiously scan its surroundings for potential threats. Oddly I find myself empathizing with the giant mantis-like monster.


    That all too familiar feeling of encroaching starvation and the wariness of always having to watch your back for opportunistic predators.


    With a sigh of resignation, I reach for my capture styler and launch it from my concealed position. The device begins circling the tree where the Scyther clung. Instead of fleeing like I expected, the injured bug instead defiantly stands its ground, hissing at the airborne object.


    Once the capture device forms a temporary sympathetic bond with me, I calmly walk out of the underbrush and present it with a pokeblock from my personal snack stash.


    Cautiously, the Scyther loosens its grip on the tree and approaches my offering, its head bowed low to the ground in submission, the sympathetic bond informing it that I meant no harm.


    It quickly takes the food from my claw, and after quickly swallowing the food block whole, it buzzes its one good wing happily. It sniffs at my pockets for more, but I gently push its head away.


    The giant mantis Pok¨¦mon whines pitiably at my refusal to give it more food.


    "Yeah, I know, bud. It''s tough out here, isn''t it? Well, come on then. We''ll go get you fixed up at base camp." I say to it exasperatedly


    The bug, not understanding a word of what I said, still happily followed behind me as I started walking back the way I came.


    After careful consideration, I decided against keeping the bug monster on my team. Although Scyther and its evolved form, Scizor, are excellent battlers, it wouldn''t be a good fit for me in the long run. While I saved its life, having it around brought up too many bad memories.


    Someone from the league would likely be interested in it regardless. With a quick flick of my wrist, the capture styler gracefully flew back to me from its standby hovering position.


    After a moment of checking to ensure the Scyther would make it to camp with its injuries, I opened the map app on my capture styler and double-checked the route to base camp.


    I radioed the team to let them know that I had "captured" an injured Scyther and would be bringing it along for treatment. After receiving confirmation from base camp, we jogged through the forest for a short while until we reached the dry lake bed on which the camp was being erected.


    The campsite is a flurry of activity reminiscent of an agitated beehive. Numerous large tents have been meticulously set up, their entrances flapping gently in the breeze.


    The persistent hum of scattered electrical generators fills the air, providing power to an array of equipment, from bright floodlights to charging stations for electronic devices. In the midst of this bustling scene, people move purposefully, carrying gear and preparing for the mission that lies ahead.


    I carefully monitor Scyther''s behavior, ensuring it displays no signs of agitation or aggression before approaching the team with it.


    "All right, Echo''s back with the wild Scyther. John, you said you''d take it, right? Get it in a ball ASAP, and then let''s have medical check it for anything critical. After that, let''s get the rest of the tents situated and get the floodlights positioned while we still have a bit of sunlight." Brandon says commandingly to the whole team after they had gathered to see the crippled Scyther cautiously following behind me.


    John nods, pulls out a netball from one of his packs, and hands it to me. I understand the action immediately. It is probably best not to throw things at the Scyther since it''s still wild and could perceive the action as a threat. So, I take John''s Pokeball and gently touch it to Scyther''s carapace.


    A few seconds later, the Scyther is caught and automatically registered to John. Giving the ball back, John walks off to one of the already assembled tents and heads inside; I note that the tent has a medical symbol on it and is likely one of the first places to have been assembled.


    During the remaining hours of daylight, I focus on helping to set up the camp, which includes lifting heavy equipment and various items to ensure everything is properly in place. After that, I spend the late evening patrolling the camp''s outer perimeter.


    During the patrol, I may have taken it upon myself to strategically ''mark'' a few key spots to discourage wild Pok¨¦mon from approaching the area. This is totally not because of my aversion to the smell of the latrines that the team had set up for themselves; I was just being tactical with my bathroom breaks while on the job is all.


    As night falls, I return to the camp to find my bed and am directed to a rather large tent next door to Cynthia''s. Inside is a nice little setup with a cot, a foldable side table, and all my miscellaneous supplies that I''ll be using for the expedition. As I debate whether to sleep in my Pokeball, someone ''knocks'' on one of the tent poles.


    "Come in." I call out while taking off my radio collar and Pokeball necklace, preparing to set them on the side table


    Turning around, I catch sight of Princess Illene and Cynthia strolling into my tent. With a deliberate motion, they zip the entrance closed behind them.


    Raising an eyebrow in response to this unexpected action, I find myself unable to contain a theatrical reaction to their sudden invasion of my personal space.


    "Look, ladies, I''m flattered, but I''m not really into Humans like that," I say jokingly to the pair.


    The princess looks confused for half a second before realizing my meaning and blushing at the implication.


    To be fair, Cynthia''s long hair was slightly attractive to my instinctive preferences, in that it could probably house a kit or two. However, that wasn''t nearly enough to bypass all the other factors that made humans just on the north side of gross in that respect.


    My instincts thought of all that exposed skin as unhealthy, almost like they were suffering hair loss from mange or something.


    "Duly noted," Cynthia replies back dryly. "However, that is not why we are here. Princess Illene wanted to show us how to utilize all the functions of a time flower. I''m told it''s something of a family secret as to how to fully utilize them with aura, hence the zipped door." Cynthia explains


    "Wait, why would I need to know how to use time flowers other than the simple activation?" I ask in confusion


    "Well if Sir Arron or any explorers that came before him left any flowers behind, we would prefer you be able to activate them properly so that what''s inside isn''t accidentally lost," Cynthia explains.


    "Shouldn''t I just bring any time flowers I find back to Cameron Palace to be viewed there?" I ask in reply


    Illene looks sheepishly at Cynthia before answering my question.


    "That is what I was thinking before Cythina brought up the fact that Time flowers are very fragile things. Even slight cracks can completely distort the recordings within. It would be a travesty if Sir Arron recorded any last words only for it to be lost to an unfortunate accident before it can be brought to us." Illene says before continuing with an exasperated sigh


    "Furthermore, the knowledge of how to use them is not particularly valuable to my family anymore; it is kept more out of tradition than necessity. Especially now that anyone with a phone can record video more effectively than any time flower can. It made sense to keep this a secret hundreds of years ago, but not now." Illene finishes


    "Ah, right. I can imagine that Time flowers would have been an extremely valuable commodity in the time before printing presses or conventional photography were invented." I say, thinking about just how unique the flowers really were in that context.


    Even in the current age, 3D recording and projecting technologies are in their infancy and not generally seen in the public sphere yet.


    "Yes, well, I hope you understand that I''m still reluctant about this. Human Aura techniques are a controversial subject at best, and I want you both to promise me not to teach anyone else what I''m about to show you, okay?" Illene asks us both


    Cynthia and I nod in silent agreement before Illene walks over to my supply pile, pulls out the suitcase holding the time flower she''d given me earlier that day, and gently places it on the floor between us.


    Sitting down cross-legged, I watch in fascination as Illene carefully opens the suitcase, revealing the beautiful crystal object to us.


    "You are both trainers, so you should be familiar with how an aura bond feels when you establish them. I want you both to place your hands over mine, close your eyes, and try to feel what I''m doing with my aura. Then, once you think you have it, I''ll have you each try different functions of the time flower and we can go from there."


    Almost Immediately, I sensed and copied her manipulation of aura, a skill I probably owed to my Lucario parentage. It only took me a few more tries before the copied techniques were fully memorized without any mimicry needed. After observing Cynthia''s attempts to activate the flower for a few minutes, I felt compelled to pose a question.


    "So I understand why you''re teaching me this stuff, but why does Cynthia need to know how to do this?" I ask both of the women


    "Because the lost civilizations that existed before us used to trade time flowers with other regions. The ancient rulers of the past were often powerful trainers and could thus use time flowers with a little trial and error. Time flowers have been found all across the world, usually in hidden caches." Cynthia says


    Cynthia huffs at her lack of immediate success with the flower and looks over as she continues explaining.


    "I have found a few broken time flowers in old tombs over the years. It would be invaluable to know how to properly use them should I come across an intact one. More often than not, there are traps that break the crystals to preserve the secrets within. This is one of the reasons why most of the knowledge from various ''forgotten'' civilizations has been lost to us." Cynthia sighs


    "I keep forgetting that you are an archeologist on top of everything else you do. How the hell do you find the time to do it all?" I ask


    Cynthia shrugs and falls onto her back, seemingly taking a small break.


    A companionable silence falls over us for a time before I decide to break the silence with a question to Illene.


    "So, you must be very familiar with Sir Aarons''s legend, right? You probably have seen the actual historical records from that time and everything." Illene gives me a nod in confirmation. "Do you think the tales of Sir Aarons Lucario being able to speak have any merit to them?"


    Illene takes a moment to carefully consider the question, and I can''t help but think she is trying to answer without disappointing me.


    "Based on the limited historical accounts of that time, the answer is technically yes," she begins. "However, I think what you are really asking is if his Lucario was intelligent enough to have a conversation with, and the answer to that is probably no."


    Before I can ask for clarification on her answer, she continues.


    "The thing about it is that Sir Aaron had an impossibly strong connection with his Lucario. Our records seem to imply that he could use his Lucario as a sort of aura transceiver, and with this, he could ''speak'' through his Lucario somehow. My family has tried to replicate the feat many many times, but no one has ever come close to the kind of bond that Aaron and Lucario must have had to pull that kind of trick off." Illene says solemnly


    Cynthia reluctantly chimes in a moment later.


    "It''s a dangerous thing, trying to push the boundaries of the Human-Pok¨¦mon bond. Mega-evolution, Z-moves, gigantimaxing, and more are all methods that the major regions individually developed in order to push the bond beyond normal limits safely."


    Cynthia sighs as if lost in memory before continuing.


    "People tend to forget that it took generations of development to make these methods as safe and effective as they are today. Trainers today just don''t realize how dangerous pushing the bond without safeguards can be." Cynthia shares in a low tone.


    For some reason, her explanation catches onto a memory from the first day I gained Dustin''s memories.


    "Forgive me if this is one of those league secrets, but I once heard Professor Juniper use the term ''psychic bleed'' when I was giving myself over to the Westpoint Unovan ranger station. She said something along the lines that I wasn''t another Gardevoir incident." I say leadingly


    All these pieces together were starting to form a picture in my head.


    The term psychic bleed along with the knowledge that, given the right circumstances, it might be possible to communicate through a Pok¨¦mon-trainer bond¡­and well, the Gardevoir line are some of the most potent empaths in existence.


    But is it truly possible to stretch the bond so far that you can speak through your Pok¨¦mon? I''d never even heard of something like that before.


    With another sigh, Cynthia replies to my unasked question.


    "During the last world war, there were¡­efforts to bridge the divide between humans and their Pok¨¦mon more effectively. Those scientists quickly learned that when the human-Pok¨¦mon bond is pushed to the breaking point, the human psyche can start to¡­bleed out, for lack of a better term." Cynthia says quietly to us


    "Their aura quite literally hemorrhages out of them like a popped water balloon. And once this aura bleed starts, there is no real way to stop it. Inevitably, the result is either death or severe brain damage for both the human and Pok¨¦mon involved; thus, the term psychic bleed was coined. Thankfully, that kind of occurrence is incredibly difficult to perform even if you know what you''re doing."


    With a sigh, Cynthia finishes her explanation, leans back up on her arms, looking a bit sadder than a moment before and continues.


    "As for Juniper''s reference to a Gardevoir incident, well, let''s just say that during the war, a veteran trainer managed to push their bond to the point of no return. She performed mega evolution without a keystone and, for a short time, acted through her Gardevoir as if it were her own body, telepathically communicating with her squad and everything. They held ground against the opposing forces long enough that it allowed the rest of her squad to flee the battleground, but in the process, it cost them everything."


    Looking over to Illene, I see that she is unsurprised by this information. Given that Cynthia was revealing this sensitive information to us both, I can''t help but speculate that Illene''s family might have managed something very similar in the past while attempting to recreate Sir Aarons''s apparent abilities.


    Someone from camp interrupts the solemn silence that had followed the story. It''s a person from camp looking for Cynthia''s help, and she has to excuse herself for a few minutes to take care of some last-minute logistics for the research teams.


    "I know I shouldn''t be disappointed, but I was kind of hoping that there were instances of other Pok¨¦mon out there being as intelligent as humans. Kinda sad knowing I''m the only one," I grumble halfheartedly


    "It''s honestly shocking how easy it is to forget you really are a Pok¨¦mon Echo. You act and talk so much like a human that even with no illusions, I still have to remind myself that you aren''t." Illene responds


    I am well aware of what she means, but it would be best if she did not let the fa?ade fool her. Plus I wanted to have a little fun.


    "Ah, mimicry is just something my species is very good at, princess." I drawl lowly to her. "We enjoy ''pretending'' to be one of the pack and sometimes spend days living alongside our prey until a perfect opportunity presents itself." I watch in dark delight as Illene''s pulse quickens as she suddenly realizes she''s alone in the tent with me.


    Leaning in a bit closer, speaking as if passing on a secret, I say, "It''s usually when the prey is alone that a Zoroark will strike for the kill." I rumble menacingly under my breath


    Our eyes meet, and I can see her subtly grabbing a Pokeball hidden in the seam of her shirt''s sleeve. I probably shouldn''t be taking as much delight in this as I am, but for some reason, it is disturbingly fun to put fear into humans'' hearts.


    I grin widely just as Cynthia rejoins us a moment later, and the building tension of the room pops like a soap bubble. Illene gives me the stink eye at my apparent amusement at her reaction to my act.


    After saying goodnight to the girls and watching them leave, I start getting ready for bed. Settling down to sleep, I idly contemplate going outside to find a spot to rest like I used to do in the wild. Maybe I could even find a nice spot under some tree roots or something.


    However, the effort it would take to dig out a fresh den, combined with my overwhelming tiredness, ultimately dissuades me from pursuing the idea.


    Laying in the cot, I close my eyes and let my fatigue overtake me. The sounds of the base camp gradually fade into the background as I drift off to sleep.


    A few hours later, I am roused from slumber by the sounds of the team''s early risers.


    Emerging from the cozy confines of the tent, I slowly awaken to the crisp morning air, which feels invigorating against my fur. I eagerly reach back into the tent for my clothes and gear, feeling a sense of excitement for the day to come.


    For anyone else in the camp, it might have been a faux pas to emerge from one''s tent technically naked and dress outside of your tent, but I couldn''t care in the slightest.


    The camp is alive with activity, team members bustling about as they prepare for the day''s tasks. I join in the preparations, excited for the real mission to finally begin.


    The entire camp soon fully comes alive with energy, resembling a bustling beehive. People are in constant motion, transporting the final pieces of large equipment and setting up computers with diagnostic readings, scrolling endlessly. Amidst the activity, Brandon and Cynthia discover me eagerly pestering Ontario about all the other equipment he had brought with him.


    "Echo, let''s get you looped into the newest battle plan, and then we can get this mission started," Cynthia calls out to me.


    I practically bounce over to them, eagerly anticipating what these two plan to do with the Regis to allow me access to the tree.


    "Echo, do you have everything you need? We won''t be able to provide any aid once you are inside the exclusion zone," Brandon says.


    Instead of immediately answering, I go through the mental checklist Dustin used to use before going on ranging excursions and almost slap myself for forgetting one last thing I needed to do.


    Releasing Kirlia from his Pokeball I give him the command "Set T-Point" while pointing at the ground.


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    Dustin had trained Kirlia to use this command to set a new teleport location, allowing them to quickly retreat back to whichever base they were working from at the time. Kirlia gladly followed the order.


    A surge of psychic energy pulses through the area, and when Kirlia''s eyes stop glowing, I know we are ready to proceed. Direct teleportation in or out is unlikely to work due to the tree being a living entity, but it''s always good to be prepared just in case.


    "Alright, I am ready to go."


    Over the next 10 minutes, Cynthia and Brandon discuss their plan of attack with me. The first part of the plan involves activating some kind of fancy seismic device near the edge of the exclusion zone.


    The device will serve dual purposes: attracting the Regis''s attention and providing rough geological data that the rest of the team can use.


    While Brandon and Cynthia work together to handle the Regi threat, I am to wait on the sidelines. If they manage to neutralize the Regis, I can pass by freely. However, if the Regis turns out to be too powerful, I will wait for Brandon and Cynthia to distract them long enough for me to slip by unnoticed.


    After agreeing with their proposed plan, the rest of the team assembles, wishing us good luck, and helping load up a small vehicle for Cynthia and Brandon to use for carrying the seismic device and transporting them to the designated ''battleground'' against the Legendary Pok¨¦mon trio.


    After making one final check of all my equipment and ensuring that the encased time flower is securely strapped onto my back, I start jogging beside Brandon as he begins driving the two-seater vehicle away from base camp.


    Cynthia, from the passenger-side seat, releases her Togekiss, who immediately glides high above us to act as overwatch. The short journey to the absolute edge of the exclusion zone takes only a few minutes, as it is just a few miles from base camp.


    Parking at the edge of a large flat expanse of dry, rocky terrain, Cynthia and Brandon direct me to unload the heavy piston-looking seismic device and have me set it on the far end of the soon-to-be battlefield.


    Cynthia releases her Garchomp, which dives deep into the solid earth as if it were water. Turning to Brandon, I watch expectantly as he pulls out a worn-looking Ultra Ball and releases a massive red and orange avian Pok¨¦mon from within.


    What appears shocks me into speechlessness. The creature''s radiant power crushes the air out of my lungs as its overwhelming energy expands into the surroundings, weighing down on everything as if the whole world had suddenly been submerged under a hundred feet of ocean.


    I had assumed that Brandon would be providing support for the encounter, but when the man had just casually released a Moltres, I had to rethink all of my assumptions. The creature could probably be classified as a weapon of mass destruction, even considering that it doesn''t look fully grown yet.


    Then another thought occurs to me as I look at the other two similarly worn Pokeballs on his belt.


    Is that the only legendary he has? We are going after a trio of legendaries right now to capture them, and Moltres was part of its own trio of Legendaries, wasn''t it? Just what kind of trainer is Brandon?!


    I glance at Cynthia and notice that she seems completely unfazed by the legendary Moltres. She must have already been aware that Brandon had it. Moltres''s seemingly calm attitude helps me to gather myself, barely preventing me from panicking as all my instincts scream at me to run far away from this living incarnation of fire.


    "¡­Okay, well. That significantly improves my estimate of our chances against the Regis." I can''t help but squeak aloud


    Neither of the Champion level trainers reacts to my words, seemingly content to allow me time to regain my composure. Right, we have a mission to perform, and I need to get my head back in the game.


    Starting the seismic device, a resounding thump reverberates through the clearing as a sizeable flat piston smacks into the ground before slowly rising again for another smack and another in a smooth continuous pattern.


    The team at the base camp sends me a message a few moments later. Opening my capture styler map, I can see a 3D model of the tree slowly gaining resolution with each loud thump of the seismic device.


    As predicted, the device causes enough disturbance for the Regi golems to come out to play. Two of them are easily detectable at a distance as they appear from an opening at the base of the tree. One is sky blue, while the other is a shining metallic grey with black accents.


    These two are the ICE and STEEL Regies, but where is the third?


    The two visible Regis start making their way toward us at a steady pace, either hovering above the ground or jumping forward with ever-increasing momentum. I keep looking around for the third one to appear, but apparently, it is already here.


    An eruption of rock fragments peppers the area as Garchomp emerges from the ground, its prey trapped in place by impossibly powerful teeth. The massive rock golem cartoonishly dangles from Garchomp''s mouth, boulder-like appendages flail at Cynthia''s starter, smashing rocky limbs onto the scaly hide with bone-crushing force, all to no avail.


    Garchomp refuses to release its grip and violently swings its head downward, repeatedly slamming the golem into the ground until it literally starts to crumble apart. After the relentless assault, only a rocky torso remains of the Regi, at which point the golem begins to take on a dangerously ominous white radiance.


    "Brace," Cynthia calmly calls out. A fraction of a second later Togekiss descends to the earth in front of her and Brandon with a decisive thud. In an instant, an inviolable barrier of shimmering green light emerges, enveloping the three protectively.


    An ear-splitting ''explosion'' erupts from the Regirock, and the entire area is engulfed in a dust cloud as rocky shrapnel peppers everything around us like a fragmentation grenade.


    With a dismissive wave of Togekiss''s wings, the dust clears away, revealing a pissed-off Garchomp still holding onto Regirock''s remains.


    "Come here and Drop it," Cynthia ordered the dragon, pointing over toward the ground next to Brandon.


    The apex predator stomps over with a disgruntled growl before dropping the Regirock''s surprisingly still-twitching torso at Brandon''s feet. Cynthia then coos and scratches Garchomp under its slightly bruised, scaly chin.


    I watch in disbelief as Brandon casually captures the Regi by unceremoniously dropping an ultra ball onto it, all the while Cynthia continues praising her starter.


    "Good girl! Who''s my precious little dragon nugget? Yes, you are!" Cynthia says as the monstrously powerful dragon starts wagging its tail as if it were some dopey mundane dog and not a terrifying beast that had just shrugged off a point-blank explosion from a legendary as if it were nothing.


    Trainers like this really play in a whole different league than the rest of us mortals. I think to myself as I watch the two trainers wait patiently for the other two Regis to reach us.


    What unfolds next is like a carefully orchestrated dance of violence. Brandon''s Moltres springs into action, shielding Cynthia''s Pok¨¦mon from an onslaught of icy beams unleashed by Regice with scorching blasts of its fiery breath.


    Meanwhile, Cynthia''s Garchomp uses ''Iron Tail'' to deflect a rocky onslaught conjured into existence by Registeel''s ''ancient power'' attack.


    For a scant few seconds, it appeared that the clash could last longer than the ''battle'' with Regirock. However, Brandon swiftly directs Moltres to summon a blistering "sunny day," while Cynthia seizes the chance to have her Togekiss use a powerboosted "heatwave" attack.


    The amalgamated heat becomes overpowering, resulting in the two remaining Regis starting to physically melt under the relentless onslaught. After that, it could hardly be considered a battle as the Regies are thoroughly and almost literally dismantled.


    After capturing the two thoroughly defeated Regis, I was left in a state of shock by the sheer absurdity of the recent battle I had witnessed.


    Brandon, despite having a legendary Pok¨¦mon on his side, had largely played a supportive role, while Cynthia took the lead and crushed the trio of golems into the ground like they were sandcastles on the beach.


    "Alright, Echo. The way should be clear for you now. Do try to make it back in one piece, ya?" Cynthia calls out to me as she affectionately pats each of her Pok¨¦mon''s heads.


    Gulping slightly, I reply with a hesitant "Y-Yes, mam. You can count on me." Then, I start jogging around the still cherry red hot battleground before returning to a straight line path toward the Tree of Beginning.


    As I make my way to the base of the tree, I release Rotom from its Pok¨¦ball and perform a few quick checks to ensure it is recording properly. Once that''s done, I look at the seismic map data and find one of the many holes on the tree''s exterior that should lead to an interesting hollow zone underneath the roots of the tree.


    Once underground, all radio signals are unsurprisingly cut off, and returning to the base via teleportation is similarly blocked due to the tree''s semi-organic nature interfering with the psychic connection to the base.


    Not unexpected but still a bit stressful considering what happened to Dustin the last time teleportation was blocked.


    The tunnels are dark at first, but soon beautiful, dimly glowing blue rock-like crystals pepper the walls. Despite Rotom''s impressive scanning capabilities, the rock remains unidentified. I take out a small metal chisel made of Aggron hide and carefully tap at the mineral''s surface until a small piece chips off.


    I carefully place the chip into one of the numerous glass sample tubes on my person and then continue walking down the tunnel.


    Without warning, the comforting blue glow is replaced by a foreboding red light. The crystals, previously tranquil, now emit a furious red hue. When I turn around, the rock I had collected the sample from begins to liquefy and transform into the shape of a Lileep, a prehistoric Pok¨¦mon.


    I find myself immobilized by indecision as the entire tunnel becomes engulfed by red, shape-shifting Pok¨¦mon-like entities. They lunge at me from every direction, and in a moment of panic, I unleash as many dark pulses as I can. However, the horde is too dense for me to evade their relentless advance.


    Before I know it, I''m submerged in the red goop, and then¡­nothing.


    It''s as if I''m enclosed in my Pokeball, the only difference being that I am enveloped on all sides by a pervasive warmth instead of emptiness. The feeling is disconcerting, yet strangely soothing, almost like being hugged by a Goodra that you aren''t sure is going to kill you afterward.


    Fortunately, the tree did not find me too appetizing. After about 20 seconds, I am ejected back into the tunnel, gasping for breath, while the red globs revert to blue crystals.


    Instead of also being spat out of the goop, Rotom phases into the tunnel straight from the wall. The clever little guy must have ghosted into the solid rock to escape the tree''s immune system.


    As I carefully examine myself for any injuries, I am relieved to find that everything seems to be in order. Surprisingly, the red goop appears to have removed the residual dust and grime that had accumulated on my fur while watching the battle with the Regis.


    I feel remarkably cleaner and refreshed than before, almost as if I have just emerged from a relaxing, warm shower.


    Although the whole ordeal lasted less than a minute, it made me far more cautious about touching anything crystalline.


    Shaking myself and carefully leaning against the wall, I take a moment to catch my breath and then curse as I suddenly realize that my ranger capture styler is missing from its holster.


    It was risky to take it with me since it was mostly made of synthetic materials rather than Pok¨¦mon-derived ones. Even the glass vial with the crystal shard had stayed perfectly untouched.


    Oh well, I would just have to requisition a new one when I returned to Unova. I should probably ask about a salary when I get back because capture stylers are not cheap to replace.


    Rotom flies over to my shoulder and folds its wings up, extending two little foot clamps so that it can land on my shoulder. Its presence consols my frustration at the lost equipment, and I give the ghost an affectionate pat on the head.


    It rubs its body against my head, and I can''t help but smile at the affectionate living camera. A sudden desire to give the little guy a name overcomes me. Dustin hadn''t been one for nicknaming his Pok¨¦mon, always referring to them by their species name, but as much as I mimic the man, I am not him.


    My team feels like family to me; they are part of my pack, and not giving them names feels wrong. I don''t feel right naming Kirlia because he was Dustin''s Pok¨¦mon first, but Rotom was mine alone. I pick up the camera drone with one hand and ask the ghost a question.


    "How would you like a name, little one," I ask


    The ghost bobs up and down, most likely just enjoying the attention I was giving it, but I take it as a yes regardless.


    "How does Snap sound?" I ask, smiling to myself at the double meaning between how I snapped it out of the air that first time and how shuddered cameras sounded.


    The ghost unfolds its wings and makes a lazy loop around my head before hovering above my right shoulder again.


    "All right then Snap, let''s get out of these damn tunnels and finally start exploring!" I can''t help but yell as I book it down the tunnel


    As I make the transition to moving on all fours, an electrifying surge of adrenaline spreads through my veins, propelling me forward with an invigorating sense of freedom.


    I race through the twisting tunnels, my senses sharpening as I eagerly hunt for the hidden treasures within the maze-like tunnel structure.


    Despite facing multiple forking paths, I easily maintain pace, instinctively following the smell of fresh water and verdant foliage, the latter of which being a near impossibility this deep underground.


    With a triumphant howl escaping my lips and Snap''s fan wings buzzing with power like a Beedrill by my side, the once dim, crystal-studded passageways give way to a breathtakingly radiant light.


    The suffocating confines of the tunnel walls drop away to unveil a colossal, awe-inspiring cavernous oasis absolutely teeming with life. The expansive open space seems almost inconceivably vast, harboring an entire underground ecosystem within the dome-like hollow beneath the revered Tree of Beginning.


    In a state of flabbergasted wonder, I behold a flock of Swablu darting by, closely trailed by a massive Aerodactyl¡ª a species long thought to have vanished from existence in the wild.


    I lower myself onto my haunches and ensure that Rotom is recording everything so that we can fully capture the awe-inspiring landscape in front of us.


    Positioned prominently on the cavern''s ceiling, a colossal white crystal stands out, emanating a magnificent and brilliant light. Its glow seems to harness the radiant energy of the sun from within, casting a mesmerizing illumination over everything below it.


    The ground below is adorned with lush green trees and bountiful berry bushes, while a grand river gracefully carves its path through the center, originating from some hidden spring and re-emerging a few hundred feet downstream.


    Hundreds of Pok¨¦mon crawl, swim, and fly through the space, filling the cavernous dome with abundant life.


    As my hand reaches out, Rotom lands delicately on it, and I guide its camera to capture the presence of each individual species I can spot from up here. I eagerly cross-reference each image with the internal Pok¨¦dex to confirm the breathtaking sight of several thought to be extinct Pok¨¦mon.


    Down by the river, I marvel at the elegant movements of Lileep, Cradily, Omanyte, and Anorith as they gracefully swim around the shards of the crystal-clear water. In the enchanting, densely forested areas, majestically armored Armaldo roams while swarms of Ledyba create a mesmerizing spectacle, practically coating specific trees in vibrant oranges and reds.


    Using my own experiences of the wilderness and Dustin''s expertise in surveying, I begin verbally documenting my analysis of the area for the recording.


    "This open cavern ecosystem appears to be a completely self-contained biome; exit and entrance points like the tunnels I entered from appear to be too small for most of the fully evolved species here to escape from. Water supplied from some underground source, likely mountain runoff making its way to an underground aquafer at a best guess."


    Aiming Rotoms camera from observation point to observation point, I finally focus on the massive crystal hanging from the ceiling.


    "Spectrograph readings lead me to believe that the light coming from the crystalline stalactite formation is directly funneling sunlight from the surface. I cannot say why this is the case, but given how deep underground we are, I have to assume that the crystal lattice must run throughout the bulk of the tree all the way to the tree''s canopy."


    As I observe the enclosed ecosystem closely, every minute reveals more about the intricate food chain at play. At the foundation of this web are the producers, including the lush berry bushes, towering trees, and deceptively delicate Lileep.


    It''s truly fascinating to witness these life-giving sources being consumed by the bug types, such as the swarms of Ledyba and the fascinating Anorith, as they carry out their role in this complex natural system.


    I release Kirlia by my side so that he can enjoy the view as well and carefully continue recording all my observations.


    The Swablu, near the top of the food chain, displayed remarkable hunting skills as they pursued the bug Pok¨¦mon, while also being acutely aware of their vulnerability to the apex species of the entire area, the awe-inspiring Aerodactyl.


    It''s a mesmerizing sight, and I can''t help but be absorbed by the intricate dynamics of this natural pocket ecosystem.


    <hr>


    As evening approaches, my Pok¨¦mon and I finally descend into the underground valley oasis. I probably should have set up camp in the tunnel, but my curiosity got the better of me. Maneuvering through the underbrush to get close-up scans of each of the extinct species, I feel giddy as I observe the readouts.


    Several contested theories exist about Pok¨¦mon resurrected via fossils, and I may have just inadvertently found the evidence needed to disprove one of them.


    One theory suggests that the fossil resurrection process inherently imparts a rock-type aura to the revived subject. Conversely, a counter hypothesis posits that rock-type Pok¨¦mon are simply more likely to leave behind fossils suitable for the resurrection process, and that the ancient Pok¨¦mon revived from these fossils were always rock types.


    My scans indicate that all the extinct Pok¨¦mon in the valley were rock types. This data alone made the entire expedition worthwhile, even in the unlikely event that I didn''t find anything else of interest.


    Setting my sights on the ''sky'', I can''t help but notice the peculiar behavior of the Swablu as they gracefully descend to the ground. It dawned on me that the ancient Pok¨¦mon inhabiting this area were not the only interesting creatures here.


    Typically, Swablu avoid making contact with the ground whenever possible. It was not unheard of for them to drift on air currents while sleeping, potentially even spending most of their lives airborne, descending only to perch high amidst mountainous cliffs to nest.


    The sight was truly astonishing as I witnessed a whole flock swiftly making their way into an underground burrow. Guarding the entrance was a majestic Altaria, its colossal, billowing body providing a shield of protection.


    The Altaria''s eyes focused unweaveringly on the gaps in the canopy above. It strikes me that this behavior must have evolved over countless generations as a survival strategy in response to the threat of Aerodactyl predation.


    As I watch the scene, the Altaria suddenly notices us and fluffs its feathers threateningly in response to the group of Pok¨¦mon near its concealed den, which is teeming with its young.


    My connection with Kirlia conveys the sense that Altaria is uncertain about our presence and hesitant to launch a direct assault on Pok¨¦mon it was unfamiliar with.


    With careful steps, I made my way toward the glorious creature, fully aware of the absence of my capture styler to ease its apprehension of me.


    Despite this, I had a strategy to soothe its worry as I had spent a few hours collecting an assortment of berries from the surrounding area, intending to have them analyzed by the researchers upon my return to camp.


    Being mindful, I have Rotom perch on my shoulder and Kirlia nestle into my mane as I cautiously approach the creature, offering it the fruits of my foraging with open intent.


    Dragons typically react to food offerings in one of two ways: they either immediately attack, or sometimes they accept the offering and allow you to go about your business if you demonstrate yourself as a non-threat.


    Altaria, a Pok¨¦mon that acquires dragon typing upon evolution, typically exhibits a more subdued emotional response compared to other dragon species. Therefore, I feel pretty confident in getting on its good side so I can get close-up scans with Rotom.


    Avoiding direct eye contact, I slowly approach with my offering, and the Altaria allows me, eyeing the berries with a hungry avian glint.


    After consuming the first two berries, the bird appeares satisfied to ignore me. But as I continued to offer more from my seemingly limitless supply, a revelation appeared to dawn on its bird brain.


    Suddenly, the avian gently starts shoving me around with its shockingly soft, fluffy wings. Rather than attacking me, I soon understood that it was forcibly pushing me into its underground den.


    My natural night vision easily makes out the forms of nearly a dozen fluffy blue and white bodies as they turn their hungry gazes on me. After being swarmed and having to empty my entire hoard of berry ''samples,'' I find myself sitting among a content flock of adolescent bird Pok¨¦mon.


    With the den guarded by a literal dragon, I belatedly realize this spot is the safest place for me to spend the night. As I settle into a comfortable spot, the Swablu pile around me, seeking my warmth and creating a soft, downy wall of fluff on all sides. With Kirlia nestled protectively in my mane and Rotom vigilantly watching from my shoulder, a deep sense of contentment washes over me.


    And that''s when the Altaria started to ''sing'' its young to sleep. The melodious crooning nearly brought a tear to my eye, not just because of the beauty of the sound but how special the moment felt.


    At this moment, I feel like I have found a literal slice of heaven.


    <hr>

 Chapter 8: Do not go gentle into that good night

    "-Though wise men at their end know dark is right,


    Because their words had forked no lightning they


    Do not go gentle into that good night.-" -Dylan Thomas


    When morning arrives, Altaria moves away from the entrance, causing sunlight to pour into the den and waking the occupants within.


    The Swablu eagerly fly out the mouth of the den at the first opportunity, following their parent as it takes to the sky, gently flapping its downy wings to keep aloft as it waits for all its offspring to take to the air with it.


    One of the Swablu had gotten a bit too comfortable last night and found itself tangled in my mane upon waking up. It takes almost a minute to untangle it, and I have to have Kirlia help me free the poor thing before the waiting mother Altaria, could get angry with me for ''distressing'' one of its young.


    With a sigh of relief, the last pseudo dragon bird is freed and takes off to join its brethren in the ''sky''.


    As the family takes off to forage, I exit the den and try in vain to tame the wild mess my mane had become.


    With a sigh of resignation, I give up on the attempt and instead break out a few food rations for my team and me.


    After a quick breakfast, I spend several hours recollecting as many berry and plant samples as I can before reluctantly deciding to move on from this paradise sanctuary.


    The sad fact was that after only two days of exploration, there really wasn''t anything else I could do here. Additionally, If I remained out of communication for any longer, the rest of the team would probably assume I''d died.


    So reluctantly, I climb into one of the many outer tunnels leading to the surface and follow the path upward. The flow of air and the scent of the outside world telling me that I am on the right track.


    The tunnel is longer than expected though, and upon reaching the surface, I realize that it had taken me nearly to the halfway point of the tree. This zone was where the layers of rocky ''canopy'' started to be covered with green growth, giving the Tree of Beginning its moniker.


    Without the radio transceiver from my capture styler, it would be a bit more challenging to contact base camp, but thankfully, Rotom had a transceiver of his own.


    The only issue is that Rotom''s drone body is better at receiving signals than it is at transmitting them¡ªwell, at least in the encrypted frequencies used by the league for covert missions like this, anyway.


    This shouldn''t be an insurmountable issue, though. If I can just let base Camp know our exact position, we should be able to get a tight beam link going. That would allow us to transmit our findings without having to encrypt the data first.


    Planting my feet and exerting dark energy outward, I cast an incorporeal net into the air. Fluttering in the wind like an advertising banner, my message: ''Point radio dish here for report,'' ripples with prismatic colors, trying to gain anyone''s attention down at the base camp only a few miles away.


    Hopefully, the banner isn''t too large to be noticed from a significant distance; I only wanted the ground team to notice this, not some random civilian in Rota who just happened to look at the tree at the wrong moment.


    Thirty seconds later, the signal is bridged, and I dissipate the banner to initiate communication.


    "This is Ranger Echo reporting in." I state professionally through the new com link


    Almost instantly, Brandon''s voice tries to reply, but in the background cheering and celebration from the rest of the team drowns him out.


    Ah, it feels good to be appreciated. As the excitement continues for the next couple of minutes, an exasperatedly satisfied smile creeps onto my face.


    After the fervor finally dies down, Brandon speaks, and I can''t help but imagine the rest of the team crowding around the radio to hear our conversation.


    "Echo, we are glad to hear back from you. We were getting worried when you didn''t report in after the first day. I assume you found some interesting things in there?" Brandon says with evident relief


    "Oh, you know. I might have found a thing or two." I drawl. "Give me a moment to send you what I have, and then you guys can tell me what you think." I say, eagerly awaiting their reaction to the data dump I am transmitting


    It is no exaggeration to say that they were floored with what I provided to them. There were dozens of specialists recruited for this expedition and all of them were clamoring to talk with me. It sounded like they were not above shoving Brandon out of the way either.


    Instead of the praise I was anticipating, I am bombarded with dozens of excited questions as the research teams pounced on the data like a pack of wild poochyena.


    Carefully and systematically addressing every inquiry to the best of my ability, fully aware that my every word is being documented, potentially destined for inclusion in the annals of history.


    Hours later as their relentless questioning about my discoveries and observations drew to a close, the sun hung low in the sky, surrendering to the encroaching darkness of night.


    As the sun fully descends below the horizon, the night sky is adorned with the gentle glow of the stars. It seems as though the moon has completely vanished, engulfed by the darkness of a ''new moon'' unilluminated by the sun.


    This phase of the lunar cycle signals prime hunting time for dark-type Pok¨¦mon, and I am aware that any attempt at rest tonight will be futile, as my instincts dumped adrenaline into my system in anticipation of a hunt.


    ''Ah well, I got plenty of sleep yesterday anyway; it wouldn''t kill me to explore a bit more during the night.'' I think to myself


    I let the team know that I am going to scale the tree a bit to see if there are any more cave entrances further up in the tree''s rocky ''canopy''. After getting confirmation and approval for my plan, I cut the connection and proceed to climb the near-vertical rock wall.


    I probably should have unpacked my climbing equipment from my bag, but I found that my claws dug into the solid rock easily enough, allowing me to climb a bit quicker than a human climber would have been able to with all their safety equipment.


    I figure if worse came to worse I could grab onto Rotom and have him produce drag to mitigate the dangers of a fall. Actually, now that I thought about it, that could be a rather useful selling point for when Rotom devices are introduced to the open market.


    I spend hours steadily making progress up the side of the Tree, nearly three-fourths of the way up to the top when my claw suddenly slips straight through the rock cliff face as if it''s not there.


    Struggling to hold on, I felt my grip slipping away. At the very last moment, I managed to regain my hold. Gathering my senses, I fixed my gaze on the part of the tree where my arm had plunged through, almost as if it had vanished into thin air.


    It acted almost like a Zoroarks'' illusion, bending light to hide the opening from the outside world.


    I stared at the area for a while, trying to figure out what it was. Finally, I decided to have Rotom land on my hand and stick him inside to record what''s on the other side.


    Just as I finish sticking him inside, Rotom is pulled out of my grip by something. In a panic, I stupidly stick my head through the false cliff face to see what happened.


    The area inside is a long tube-like structure with transparent green globs of something flowing upward against gravity.


    Higher up, I see that Rotom has been caught by one of the green globs and is having difficulty escaping. Without thinking, I climb into the tube and start jumping off of the green globs, trying to reach Rotom before he gets out of sight.


    Thankfully, the glowing green globs proved to be stable and sturdy enough to support my weight as I made my way towards Rotom. As I carefully freed him and balanced on top of the pulsing glob, I couldn''t help but marvel at the strange beauty of the scene before me.


    After consulting Rotom''s scans, it became apparent that the green globs were actually condensed energy organelles of the tree, adding an intriguing layer to the mystery surrounding them.


    We find ourselves in a space that resembles a bizarre interpretation of a circulatory system. The floating green globs are reminiscent of giant chloroplasts or mitochondria, and it''s possible that the opening we entered from provides the tree with essential gases like oxygen, carbon dioxide, or both.


    The scene is nothing short of stunning as the dark tunnel is illuminated only by the radiant green energy globs. Our tunnel appears to intersect with other "arteries," up ahead, converging around a central point before diverging in various directions.


    Reluctant to ride the globs any longer, I spot another permeable air hole and gather enough courage to hop through, praying not to end up in an even more treacherous part of the tree''s bizarre alien physiology.


    As I emerge from the tree''s circulatory system, I stumble upon a striking sight ¨C a thirty-foot-tall blue and purple crystal monolith housed in a chamber glowing with an ethereal green light.


    The area surrounding this monolith is adorned with vibrant green crystals that seem to organically branch out, creating an enchanting spectacle. I can''t help but wonder about the extent of the crystal lattice and whether it reaches the surface.


    If it does, the entire area would be bathed in a mesmerizing glow once the sunlight hits, possibly filtering through the tree all the way down to the ancient Pok¨¦mon that dwells at its roots.


    Additionally, as I gaze around, I notice intriguing side tunnels on the opposite side of the room. The air carries a distinct scent, hinting that I could easily navigate my way back outside by simply following the trail of fresh air to the surface.


    With measured steps, I approach the immense crystal structure, feeling the tree''s condensed energy pulsating through this central hub. It''s as if I''ve stumbled upon the tree''s nervous system. As I walk around the monolith of crystal, a surprising sight brings me to a halt.


    The weathered leather pack, worn and cracked from the passage of time, looks like a relic from a bygone era, looking more like a museum piece than anything.


    As Rotom diligently documents every detail, I carefully kneel next to the pack and closely examine the worn and tarnished crest. Despite its age, the crest proudly proclaims its allegiance to the ancient line of the aura guardians.


    Cautious not to disturb the priceless artifact, I task Rotom with a thorough scan, which uncovers only remnants of half-disintegrated cloth inside.


    Feeling a twinge of disappointment at the lack of any substantial findings, I rise from my kneeling position. Just as I begin to move on, I am suddenly transfixed as my gaze lands on the striking silhouette of a man seemingly trapped within the crystal.


    As I stand there, my heart pounding and my breath catching in my throat, I can''t help but fixate on the unmistakable form of Sir Arron. He lies perfectly preserved in a reclined position, as if trapped in amber like an ancient mosquito, holding a crystal staff close to his chest with reverence.


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    His frozen expression portrays a sad, resigned acceptance.


    Had Aaron known he''d be crystalized like this? What exactly had he done that the tree did this to him?


    My heart aches at the sight of the crystal staff he is holding.


    If Sir Aaron''s Lucario had been contained within the staff, its life would likely have been extinguished long ago. The stasis field, lacking the support of a trainer''s Aura or any other energy source, wouldn''t have been capable of sustaining the life force trapped within for the hundreds of years it endured.


    Was that why Aaron looked so resigned and sad? Had his partner refused to leave his side even as he was dying?


    I knelt down, tears streaming through the fur on my face, as I reverently placed a claw on Sir Aaron''s final resting place. Before me lay a near-mythical figure of history, separated from me by only a foot of crystal.


    In that moment, I come to realize that I might be the first and possibly only person to ever witness this sight outside of a recording. As I gaze at the scene, lost in reverie, Kirlia gives me a warning impression through our connection, jolting me back to the present. With a graceful hop, Kirlia jumps out of his spot in my mane, lightly landing on the ground and perfectly poised for battle beside me.


    As I turn my back to the shimmering crystal, my eyes dart in the direction of the side tunnels, anticipating the approach of a wild Pok¨¦mon. However, in that moment, I completely miss the sudden flash of light behind me.


    Startled, I find myself skidding across the ground, the reverberations of a ''force palm'' attack leaving my head ringing from the point-blank impact. As I struggle to regain my bearings, Kirlia rushes to my side. Together, we are met with an utterly surreal and impossible sight unfolding before us.


    In front of us stands Sir Aaron''s Lucario, with the staff emanating a gentle glow from within the crystal. The crystal doesn''t appear to hinder the staff''s release function in any way. As I look into its cold, red eyes, I can''t discern any of the intelligence I had once hoped to find.


    Instead, I see an expression akin to that of a protective guard dog defending its master''s grave. The staff had somehow remained in stasis all this time, and now, without a capture styler and feeling concussed from its initial strike to my head, I have to find a way to deal with this situation.


    In a blur of impossible speed, Lucario gracefully sidesteps Kirlia''s psychic attack, swiftly knocking my legs out from under me. Dazed and unable to react, I find myself defenseless as a dangerously potent Aura Sphere materializes, its lethal energy aimed directly at my head.


    "Wait!" I try to shout, but Aarons'' Lucario releases the attack regardless


    In a split second, Rotom interposes himself between the attack and my face, shielding me from the brunt of the damage. Chaos unfolds as Kirlia surges forward, using telekinetic force to push Lucario away from me and standing protectively between me and the angry Lucario.


    The world begins to blur, the concussion finally hitting home with a nice helping of vertigo and nausea, making it nearly impossible to focus. Despite the haze, I still discern Kirlia''s familiar defensive stance, heartwrenchingly reminiscent of when he had tried to protect Dustin from me.


    Determined to prevent history from repeating itself, I fumble urgently through the equipment bag in search of a potion.


    Suddenly, another explosion shatters the air, pulling my attention back to the battle. The fragmented remains of Rotom''s drone vessel crashes to the ground, billowing smoke into the air. Thankfully I notice a glowing black cube still intact on the ground. Rotom had evidently retreated to the Drones durable black box at the last second.


    Lucarios''s eyes shine with ''foresight,'' showing how he''d managed to hit Rotom through his ghostly immunity; Kirlia, undaunted, lands a retaliatory ''psybeam'' pushing Lucario further back.


    In the midst of the intense battle, a moment of stillness emerges as Lucario and Kirlia face each other with unwavering determination. Seizing the opportunity, I carefully administer a super potion directly to my head, easing the throbbing pain and pressure, although not completely curing me as I''d hoped.


    The interior of the cave slowly starts to brighten as the first light of dawn filters through the myriad of crystals, casting a mesmerizing radiance throughout the space.


    Lucario begins charging another Aura Sphere, but to my shock, its power is now orders of magnitude greater than all its previous attacks. It dawns on me with a jolt of horror that Lucario had been quietly stacking ''Calm Minds'' during the lull, boosting its offensive and defensive powers exponentially.


    As the dawns'' light seems to peak, Kirlia urgently tugs at our bond, radiating a sense of urgency and desperation. Reacting on pure instinct, I draw upon my surplus of energy, knowing it might not be compatible with him yet still hoping for a miracle.


    Our opposing energies clash in Kirlia''s body causing him to shudder in pain. Lucarios attack fires with all the inevitable weight of an oncoming rockslide. And then, against all odds, the miracle happens.


    A blinding flash of light engulfs Kirlia''s form, and before the transformation is even complete, a blade infused with psychic force materializes, deflecting the oncoming Aura Sphere and causing it to explode violently against the cave wall.


    The light of evolution fades from Kirlia''s form, and a formidable Gallade emerges in his place. With a swift, protective movement, he crosses his newly formed elbow blades in front of himself, emitting a defiant roar as he openly challenges Aaron''s Lucario.


    As our bond intensifies, I realize that Gallade is metabolizing my dark energy with his newfound fighting-type nature, infusing him with newfound strength.


    The two Pok¨¦mon dash towards each other, preparing to engage in close-quarters combat. Suddenly, an unnatural stillness fills the air, halting all movement. A sense of unease grips me as an overwhelming pressure envelops the cave, unlike anything I have ever experienced.


    What emerges is like a living sun, emanating an immense, unstoppable power. We are all frozen in place, as if held by an invisible force, as the entity soars between Lucario and Gallade, observing us with a piercing gaze, as if reprimanding us for our reckless behavior. Then, as quickly as it comes, the intense pressure vanishes.


    Before us hovers a Pok¨¦mon that is shrouded in myth and mystery. Its ethereal form seems almost surreal, with whispers of its existence etched into the ancient tombstones of long-forgotten civilizations, as if they were pleading for its presence to bring them salvation.


    Merely a few feet away from me floats Mew, the progenitor of all Pok¨¦mon. Some believe it to be the very first offspring of Arceus, the bringer of life and creator of the Pok¨¦mon universe.


    Despite its profound significance, Mew appears as an unassuming pink cat, standing at a mere foot and a half in height, yet its gaze carries an air of expectation and wisdom.


    Lucario hesitantly takes the first step, approaching Mew with its head turned away and ears flattened against its head. Showing affection, Mew gives Lucario a few gentle licks on the head before Lucario moves to stand protectively in front of Aaron''s body.


    As I try to stand up, still reeling from the shock of seeing the mythical being, my unsteady legs give way, and I end up toppling back to the ground.


    Mew floats closer and closer until it is mere inches away from my face, its iridescent blue eyes locking onto my green ones. With gentle precision, it places a stubby front paw on my forehead, and a warm pulse of healing energy spreads throughout my body, lingering in areas that are damaged and concentrating for an unexpectedly long time in my head.


    As the healing energy works its magic, I can''t help but notice a shift in Mew''s gaze, as if it has transitioned from a comforting presence to a focused, calculating force, as if it is grappling with a mesmerizing, intricate puzzle.


    In an instant, Gallade rushes to my side, his protective nature evident as he checks to see if I am unharmed. Mew lets out a little giggle at Gallade''s concern, giving him a friendly pat before fluttering over to Lucario.


    Fully restored, I steady myself and cautiously make my way towards Rotom''s shattered drone body, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the majestic, god-like being hovering just a few feet away.


    I mutter frustrated curses under my breath as I survey the wreckage of the recording equipment. It''s a bitter realization to be without a scanner at this crucial moment. After taking a deep breath and forcing myself to calm down, I carefully retrieve Rotom''s black box. To my relief, he appears to be holding up fine within it.


    Despite the chaos, I can''t help but feel thankful that everyone on my team is still alive. The encounter with the powerful Lucario could have easily turned disastrous for us at any moment.


    As I gather all of Rotom''s pieces and secure them, Gallade and I make a mutual decision to quietly slip away while Mew is preoccupied with Lucario. However, just as we are about to make our escape, I halt in my tracks as I notice Mew grasping Lucario''s head between its stubby paws.


    Lucario seems to be in a state of deep meditation with closed eyes, and in that moment, the entire crystal structure illuminates with a powerful flare.


    The entire cave brightens as power flows through the Tree of Beginning, funneling directly to Mew, which focuses all its laser-like attention on Lucario''s forehead. Mew''s long tail darts out, piercing the crystal encasing Aaron''s corpse like a striking viper and piercing his chest with the tip.


    A mixture of curiosity and instinct roots me in place as I stare at the Mythical Legend performing what must be a miracle.


    When the glow of the crystals returns to its usual radiance after Mew completes its actions, Lucario, overcome with exhaustion, collapses to one knee. One of its paws is pressed against its head while the other touches the ground for support, preventing it from toppling over. In a voice that shines as brightly as a sunbeam, Lucario speaks, its words resonating with the power of its Aura.


    "Mew? What-Where." A man''s voice echoes into the quiet chamber


    He lowers his ''hand'' to his face and stares at the blue paw.


    ''The legends said that Aaron had given his life-his aura to The Tree of Beginning to end the war; what the stories didn''t say was that the tree had held onto that aura all this time.'' I think in awe-struck wonder


    Confused, Red eyes turn my way, and with slack-jawed certainty, I comprehend what had just been done.


    Mew had given the Aura back.

 Chapter 9: The Duality of Man and Mon

    Since it is so likely children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave Knights and heroic courage. -C.S Lewis


    <hr>


    Lucario/Aaron and I stare at each other in mutual shock, and it''s only when Mew lets out a pitiful whine that our attention shifts to the mythical Pok¨¦mon.


    Mew''s delicate tail is ensnared in the crystal, still piercing through Aaron''s human form. The ethereal pink feline tugs at its tail in desperation, but it seems to be hopelessly trapped, having apparently exhausted itself with its prior display of power.


    I turn back to Lucario/Aaron and wince at the wide-eyed stare he-they? are giving Aaron''s corpse.


    ''Okay, ya. It''s probably best that I give them a minute to process their new situation.'' I think, hesitantly deciding to try helping Mew out of its predicament.


    Slowly, I walk over to Mew with Gallade following closely behind, his wary gaze focusing on the newly transmigrated hero, while I watch the mythical Pok¨¦mon continue struggling to free itself.


    With deliberate care, I manage to release Mew, but not without the unfortunate consequence of its tail being badly scratched by the sharp crystal shards from Aaron''s tomb.


    I quickly reach into my equipment bag and grab a super potion. I apply it to the scratches, and to my amazement, the high-potency medicine causes the injuries to visibly regenerate in a matter of seconds.


    It is actually a bit unsettling to witness, as even with the strongest potions, it generally takes a few minutes to see any visible effects. Whatever Mew is, it did not have a normal physiology.


    Mew seems equally fascinated with the process and, after it fully recovers, gives me an affectionate hug.


    In the blink of an eye, Mew undergoes a remarkable transformation, assuming the precise appearance of a Zorua kit. I am utterly bewildered by this sudden change since I can tell this is not a mere illusion.


    Even the scent emanating from Mew is that of a Zorua. Every one of my senses is convinced that the Pok¨¦mon in my arms is a tired-looking Zorua kit, and when suddenly presented with this baffling situation I let instinct guide my reaction.


    Before another thought had a chance to enter my mind, I acted, stuffing Mew into my mane as if it were one of my offspring.


    Only after Mew settled in did my brain finally catch up with my body''s lingering paternal instincts. Freezing in place and slowly looking back, I watch carefully for Mews''s reaction. What I receive in response is a happy Zorua yip as Mew snuggles into a comfortable sleeping position.


    I feel as if I''d somehow accidentally strapped a bomb to my back, not knowing how to react and almost too afraid to move. I glance back at Lucario/Aaron in silent panic at my situation and find them still staring at Aaron''s human corpse. Silent tears trickling from their eyes.


    Eventually, a weary sigh escapes them as they turn to meet my gaze. The sheer flood of emotions on their face distracting me completely from the mythical Pok¨¦mon sleeping in my mane.


    Slowly standing up from their crouched position, they focus their attention entirely on me. An odd wave of resignation crossing their lupine features.


    "You have my apologies for attacking you earlier. Lucario,- I mean- <u>I</u> did not know why you were here, and I ¨C Aaron, he-." they trail off briefly, seemingly confusing themselves with how to phrase who they were talking about.


    Evidently, the fused entity had a more complete mixing of memories/consciousnesses than my situation. They didn''t seem to have a distinct separation between them; their consciousnesses completely blended. This understandably made speaking about their former selves a tad bit difficult to articulate.


    If I had to guess, Mew had turned them into something like a gestalt consciousness. In some ways, I kind of envy them. They didn''t have to deal with the same existential problems that I have with Dustin''s stolen memories and aura.


    Getting a hold of themselves, Lucario/Aaron brush past the conversational speed bump and push forward.


    "I think I understand now why you are here. If this is our end¡­ then so be it." Lucario/Aaron says, closing their eyes and relaxing into a quieter aura ''voice.''


    I''d have to ask them how they are doing that later because he sounds almost indistinguishable from an average human, and I can tell that they are making real sound waves by the way their voice echoes in the cave.


    "I will not be ungrateful for the time we were allowed,¡­ and I do not begrudge you your own duty. As long as Mew''s last gift to us holds and we are allowed to pass on together¡­I care not which afterlife you take us to." Aaron/Lucario finish, opening their eyes with a defiant glint as if daring me to try separating them from each other.


    ''Wait. Afterlife? Do they think I am some sort of psychopomp-like entity here to guide their souls to the afterlife?'' I think confusedly.


    ''Actually, if Lucario had heard my deep voice when I was pleading with him to ''wait,'' it would make sense for Aaron to mistake a talking Dark-type Pok¨¦mon like me as some sort of grim reaper-like entity, especially when face-to-face with his own corpse.


    ''In fact, now that I think about it, some older religions made reference to deities like Giratina and Darkrai using messengers to ferry souls to their respective realms after death.''


    ''And here I show up, an unknown <u>dark</u> type with an unknown <u>ghost</u> type following me. It would be all too easy to assume we were here for their souls, especially if Aaron thought Lucario had died with him in the end.''


    The only part that didn''t fit was Kirlia/Gallade, but maybe Aaron thought he was one of Arceus''s Arbiters, ensuring divine judgment was applied fairly to the dead.


    "I think you might be mistaken as to why I''m here. If you let me, I can explain the situation in better detail, but before that, may I know whom I''m speaking to?" I ask them, already growing tired of trying to figure out what to call the fusion in my head.


    Lucario/Aaron ponder the question, but it''s not long before they simply say, "You can just call me Aaron for the time being, and if I may ask, what may I call you?"


    "It''s an honor to meet you Aaron. My friends call me Echo, and just to be clear, you are not dead¡­ Well, technically, your former human self''s body is dead, but I think you understand my meaning. It''s been a long, long time since your human half died, and I must confess I don''t know what to tell you other than Mew has given you a second chance at life." I say to Aaron, feeling completely out of my depth at the situation.


    Aaron looks down at his paws in contemplation momentarily before returning his gaze to me.


    "If you are not here for our souls, then¡­may I ask you a few questions?" Aaron asks me, and I answer immediately, "Of course, ask as many questions as you wish."


    "What exactly are you, and why are you here? You are evidently not what I thought you were, yet I do not understand how you can speak as you are. You aren''t even using aura to talk, so that rules out a bonded using projection speech." Aaron states warily


    Huh, I wonder if ''bonded'' meant the same thing as a trainer in Aaron''s era.


    "It''s a long story, but I am what''s known as a Zoroark, inadvertently infused with an explorer''s aura and memories, not unlike your own situation. I was tasked with exploring the Tree of Beginning since the tree has become hostile to all human incursion since your disappearance some 700 years ago." I explain


    There is another pause while Aaron processes my response.


    ''¡­700 years is a long time. Tell me, does the kingdom of Rota still yet stand?'' Aaron asks with slight trepidation


    "It does indeed, and in no small part thanks to your efforts at ending the war. In fact, there was an additional task the royal family gave me if I found your final resting place." I say while carefully reaching for the time flower case from within my equipment bag.


    Aaron watches with curiosity as I take out the organic-looking crystal recorder from its reinforced travel case and hold it out.


    With reverence, I intone to the resurrected hero:


    "It has been over seven hundred years since your fall, Sir Aaron, yet the kingdom of Rota has never once forgotten your sacrifice. They tasked me with bringing this message to your final resting place." With those words, I activate the flower, a sphere of projected imagery and sounds surrounding us in translucent light.


    I hadn''t viewed the entirety of the recording while practicing aura techniques with Illene, so it surprises me when the first recorded eulogy moved on from one set of people to another and then another.


    Each generation of Rota''s royalty having apparently added onto the flower''s recording, thanking Aaron for his sacrifice and vowing to uphold the ideals of peace he had died to protect.


    There are almost two dozen generations in total, each with a unique perspective and each eliciting fresh tears from both of us as we watch.


    This must have been a secret tradition of Rota''s Royal family. They had no expectations or political agenda tied to the act; they simply gave thanks, and I can see that it means the world to Aaron; he hasn''t blinked once since the recording started.


    After enduring the lengthy recording session, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion. Having ascended halfway up the tree, recovered from severe head injuries, and maintained a prolonged aura-powered projection, I felt on the verge of collapsing right then and there.


    "I-that, I can''t believe it. So much time has passed, and yet, after all this time they still¡­" Aaron trails off, at a loss for what to say next.


    As Aaron takes his time to process everything, I maintain a respectful silence. It must be incredibly difficult for him to come to terms with the fact that everyone he once knew has been gone for so long.


    The decision he makes next will undoubtedly have significant implications, and I am prepared to stand by him, no matter which path he chooses to take from here.


    He may choose to make his home within the ancient tree, living a life of solitude like a hermit, disconnected from the hustle and bustle of the modern world.


    Alternatively, if he emerges and shares his presence with the world, I would eagerly and unreservedly follow the path he paves, even if it goes against the wishes of the league.


    As soon as he regains his composure, he hits me with a barrage of questions. His first inquiry is about Rotom, as he vividly recalls battling it from the perspective of his Lucario half. I make an ill-advised decision to explain that Rotom is a species of Pok¨¦mon with the ability to inhabit electrical devices.


    The situation takes an unexpected turn as I now have to delve deep into detailed explanations of what electronics are, which then leads to me explaining modern industrial manufacturing practices, which inevitably leads to international trade, and, finally, the formation of the league.


    It is unexpectedly enjoyable to share these concepts with one of Dustin''s childhood heroes, especially since his genuine curiosity seems to have no limits.


    Almost like that first day, I inherited Dustin''s aura and realized the depth of even the most mundane objects, like lightbulbs.


    It''s also painfully easy to see that Aaron is using the barrage of questions to help mentally distance himself from the pain of having lost what was essentially his whole world.


    Still, he genuinely seems to enjoy hearing my answers, so I gladly acquiesce to a long crash course on the modern world.


    As we delve deeper into specific topics, I soon realize that I cannot answer his questions completely anymore. My knowledge, gained from Dustin''s memories, is simply no match to Aaron''s insatiable curiosity.


    By the time I finally have to stop our conversation, the sun was likely beginning its slow descent toward the horizon based on the light coming from the crystals surrounding us.


    Mew, having never left my mane, nestled further in and starts dozing again, a picture of contentment. Despite the peaceful scene, I can''t shake off the creeping concern about the team''s possible reaction to my prolonged absence from communication. When I inform Aaron of the people waiting for me, he declares that he will join me on my return.


    His decision might have been influenced by the fact that one of Rota''s Royalty, Illene, was waiting at the camp and Aaron felt the royal family deserved his thanks, regardless of the consequences of revealing himself to the league.


    We take a few last moments to gaze at Aaron''s crystalized human remains. Fulfilling my obligation, I place the time flower on the ground as if placing flowers before a gravestone. As I step back, Aaron puts a paw on the crystal and closes his eyes briefly as if in prayer.


    Once that is done, he picks up his aged and crumbling satchel from the ground and slings it over his shoulder. The worn material surprisingly holding together even after all this time. With a nod of confirmation, we are off.


    As we venture through the sparkling crystal tunnels, we are met with the melodic cawing of bird Pok¨¦mon nesting in the lush canopy of the trees. Emerging near the treetop, we are treated to a breathtaking panoramic view of everything within a fifty-mile radius. In the distance, Cameron Palace stood proudly, its distinct silhouette appearing somewhat altered since Aaron''s previous visit, yet unmistakably occupying the same timeless location.


    "Are we to camp here for the night before heading down or do you have a flying mount we can call upon?" Aaron asks me.


    "Neither, actually; Gallade and I set a teleport point back at the base camp. I''ll have to return myself to a Pokeball first, though, since teleportation is nearly impossible due to my dark typing causing interference." I explain.


    "What exactly is a Pokeball? From the context, I assume it''s something like a capture staff?" Aaron asks in response.


    "Essentially, yes, it''s another type of capture device, just a bit more compact than you are used to is all," I explain to him as I pull out my Pokeball necklace from its hiding place within my chest fluff.


    "There might be some shock from the camp personnel when we teleport in, just stay calm and release me when we arrive. Everything should work itself out from there. The people who work for the league are genuinely good people, but they will swarm you with questions once they realize who you are, I guarantee it." I warn him.


    "Good to know and completely understandable given the situation. Even I find this all hard to believe and I''m living it¡­I almost wonder if I really did pass on, and this is my afterlife." Aaron says before trailing off.


    As if called by his words, Mew suddenly flies out of my mane and boops Aaron on the nose hard. The sudden hit shocks Aaron out of his thoughts, and he quickly tries to grab at the snickering pink menace.


    As he takes a few swipes at the Mythical entity, Mew dodges the quick attacks with supernatural ease, moving effortlessly around the hits like water, playfully giggling all the while. Mew flies off into the sky the moment Aaron stops ''playing,'' giving us a disturbingly human hand wave gesture before disappearing into one of the numerous fluffy white clouds above.


    Staring at the spot Mew disappeared in, I can''t help but ask, "You seem to treat Mew with some familiarity. Did you interact with it often in your previous life?"


    "Only a handful of times. Mew can be¡­ capricious, and I dared not bother it with trivial matters. Invoking its aid can cost a steep price, as you can tell from the body I left behind¡­But in the end, I suppose it must have some fondness for me if it brought me back." Aaron answers wistfully.


    A moment of companionable silence passes between us before I glance toward the waning sunlight and sigh.


    "Well then. Are you ready to head out?" I ask, turning away from the sky


    "Yes. I think I''m ready to face this new future now. Whatever it may have in store." Aaron murmurs with a smile. I smile back and clap his shoulder reassuringly before giving Gallade the command to teleport us all back to base camp and returning myself to my Pokeball.


    After being enveloped in a blur of dazzling, multicolored light, I find myself suddenly thrust into a scene of controlled pandemonium as the base camp swiftly responds to our unexpected arrival.


    Security teams immediately establish a perimeter, creating a clear, designated area that separates us from the rest of the personnel. A standard practice when confronted with the abrupt appearance of unfamiliar Pok¨¦mon in the camp.


    As I emerge from my Pokeball, there is a hush that falls over the camp. I look around and see Princess Illene standing next to Brandon. A smile spread across my face as I acknowledge them both.


    "All objectives completed, I''m ready for debrief whenever but I think my friend here might want to speak a few words first," I say into the shocked silence, having noticed Aaron locking gazes with Princess Illene.


    Aaron approaches Illene with deliberate, unhurried steps. He halts at a proper distance from her before gracefully sinking to one knee in a display of submission and reverence.


    "Princess Illene of the Kingdom of Rota. I, Sir Aaron, the first of my name, redeclare my vow of loyalty to the royal family. Though I am not the same as I once was and much time has passed, your family''s message to me has proven that you still embody all the values that I once gave my life to defend¡­"


    If possible, the camp becomes even quieter as Lucario''s aura projected declaration resonates throughout the camp, the revelation of just who this is dawning on the camp''s personnel.


    Only a few individuals seem to have enough presence of mind to pull out recording equipment, and I am unsurprised to see Ontario from the ghost sector among those unfazed by this unprecedented revelation of a hero of old returning from the dead.


    "I hereby declare my unwavering intent to defend the innocent, to uphold the codes of honor and chivalry in all things, and to once again serve Rota as its guardian." Aaron vows, never once breaking eye contact with Illene.


    Illene seems almost lost at what to say before finally getting a hold of herself, mentally evaluating the situation for only a few seconds before walking right up to Aaron and forcefully pulling him up to stand.


    "Rota gladly accepts your declaration, Sir Aaron, but there''s something I need to make absolutely clear." Illene proclaims while holding him by the shoulders, eyes blazing fiercely with conviction.


    "You kneel to no one, not even to me. Understood?" She all but demands of him.


    His reply is a single solemn nod of acceptance.


    The scene unfolds as though a dam has burst, with a flood of scientists swarming around us, eager to seize the historical moment with a relentless barrage of questions.


    Despite the chaos, Aaron handles the situation with remarkable poise, answering swiftly and to the best of his ability without showing any signs of being flustered by the sudden onslaught of people. Meanwhile, Brandon walks up alongside me as the rest of the camp directs their focus toward Aaron.


    "That''s really him then? This isn''t some elaborate prank." Brandon asks me, a strange mix of calculation and wonder in his tone


    "Yes sir, and no, this is not a prank. When I found him, his human body was encased in crystal, and his Lucario was preserved in stasis. I believe Aaron''s aura was preserved by the Tree of Beginning. Long story short, Mew arrived, did something to fuse Aaron''s Aura into his Lucario, and now we have this situation." I say, gesturing toward the crowd of people bombarding Aaron with questions.


    At the mention of Mew, Brandon''s eyes widen and I can see him making a visible effort to remember the league''s guidelines for mythical encounters. The league''s standard operating procedures for such events were purely theoretical, as there were no recorded encounters in modern history. As a result, most people never bothered to memorize those procedures, myself included.


    "Alright, first things first, get Aaron out of that mob and bring him to the quarantine tent on the north side of camp. I''m going to initiate a lockdown and have the two of you looked over before anything else. I''ll stop by with the veterinarians and specialist researchers in a few minutes." Brandon says confidently half a minute later.


    "Understood." I say before turning toward the crowd and yelling, "All right! Hold off on the questions until later, people. Yes, I see your disappointment, and I don''t care. HEY! Back away from the Lucario, or I will start biting people!" I say, quickly pushing my way through the crowd and pulling Aaron away, heading toward the designated quarantine tent.


    The quarantine tent resembles the medical tent but is distinguishable by the presence of plastic sheets and air vents that serve as a makeshift airlock at the entrance. As we enter, Aaron''s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store, as he marvels at every detail with childlike wonder.


    "What is this material? It''s as transparent as glass yet strangely flexible?" Aaron asks, taking one of the plastic flaps at the entrance and squeezing it lightly with one of his paws.


    "It''s kind of like an organic alloy; I don''t know the exact process, but materials such as oil and resins are mixed and heated, and the result is called a plastic. It''s non-reactive to most other substances, so it''s quite useful for a lot of things." I say before diverting his attention inside.


    "Listen, we may have to stay here for a day or two, so let me show you where everything is before the researchers show up, and I get stuck having to give my mission debriefing," I say as Aaron reluctantly nods in assent.


    In the brief moments of solitude, I guide Aaron to the location of essential provisions, such as food stores and water. The living conditions seem modest to me, but Aaron''s excitement makes me realize that he probably endured much harsher circumstances in his time period and that these living conditions are akin to royalty for him.


    Eventually, Brandon arrives with several key researchers and veterinarians, all of whom, with their scrubs, latex gloves, and even hairnets, almost resemble characters from medical TV shows.


    The researchers separate us into two adjoining sections to ''not interfere with scans,'' and Brandon starts by asking if I have any footage from Rotom that I could share. He had already noted the drone was missing from my person but he is pleasantly surprised when I provide the intact black box.


    Releasing Rotom from his little bunker cube, and after a few minutes of reviewing the raw footage later, Brandon praises me.


    "Echo, that was some good work out there. This is far beyond anything we could have expected from this mission. The league won''t forget this anytime soon, and I hope you realize this entire operation will be going down in the history books."


    "I figured as much; there wasn''t really any chance of keeping all this under wraps," I say, gesturing to Aaron in the other room as a veterinarian has him opening his mouth wide to check over his teeth.


    "When do you think the league will have to release this all to the public?" I ask, not at all troubled by the upcoming reveal of my existence, utterly certain that the mission''s results would get leaked one way or another.


    I always knew this day would come; the only difference now was that I am no longer alone in my situation. This kind of secret could only be kept for so long, and the league would be foolish not to mold the narrative by releasing the info themselves.


    "We''ve already started the process of trickling down information throughout the league''s hierarchy. Various high-level political figures are also being read in as we speak. I give it a month at most before everything is brought into full public view." Brandon explains.


    "On that note, the princess wanted me to invite you to stay at Cameron Palace until the public reveal occurs. Aaron is being given permanent residence there, and I imagine your experiences might help him adjust to his new circumstances. If I were you, I might also consider asking for some public speaking tips if you intend to address the public directly."


    "That''s actually not a bad idea, and you don''t have to ask me twice. Ya, I''ll gladly accept to stay in a luxurious historical castle, thank you very much." I say all too quickly, feeling more than a little excited at the prospect.


    Eventually, Brandon has me give a full verbal debrief of the mission in excruciating detail. When we get to the part where Mew fell asleep in my mane, Brandon halts my speech with a raised hand and immediately calls in some of the researchers from the other room who are in the process of scanning Aaron with sophisticated-looking Pokedex.


    Brandon orders the researchers to scan my mane for some reason, and their eyes almost bug out of their heads as the scanners start beeping in alarm.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    What could possibly be giving that kind of¡ªand then it hit me. Mew had had a damaged tail shortly before it had transformed and been stuffed into my mane. It was entirely possible that there were residual hairs left behind.


    The researchers have me lie on my stomach as they meticulously comb through my mane with fine-toothed brushes. As they do their work, the sensation of several people gently brushing through my mane has me almost purring in bliss. The only thing that kept me from embarrassing myself is that Brandon has me continue giving my report while this is happening.


    After I finish presenting my report and receive Brandon''s go-ahead to resume my seat, I glance back and notice three delicate glass vials resting on an aluminum tray. Each vial houses a solitary pink strand of hair, with the follicle containing DNA still perfectly preserved.


    "Holy shit." I say, barely comprehending the magnitude of what was in front of us


    Even bringing back a long-dead legendary hero might not compare to this. While I wasn''t an expert in genetics, Mew DNA could potentially answer many of humanity''s questions on how life truly originated on the planet. Were all Pok¨¦mon truly descended from Mew, and if so, how did anyone actually know that for there to be legends about it?


    The Mew we encountered appeared to be the very same Mew Aaron had known over 700 years ago, suggesting that Mew might be truly immortal. Alternatively, it could be transferring memories to its offspring or utilizing a similar mechanism. Its demonstrated ability to manipulate Aura implied that anything was within its capabilities.


    "I''ve sent word to the Champions about what we found, they are sending Lance and Professor Oak to pick up these samples immediately. They should be here in less than 20 minutes." Brandon tells me seriously.


    Considering how far off those two people should be compared to Rota, I realized that ETA didn''t make much sense.


    "How are they getting here that fast? Isn''t the flight here like an hour minimum?" I ask confusedly.


    "Well, those two are the only people on the continent with tamed Dragonite at their call," Brandon answers lightly.


    Aaron''s checkup finishes a few minutes later, and he peeks in to check out the Mew hair samples we are staring at with mildly amused interest. It seemed like nothing out of the ordinary for him, perhaps due to a lack of scientific context regarding the potential capabilities of such samples in the hands of modern-day researchers.


    Almost exactly on the 20-minute mark, a boom-thud reverberates through the air, and I can tell that something super-sonic has just arrived in our airspace.


    Barely half a minute after the sonic boom, a wind-blown Professor Oak steps into the tent, his hair looking like he''d flown through a tornado. He holds a fancy pair of goggles and earmuffs in one hand while carrying two sleek silver mini-suitcases in the other.


    Before even acknowledging anyone in the room, he opens both suitcases and reverently puts two of the Mew hair vials into one case and the last sample into the other case before quickly closing them both. With a heavy sigh of relief, he slumps on the hospital bed next to me.


    "Heya Professor, how''s it going." I ask in a chipper tone, and Oak groans in response


    "I''m getting too old for this kind of thing, Echo," Oak responds before sitting up and taking in the people around him with a slight blush


    "Ah, apologies; I needed to secure the samples as quickly as possible to make sure they did not decay." Oak then turns to Aaron with a bright smile, who is assessing the professor with keen interest


    "And you must be Sir Aaron. It''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Oak states offering a hand to shake.


    Instead of shaking hands conventionally, Oak clasps Aaron''s mid-forearm in a weird version of a handshake, and Aaron nods in apparent approval.


    Another boom-thud shakes the walls of the large tent, and as expected, Lance walks in soon thereafter, looking barely ruffled from the supersonic flight.


    "I''m sorry I won''t be able to stay and talk, but I have a long flight ahead of me, and I would like to use as much daylight as I can while I have it." Lance announces, and Oak nods before getting up and handing Lance the suitcase with the singular sample within.


    After Lance''s quick departure, I ask Oak, "What does he mean by a long flight? Isn''t he going back to Indigo?"


    "No. There''s a bit of political maneuvering we have to dance around for situations like this. I will be taking samples to Hoenn and Indigo while Lance is taking a sample to Unova, these being the three regions that funded and enacted this mission." Oak explains


    Oak stays a bit longer to talk with us and catch his breath before he, too, inevitably departs.


    As night descends, the veterinarians, researchers, and other team members respectfully depart at my request, granting us the peaceful solitude needed for proper rest and relaxation.


    In the days that follow, Aaron finds himself constantly bombarded with questions from the researchers. The intensity of the inquiries escalating to the extent that a group of historians are brought to the camp to ask even more detailed and specific questions.


    It is understandable, considering that this is an exceptional chance to provide insight into a time period with very limited written historical records.


    He is relentlessly questioned, and every ounce of his knowledge is extracted, from the political figures in power at the time to the unexpected uses of Pok¨¦mon in crafting longswords. Aaron responds with unwavering professionalism and poses just as many, if not more, inquiries about the modern world.


    As the camp starts to pack up, Aaron and I hop into Illene''s vehicle for the journey back to Cameron Palace. Aaron can''t tear himself away from the window, his eyes drinking in the ever-changing landscapes as we transition from rugged terrain to smooth, paved roads.


    His attention seems to intensify as he eagerly takes in everything around him, his gaze darting from side to side to capture the passing sights.


    Illene and I share a knowing glance as we watch his reaction. About midway through town, Illene has the driver roll down Aaron''s window, and I raise a questioning eyebrow at her in response.


    "My family has a number of Lucario and exotic Pok¨¦mon in our possession, so it won''t look strange to anyone if they see me with you two. So long as you guys don''t start talking while the window is down, I don''t think we will have any issues, " she says as Aaron unhesitatingly sticks his head out the now open window, visibly sniffing at all the odd scents permeating the air and looking exactly like a barely tamed new capture.


    As we approach the castle, we pass an inviting ice cream shop. Aarons''s keen sense of smell kicks into overdrive, and he leanes out of the window so far that I have to tug him back by his tail. As I roll up the window, Aaron turns to me, and I see his pupils fully dilated.


    "I don''t care what you say; I must have died and gone to the heavenly realm. Nothing so euphoric smelling could ever exist in the mortal plane." Aaron says in a daze, a bit of drool gathering at the corner of his mouth.


    "Be that as it may, please avoid eating chocolate if possible. The last thing we need is to have you die of theobromine poisoning." I say exasperatedly as I think of my own physician''s medical advice.


    "Actually, while we''re on the subject, don''t eat Avocados, cherries, grapes, onions, or garlic either," I say seriously.


    Taking in my no-nonsense tone, Aaron nods, brushing away excess drool with the back of his paw sheepishly.


    "We can get you some specialty lactose-free ice cream after dinner tonight; we have a chef who likes to make some extra for our Lucario sometimes," Illene promises to Aaron''s enthusiastic agreement.


    As we approach the final stretch of road leading to Cameron Palace, Illene asks me a question.


    "Did you know that since the last great war, many of the noble families of various regions have kept in close contact to aid international relations?"


    Blinking at the sudden non sequitur, I respond slowly.


    "Nooo, I wasn''t aware of that. It makes sense, given the governmental sway you royals still have in some places, but why are you telling me this?" I ask slowly


    "When I learned about your existence and did some digging, I discovered that you''d given up one of your children to the Unovan Royal family. I wasn''t allowed to tell them anything due to the league''s non-disclosure agreements, but now that the information ban is set to be lifted soon, I was allowed to contact them." Illene says leadingly


    My heart rate picks up at the mention of my kit. With the league''s insistence on keeping my existence secret and the private nature of Unova''s Royal family''s life, I hadn''t had any news about how my male offspring was doing.


    "I wanted to show you Rota''s appreciation for the dangers you undertook on our behalf and for returning our greatest hero back home to us. They arrived this morning; your kit is with their son N right now, playing with the Riolu pups in the front yard." Illene says, pointing out the front window toward the open grassy lawn in front of the castle''s entrance.


    Just as she said, several Riolu pups and the signature green hair of the Unovan Royals were on the front lawn, guarded at a distance by several private security personnel and an elegant Serperior coiled lazily close by.


    The two green-haired adults sat on a picnic blanket a little distance away from the rambunctious Riolu hoard. Running around and playing with them was a twelve-year-old boy with long green hair and an all too familiar Zorua frolicking at his side.


    Eyes locked on the image, I don''t process the vehicle''s halt until Illene stepes out and gently tugs at my arm, guiding me to where the Royal family are seated. Aaron follows closely behind, a happy glint in his eyes as he watches the Riolu pups playfully wrestle and nip at each other.


    As we neared the Royal family, they immediately notice our approach. It is evident that they had already seen our vehicle arriving. Meanwhile, their child N is completely engrossed in running around with a rope, trying to entice the Riolu to play tug-of-war with him, and has not yet noticed our presence.


    Although I had intended to initiate a conversation with the royal family first, they preempt any conversation when they see my gaze constantly flicking over to my offspring, who is only a few feet away.


    "We know how long it''s been since you''ve seen your child. It would be cruel to force you to wait to make introductions with us." The queen of Unova speaks with understanding kindness.


    "Go on, there is no need for formalities here. Zorua is family, and that makes you family by extension." The King says in agreement while putting his hand out to pet the Serperior that had stealthily slithered behind them, eyeing us with its slitted pupils as if debating whether or not we were a threat.


    With a grateful nod to the couple, I slowly walk toward the distracted younglings, and almost immediately, I see my kit catch my scent on the air and whirl around, dropping the rope he was playing with and causing a Riolu to fall on its butt as all tension from its opponent had been suddenly lost.


    Without hesitation, Zorua bolts toward me, his eyes glinting with excitement, and out of instinct, I go into ''play'' mode. Dropping to all fours, I lead Zorua on a short chase around the grassy yard before eventually letting him catch me. Dramatically dropping to the ground, I lay on my back as Zorua climbs all over me, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he sniffs every inch of me, likely due to all the new smells I''ve been around.


    After that, he rushes to my face nuzzling against my head, and I return the affection by hugging him into the crook of my neck.


    Looking up, I see Prince N standing awkwardly a couple of feet away, looking toward Aaron''s figure. Who had apparently run interference for me by personally distracting the Riolu pups. Currently, he is being piled on by every single one of the remaining Riolu as he lies on the ground, allowing the tiny canines to ineffectually chew on his limbs as he playfully tosses one or two through the air, only for the Riolu to immediately get back up off the ground and jump right back into the pile.


    Aaron seems to be thoroughly enjoying the experience too, based on his happy expression.


    Looking back to N, I kind of feel bad for the boy, who was suddenly left out due to our interruption. So I speak, catching the boy''s attention immediately.


    "Ah, Sir Aaron, how I knew thee. What a shame to lose a hero of his caliber to such a preventable fate." I say with false sorrow even as another two Riolu get gently tossed through the air and Aaron vocally gives one of the Riolu a compliment on its bite strength.


    N''s mouth drops open in shock as he hears each of us speak, but he almost falls over when my words actually get processed, and he starts darting his head from Aaron to me and then back again.


    I think I may have overloaded his brain or something because N seems almost trapped in a loop of looking between us before he shakes his head and, to my surprise, jumps on top of me.


    Before I know it, two tiny hands demandingly shake my shoulders, almost causing me to experience whiplash with the movement.


    "You! How can you-No wait, that can''t be THE Aaron from the stories right?! Mom said that the rangers discovered something crazy at the Tree of Beginning, and we were going to see it, but-but-could it be reincarnation?" The young child seems at a loss for words as he can''t seem to decide what explanations to demand from me.


    It''s impressive that he even knows what reincarnation is, but maybe he had an interest in fantasy novels or something similar.


    "I don''t actually know if Reincarnation or Transmigration would be the more appropriate terminology," I say speculatively while scratching my chin with my free claw. N stares at me in awe, his hands still locked on my shoulders in preparation to shake further answers out of me.


    Off to the side, N''s mother calls out in a reprimanding tone.


    "N Harmonia Gropius! That is not how we treat others! Be nice, or else we will be going home early, do you hear me!" She shouts.


    "YES, MOM!" N yells back, immediately taking his hands off my shoulders


    I grab the back of his shirt and stand up.


    N appears thoroughly chastised as he dangles from his shirt, mumbling an apology. I immediately accept and forgive him and gently place him back on his feet. As I reach to put Zorua in my mane, my little kit suddenly throws on an impressive illusion, perfectly copying N''s form.


    I can tell that my kit is trying to use illusions to avoid being put in my mane, so I look at him with exaggerated suspicion. N visibly stifles a giggle as I look thoughtfully between the two of them.


    "Hmm, that''s a rather good illusion, If I do say so myself. It''s quite impossible tell the difference," I say exaggeratedly, and that causes N to lose composure and laugh aloud.


    As he laughs I give them a shrug, "Ah well, only one thing to do then," I say mischievously before lifting the young child again and putting both of them into my mane.


    N gives a startled yelp before popping his head up and looking out from his slightly higher vantage point than a moment before. Zorua follows his example a second later.


    Usually, a Zorua''s instincts would prevent them from leaving a Zoroark''s mane, almost like a cat when grasped by the scruff of the neck, but N apparently had a strong enough bond with Zorua to cause my kit to ignore those instincts.


    I walk over to try to save Aaron from his fate, but I end up trapped within the puppy pile alongside him. N and Zorua take that distraction to escape my mane, and the next several hours are spent playing with the young ones.


    Finally tiring themselves out, the Riolu lay down on the grass while Zorua, following his instincts, sleepily drags an equally tired N back to my mane as I lay face down on the ground, completely exhausted by the endless energy of today''s youth.


    A small army of caretakers arrives to pick the Riolu pups up and take them to their homes within the castle grounds.


    Illene and the two Unovan Royals greet us with broad smiles as Aaron and I lay flat on the ground, completely exhausted. Aaron had expended all his energy dealing with the energetic Riolu hoard, while I am currently playing the part of a living bed for N and Zorua.


    Normally, it wouldn''t be an issue to move around a bit with kits sleeping in my mane, but N was quite a bit bigger than Zorua kits and might accidentally fall if I moved too much, so I was somewhat trapped here.


    There is a serene peace to the moment, however, that I don''t ever want to leave, but the moment passes when N''s father gently pulls his sleeping son out of my mane, cradling the small child and letting N''s head rest on his shoulder without once waking him up.


    My kit is left where he is at my back, and I silently thank the family for letting me have a few more moments with him as I slowly stand beside them.


    "Alright, everyone. Let''s head inside. Dinner is almost done, and I don''t want the chef''s work to go to waste," Illene says while giving Aaron a helping hand up off the ground.


    Following behind the royals, I finally take in their appearance in full. They don''t fit the typical royal image I had in mind. Instead of frilly suits and dresses, they wore normal, if expensive, clothes.


    The casualness of their speech and displays of honest emotions really make me realize that these are just normal people and not some stereotypical cardboard cutout of what Royalty is portrayed as in the media.


    The decision to entrust them with my kit almost a year and a half ago now feels even more validated. The deep bond between N and Zorua is unmistakable, and I can''t envision a more fitting place for Zorua to have ended up than with a royal family.


    "The palace has simultaneously changed both more and less than I would have imagined," Aaron says, speaking aloud to the group.


    The Unovan royals watch Aaron with fascination at his aura speech but seem to react little otherwise.


    "There have been three or four remodels over the years, but my family has tried its best to maintain historical authenticity as best we can." Illene responds with a shrug.


    "I wish my parents weren''t off on their diplomatic mission to Paldea right now. They could tell you a lot more about all the big renovations that were made. I heard that installing the plumbing took almost a decade because of all the workarounds that had to be done so as not to damage the original infrastructure." Illene says.


    Aaron acknowledges Illene''s words with a nod, but I suspect that he is completely unfamiliar with the concept of plumbing. Waste management had not been one of the modern marvels that I had introduced to him when he first regained consciousness. With his inquisitive nature and access to the internet, I am certain that he will surpass my knowledge on the topic within a week or two.


    Once we reach the dining hall, we see a ludicrously immaculate buffet of food before us. N and Zorua wake at the smell of the food, and N immediately gets two plates of food for both of them before the rest of us have a chance to look over what is available.


    As I enter the hall, I am taken aback by the sheer number of people present. It seems like there is an entire army of staff members lined up on either side of the hall. I later discover that the royal family frequently dined alongside their serving staff.


    While the staff always waited for the royals to be served first, they ate the same food as the rest of us.


    After eating almost literally my entire body weight in food, I ask Illene about the communal eating.


    Only after I had spoken the question aloud did I realize that none of the staff had reacted to a talking Pok¨¦mon being in their presence.


    Had the Royals already informed their staff about us?


    "Well, it would be a bit of a waste not to use the Dining hall without everyone here. Logistically, it works out better this way, too." Illene says.


    "Ah, it''s not just that, dear." N''s mother chimes in. "Fostering environments like this is key to help develop social skills." She says while gesturing toward N, who is at that very moment, talking to several people at another table. At the same time, Zorua sneaks around the table to liberate uneaten scraps of food from the unguarded plates.


    I laugh at the sight and watch as the two continue to work the tables as a team, one distraction and the other the cleanup crew. More than a few people caught onto the trick, but those who notice only smile and pretend not to see what is happening.


    "I''m a little surprised no one here has batted an eye at us," I say, noticing how none of the people had been staring at the talking Pok¨¦mon in the room.


    "The staff have been informed of your situation. All those who work for Rotas royal family are some of the best of the best. They pride themselves on professionalism above and beyond the norm, and in return, we show our appreciation by treating them like extensions of our family." Illene states with more than a little pride in her voice.


    I wondered if this is what it would feel like when the secret of our existence goes public. Would I really be able to go out in a city one day with no illusions and expect to be treated like a normal person?


    I really doubted it, but it is still interesting to witness a room full of people willing to outright disregard my presence; for the first time in a long while, I don''t feel like a monster that needs to hide in the dark.


    "Speaking of Social skills, I have to ask. Are you two planning to do any public speaking? It would definitely help the public come to terms with the new reality of sentient talking Pok¨¦mon being real and not some elaborate hoax." Illene asks us


    "I have no intention of concealing anything if that''s what you''re asking. However, I believe I need to catch up on a lot of things before I feel confident about speaking in public. Context is crucial in such situations, and I''m concerned that I lack sufficient understanding due to my lack of knowledge of this new era," Aaron responds.


    Everyone''s gazes turn toward me.


    "I, uh, don''t suppose you guys could give me some tips in that regard? I honestly think I''d be fine with public speaking, but I can''t really be sure since I''ve never actually had to speak publicly before now." I reply hesitantly


    "We would be happy to help!" All three royals say almost in sync.


    ''It''s almost like they were waiting for me to ask.'' I think with fond amusement.


    With a grin, I can''t help but reply.


    "Wow, is there an echo in here, or is it just me?" I say, thoroughly enjoying the looks I get from all three royals. Maybe having my kit nearby is giving me increased dad humor.


    "It seems you all have much work ahead of you if this is what you are starting with. Best of luck with that." Aaron says in a deadpan.


    My smile only grows wider, and I let out a howl of laughter.


    <hr>


    Bonus Deleted scene: Spikey Anatomy


    Hearing Mew snoring in my mane affirms my decision to follow suit. This whole situation was just too much to handle at the moment, and I feared saying the wrong things to Aaron while half delirious from exhaustion.


    "I apologize, Aaron, but It''s been one hell of a day for me. Would you mind if I take an hour or two to rest before we continue? I promise to answer any questions you have, but I''m just a bit out of it after everything, and I don''t think Mew would appreciate us waking it up." I politely ask the ancient hero while pointing to my back where Mew was sleeping


    Aaron, only having just now realized that Mew was on my person, gave a tired lupine chuckle, his actual vocals being used for once before nodding in understanding.


    ''I understand completely. Mew can be capricious at the best of times, so it''s best to wait for further discussion. I''ll hold you to your word and keep watch while you rest." Aaron replies easily


    He then walks a few steps away to sit in a lotus pose with his eyes closed, likely entering some kind of meditation.


    With a shrug, I lie down and curl up into a loose ball on the ground with a tired sigh. After a few minutes, Gallade tries to lie down next to me, but his pointy elbows and chest crest make it almost impossible to get comfortable.


    Eventually, we managed to get into a comfortable enough position, though Aaron''s smirk told me we probably looked like a ridiculous tangled mess of limbs.


    I wonder if Aaron experienced something similar when his Riolu evolved into a Lucario. Chest spikes are unfortunately not conducive to comfortable sleeping arrangements.


    Somehow, I was able to catch a few hours of sleep, and when I awoke, Mew was gone. The only thing telling me that everything I experienced wasn''t a dream was Gallade beside me and the Lucario off to the side. Aaron had also fallen asleep sometime during this interval, having used the ancient leather bag I found next to Aaron''s crystal tomb as a makeshift pillow.


    Part of me frowned at the priceless artifact being used like that but then I realized that it was his bag, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with it.

 Omake: Revenge of the Undying (Halloween Special)

    "You fucking idiot, we were supposed to catch this thing, not kill it!" The first voice yells.


    Somehow, I can still hear the words of my two would-be murderers clearly.


    "How is it my fault? I didn''t even see where it was; I just told Gliscor to stab; I didn''t actually think we''d managed to hit it, much less put a hole in its chest. What the hell are we supposed to do now?"


    "Damn it, shit, all right, let''s just wrap this thing up and toss it in the back of the truck. Maybe we won''t get our shit kicked in by the bosses if we bring the body." The second says sounding hopeful.


    Such disregard for what they did to me! ¨C fury burns through the dying embers of my twin souls.


    A feeling of motion passes through my useless, cooling corpse as they begin to move me.


    This wasn''t the first time I experienced death though. Dustin the Ranger, whose memories and soul I now shared, remembered it quite well. It gave us perspective on what was possible and how much influence a dead soul could exert on a body, especially if both souls agreed on the goal ¨C REVENGE.


    I wouldn''t be letting my murderers get away with what they had done. THEY WOULD PAY!


    As the two rocket grunts pull at my dead limbs, intent on dragging me away, I twine my will with Dustin''s acting in concert, reentering our broken vessel together and pulling the muscles like strings on a marionette.


    Our claw moves with greater speed than intended, and we manage to slash at the first grunt''s face, causing a startled cry of pain and leaving a lovely splash of red on the condemned man''s face.


    Trying to use the same claw to slash at the other grunt, something twists wrong, and it''s only then that we realize that we''ve pulled our muscles in slightly the wrong direction; our arm now dangling oddly. The conflicting directions we''ve pulled the limb in showcase our bones barely being contained by our overstretched skin.


    I''d have to be a bit more careful; this new situation is not as intuitively easy as we had imagined.


    <em style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Roboto, Oxygen, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Fira Sans", "Droid Sans", sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: none">Wait, is it I or we? There are two souls in here, but still, only a singular will behind both. Ah, well, questions for later.


    The two men shriek and back away a few paces, the one man clutching his bleeding face and the other looking on at us in horror as we slowly figure out how to put our arm back into proper alignment. Sick crackling pops echo out as we misplace a few tendons before getting everything comfortably in place again.


    While we are at it, the wound in our heart forces itself closed, blood allowing to be pumped once again into the still relatively fresh tissue.


    <em style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Roboto, Oxygen, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Fira Sans", "Droid Sans", sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: none">I only died a few minutes ago; it could''ve been much worse. I think optimistically to myself.


    A groan of pain escapes us as we reorient to our nervous system again, feeling all the aches and pains associated with having twisted our body up pretty badly.


    Still, we push aside the fog of pain and ignore the severely damaged neural tissue in our skull. This fact would probably have been a screaming red flag if we were not newly undead. <em style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Roboto, Oxygen, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Fira Sans", "Droid Sans", sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: none">Ah, who needs a working brain anyway!


    It takes a lot of mental effort to run our bodies like this, but luckily, two of us are in here, making the work manageable. It''s also quite comforting knowing that a friend and ally is as close as your own heartbeat. Which was Dustin, and which was Zoroarak? I don''t care; all that matters is that we are together and we will get what is owed to us.


    Standing up fully and jerkily twisting around our eyes meet those of the two men, it probably appears as if we are a demon taking possession of a corpse. To be fair to the Rockets, this is a very accurate summation, and we would find that description very flattering.


    We grin a bloody, too-wide grin at them, stretching our facial muscles to their limits and Beyond to create a downright ghastly facsimile of joy.


    "Did you really think it would be that easy? That you could just kill me and walk away scott-free?" My raspy growl, deeper than ever, drops from my mangled mouth like a tombstone falling into an open grave.


    They stand there completely in shock, and even the bleeding face of the one doesn''t hinder their facial expressions from growing with terror.


    "Well, It''s been quite a while since I''ve partaken in human flesh, and I''m feeling rather peckish after all this <em style="box-sizing: border-box">excitement." I say before lunging forward.


    Two screams and then silence.


    Once I''m alone, I take closer stock of my body, making sure that there are no further wounds that I need to take care of. Heart still forcefully pumping in my chest, I can tell that most of the functions of my body will return to normal eventually; but for the time being, everything has to be run in ''manual mode'' which is a bit annoying.


    Slowly hobbling to a nearby creek, I go to take a drink from the water but pause as I realize that my coloration has changed drastically from what I remember. In contrast to my previously dark fur, everything is all white and red. Strange.


    Idly, I realize that my dark-type Aura has shifted over to a more ethereal Ghost-type. Doubly strange.


    I considered the possibility that this is some obscure evolutionary path for my species, but in either case, I simply chuckle, realizing that I''ve escaped true death by a hairsbreadth with sheer stubbornness.


    Twin souls humming in contentment a smile stretches onto my watery reflection''s visage.


    "Oh, Richard is going to get a kick out of this." I rasp with a chuckle to myself.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

 Chapter 10: Hello World

    Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else''s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. -Oscar Wilde


    <hr>


    "If there is one thing I regret about joining the League, it''s the damn paperwork." I groan, slumping face-first onto the stack of papers.


    Aaron, having heard my complaints for the fifth time within just the last hour, barely glances up from his encyclopedia in acknowledgment before returning his gaze downward, ignoring me. Huffing in annoyance, I idly glance around the Cameron royal library, noting the rows of ancient-looking books stacked on the myriad wooden shelves.


    Scattered about the cavernous room, various priceless artifacts sit on display cases, adding some color and life to the wall-to-wall beige-colored bookshelves. In the corner closest to our table a glass case full of broken and fractured time flowers rests on display, its recorded contents hopelessly lost and fragmented.


    Honestly, it''s a beautiful piece of art all by itself. I wonder if they added the display as a thought provoker about how easily knowledge can and had been lost by the civilizations that came before us.


    Pushing away the idle thoughts on decor choices and sighing despondently, I gather the will to continue filling out my specialized citizenship forms.


    These documents are some of the last steps of gaining a true legal identity, and they would be needed if I ever wanted to open a bank account or own private property.


    Normally, I wouldn''t care about the minutiae of all this stuff, but the league promised a substantial lump sum of backpay for the time I spent in captivity¡­so here I am, stuck in bureaucratic hell. At this point, I am debating whether all this work will be worth the money; but now that I''ve spent so much time on it, it feels like it would have been an even bigger waste if I don''t complete the forms.


    "Damn sunk cost fallacy," I mutter angrily at the pile of uncompleted forms.


    What''s worse is that I needed this stuff done before my reveal, so I can''t really put it off to another day.


    It''s doubly annoying because half of the form entry fields are impossible for me to answer! What am I even supposed to put for my hometown of origin? I hatched in interregional wilderness, for Arceus''s sake!


    Hoping to make progress by skipping that form, I pick up another random incomplete form and reluctantly drag it to eye level. I nearly crumple the thing into a ball when I see several sections asking for my date of birth.


    Not even the scientists know exactly how old I am, and it''s not like I had any reason to count the seasons back when I was wild. They gave me general estimates on my age, but nothing I could put on these stupid papers and have it be legally binding.


    ''What idiot bureaucrat thought I should even attempt to complete these forms?! Yes, I totally know how to answer that because I obviously must have had a calendar while living in a den under a tree for half my life!'' I think, growling low under my breath.


    "You don''t seem to be making much progress. Perhaps you should take a break and return to it later." Aaron replies without looking up, flicking an aura-infused paw out to carefully turn the page of his book nonchalantly.


    Adhering the delicate page to his paw like that with Aura alone would have been a nightmarishly complex task worth praise for anyone else, but Aaron performed the action without the slightest hint of difficulty or strain.


    "Yeah, that''s probably a good idea." I sigh, pushing the stack of papers to the side.


    Time for a well-earned break after having done literally nothing for an hour. Reaching under the desk, I grab my league-issued laptop from its carrying bag and set it in the cleared space before me.


    I received the fancy device on my first few days staying here at Cameron Palace, and it is far superior to anything the labs had previously budgeted for me.


    Desperate for any kind of distraction, I accidentally misclick on the wrong search engine icon. I am met with the laptop''s default Pokesplorer search engine instead of my preferred Foxfire browser. Pokesplorer is fine; honestly, it''s just that it has this annoying feature where multiple news articles cover most of the front page. But I am looking for distractions anyway, so this was fine.


    Most of the articles are clickbait nonsense of the highest order, but one of the headlines actually grabs my full attention.


    <u>''New Discoveries at The Tree of Beginning? What is the league trying to hide?''</u> The title reads.


    Curiously, I click the article to see what the public has managed to uncover about last month''s operation.


    Nothing has been officially released about the mission yet, so this article is more than a bit surprising.


    Skimming through the article, I almost laugh at the grainy image of my illusionary banner at the top of the article, the same one that had read ''Point radio dish here for report,'' which I''d conjured while trying to contact base camp midway through the mission.


    Apparently, some random civilian in Rota had a timelapse camera pointed at the Tree of Beginning, and had recently spotted my tiny banner while reviewing his archived recordings.


    When confronted with the footage, league representatives only responded by saying that the operation was ''still in a delicate state'' and that ''more information would become available at a later date''. Honestly, that vague answer was probably worse than if the league had just made no statement at all.


    The public is understandably intrigued by any discovery made within the historically impenetrable exclusion zone, especially now that it is evident that the league is intentionally withholding information.


    Browsing through, I find some related forum posts that have popped up in the wake of this news article being published. Funnily enough, some people are guessing that it probably involves Sir Aaron''s remains and that the league was giving Rota time to make a big announcement or throw a parade or something along those lines.


    ''Giving credit where it''s due, they''re not wrong about the Aaron bit. Maybe Rota will even throw a parade in his honor.'' I think with idle amusement.


    Our reveal isn''t scheduled until later in the month, primarily because the league is progressing at a snail''s pace and not because Aaron and I aren''t ready. Still, if the public is already starting to dig into things, it might be better for Aaron and I to reveal ourselves earlier to better act as a smokescreen for the real secrets the league wanted to keep. Like their possession of Mew DNA.


    I imagine the reveal of two sapient Pok¨¦mon working for and alongside the league would probably be one hell of a distraction, all things considered.


    Opening up the secure league communications channel on the laptop, I send a few messages to some people high up in ranger command, linking the article I''d found and basically stating that Aaron and I are willing to reveal early if necessary.


    I receive a response almost immediately stating that high-level meetings are already underway to discuss the topic and that they would get back to us later in the day.


    "Looks like our public reveal might be coming up a bit sooner than anticipated. Are you ready to rejoin the world, oh glorious hero of ancient times." I say jovially to Aaron.


    Huffing in exasperation Aaron bookmarks his page before closing the book, giving me a deadpan stare.


    "My ability to navigate political situations was never in question, Echo. The people of this era are not so different in personality from those who lived in my time, and I will remind you that I headed an order whose influence spanned multiple kingdoms. You, on the other hand, should not be allowed anywhere near a news outlet." Aarons says half-seriously.


    Looking at him askance, I reply, "What? I am a perfectly personable individual of refined character. I will not sit here and take such slander!" Standing up from my seat, I start stretching out my tired legs. "Ah, much better, you may continue the slander now." I continue flippantly.


    Putting a paw to his forehead in exasperation, Aaron begins again.


    "Our reveal will have far-reaching consequences across the entirety of human society; you could at least pretend to acknowledge the significance of what we will be doing. Have you even spoken to Richard recently about the experiments trying to replicate what we are? It''s only a matter of time before it reaches the public and people start trying things on their own, and we both know how likely it is for them to succeed without a literal mythical Pok¨¦mon acting as a conduit." Aaron asks in mild annoyance.


    "I did hear about that, but I''d prefer not acknowledging it." I say uncomfortably.


    So far, those experiments were being conducted by old idiotic aristocrats who got their hands on high-level league intel early. The fools were looking to cheat death, but nothing had been successful as of yet, and the rewards for their efforts had been severe brain damage or, in a few cases, outright death.


    The current laws on aura experimentation only precluded experiments on others, not on yourself, so the league couldn''t even crack down to dissuade others from trying. It''s also likely that the league wanted someone to get lucky and share the knowledge after the fact, but at this point, it didn''t seem likely to happen anytime soon.


    Especially after that one idiot tried to ''replicate'' my encounter with Dustin exactly, and the grim crime scene report after the fact was not a pretty sight.


    "I should never have introduced you to Richard. You both are way too serious for your own good." I mutter.


    "That wasn''t a yes." Aaron states leadingly


    "Yes, I''ve talked to him a bit about it. He''s one of the best aura physicists in the world, and even he doesn''t fully understand how we are as we are. His best guess is that Kirlia acted as a psychic bridge for my soul through the capture styler, but even that''s just speculation after hearing about what Mew did for you. That entire field of study is effectively taboo anyway. If someone succeeds, great, but it''s not my job to worry about the future of humanity as a species." I wave dismissively.


    Deciding to switch the subject away to something less morbid, I ask Aaron a question.


    "What are you going to do after the reveal anyway? I know you don''t intend to join the league officially but¡­"


    Relaxing in his chair, Aaron contemplates the question a bit before responding.


    "I think I will take up a position as a history teacher at one of Kanto''s universities. Oak presented the opportunity to me, and I have to say I''m very tempted. Not only at the prospect of being able to teach and learn from the next generation but also in being given research funding and personnel so that I can explore all the possibilities aura has yet to give." Aaron says finally.


    That answer was not what I expected of the returned hero. My assumptions had always envisioned him fighting crime or dealing with terrorist organizations like some comic-book superhero.


    "Really? Well, I suppose you would be pretty good at teaching history, especially considering you''ve lived through some pretty important events. Why go that route specifically, though?" I ask.


    Looking almost offended, Aaron responds passionately before transitioning to a more wistful cadence near the end. "I spent so much of my previous life fighting in pointless wars when all I ever desired was peace. Near the end, I promised myself that if things ever settled down between Rota and its neighbors, I''d become a teacher or a traveling monk. It may be selfish of me to choose such a path, but I feel it is important to keep one''s promises, especially if it is to oneself."


    "Well, you won''t find me complaining about your choice; you deserve some peace after all you did. Plus, I don''t think a monk''s robes would suit you," I say, throwing a brief Illusion over Aaron to confirm that, yes, the color clash of typical monk attire just didn''t suit his blue/black fur.


    "You realize the university will probably have to implement a lottery system though, right? I can only imagine how many people will want to attend one of your lectures. Also, I hope this doesn''t mean you''ll be skipping out on our weekly training sessions; I''m this close to mildly inconveniencing you." I say, pinching my claws together to show how close I thought I was.


    Aaron is by far the scariest singular combatant I have ever faced, and his lessons on aura control have skyrocketed my own battle prowess by orders of magnitude. His mastery was already worthy of legend as a human, and now that he is sharing a body with his Lucario, he might as well be a legendary for how untouchable he is in combat.


    Now, the man can tank impossibly strong attacks with a single aura-infused paw and fire aura spheres powerful enough to down even the strongest flying types in a single hit. The only time he ever showed any strain in a fight had been a sparring match between him and Cynthia, and after that, Illene had permanently banned them both from Cameron Palace''s battlegrounds because of how much damage they''d caused.


    Aaron''s match against Cythia''s team had ended in a draw, and even then, both implied after the fact that they hadn''t even been giving it their all.


    "That''s a rather generous estimation of yourself, but yes, I will endeavor to keep my schedule open for you. Maybe one day you''ll be good enough to give me a real challenge; but by current estimation, that may take several hundred years, give or take." Aaron responds glibly.


    "You wouldn''t be so high and mighty if you didn''t have type advantage on your side." I mutter under my breath.


    Aaron, hearing my words, lets a glint of challenge enter his red eyes.


    I''d regret those words during our next sparring match when he proceeded to casually beat me into the ground using only dark-type attacks.


    <hr>


    Today is finally the day of the big reveal.


    It''s happening at Kanto''s interregional scientific center, a venue just big enough for a couple hundred people to attend, with plenty of live cameras, reporters, and people of influence stacked in the auditorium. This all being broadcast live to the world. Totally no pressure at all.


    I think my nerves are finally catching up to me when I sneak a nervous peek at the almost-filled rows of seating and see just how many people are here.


    There are literally no vacant seats. Only Professor Oak, Princess Illene, and Aaron''s presence next to me backstage helps keep me from panicking too much.


    All too soon, I would have to take to the stage; thankfully though, I wouldn''t be doing this alone.


    "It''s almost time. Are you two ready?" Oak asks us calmly as if what we were about to announce wouldn''t flip society on its head.


    His easygoing attitude does help, though, as I take a deep, calming breath and nod at the same time Aaron does.


    Taking out my personal Pokeball from around my neck, I unclip it and hand it over to Oak''s waiting hand. Reaching behind my back, I also grab both Gallade and Rotoms Pokeballs and pass them over to Illene, who is here backstage specifically for this reason.


    I didn''t trust my team with anyone else, but I couldn''t carry them with me because Oak would be entering the stage with both Aaron and I in his pockets.


    The next few minutes will be a carefully orchestrated piece of theater that will hopefully mitigate some of the shock of our reveal to the world. Oak is one of the most trusted and sociologically influential individuals in the world, so having him visibly in possession of our Pokeballs and releasing us on stage would no doubt help form subconscious opinions of us.


    Aaron beside me takes out his own customized Pokeball and hands it to Oak, the transparent time flower shell gleaming under the fluorescent lights as it changes hands. I idly wonder how much it had cost Illene to get that thing commissioned, but I ignore the thought as our cue is called from the center stage a few feet away to our right.


    With a quick gesture, Oak points both spheres at our bodies and returns both of us. The sensation of losing physicality actually helps to ease my nervousness and center my thoughts.


    Putting us away in his pockets, Oak walks onto the stage with the ease of someone who has spoken on a world stage a thousand times previously. Finally reaching the center podium, Oak speaks, his voice resonating in the room as speakers amplify his calm dulcet tones.


    "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is an honor to be presenting here before you once again. No doubt you''ve all heard rumors that the Pok¨¦mon league has been deliberately hiding important discoveries made last month in the Tree of Beginning." Oak intones the audience.


    A low murmur of excitement and worry sweeps through the audience for half a minute before Oak raises his hands, instantly silencing the chatter.


    "I understand that some may find this revelation distressing as the league prides itself in its transparency. Today, I will shed light on how the mission was conducted and what was found within the notorious exclusion zone."


    Oak glances about the auditorium, making eye contact with a few key people, emphasizing his seriousness and allowing no one to doubt his next words.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "For those familiar with the exclusion zone, you may be wondering how such a mission could even be conducted in the first place. Well, this endeavor was only possible through the efforts of a ranger whose existence has been classified at the highest levels up to this point. As for why all this secrecy was necessary, I think it will become self-evident once I introduce you to him."


    Like a midwestern quickdraw, Oak draws my Pokeball from his pocket, launching my ball directly to his right, releasing me in a burst of white light.


    Reforming from pure energy in less than a second, I open my eyes to gaze at the surprised audience. Slowly, a toothy smile spreads across my face as I take in their shocked faces. No one had expected Oak to suddenly release a Pok¨¦mon onto the stage, but I can already see some quick-witted individuals in the audience putting the pieces together.


    In the back rows, several mounted TV cameras rotate slightly to focus their attention directly on me. Adjusting my pristine ranger uniform with clawed hands, I make sure I am as presentable as possible while also giving off easy confidence at all the new attention on me.


    Acting is practically part of my genes; after all, no one would ever be able to tell how much adrenaline is in my veins.


    Thankfully, the front rows are filled with several familiar faces, and my smile becomes more genuine when I see Richard and other Site 6 staff watching on with encouragement.


    Without any real need for a microphone to amplify my speech, I perform my best ''butler bow'' and speak to the whole room. My deep voice carrying easily in the space and causing a few people to flinch at my loud, inhuman baritone.


    "Hello World! My name is Echo. It is a genuine pleasure to be here today with you all!" I say enthusiastically, deciding on the spot to completely ignore the pre-written speech the league had given me.


    Some people seem terrified by my voice, but my last-second script deviation is immediately rewarded when I see Richard visibly facepalming and groaning out loud.


    I wasn''t sure if he''d get the programming reference from my first two words, but hedging my bets on Richards''s nerdiness had yet to fail me. It seems even in front of a live audience, I can''t help myself.


    Sighing just loud enough not to be heard on the mic, Professor Oak unexpectedly reaches over and scratches at the back of my head, smoothly smothering the follow-up off-script things I''d been about to say.


    The gentle hands are too much to resist, and I find myself silenced as I lean into the scritches.


    "Echo here is a unique example of a recently rediscovered species called Zoroark. A species you might have seen in various nature documentaries. Known for extraordinary illusion crafting and mimicry, this species can find themselves hidden in any number of ecological habitats. What sets Echo apart from his counterparts, though, is that he is the first documented instance of true sapience in a Pok¨¦mon."


    This revelation starts the crowd going, this time with multiple people shouting questions at the professor. Completely ignoring them all, Oak continues speaking, forcing the questions to die down.


    "I know you all are curious about Echo''s case; suffice it to say that he developed human-level cognitive abilities from an unfortunate accident with a Unovan scout ranger; the specific details of this event will be shared publicly after this conference is over, of course. However, Echo''s case is not why we are here. Let me assure you what was found in the Tree of Beginning will interest you all just as much if not more than Echo''s existence."


    Finally, stopping his petting, Oak allows me to speak again.


    Slightly embarrassed and only now realizing that he had pet me just to shut me up, I clear my throat and watch for the audience''s reaction. Now that I see how eager and full of wonder their gazes are, I begin questioning if Oak hadn''t planned that all along to soften the fear the audience would feel at hearing my voice for the first time.


    It takes a long moment for the audience to settle down fully. I patiently wait by Oak''s side, my Pokeball still visibly in his grasp, unconsciously imprinting the audience with a false impression that I was under his complete control.


    The symbology of the Pokeball all but ingrained into the modern zeitgeist; when wielded by one of the greatest heroes of the modern era, it allowed the people present to more easily come to terms with the reality of the situation.


    "I understand that my existence is a shocking one and probably not what you were expecting when asked to attend this event, but what I found in the Tree of Beginning warrants nothing less than revealing myself to the world," I say, motioning back to a projector screen pointed at the back of the stage''s wall.


    At my hand motion, the projector begins playing, and the overhead lights dim to allow a better view of the footage from Rotom''s mission recordings.


    A heavily-edited summary reel plays some of the more interesting findings until, at last, the crystal heart at the center of the Tree of Beginning is revealed in all its majesty.


    "When the Princess of Rota asked me to take a memorial piece to Aarons''s final resting place, I had not actually expected to find him. Surely, after all that time, his remains would be little more than dust."


    The footage zooms in and focuses on the clear image of Sir Aaron, the aura guardian of Legend, sitting with a blank, almost wistful visage in his timeless crystal tomb. Subtle music plays along with the footage, emphasizing the wonder I''d felt in that moment.


    "Yet there he was, perfectly preserved." I say, allowing the awe I felt to reach my voice.


    Then the footage changes, and the audience, almost in sync, gasps as the telltale light of a released Pok¨¦mon fills the screen, obviously originating from Aarons''s signature staff.


    Without saying anything my ''fight'' with Lucario plays without commentary, the visuals coming from Rotoms perspective as it intercepts the first deadly aura sphere. Only a few moments later, a flash of red from Lucario''s eyes signifies the last few moments of recorded footage as Lucario strikes down Rotoms drone with a foresight-enhanced aura sphere.


    Just as the footage cuts off, I cast a wide Illusion onto the stage. Manifesting as if from a dream, I perfectly recreate the scene from the Tree of Beginning from memory. The brutal fight almost perfectly recreated from memory for the whole world to see.


    Everything is how it happened until I get to the part where Gallade''s evolution occurs; I freeze the illusions in place as if pausing a movie.


    "At this point, some of you may be wondering how it was possible for Aaron''s Lucario to remain in stasis for so long without a power source, but the answer is this: Aaron''s aura remained within the Tree of Beginning, his lingering soul preserving his companion''s life through all that intervening time." As if in slow-mo, the Illusion plays again with only slight modification this time.


    "And the reason I know this to be the case..."


    Instead of showing Mews entrance, I project an edited version of events. One where the light coming from the crystal passes through Aarons''s crystal resting place, landing on Lucario''s back as he kneels down on the ground just as he had after Mews aura transfer.


    "-is because he told me himself." I finish, dissipating my illusionary projections while at the same time, Oak pulls out the crystalline Pokeball from his left pocket, releasing Aaron at his side.


    Dressed similarly to his old guardian clothes, Aaron strikes an impressive figure, even though he is slightly shorter than Oak. Lucario''s confident posture makes him seem taller than he is.


    Stepping aside, Oak allows Aaron to use the microphone¡ªthe audience, still in shock, only a hair''s breadth away from falling into chaos.


    "Good afternoon all, my name is Aaron of Rota and I have it on good authority that you all might have a few questions for me," Aaron says wryly, his voice echoing melodiously from how the speakers projected his aura speech. Almost completely opposite of my own monstrous undertones, his voice reverberates like a one-man choir.


    Finally, the last string of sanity holding the audience back snaps, and the room becomes anarchy. People shout over each other, trying to ask their questions and be heard over the crowd''s roar.


    At this point, any resemblance to a structured conference devolves; half the people in attendance are no longer sitting in their seats and I think a fair number of people exited the room for fear of being trampled by the news reporters.


    Somehow, in the chaos, the mob discovers that there are people in the audience who were ''in the know''. This is probably due to some poor fool from site 6 trying to answer one of the questions being bombarded at the main stage.


    Seeing that no progress is being made, I take the initiative and conjure large illusionary banners above each of our heads. Over Oak, the illusion says ''Nerd questions here''; over Aaron, it says ''Hero worship and fan questions here'', and above myself, I have the illusions spell out ''Miscellaneous''.


    Multiple groups of people start forming clusters, gravitating toward the people best suited to answering their questions. The cameras in the back would still capture most of our conversations, and I''m sure the news networks are having a panic attack trying to figure out where to direct their attention.


    The scientific-minded audience members cluster in the front around the site 6 researchers and Professor Oak.


    Historians and hero worshippers gather to the left, where Aaron answers his own questions with calm, collected certainty.


    To my delight, my plan funnels all the weirdos, eccentrics, and thrill seekers to the right, where I take a seat on the edge of the stage, kicking my feet out like a child at a picnic table.


    We get through the expected questions first, like how I became sapient, but per the league''s plan, I gloss over the details, referencing that the full story of my case would be released after the conference.


    This would hopefully allow the public to form a better first impression of me before reading about my gruesome story on how I''d gained sapience.


    Eventually, their questions start diverting to more entertaining subjects as I''d hoped.


    "How well do you understand other Pok¨¦mon? Like is there a Pok¨¦mon language or anything like that? Do you feel lonely now that you are out of the wild and away from others of your kind?" One person asks me while jotting down notes on a pad of notepad.


    "I wouldn''t say there is a language per se, but I do have an instinctive grasp of how other Pok¨¦mon are feeling and how to act around them." I say taking a moment to ponder the question.


    I haven''t actually had all that many interactions with wild pokemon but I did get surprisingly accurate impressions from the Syther and Altaria at the Tree of Beginning.


    "Now that I think about it, I don''t know whether that''s part of my Zoroark mimicry instincts or some empathy ability from my Lucario ancestry. As for loneliness, I haven''t really felt much of that; Zoroark are fairly solitary outside of small family packs and I''ve been lucky enough to be surrounded by good people like Professor Oak, Princess Illene, and a few of the researchers at a scientific research institute."


    Gesturing for the next person to ask their questions, I sit back and relax as the weirdly dressed man asks his question.


    "Yes, Echo is it? I work for Veryberry Juice Incorporated. May I ask what types of foods you prefer? Is it all pokechow or do you eat human foods as well? If so, could you elaborate which foods you think are the tastiest?" The man in the bright purple outfit asks.


    "Oh, that''s an easy one. Basically, anything from Kanto Fried Chicken. It''s the only place I can order meat by the bucket, and no one blinks an eye. I''ve tried a bunch of pokechows brands too, but I''m waiting for endorsement deal offers before I give my, let''s say, informed opinion." I say instantly. Hopefully, that response will also prevent some of the inevitable endorsement deal offers.


    No one would trust that I actually think the product is good and just assume I am saying stuff just for the pay. Hopefully, that would discourage marketers from pestering me needlessly.


    Pointing to the next person, I wave at them to ask their question.


    "How can I tell if my friends and family aren''t Zoroark or Zorua in disguise?" The person asks nervously.


    The question almost makes me want to laugh, but the seriousness and fear in their eyes has me taking the question seriously.


    "One, they would likely have a voice like mine. Our vocals aren''t meant for speaking human, and it took me a lot of practice to sound even this good. Second, Zoroarks'' illusions are fairly fragile. If you''ve ever enthusiastically high-fived someone, it''s likely they aren''t a Zoroark." I say, but the same person asks another question before I can call on someone else.


    "How does it feel to use a Pok¨¦mon move?" They ask quickly.


    "I don''t know how to answer that. It would be like explaining color to a blind person." I answer just as quickly, trying to avoid further questions from the same person but failing to call on another before they rapid-fire more inquiries.


    In response, I start answering their questions as quickly as possible, trying to see just how many they''d had ready.


    "Do you think you''d be able to become a trainer yourself?"


    "Yes, since I''m already one, and I have two Pok¨¦mon on my team." I rapidly reply, enjoying how everyone else looked back and forth between us like the audience of a tennis game.


    "Is it comfortable inside a Pokeball?"


    "Yup, I''ve used that fact to sleep through a plane ride before; much better than the regular seating."


    "Where and how can I catch a Zorua?"


    "Usually in deep forested areas, although I wouldn''t recommend trying; Zorua generally sticks around their parents until it''s time to evolve, and the parents can get touchy when their kits are threatened," I say seriously, trying to convince them that that was a bad idea.


    They jump to their next question without even pausing at my serious tone.


    "What''s it like working as a ranger when you are a Pok¨¦mon?"


    "It''s been fun so far. I actually haven''t done much ranging, funnily enough. Hopefully, that changes soon now that I''m a public facing figure."


    "Who''s the coolest human you know?"


    "Hmm, that guy over there." I say, pointing at a seemingly random audience member but knowing that I was pointing directly at Richard from my slight vantage point. Everyone looks in that direction in confusion, and I use the pause to move on to other people''s questions.


    "Alright, I think it''s time to give someone else a chance to ask some questions. You in the back, what you got for me?" I ask, pointing to a slightly blushing middle-aged woman in the back with her hand raised.


    "Um, I wanted to know if you are single or in a relationship with anyone." She asks with a straight face.


    I stare for a few seconds, and in my momentary pause other people in the crowd start looking in her direction. I can see that the people sitting next to her look relieved, so maybe she had just drawn the short straw between her little group.


    Brave women, she''d probably catch no end of grief just for having asked the question. She blushes further but holds eye contact with me.


    "I''m single but recently widowed. I''m currently not looking for a relationship," I say before eyeing a conveniently placed clock mounted on the far wall, sighing in relief.


    "Sorry, all, it looks like we are reaching the end of our time, so that''s the last question I''ll be taking today. Thank you all for asking your questions; I appreciate you coming over here to talk with me." I say, standing up and walking over to the central podium where Oak and Aaron are wrapping up their final questions.


    Before Aaron can step away one final question is called out louder than the rest from someone hidden in the back of the audience.


    "Since you guys are both canines, do you guys ever feel the need to sniff each other''s butts?"


    The question catches Aaron so off guard that his composure fully breaks, jaw slack at the absurdity of the question.


    I start laughing uncontrollably as people start looking around at each other trying to see who asked the question. Instead of letting Aaron diffuse the situation I call out to him.


    "What do you say Aaron, bet you ten pokedollars I can guess what you had for breakfast yesterday!"


    Looking at me to see how serious I am, Aaron gauges my impulsive recklessness and immediately bolts to Professor Oak, recalling himself to the Pokeball still held in the professor''s hand.


    Laughing a bit more, I call out to the audience. "Thank you, random person, you just made my day with that question. I think Aarons''s reactions tell you all you need to know, so no; we don''t feel the need to sniff each other''s butts." I say before nodding to Oak to return me to my Pokeball.


    Finally, back in comfort, I relax and enjoy listening to Oak finish out the conference, thanking people for attending.


    All in all, it went better than expected. Hopefully, people will remember these moments and not act fearfully around me once they know my full story.


    Either way, I''m eager to finally be able to do some real ranger work, whether the public is ready for me or not.

 Slice of Life Snippet 1: The Nugget Incident

    <div>


    "Go often to the house of thy friend, for weeds choke the unused path." - Ralph Waldo Emerson


    ________


    Is it wrong that I''m a bit jealous of Aaron now that our reveal has happened?


    Ever since that inaugural conference, his popularity has soared to new heights, captivating audiences far and wide. Not a single day goes by without him appearing on a talk show or being featured in news broadcasts, where his insights and charisma continue to draw attention.


    The thing is, when you can teleport anywhere in the world via the GTS, you can appear on half a dozen talk shows and still make several appearances at children''s hospitals, all on the same day.


    Given how monumental the whole ''returned hero'' thing is, I completely understand the fervor, but it still feels unfair that I''ve been temporarily prohibited from taking interviews just because I went ''off script'' one time!


    Still, it''s not like I''m complaining. Stepping back into the field has been nothing short of exhilarating. Each day brings the thrill of exploring new regions and venturing into deep, untamed wilderness¡ªsome places that humanity may have never set foot in before.


    Much of my time is spent surveying breathtaking landscapes, but I also get to do other things, like planting berry bushes in strategic zones in the deep wilderness.


    One of the first crucial steps in successfully taming a wild area is ensuring that the native Pok¨¦mon are well-fed, which in turn makes them less aggressive. To achieve this, the league has me plant genetically enhanced berries that are designed to flourish and yield multiple harvests each day.


    I''m very good at identifying the prime locations where wild Pok¨¦mon are most likely to search for food, creating a perfect synergy between my cultivation efforts and their natural foraging behaviors.


    By strategically placing these berry plants, the hope is to create a tame zone that promotes tranquility among the local Pok¨¦mon populations. This would allow humanity to come in and capture a greater diversity of species for their trainers and, depending on the area, push the carefully managed zones of human civilization out further.


    When I return from these first-ranging expeditions, I check in to see how my kits are doing with the Unovan Royals and at Oak''s lab.


    Seeing them happy and well-fed always reassures me that I made the right decision all that time ago. Amidst the joy of these visits, I also immerse myself in a sea of legal documents that the league and Oak regularly provide me with.


    It''s a constant battle that I have to keep on top of. It''s an ever-changing complex web of legal loopholes that require my constant attention, particularly in relation to safety standards and the rights of Pok¨¦mon.


    The intricacies of this legal landscape can be more than a bit bewildering, as each region has its own unique set of laws that can occasionally clash with the broader regulations established by the League. Understanding these discrepancies is crucial, as they can significantly impact my life if I''m not careful.


    No matter what I do, I have to tread carefully to ensure I''m not inadvertently breaking any laws simply by living my life. It''s also somewhat fascinating to dive into the legal nuances surrounding certain regulations such as those that were implemented specifically to thwart wealthy individuals from designating their Pok¨¦mon as the exclusive heirs to their multi-million pok¨¦dollar fortunes in their wills.


    Among the usual paperwork, I sort through bank notices that denote my steadily rising bank account balances. The back pay from my time in captivity is no joke, and now, my new ranger position offers a solid steady income. Bolstered by hazard pay for working in the unpredictable wilderness, I am starting to make bank!


    The only issue now is that I am still trying to figure out what to do with my money. I don''t really have any significant wants and most of my needs are already being taken care of.


    Initially, I find myself spending money on novelty battle items, drawn in by their unique designs and the power boosts they promised. However, my excitement quickly fades when I realize just how easily the fragile trinkets break in actual combat. Their lack of durability morphed my enthusiasm into disappointment.


    My big spending has secondary unintended consequences, however. The ad algorithms on the online marketplaces notice my spending habits because suddenly, my browser is flooded with an array of dazzling and enticing objects, each one vying for my attention and beckoning me to part with my hard-earned money.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    When the online shop presents me with an immaculate gold nugget on sale, I immediately snap up the deal but once I actually get my claws on it, I''m not sure what to do with it.


    At first, I use it as a sort of paperweight, but an idle thought makes me wonder: Didn''t people used to take a bite of the metal to check its purity? Is gold really that soft?


    Driven by an insatiable curiosity, I cautiously sink my teeth into the imposing gold sphere before me. To my surprise, my supernaturally strong teeth pierce the metal with ease. The texture is undeniably much tougher than anything a human could ever hope to gnaw on comfortably, but a strange satisfaction washes over me as I break into the gleaming surface.


    Somehow, the high-value item has become my favorite chew toy. I mean, it''s made from a non-toxic material but also has a unique texture¡ªit''s firm yet not chewy, offering a delightful resistance that no other hard plastics can match.


    And when the glossy surface catches the light just right, it makes it even more enticing to play with. What I love most is that it''s basically infinitely reusable, too; I just have to reshape it back into a ball, and then bam, it''s ready for my next round of fun.


    One day, while staying at site 6 for a routine health checkup, Richard unexpectedly walks into my dorm room after knocking, eager to check in on me since I rarely get to visit him anymore. At that moment, I am completely caught off guard, a heavy lump of gold wedged between my teeth, half sticking out of my mouth and glinting dully in the light.


    The room suddenly feels suffocating, and I struggle to maintain my composure as he stands there, wide-eyed. I already know that he is going to overreact and make a big deal of my new chew toy choices.


    Richard looks at the precious metal in my mouth in abject disbelief, a mixture of shock and disgust etched across his face.


    "What are you chewing?" Richard asks slowly.


    Acting nonchalantly, I wave and grin, giving him a better view of what I held between my teeth¡ªa large, crumpled wad of golden metal representing what must be an entire year''s salary for him.


    He gasps, his voice rising in urgency as he demands I spit it out, but I stand my ground. With a defiant shrug, I countered, "I paid for this, so I''ll do whatever I want with it." Tension hung in the air as I continued to chew, relishing the taste of rebellion.


    A glint enters his eyes as he contemplates my words.


    Not taking my reasoning as sufficient enough, he lunges for me, intent on taking away my precious, but I dash out of my desk chair, causing it to crash to the ground, and barely dodging his attempt to grab at me.


    Hoping over my couch, I turn around and grin at him, showing off the deformed metal ball again as if to taunt him. Whenever he makes a motion to go around the couch one way, I move in the opposite direction, forcing him to glare at me and for my metallic grin to grow wider at his frustration.


    He then proceeds to chase me around the room, yelling all the while as if I am some toddler chewing on something that I shouldn''t have in my mouth. He keeps on yelling at me to ''drop it'' like I was a dog, so in response, I growl back at him playfully.


    Finally, Richard has enough and vaults over my couch in a surprise attack. I try scurrying out of the way, but he lands directly on top of me, pinning my limbs with his knees.


    Not wanting to use my claws in fear of accidentally hurting him, I find myself trapped as his hands try to pry my jaws apart.


    In some instinctive fear of losing my prize, I accidentally do something really stupid: I swallow the deformed metal ball in one big gulp.


    Richard, seeing this, looks at me in disbelief.


    "...well, if you want it now, you are going to have to wait a day or two," I say sheepishly.


    Richard stares for a moment longer before laughing at the absurdity of the moment.


    "You realize that''s not going to be fun when that has to come out the other end," he says.


    Thinking of how large the gold ball had been, I grimace.


    He was right. It was not a fun experience, and I''d never look at gold the same way ever again.


    <hr>

 Snippet 2: A bone to pick with you

    For Lucario and Aaron, becoming One was the best thing that had ever happened to them.


    All the training they''d performed over the course of their lives to become more in sync with each other now seemed, in retrospect, like a preordained path that they had been destined to walk. It felt like they had been waiting all of their lives for this, and only now could they really start to live.


    Everything was so fresh and new since Mew''s merger that Aaron sometimes forgot what it was even like to be two separate beings.


    Still, there are times when his new condition surprises him¡ªodd moments when a stray thought or an old instinct catches him off guard.


    For instance, Echo had recently given him a new chew toy for the holidays, probably meaning it to be a joke gift of some kind, but to Aaron''s bewilderment, he''d found himself utterly entranced by the Poke doll toy.


    The little squeaks It would give off when his teeth would press down upon it scratched at an instinctive itch that he hadn''t realized he still had.


    It is with a bit of chagrin that only two days after receiving the gift, the toy lay thoroughly ruined before him¡ªthe plastic squeaking device from within having fallen out onto the floor with depressing finality.


    He found himself immediately craving a new toy but he didn''t have the privacy to buy one without those around him finding out about his new addiction.


    What would the masses think if they saw him brought low by such base desires like this? He just had to ensure the public would not discover his new stress-relief habits.


    Illene was understanding when he explained it and was kind enough to provide him with several more chew toys specifically designed for a steel-type Pok¨¦mon. His loyalty to the royal princess nearly doubled at her understanding and discreet handling of the matter.


    Unfortunately, that made it doubly heartbreaking when he broke all of the new chew toys in less than a week, the strength of his own jaws cruelly betraying him.


    This left him in a bit of a situation. He did not want to burden the Royal Family with even more requisitions for chew toys, and it had been monumentally demeaning having to ask the first time. He would die of shame before asking for such frivolities so soon after receiving the first set.


    So, Aaron''s mind did what it always did when it found a problem such as this. It turned to Aura, and a solution presented itself, as it had many times before.


    The real problem with Pok¨¦mon-grade chew toys was that they were expensive and often still not durable enough for his liking.


    The Lucario line, however, had a perfect solution to this problem.


    An attack that could conjure bone-like club projections from solid aura, Bone Rush.


    With his unparalleled aura proficiency, the attack served dual purposes: creating his own personalized chew toy whenever he desired and providing an excellent aura control exercise.


    In the midst of his experimentation, Aaron stumbled upon a fascinating method to forge the Bone Rush Club in a significantly more resilient form. What began as a quest to perfect its texture for a blissfully satisfying crunch when bitten into soon evolved into an unexpected breakthrough.


    This innovative modification introduced hollow air pockets within the club, which not only enhanced its tactile quality but also remarkably augmented its structural integrity. The weapon transformed into an almost indestructible tool in Aaron''s hands, capable of absorbing tremendous impact and withstanding the rigors of battle, all while maintaining its distinctive crunch.


    In the Solitude of his own room, Aaron idly gnawed on a bone rush club while typing away on his new computer.


    Everyone had thought he''d struggle with new technologies for some reason, but he''d adapted quickly to using the nigh-magical devices.


    His deep fascination with all types of modern technology drove him to learn quickly, and soon, he was using his personal computer nearly daily, if a bit slowly still.


    Suddenly, Aaron received what he thought was a phone call invite from Echo, so he clicked the link without fully understanding what it actually was.


    As it turns out, the link he clicked was actually a transfer request. Moments after he clicked on it, a hidden compartment unfolded from the side of his bulky desktop computer. Soon, a familiar dusk ball materialized in the port. Once the materialization was complete, the Pok¨¦ Ball opened, releasing his Zoroark friend into the room.


    Their eyes met, and a slowly growing grin spread across Echo''s face as he noticed the bone rush club half hanging out of Aaron''s mouth.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    With his eyes closing in resignation from the inevitable teasing, Aaron refused to let Echo get under his skin for the habit that he had caused. After slowly exhaling a calming breath, he opened his eyes again to meet Echo''s amused expression.


    "I should know better than to accept strange email links from you. Well, get it out of your system. I can tell by that look on your face that you are going to mock me," Aaron says with exasperated dryness.


    "Such hostility! I only wanted to visit to check on how my friend liked that Poke doll toy I gave him, but all I see when I get here is a surly Lucario who apparently has a bone to pick with me."


    Despite himself, a groan of annoyance escapes from Aaron at the pun, which he knows will only fuel Echo''s nonsense.


    In a flash of movement, Echo shocks him by grabbing the other end of the bone club with his teeth and almost manages to yank the bone projection away.


    No longer sitting in his computer chair, Aaron growls loudly at Echo''s sheer GALL for trying to take his projection away! With another playful yank and growl from Echo, instinct starts to overtake both of them. All rational thought slowly leaves as their animalistic desire to play and vie for dominance takes hold.


    An unknown amount of time later, Illene stops by Aaron''s room to let him know that dinner will be ready soon; however, when She opens the door, she finds the surreal sight of Aaron and Echo playing tug-of-war with a blue aura projection.


    Both growled threateningly at each other with their paws and claws smooshing into each other''s faces, trying to get the other to release their toothy death grip on the bone between them. Despite the ferocity of the growling, no blood had yet been drawn between the two.


    Illene had thought to break them up at first, but she reconsidered when she took a second look and noticed Aaron''s tail wagging.


    The scene is so oddly charming that Illene, caught up in the moment, absentmindedly pulls out her phone and begins to record. The lens captures the vibrant colors and playful chaos around her. Just thirty seconds into her recording, Aaron catches a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. In an instant, he relinquishes control, allowing the bone rush club to shatter into shimmering motes of ethereal light.


    Echo, caught off guard, gasps as the playful energy suddenly dissipates, leaving him momentarily suspended in confusion. As Echo slowly rises from the floor, his gaze shifts to Illene, who has her phone aimed at them. The camera perfectly frames Aaron''s face, now a canvas of shock and disbelief as horror washes over him, unable to comprehend the unexpected turn of events.


    "Illene¡­how-how much of that did you record?" Arron asks, already fearing the answer.


    "Enough," She says, still recording with a huge grin on her face.


    Desperately, Aaron lunges for the phone but is halted by red claws wrapping around his ankle mid-lunge.


    "GO Illene! Save the file and send it to me before Aaron can delete it!" Echo calls out as Aaron desperately tries to shake off the dark-type menace.


    Bolting like a frightened rabbit, Illene quickly closes the door behind her, giggling like a schoolgirl all the while.


    With a final, exhilarating burst of energy, Aaron unleashes a powerful kick that sends Echo sprawling. Just as Aaron sprints toward the door, a swift, sweeping low kick comes out of nowhere, sweeping him off his feet and crashing him to the ground.


    The two of them grapple fiercely on the floor, each struggling to gain the upper hand. Suddenly, a sharp digital ping emanating from Aaron''s computer cuts through the tension. Both fighters freeze mid-attack, adrenaline still pulsing through their veins.


    Echo releases his fierce grip on Aaron''s forearm, where he had been biting down, while Aaron loosens the chokehold he had been on the verge of completing. The moment hangs in the air, charged with anticipation.


    Both Echo and Aaron rise. A new message from Illene appears on the screen, containing a video file. Echo bursts into laughter like a cartoon villain, prompting Aaron to sweep his legs out from under him with a bone rush.


    Now on the floor facing the dangerous club of pure aura, Echo states with no fear, "Do with me what you will, for I have already won."


    With a solemn nod acknowledging evil''s triumph on this day, Aaron brings down the club with a two-handed swing.


    And with a final cathartic bonk, Echo was knocked out cold.